Chapter Text
The first thing Jeongguk notices about the woman is the stark colour of glowing coral painted on her plush lips. She doesn’t seem older than her thirties, and when she enters the Petition and Resolution House she looks hesitant, standing by the door with her feet glued together, reminding him of a shy child.
Her eyes stay fixed on Jeongguk from the distance between them. The door of his study is slightly ajar so he can keep an eye on what Jimin is doing. She stares at him with trepidation. It’s not something he’s unfamiliar with. He’s been used to curious, frightened stares ever since he was a child.
He diverts his eyes back to the scriptures of the case he’s been handling for the past few days. It wasn't something hard perse, just an inheritance dispute between siblings. He keeps tapping the end of his writing brush against the parchment, focused.
Jimin greets the woman first, perhaps sensing her discomfort. “Good morning, my Lady,” Jimin’s voice is soothing, like the spring air that has recently arrived upon the capital.
Her robes are light in colour, a common tendency for spring. Lilacs and soft tones of rose. She’s quite elegant, and by the way her hair is pinned up, also married. And if she’s in the Petition and Resolution House, that can only mean one thing and one thing only.
The House, as Jimin calls their business establishment, is mostly empty. Hoseok had errands to run for the entirety of the morning, and Seokjin went to the Southlands to take care of a business Jeongguk asked him to handle with urgency.
“How may we assist you?” he continues, extending his sympathy to the point of making Jeongguk roll his eyes to the back of his head.
“I-I-” she starts, painted lips trembling. “I want to divorce my husband.”
There’s an audible clink when Jeongguk places his writing brush on the stone rest, and suddenly the woman tenses again as he rises from where he sits.
The robes Jeonguk wears are a perfect contrast to the Ladys's and Jimin’s. He doesn’t follow the tendencies for spring. His robes have always been the darkest colours. His hair falls like a waterfall of mò ink, and his golden jewelry clangs as he makes his way towards the woman.
His scent almost makes her faint the closer he gets. It's a rare mixture of sandalwood, writing ink, and black tea that clings to him wherever he goes.
“Master Jeon.” She places her hands in front of her face, arms stretched in semi circles, and bows her head.
“What is your name?” he asks, and behind her hands the woman’s eyebrows lift. The voice she designated to Master Jeon in her imagination doesn’t quite fit his image at all. His voice is almost like a lotus flower floating on water. Quite elegant and soft.
“Lian, Master Jeon.”
“Why do you want to divorce your husband, Lady Lian?” he asks.
She returns to her natural poised position and clears her throat. “I fear for my safety, Master Jeon.” The words escape like a flying arrow to a target. Jimin and Jungkook both share a look. And right then they both know on how to proceed.
Jimin prepares them tea, and in the meantime Jungkook asks Lady Lian to explain her situation. By then, she’s less tense when in his presence, yet still very aware and respectful. She gladly accepts the warm vial of green tea Jimin offers her with a shy smile. As he leaves, he closes the shoji of the reunion chamber and returns to the main hall to continue his work.
“First thing we need to clear out the way Lady Lian, you can’t lie to me. I need you to always tell me the truth.” Jungkook starts, crossing his legs under the wooden table.
“I know I can’t lie to you, Master Jeon, that is why I came to you,” she admits with a low voice.
“Fear alone will never win you a divorce,” Jeongguk continues, tone serious. “You need much stronger reasons.”
“I just can’t stay with him any longer,” she says, desperate. Her hands then fly to her stomach. “And once I’m with child, it will be impossible to escape. I want a divorce before producing an heir for Lord Chen.”
“You’re Lord Chen’s wife?” Jeongguk asks, and she nods, not in a proud way.
He knows Lord Chen. Most people in the city do. He has strong political ties, and he was once close to the last ruling Emperor himself. The thought makes Jeongguk shake his head.
Jeongguk folded his hands atop the table. “Lady Lian, I will be honest with you, this case is nearly impossible.” The light coming from the small window of the chamber gets caught against the gold bangles that adorned his wrists.
“Lord Chen is respected, known for being generous. His political ties are incredibly strong, and after his late wife’s passing…” He lifted his gaze toward Lady Lian. He notices a strand of her hair had fallen out of her intricate updo. “The court’s sympathy only deepened.” He finishes.
Lady Lian lowers her eyes, lets out an exhale that comes from the front of her mouth. “I know my place, Master Jeon. I know what people will say about me. But I’m ready to live my life like a divorced woman than spend another day in that house.”
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her robes. “You are the only person willing to hear me, Master Jeon.”
Jeongguk can hear Jimin’s busy footsteps outside the chamber. “Then tell me the truth.”
Lady Lian's shoulders stiffened. Jeongguk brushed a strand of his long hair behind his ear, waiting for an answer. They could hear the soft clang of metal breaking the silence of the chamber.
“What did I tell you when you entered this chamber?” He speaks then as he notices the prolonged silence.
“Not to lie to you.” She confirms with a nod, her eyes never meeting Jeongguk's.
“And yet you are still withholding something from me.”
Lady Lian swallows thickly. She opens her mouth slowly and then she states, “The servants speak differently whenever I ask about the first wife.”
“Differently how?” Jeongguk asks, inching closer.
“One claims she died from fever, another says weakness, another says it was…” She straightens her posture, and her features tighten, eyebrows sharp and tight together in the middle. “S-Suicide.”She pauses eventually to catch her breath. “No one is able to tell me the same story twice.”
Jeongguk stays silent while scribbles the details he just heard on the parchment, his handwriting makes out muddled and there's ink that stains the bottom of his pinky finger and the side of his hand.
“There are rooms inside the manor I am forbidden to enter,” she continued, carefully. “Lord Chen is away for a few days so, I entered one.”
For the first time, her composure shifted, not the elegant poise she walked inside with, but something a married lady coming from a rich noble family like Lady Lian is, was taught to never do.
“I found women’s robes hidden inside chests, I found expensive silk.” Her breathing shook slightly. “There was blood on them.” She whispers as if someone might hear her outside.
The room grew tense as Jeongguk’s eyes shifted towards her eyes, and then her trembling hands. “And the incense?” Jeongguk asked after a beat, his tongue clicking.
Lady Lian looked up to meet his stare quickly. “How did you-”
“Answer the question.” He insisted, not wanting to waste a second.
“It was everywhere. It was so thick I could barely even breathe.” She tells him, bringing her own hand to her nose, as if the scent of the incense was clouding the chamber as they speak.
Jeongguk’s expression did not change. But his fingers tapped once against the table is a steady rhythm. He scribbled the details on the parchment.
“Incense is often burned to cover decay, Lady Lian.” He stands up abruptly. He paces from one corner to the other slowly. “Lady Lian, when did you enter the room?” He asks her after a while.
She pauses for a moment and brings her thumb to her lips, biting the skin around her nail. The answer is not immediate.
Jeongguk places his hands on the table and tilts his head to the side.
“T-Three nights ago.” She finally says.
“Three nights ago,” Jeongguk repeats it slowly, as if shaping the syllables in his tongue for the first time in his life. His eyes shifted slightly past her face, as though the answer had already been in the vial of tea sitting between them. “No.” He simply says not loudly but it lands like a heavy rock on top of her head.
“Master Jeon what do you-”
“You entered the chamber earlier than that.” He corrects her almost gently. “Your hesitation when you spoke, it wasn’t because you were unsure Lady Lian, it was because you kept reconsidering.”
Her grip tightened around her robes. “I don’t understand what you’re implying Master Jeon.”
Jeongguk finally looked at her fully, his eyes dark like onyx pebbles you find along the borders of the rivers in the Northerlands.
“Then let me make it simple for you,” he said. “You are not remembering when you entered the chamber. You are choosing the version that costs you the least.” He points out.
“You said the servants speak differently about the first wife,” Jeongguk continues. He then reads the notes from the parchment, before rolling the scroll inwards. “But you did not tell me what you expected them to tell you.”
Lady Lian’s mouth opened to stutter something, but she chooses to stay silent instead.
After a while she masters the words to speak. “I only wanted the truth,” She managed to whisper to Jeongguk.
“That is not what you wanted,” Jeongguk replied as quickly. He scoffs. “You wanted a reason to believe what you were fearing.”
Then he turned slightly, reaching for the scroll beside him. He doesn't open it again. He needed to hand it to Jimin as soon as he could.
“You did not walk into that room by accident,” he said. “You went there because someone allowed you to, or because someone wanted you to find exactly what you found.”
Her face turned paler than rice powder. “That’s not-”
“Which is it?” he cut in, still calm.
Lady Lian’s breathing grew irregular. “I didn’t tell anyone,” she said quickly. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone I was going in.”
Jeongguk’s fingers rested on the edge of the file. “Then someone already knew you would.” He pauses and then looks at her again. “And that means this is no longer about your husband Lady Lian.” He stands up and opens the shoji, rushes down the hall of the building and looks for Jimin.
“Jimin? Park Jimin!” he calls for him, his voice echoes inside the walls.
“Jeongguk-” The voice comes from the entrance.
When he spots his coworker, he halts where he stands. Jimin stands by the doors of The House, and a royal guard stands beside him. There are a bunch of other guards on the grounds of the residence.
Jeongguk completely ignores the guard and looks at Jimin instead, his tone filled with urgency.
“Prepare me a carriage.” Jeongguk tells Jimin. The older man smiles awkwardly while being in the presence of a royal guard. When Jimin is about to reply he is complete cut off by the guard.
“Master Jeon, the Emperor calls for you.”
Jeongguk turns his whole body towards the guard and crosses his arms around his chest. “Well, you can tell the Emperor that I have a very important case to take care of, and that he should call for someone else.” Jeongguk huffs, then turns back to Jimin. “Jimin, my carriage please. This is urgent.”
“The Emperor’s matters are crucial, Master Jeon.” The guard states, then holds out the imperial script which holds the seal that Jeongguk would recognize even if he were blind.
Jeongguk’s name is written so carefully and it only confirms him that this may not be as urgent as keeping Lady Lian safe. A sigh grows deeply from the insides of his chest.
“Jimin, I need you to prepare a carriage. Close the doors of The House and take Lady Lian with you. Read the files on the table I left, and these too," He hands Jimin the scrolls, and he holds them against his chest. "You know what to do. I trust you with this one."
Jeongguk pats his shoulders, then turns back to the guard. "Take me to him." He tells the guard.
The Great Imperial Palace remains the same as when Jeongguk left.
The halls feel infinite. The busts of every Emperor makes it feel like he’s being followed everywhere he goes, and the closer he gets to the Emperor’s study, the more he hears his heart beat ringing inside his head.
The guards surround him like he’s a prisoner. His robes flow like water as he walks, and the scent of sandalwood spreads through the air. The servants that pass by lower their heads as Jeongguk walks past them. His presence alone is intimidating enough for them to scurry off their way.
See, the Jeons have been quite well-known within the Imperial Court for generations. Their gifted ability has always been their survival. The strength that ascended their family into aristocracy centuries ago.
The Veil Sight, as they like to call it, is inherited only through his mother’s side of the family. The ability to view emotional fragments of objects and places, to perceive sentimental fragments in a person.
Some view it as a gift from the Gods. Others say it’s the creations of darkness and a pact with the most evil spirits. Either way, they respect the Jeon family as if they were royalty. Whether it’s admiration or fear, power remains power.
When he finally stops in front of the doors of the Emperor’s study, he feels smaller than usual, yet his composure doesn’t change. He doesn’t waver. He hasn’t seen the Emperor's face in two years and a few months, and he hasn’t set foot in the Imperial Palace since he resigned from his position.
He never looked back for his own sake. For both of their sake. Now, he only hears announcements once in a while. The birth of his heir. The Empress’s rapid second pregnancy. Alliances being stronger than ever.
The doors open slowly and he feels his heart hammering, banging in his chest as if it’s about to soar away into the air and he won’t be able to chase it and put it back inside the cavity.
The Emperor is facing the large window of his study. But Jeongguk locks eyes first with Min Yoongi. The Chief Councillor, the Emperor’s right hand, his highest advisor, and main confidant.
The door closes behind Jeongguk, and it’s only the three of them again. And suddenly he’s back in time, a taste of pure longing and remorse clinging to his tongue.
“Long time no see,” Yoongi is the first to say, and Jeongguk doesn’t budge.
“Chief Min,” he says instead, using a formality that makes the older man quirk an eyebrow and snicker. He bows with his arms in front of him.
Taehyung turns around, and it’s like the walls Jeongguk built over the entirety of two years completely crumble.
“It is nice to see you too, Jeongguk.” The sound of his voice alone is enough to make his knees buckle under his robe.
Jeongguk’s heart hammers stronger inside his chest. “Your Highness,” he bows as low as he can without getting on the floor.
“Jeongguk, stand, please.” The Emperor says quickly, his eyes shifting as he steps closer to help him straighten his back.
Jeongguk slowly rises and locks eyes with the Emperor. He almost loses his breath. “What can I do to help, Your Majesty?” His voice is stern. Despite the feeling of longing, he’s irritated.
He hates being summoned, interrupted, especially when he is taking care of something urgent. And both of them know of this.
“We need you to help us solve a case involving one of my concubines.” And just with a bit more of a dozen of words, the Emperor is able to make Jeongguk’s composure waver completely.
Jeongguk's eyes narrow, his lips twitch. “You summoned me. You know how much I hate being summoned,” he starts, and the irritation in his voice is palpable. “I have a job. An actual job, with people who have to count on what I do and take risks. I have to protect them. You have the power to call anyone else other than me to take care of your concubines.”
The look on Taehyung’s face only makes him feel more vexed, as if this is all a joke. His life, his job, everything he does. The Emeperor smiles completely amused at Jeongguk’s outrage.
Yoongi is the one who talks first between the two. “Are you done with your rant?”
“Tell your guards to take me back to my workplace, please,” Jeongguk demands.
“You can’t go against the orders of the Emperor. I may have you imprisoned for that,” Taehyung says with an amused smile. Jeongguk wants to roll his eyes.
“One of the Emperor’s concubines died, and we find it suspicious. The official cause of death is illness, but the servants told us she was healthy the morning of her death. Most people of the palace are terrified, and there are rumours spreading around the court. The evidence here doesn’t align,” Yoongi explains.
“And why do I need to be in it?” Jeongguk asks, genuinely confused. They have qualified investigators to be put in the field.
“Because if this is handled publicly, it will cause a great scandal, Master Jeon. And I only trust your judgement,” Taehyung says as he leans back on the table, hands resting and wrists facing outward. “Please, Jeongguk, do this for the man that trusted you more than anyone else in this palace.”
Discarding his abilities, Jeongguk is only human.
The concubine's chamber is quiet now. Jeongguk can only hear the past ghosts looming around.
The lattice windows are open yet the smell of incense burns the inside of his nose and settles deep in his lungs. Jeongguk examines the room carefully, Yoongi stands beside him as he does the same thing.
The Emperor isn’t present for this part. Taehyung had other matters at hand and a part of Jeongguk is glad he isn’t there, even though the other kept itching for his presence after so long.
Jeongguk passes by the concubine's vanity, examines the space. Her daily objects remain untouched. Her hairpins, hairbrushes, several vials of oils, scented ointments and perfumes. The servants had cleaned the room yet left most of her belongings untouched.
A box of refined jewelry that looked from the fartherlands. Jeongguk grazed his hand on the intricate design of the box. His eyes scan it, he doesn’t miss how perfectly crafted it is, probably handmade only for her, gifted by the Emperor himself.
The design is a lotus flower. The Emperor’s favorite.
“She was favored often by The Emperor?” Jeongguk asks without looking up.
“Yes, she was.” Yoongi answers with his arms crossed.
Jeongguk nods once and nothing more. He reaches for the jewelry box on top of the vanity table, resting near the bronze mirror. His fingers graze the golden surface, and he senses the echoes of its memories. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he concentrates.
The vision of this specific memory is inside of this own room. There’s a soft low laugh he recognizes. The warm orange lights of burning candles. The scent of rice wine and drunken laughter. A soft smile with rouge lips as familiar hands caress her bare skin. And he senses not fear nor pain but deep deep affection.
Jeongguk pulls his hand back away as if he had been shocked. His breath is irregular and his cheeks burning hot.
Yoongi notices his recoil right away. “Jeongguk?”
“I’m fine.” Raises a hand and Yoongi stops in his movements before getting closer to Jeongguk.
Jeongguk’s voice is cold, absent in the moment. The image is still stuck in his head like a freshly painted canvas. Those hands that he knows far too well.
And he shouldn’t feel this way. It’s not his place to feel this way.
“Did he dislike her?” He asks after a few exhales.
“Who?”
“The Emperor.” Jeongguk emphasises on his name.
“No… For what I know she was really kind. Not just to him but to everyone. He did favour her in every sense.” Yoongi clears his throat after.
Something ugly twists inside of Jeongguk and he feels something like heavy stones inside his stomach. It isn’t rage. It’s a feeling far more shameful than what he wants to admit.
Yoongi senses the tense silence and then cleans his throat “The palace physician confirmed the cause of death.”
Jeongguk swallows, then replies. “If he confirmed the cause of death we wouldn’t be here.”
“Are you implying the physician lied?”
“I’m implying they were told what to write.” Jeongguk turns around and looks at his old tutor. “Tell me something.”
“If I can.”
“When you arrived after her death, was the room already like this?”
“It was,” Yoongi looks around the room and frowns a bit, thinking. “Prepared.”
“Prepared.” Jeongguk echoes the words and nods his head. “That is not the same for a death scene.”
“Jeongguk, you and I both know that the Inner Court does not allow anything close to disorder. Not in cases involving anything related under the Emperor's watch. Especially to his favored concubine.”
“I know I’m not stupid, but this is not order.” Jeongguk points around with his arms. “This is replacement.”
Yoongi makes a face. “Explain.”
Jeongguk signs for him to get closer to the bed. “The fabric is too new. There is no weigh settled into it and there are no imprints.”
Yoongi looks closer and then nods as he realizes what Jeongguk is saying.
“And the air.” Jeongguk closes his eyes softly and then takes a whiff. “Doesn’t belong to death.”
“Good heavens kid,” Yoongi shivers. “So you’re saying the room was altered.”
Jeongguk corrects him right away. “I’m saying it was erased basically.”
They can only hear the incense burning. The silence around them as they both realise the words Jeongguk just uttered and how solemn they sounded.
“Jeongguk, that’s a serious accusation.” Yoongi's tone is more concerned than pressing.
“It’s merely an observation.”
He moved to the corner of the room and stopped at an empty space. “There’s something here.” Jeongguk points down as he looks at the floor. Yoongi mimics him and turns his head.
“There’s nothing here,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly.
“Precisely. That’s our problem.” Jeongguk points out. “Something used to occupy this space, and it was removed.”
“How can you be so certain?”
Jeongguk takes a deep breath and remembers the jewellery box. “This room remembers less than it should.” He mumbles. “Someone moved this place around.” He hears Yoongi take a slow, controlled breath through his nose.
“But what would someone gain from that?” Jeongguk asks himself that.
“Control.” Yoongi answers him.
“Or time.” Jeongguk adds in a beat.
“So you agree something is wrong.”
Jeongguk nods once. “Yes. But I don’t know yet what was taken. But only that it mattered enough that it was taken.”
Jeongguk gazes at the empty corner one last time before starting. “Something was removed from this room before I arrived.”
“Are we done here?”
Jeongguk nods. “I think we are.”
While leaving the concubine's chambers Yoongi’s hands stay behind his back. “Jeongguk, tell me how have you been? We haven’t heard much from you in these past two years. Only about your cases, and it’s from my old peers from the Academy.”
“Lots of work. Lots of stress. The city is filled with problems that come to me for a fixing.” He explains with a tone that doesn’t match the burden he carries.
“I want you to understand that, even though you worked for the palace, that you come from a very well respected family, and that you are really good at what you do, I will not give you full access to everything. You can see records but not witnesses yet, you can question servants but only the lowest rank first.”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Jeongguk nods perceptive. “I understand it.”
“It’s not that I want to be obstructive, I just want things controlled.”
“You’ve always been really controlling.”
“Not controlling.”
“You’ve always been quite controlling hyung-”
“Ah there we go.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“You can always call me hyung. Calling me by my status was eerie.” Yoongi says. “I’m still the same person you worked with for years.”
“It’s not the same.” Jeongguk answers. “Nothing feels the same.”
“Ever since you left things have been… Off.”
“In which sense?”
Yoongi sighs and stares at the open garden in the middle of the courtyard. The bunnies hop freely.
“His Majesty couldn’t comprehend why you resigned.” Yoongi confesses. “We tried to find a replacement but then decided to not have someone with the same position so we just didn’t have anyone fill it anymore.”
“There is no Imperial Legal Secretary?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
“That’s just my job now.”
“You should find someone to fill that position. It’s too much work for you to do.”
“You should come back.”
“I have my own business now,” Jeongguk tells him. Yoongi only hummed with consideration, not insisting further.
As they walked farther inside the palace halls, the servants lowered themselves into bows as Yoongi and Jeongguk passed.
“The physician,” Jeongguk said simply.
Yoongi glanced his way. “You wish to question him?”
“Yes. If I may.”
“You still believe he falsified the report?”
Jeongguk’s bangles clinked softly as he adjusted the sleeves of his dark robes. He bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I believe someone wanted the report written before the body went cold, hyung.”
The physician's quarters were mainly carved with cedar doors and it smelled awfully of herbs and of old parchment. Jeongguk’s nose wrinkled at the strong smell which reminded him awfully of his childhood.
Then he spotted the older man with the bright blue robes. The royal physician rose too quickly when both Yoongi and Jeongguk entered his quarters. His posture was crooked, his hands wrinkly with spots of age, and his eyes white-ish like wéiqí stones.
“Chief Councillor Min,” the man greeted carefully before turning to the younger man. “Master Jeon.”
His eyes lingered on Jeongguk a moment too long. Even though slightly blind he could still notice the shapes of Jeongguk. And he knew exactly who Jeongguk was. Jeongguk found it incredibly interesting.
Yoongi remained close to the doorway while Jeongguk walked towards the physician’s table, his eyes lowering toward the scattered medical scrolls resting on top of it. The scrolls were neat. Almost rehearsed, as if he was waiting for him to arrive.
“You attended Lady Meilin before her death?” Jeongguk started asking.
“Yes.” The physician answered straight away.
“And when did her illness start?” Jeongguk continued.
“Three days prior.” The answer came just as fast as the previous one.
Jeongguk picked up one of the scrolls casually. He opened it to read a few of the words he couldn’t really understand, and then dropped it back on the table.
“Fever?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his golden hoop earrings dangling.
“Yes. Very high.” The physician rubbed his hands together scratches the back.
“Coughing blood?” Jeongguk continues.
“Slightly.” He pinches his fingers to emphasise.
“Loss of appetite?”
“Yes.”
“Insomnia?”
“Yes.”
Jeongguk then finally looked the physician in the eyes.
“And yet,” he said quietly, fingers taping his chin, “they described her as healthy the morning before she died.”
The physician froze only for a moment, hut it was enough for Jeongguk to know.
Yoongi noticed it too, even when standing by the door.
“Common people are not educated in medicine,” the physician replied carefully. “They may not recognise symptoms.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Jeongguk takes a few steps closer to the physician.
“Then perhaps you can explain something else to me.” He says instead.
The physician swallowed thickly. His eyes kept following Jeongguk's movements.
“The chamber was cleansed before formal orders.” Jeongguk begins.
“That decision was made quite fast,” Yoongi adds, his arms crossed
Jeongguk knew exactly what Yoongi had made. Not an accusation per se, but a way for the man to explain himself.
“The Inner Court wished to avoid rumours.” The physician explains. His eyes shake. So do his hands.
“The Inner Court,” Jeongguk repeats with an amazed tone. He stepped closer, not threatening, rather curious. “Who specifically?”
The physician lowered his eyes to the ground. He didn’t utter a word. Jeongguk saw the raw fear in the man’s eyes immediately. Someone higher than this man had given orders.
Jeongguk’s eyes drifted slowly across the room before settling on an incense burner resting on top of one of the shelves. The scent was the same from Lady Meilin’s chamber.
“Interesting.” He says it mainly to himself.
Yoongi had the shift towards Jeongguk’s direction instantly. “What is it?”
Jeongguk walked towards the incense burner slowly, his hands ready to reach already.
Inside rested a dark medicinal herb ash mixed with pale crushed ash. Not the usual ceremonial one after the death of someone.
Then ever so very carefully he touched the edge of the burner that was shaped like a goose. And the memory arrived with a different kind of aggression.
In the vision, he sees someone- Lady Meilin, coughing vigorously. He hears a cup falling on the wooden floor. The suffocating thickness of smoke and another voice inside the chamber. And it was not a woman’s.
Jeongguk pulled his hand back and Yoongi’s eyes never left him. He looks far too worried. “You saw something.”
Jeongguk stood up slowly. Usually it didn’t drain him this mich, but this memory flash had been too vivid. Too strange.
Yet Jeongguk’s face revealed nothing. He just stared back at the physician with blank eyes. “Yes.”
The physician turned his face towards the door. He was unable to look at Master Jeon, nor at Chief Min.
Jeongguk looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “Tell me,” he said, “why does the incense from a dead concubine’s chamber match the mixture burning inside yours?”