The Con

[hipslip]

Pretty boys don’t have much of a place in this town. I’m almost certain people think I was useless since the day I learned how to walk. Apparently, being pretty is a luxury reserved for women who have been blessed.

I never asked for a button nose and double lids, nor did I ask for a slender figure and naturally straight hair. These things come to me in gratuitous amounts with no bearing of requests from me yet I’m still frowned upon by my father’s friends. Or even worse. Admired. Eck.

“Awww, Taemin is so pretty.”

“Never cut your hair, you pretty boy.”

“Kim Jaejoong’s  son is a remarkable piece of work.”

Blah blah blah. Pretty here. Pretty there. I’m not ungrateful, just thoroughly depressed by the fact that my looks have become my standing in this small town.

It doesn’t help that my hands are petite either when I had to hold my father’s sword with both hands just to get my grip right. I guess that’s why I developed this need to prove myself of my worth.

“You’ll be fine, Taemin.” My father had assured me once the sword’s weight finally slipped from my grasp. I was about thirteen then, a skinny boy with the hand eye coordination of a penguin. “Soon, son. When you have filled in you will find these are going to be the least of your problems.”

And, oh, how right he was.

My father watched me grow, acting as both sides of the parent spectrum when my mother passed away after giving birth to me. Even at a young age my father entrusted me with his thoughts about the royal family and how much of opposites we were with the people within its walls. He never spoke of our situation as a misfortune. And to tell you the truth, I was happy for the most part. Sure, from time to time we were short of bread and water and my father would have to go a few nights with an empty stomach, but life was good to us. And we were healthy.

One thing I disliked about living in this part of town was mornings. I always woke up to the smell of horse manure and the sound of carriages passing by. But one can only call this place home if you’ve lived in it for as long as I have.

At age fifteen my father began to go home bearing fruits and numerous loafs of bread. I was fifteen and being hungry for a teenage boy was no joke. I took the bread in my mouth, plucked each fruit and drank two bottles of water every day.

Finally reaching the age of sixteen, my muscles finally taking the slightest of shape from playing in the fields with Jonghyun and Kibum. We’d be there all day, playing with wooden sticks and pretending that they were swords, dueling until the sun had set.

The town had cast these sword fighting competitions along with games of archery and my friends and I had always wanted to participate. Father thought it was a good idea and since then he started training me in both. I took home the trophies for both years of the event, my father gladly bragging about my victory to his friends.

One day, he told me about the food that he had been able to gather and I found out that he had been stealing them from various carriages meant for the palace.

“But, father.”

“It’s all about survival, Taemin.” He had told me then. “Thievery is a mere term. What are these terms in comparison to a full stomach?”

I knew it was wrong, but my father was getting weaker at his game, which was why I decided to try a hand at it and soon got Jonghyun and Key to steal with me.

We were able to concoct several ideas wherein a distraction is to be made so that the guards would not pay heed of the activities taking place.

We were always imaginative and skilled at that. The first of distractions that we started with was Jonghyun falling on the side of the road and pretending to be hurt. It had not worked so well for these guards had specific instructions to fulfill, rendering us to challenge out creativity even more.

That’s when Kibum had come to my house that morning prior to our heist, his sister’s hanboks of fine silk in his hands. He spreads them out on my table, allowing Jonghyun and I to stare at him with puzzlement.

“Are you suggesting we exchange them for food?” Jonghyun asked as he felt the sleeves of one of the hanboks. Kibum swatted his hand away without even looking at him.

“No, buffoon. Have you no ounce of creativity?”

“Then what are they for?” I offer them two glasses of hot tea to drink.

“For our disguise. I say, we distract these men with their weaknesses.”

“They’re weak for fine silk?” Jonghyun asks before taking a nervous sip of his tea when Kibum glares at him with daggers.

“Do us all a favor and never speak again.” Kibum scoffs. “Women. Men have a weakness for pretty women.”

“So, where are the women?” I ask when Kibum doesn’t go on to explain.

“Why, you’re looking at them.”

“Cross dress.” I deadpan. “And I thought Jonghyun’s plan to leave an abandoned puppy in the road was a bad idea.”

“It was purely a suggestion! There’s no need for judgment.”

Eventually, we agree with the suggestion and shove Kibum into one of the hanboks much to his protest.

“It was your idea, anyway!”

And after a few pats of powder and a flower in his hair even Jonghyun and I were hopeful of the plan.

We set out to the road leading to the palace, separating two forests in the outskirts of town. Jonghyun and I kept our bows and arrows behind our backs, leaning under the bushes low enough to not be spotted while Kibum stayed on the side of the road walking with a fan over half of his face.

Miraculously enough, the carriage stopped with just a few winks from the boy.. or lady. The man begins with a slimy grin and a line that goes, “Lost, my lady?”

And Kibum replies with a high pitched giggle that caused me and Jonghyun to exchange cringed, bundled whispers of laughter. We whip our hands over our mouths in fear of getting caught.

The man soon hopped off the carriage and followed Kibum since he came up with this story about being lost and asked if this was the way to town. When they were far enough Jonghyun and I emerged from the plants and took out our sacks, filling them with goods, not enough to look as if any of them have been tampered with.

Kibum arrives, thanking the man and even going so far as running a dainty finger over his sleeve. The man blushes, we both fight another fit of laughter rising in our throats and once the man leaves and Kibum is waving at him we come out of the bushes for a second time, trampling KIbum in a victorious embrace.

~o~

I did it on a dare. That’s all I’m going to say about it and is the only reasoning I will go to when asked why I did it. We went out for a few drinks a fort night ago and Kibum challenged me to be the lady this time. I rejected the suggestion at first but Kibum asked me to indulge in a last man standing drinking game, the consequence of losing being that I wear the hanbok this time. I never turn down challenges.

But I never always win.

Jonghyun’s in the middle of fixing the hem of my hanbok while KIbum pats my face dry. And once the metamorphosis was done they stood before me, eyeing me with amusement and shock.

“Oh, Taemin. You’re a vision.”

I sniff and they both groan.

“Act like a lady!”

“I am, what?” I protest, my hands in the air.

“Ladies do not sniff with such vigor!”

As Jonghyun and Kibum hid in the bushes I hear the carriage nearing and pretend to walk ahead. The carriage stops as expected and it’s a different man this time.

“Excuse me, my lady, but I feel as if I’ve seen you before.”

Oh god. “Uhm.” I clear my throat and change my pitch. “Ye-I mean, no. I’m not from around here.”

“Oh. Are you lost?”

I heighten the fan over my face when he tries to bend over to catch a glimpse of my lips. “Just slightly so. I was, uhh, on my way to the palace?”

“What luck! I’m headed there as well. I could take you if you were to just-“

“No, no.” I clear my throat again when it went low in my panic. Then I smile behind my fan. “That won’t be necessary. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.”

“I just need directions. Would you mind showing me instead?”

“Certainly!”

~o~

The pub that Jonghyun, Kibum and I go to is quite small and not visited by most. When it go there is most commonly us rioting up the walls with our laughter.

We were in the middle of reminiscing today’s events, tears in our eyes when Jonghyun mentions how the man earlier had offered me a ride and I didn’t even have to touch him like Kibum did. And Kibum was just about to smack him sober when the door of the pub is shoved open and Jonghyun’s father comes inside, his panic stricken face not lost in the dim lit room.

He rushes to our table and holds my narrow frame in his hands, shaking me. “Taemin! Taemin, it’s your father! The guards were at your door and they have him captive for stealing from one of the afternoon carriages!”

~o~

I was drunk. And I was young. With Kibum, Jonghyun and their family in my house trying to come up with a plan to talk to the king and have my father free, I was not very participative. Because I had a plan of my own. I took my sword and my archery tools, taking matters into my own hands while my youth still allowed me agility and strength-maybe even courage-to do so. It was reckless, at best.

As I was about to escape from the small space of my window when Kibum enters my room and I stop in an awkward position, one leg already over the ledge.

“Did Jonghyun tell you to do this stupidity?” Were the first words he spoke with one brow arched and a faint “What?” from the living room reaches both our ears. “I wasn’t talking to you, idiot, finish your tea!” Kibum commands before shutting the door and pulling me from the window. He was surprisingly strong for his size.

“You’re not going there alone, Taemin! Not without a solid plan!”

I throw my tools on the floor out of frustration. “There’s no time! My father will be feasted by the crows or something. We have to act now!”

Kibum slaps me across the face. “Sober up, won’t you!”

“Ow.” I hold my damaged cheek. It was a bit dramatic, but I kind of needed it.

“You are not joining your father in that prison cell. We will find a way.” Kibum’s eyes scan across the room, his voice shaking. He knew of my pain although not exactly since he still has both his parents and his siblings while I only have my father.

His eyes skirt over my room, avoiding my pitiful gaze when he stops over the hanboks he had brought before, poking from the mouth of the sack where we had hidden them. “I think I have an idea.”

~o~

After a lot of arguments settled and food devoured to ready us for this day, I found myself in front of the palace gates, once again dressed in one of Kibum’s sister’s hanboks. He chose the pink and blue one today, something completely feminine. The length of my auburn hair was gathered in a low bun, with miniature curls framing my powdered cheeks. Kibum made use of different shades of powders this time, pink for my cheeks and black for the rims of my eyes. And just when I thought that he couldn’t possibly have anymore tricks up his sleeve he mixes some of the red powder with lavender oil and tints my lips red, contrasting with my fair complexion.

And as a finishing touch, adorned on one side of my ear was a blossom.

The plan was simple. I was to enter the palace as a lady placing myself in their midst as a servant. Jonghyun, Kibum, their fathers and few other men who wanted to help out will be summoned into the palace by me once I have gained their trust. But first I have to learn of the palace and its intricacies, find my father’s whereabouts and make sure that I leave no trail until the day my father has left the premises. After that, it was just a matter of keeping him safe.

I awaken from my review of the plan in my head when one of the palace guards nears me, authority clear in his stance.

“Have you any business here, my lady?”

“I do.” I hold my fan over my face as practiced, my knees weakening under the scrutiny of the guard. Partly, being in territories like the road leading to the palace made me feel safe being this way. At least we were in common ground. Today I was standing in their territory, no weapons or friends, not even my manhood to help me stand tall. All I have is a fan and layers of colored powders swept across my face. “I would like to request a word with, er, your highness.”

The other guards around the perimeter overhear our conversation and bothered to hide their sniggers behind their gloved hands. How I wanted to shoot an arrow through everyone’s palm.

“I’m afraid that-“

“How dare you!” I use one hand to randomly point at one of the guards posted at the wall. He incredulously stares back, pointing his finger at himself in question while the rest of the guards follow the invisible line of my finger. “Yes, you! How dare you try to sneak a…a…wink at me! And you, sir! How dare you make a woman wait? Is this how ladies are treated in-“

“Jeez, lady, calm down.”

“I will not be told to calm down by some fu-“

“I beg your pardon, madam?” A voice chimes over from behind the guard. The guards around suddenly bow at the man who reveals himself in a navy blue durumagi with white lapels. His skin is slightly tan, hair a messy puff of wavy strands over his forehead, the tips barely covering his smiling eyes. He has a regal air about him, something that comes with living in the palace, I figure. “But you wouldn’t happen to be Lee Taeyeon, would you?”

Taeyeon? What? Who? “Sure.” I blink. “I mean, yes.”

His lips thin out into a smile, unlike his look of obvious nervousness earlier. “I thought so. I am so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“I-no. It’s fine. Where I’m from, I’m used to dealing with ignorance.” I only say it because I can and the guards can only swear under their breath.

The boy bows at me and I do the same before we enter the gates and I watch my life play out before me.

~o~

I counted about two sets of stairs and one lake before we were half way towards the king’s study. Upon our arrival we were told by one of the handmaids that he was not to be disturbed. Under the pressure of being lost on his instructions, the boy before me licks his lips and stares at the other end of the hall. “Ah,” He says when he finally finds an alternative. “Come on.”

And come on, I did.

On our way within the palace I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. Every ounce of architecture looked divine in its materials, shining and never left to collect dust. I suddenly developed mental images of handmaids going about the palace and scrubbing every inch to its finest version, their own hands marred with the imperfections the furniture is rid off. Then that thought leaves me to my father. And where he could be. If he was safe. If he was sleeping right. If he was still alive…

“My lady?”

I look back up at him, my fan still in place.

“The queen will see you now. Please follow me.”

The queen. Oh shit.

I’d only ever seen queen Boa during the ceremonies and announcements, or whenever I go to the palace for the festival of lights. Which I stopped doing a long time ago. The point is, I’ve never seen her up close until today.

She sat elegantly atop the red linen chair with golden frames, center of the room, holding a book in one hand as her servants sat on the floor beside her, dressed less elegantly. And to say that she was beautiful with her glowing skin and hair as dark as the night sky would be an understatement. She looked so fragile, almost like a doll with her skin and her eyes.

She folds the book on her lap when hears us walk in and I look away when directs her gaze at me.

“Your majesty, I present to you Lee Taeyeon, the new handmaid from Daegu.”

I bow as a response and don’t straighten up until I feel her tap my shoulder. She stood before me, her eyes lingering over mine for a minute. Then her hand detaches the fan from my face revealing my lips and my chin and now I can feel my stomach doing summersaults.

She arches a brow, the corner of her delicate lips quirking into a smile and before I knew it she was… laughing. And not just giggling, the way women must in front of men or anyone else, but laughing like,

“Ahahahahaha!” And as abruptly as her mirth had began it stops, his mouth back in a tight line. “Leave us.”

“Your majesty?”

“Leave. Us.” She turns to the servants then at the boy and they scramble to her request, shutting the door before them.

My head had naturally turned in the direction of their exit. The queen, wanting to gain back my attention, places her forefinger and thumb below my chin and nudges me to face her. And when I do the proximity makes my eyes wander about the room in search of my fan.

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen, your majesty.”

“You’re pretty tall for your age.” She assesses, circling me, the hem of her chima dragging behind her.

“Mmh.” Then by the side of my face she places feather light touches that stain my cheeks pink. She laughs again. “So pretty.”

There it was again. Pretty. I was going to die with that word, wasn’t I?”

She takes a hold of my wrist, revealing my hand from underneath the fabric of my jeogori. “Such small hands too. I don’t think these hands are made palace work. Nor is this face. Such pristine skin, how can I let it go to waste?”

I stare at my feet, feeling my age and how small I was next to the queen and her scrutiny.

“Why would your father ever let a pretty little thing like you go into the palace like this?”

At the mention of my father, and the knowledge that he was somewhere in the palace, an arrow shot straight at my heart. Anger clutches at my lungs and I swallow hard, biting my tongue and taking my time. Patience.

She misunderstands my silence as hesitation. “Does your father even know you’re here?”

“No.” I croak out, the one truth I’ve said since being here.

Ironically, that’s when the queen decides to say her next words. “I think that’s enough games for one day, Kim Taemin.”

Everything is dead silent after those words, my name spilling from her lips with ease and such practice. Like she’s known me before. My gaze crawls upward to her face and as I reach her stare she passes me a kind smile that scares me even more. “Please..”

“Ssh,” She hurries back to me, hand on my cheek. “The king need not know about this. Under one condition.”

~o~

The queen’s son, Choi Minho, was stubborn and fickle with his friends. He rarely socialized and not a lot of people can stand his quips. But mothers always knew best, the queen said. And she knew her son was lonely.

However, the prince was not always like this. Growing up, Minho disliked the idea of having a companion and being seen in public with them. He didn’t see the point of it all. He could make friends if he wanted too but the queen just wanted him to have someone solid to depend on seeing as they rarely saw each other. Then came a boy who was originally hired as a concubine but only ended up as Minho’s companion.

“They got along better than white on rice.” The queen had described out of a memory as she continued to tell me about her son. “It was years after that he said he needed to go back to his home town because of his sister’s ailment and we allowed him. But he never came back again. Minho took it the wrong way and suddenly turned into this man who always seemed to have his royal undergarments in a twist.”

“Ah.” As the explanation went on the more warmth I seemed to gather from the queen. I wasn’t saying that I felt any sort of special closeness to her but growing up with my father for so long, anything remotely maternal was bound to catch my attention. Like those times I spent overnight in Kibum’s house, the way his sisters and mother would dote on him and tease him at the same time. “Your majesty, may I ask. How did you know my name?”

She places a hand over her mouth as if to exemplify honest surprise with slight hints of exaggeration. “Why, Taemin. Just because the palace walls are high doesn’t mean they are not thin. I’ve been in the town where you are from and very rarely do I spot something as exquisite as you. I didn’t necessarily ask around but my interest in you was easily suspected by the king, who of course asked me what I wanted to make of you.

“I had told him then that there was nothing wrong with looking. Just looking. But even then I was slightly curious. Then I heard about your father and you just stumbled in here without me having to lift a finger.”

My fingers fiddle with the edges of my jeogorim, her story still settling in the air. “I see.”

“Now I know that you’ve come here for your father.”

My eyes light up and she notices my interest shining in my irises. She smiles. “I will allow you a place in the palace as well as time to spend with your father… and quite possibly freedom. But you would have to earn it. Your father did steal after all.”

“Anything.” I state shamelessly. “I’ll do anything.”

“Take the spot next to my son as a lady. Once you fulfill that and my son is satisfied with your services I’ll make sure your father is free and he will be granted better duties in the palace. You will have a place of residence as well as permanent means of making a living. You have my word.”

It was a blow to my pride and would go against everything that I wanted to prove of myself. For all my life I had tried my hand at the arts of archery and sword fight competitions just to showcase the other sides of myself that my beauty has nothing to do with. Yet, here I find myself at the foot of my goal, with the use of my beauty to take the first step.

~o~

Unlike the queen’s graceful strides over the fields that we were venturing, I was walking much like a baby duck. It was like I could not pull my chima high enough, still managing to trip over it a couple of times as we reached our destination.

I wanted to scream and shout and maybe even demand the queen that she take me to my father first but I feel as if I’m already standing on very shaky ground as it is. So I let her lead me to the field where she tells me her son was leisurely piercing sticks through circles on a horse. Archery, I’d wanted to correct, but decided against it when she started scolding at one of the handmaids for holding the parasol too low as we proceeded forward.

Once a bit nearer, I see six targets set in a line, strategically placed at a distance from one another, the rider of the horse speeding past in order to shoot at the targets one by one.

Now, a few feet away I realize that there are about two men standing at a clear distance from the rider, clapping and giving the rider advices on his posture and his aim.

The queen clears her throat just as the rider misses the last of the targets and both men spin on their heel give us their attention. The taller of the two males jogs across the field and eliminates the rest of the distance as the queen stops and welcomes him into her arms. His hair is slightly disheveled, about as long as his shoulders and cascading in soft swirls to frame his unique features.

I’d never seen such round, brown eyes before, with his cheek bones high, he almost reminded me of Kibum, in a manlier, taller, tanner, wider-well, no apart from the cheek bones he looked nothing like Kibum at all. I assume that he’s the son the queen has been speaking to me about, the prince. He gives his mother a quick hug and before he can give us a rundown of how one of the boys-Onew, I think his name was-almost fell off the horse, the queen beckons him to halt in order to introduce us.

After the brief introduction she leaves the both of us to stand awkwardly at the field, the breeze and heat not helping our discomfort.

How was I to begin a conversation with a boy as a girl? Did the same laws apply? Would I seem completely off verse if I mentioned something about archery since they were partaking in the activity? Or would that make me seem intimidating? My line of thought is cut short when the prince clears his throat.

I lift my gaze shyly over my fan, my elbows starting to quake from holding it up for so long.

The prince meets my gaze with a small smile, expectant of something that I might want to say. His whole face and neck and whatever else I could see from his clothes was matted thinly with a shine of sweat. He planted both his hands on his waist, looking back at his friends before sparing me another glance.

“I apologize that you had to see me for the first time under these circumstances.” Minho grins. He doesn’t sound like he means it, though. He says it as if this is exactly where he wanted me to see him, beating all of his friends and bathed in sweat, his hair slightly moving with the breeze while the sun hit his features, accentuating each angle just right.

I blink at him, suddenly feeling at ease because I think I know Minho and I know how to play this game. It was just like swordfights with Kibum and Jonghyun when I was little, except with words and wit as weapons.  “I’ve seen worse.”

Minho’s smile doesn’t move but his eyes narrow at my words, obviously not expecting any of it from me. “Yes, well.” He runs a hand through his mop of hair. “May I introduce you to my men?”

His men? Right, because he had no friends. I nod and we walk. And it’s not like I was a real girl, but it may-or may not-have bothered me how he walked ahead of me and didn’t help me or offer me a hand to hold on to. Obviously, I was having a hard time with my attire and I wouldn’t have done the same had the tables been turned. Not that I was imagining the prince in my hanbok. Or, wait. Now, I was.

The boy from before was there, the one who showed me around the palace. Minho introduced him as Lee Onew, the prince’s royal advisor. And the other boy who was on the horse was named Shim Changmin, the general of the royal guards.

Being before the tall gates of the palace and having only been here a few times, it was easy to feel small within the walls and the imaginations I have created in my mind regarding the people that lived here. However, standing here now, and seeing how everything was pretty much the same apart from the obvious luxuries, it was like realizing that the tooth fairy was all a fairy tale… except in a less disappointing way.

Changmin misses two targets by a few inches, nevertheless a good aim in totality but still could use a little improvement. Minho, I found was clueless as to how to interact with people unless they were instructed to bow at his feet. He was hopeless. After introducing me to the others he made no effort to start a conversation with me anymore, instead choosing to let Onew know of where Changmin went wrong with his aim.

“I beg to differ.” I speak into my fan, catching both men’s attention. Finally.

“Pardon?”

“What you were saying about his posture. I don’t think that was it at all. He got everything down apart from his concentration.”

“You know archery?” Minho’s voice is richer when he’s being natural and not trying like the first time he spoke. He and Onew face me with twin bafflement.

“I-well, yes. My brother, Taemin. He taught me what he knew.”

“Had he no male companions? I don’t understand why he would pass lessons of archery to a girl. It’s nothing like cooking or literature.”

Why I was suddenly infuriated by this statement, I will never fully comprehend. But it made me hold my fan away from my face, my muscles relaxing. My brows meet in the middle of my forehead, my lips calmly clipped together. Minho turns to me, blinks, unimpressed. “Actually, he did have male companions, young master. I guess he just always thought that I was a better rival than they were.”

Minho scoffs distastefully, a gesture that makes me want to wrap my git around his head until his lungs die. “I find that extremely implausible.”

“Well, words are rather cheap.” I tuck my fan in the git around my waist. “I suppose showing you would be a better way.”

At this, the prince’s lips quirk into a grin, his eyes wide as he stares down at me while I refuse to do so, instead boring my gaze at the targets ahead, calculating how to get them all in one stride.

Then Minho summons Changmin, asks him to vacate the horse and hands me the equipment. Onew and Changmin stand in the sidelines, clearly entertained. Minho finally offers me a hand when I was just about ready to climb up the horse.

“I don’t want you dirtying your hanbok.”

“I never do.” I ignore his offer, pulling at the reigns enough to hoist myself up, one leg over the torso. All three men gasp outwardly when I sit on the horse the proper way and not sidesaddle as women were meant to. But before it could be any more of an issue I whip the reigns, letting the horse know where to go.

I lead the horse a few good meters away from the targets and ready myself, back bent low.

“Yah!” The horse speeds forward, the breeze turning into a gust of wind that I fight against, keeping myself steady. Once I was nearing the first target, I balance myself up and reach for my first arrow behind me, however, in my haste the side of the spear runs over the band holding my hair together and severs the strap, rendering my hair to freely wave away from my face. I shoot all of the targets; determination etched in every feature of my face, but miss the last one by the slightest of centimeters.

My chest heaves once I’ve reached the opposite end of the targets, the strands of my hair whipping in my face as I calmly ride back to where the trio was. Even before I was brought before them I could already tell how stunned they were, their jaws hanging slack, one eyebrow higher than the other, eyes wide.

This time, when the horse stops before them Onew and Changmin are by my side, colleting the equipment and helping me down. I pat my hanbok down, smiling graciously as I was told how amazing it was and how they will never forget something like that. Then they take the horse with them, inspecting the targets and my precise placement of the arrows.

“I missed the last one.” I say to a wide eyed prince as I tried to get a hold of my fan. The prince paralyzes me with shock when I feel his fingers faintly brush against my cheek and tuck strands of my hair behind my ear.

“I’ve seen worse.”

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-- for linnhe , thy winner of replay4japan and because of the laws of our holy bond (marriage).
since she won and i promised her something with more than 4k this chaptered fic came to play
and i can only hope that it doesn't come off as immature as i think it will. i feel like im losing it or
something. please see ficlist for updates. :) coz i tag my fics now. and life is easier
because of my new found organization HA!