[09] Moyo wa Jua: Heart of the Sun

[pinkelatta]

I'm back from my holiday. I've been sitting on this chapter for the longest time, undecided if I really want the lions' den to turn out like this. I may at some indeterminate time in the future rewrite this part if I feel the need arises. Meantime... I guess the important thing is that the story moves on.

go to: 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

09



Micky informed Jiyong that Seunghyun had arranged for him to be picked up to attend an event outside of the Club, as he had been told the night before.

“A security detail has been arranged for you, he will be stationed right outside the event venue, since it is a private event.”

Jiyong wanted to protest the precaution, but Micky shushed him saying that it was the usual practice to ensure the safety of their employees at external events.

“I insist,” Micky told him. “Even if our clients are high profile society figures with their own security team, we make sure there’s at least one of our own guys keeping an eye on the situation. And this is even more unusual because no one has ever been invited to dinner at Choi Seunghyun’s residential address - not even Jaejoong.”

The latter was unperturbed by the unusual invitation, but fussed over Jiyong like a mother hen for a good two hours before the appointed time, prepping his suit, spraying just the right amount of cologne on him, and muttering an ongoing narrative about table manners, greeting high society strangers and so on. Jiyong was apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, but he found himself wishing for time to hurry up just so he would not be nagged to death by Jaejoong.

At 7 o’clock on the dot, a security staff member came in to inform Jaejoong that the client’s car had arrived.

Jiyong stepped out of the building to see the same man from the night before standing beside the car.

“GD-ssi.” The greeting was perfunctory - there was not even the slightest bow, smile or warmth to it. He had literally done nothing but acknowledge his existence.

“You must be Yesung-ssi,” Jiyong surmised.

A single defined nod of his head confirmed this. He held out a hand away from his body, signaling that Jiyong should get into the car. Jiyong complied, and Yesung got into the car beside him.

Jiyong’s initial attempts at conversation with Yesung failed spectacularly, as Yesung rebuffed him with monosyllabic answers and refused to be drawn out. He gave up and busied himself staring out the window.

They arrived at an imposing gated estate within the UN Village area, with high walls surrounding the house and security guards stationed at the entrance. Jiyong was silent not only because Yesung refused to be engaged in conversation, but also in awe. He had never seen a house this grand, not even had a reason to be near one. The wrought iron gate was painted in a shade of gold that boasted without being vulgar. The car wound up a driveway that curved round greenery designed to hide the house from the main gate. It was not a long ride, but Jiyong was already impressed that so much space could be afforded for something as useless as a garden within such a prime district. The house itself was like something out of a fairytale, an elaborate baroque-styled structure painted in white with a grey roof.

Exiting the car, Jiyong noted how the large amount of greenery made the air clearer, fresher here than in the parts of Itaewon he frequented. It was a refreshing feeling. But there was an oppressive sense of foreboding that he sensed emanating from the house that weighed on the shoulders of the staff tending to the door, to the car - and he carried it up the stairs and over the threshold.

So this is how it felt to enter a lion’s den.

Jiyong couldn’t help but snort at the ridiculously literal use of the phrase. Yesung showed him into a reception room that had been furnished in a classical European style, ornate chairs competing with high windows hung with rich drapery and heavy chandeliers for attention. It was completely different from the calculated opulence at Club Ciél. No one else was in the room, but there was nothing of interest to occupy Jiyong so he simply made himself as comfortable as he dared in a chair.

The room was not often-used. Jiyong’s nose told him that. It was clean and certainly not neglected, but he could tell that it was not lived-in. He supposed that in such a large house, there must be many rooms that were not often used, although a part of him found it hard to fathom just how many rooms of what size such a house would contain.

He didn’t have much idle time before Yesung returned to the room with an invitation - more like an instruction, really - to the hall. He was led deeper into the house, where the complexity of multiple scents grew and served only to confuse Jiyong more. There were many people, it seemed, with rather intimidating scents, living or lurking in the house.

Yesung opened a door and stood aside to allow Jiyong entrance. Stepping through it, he stopped short - Seunghyun sat in a heavy wood-carved chair upholstered in dark leather at the far end of what looked like a more lived-in, modern family room. On a longer couch to his left was a lady with bright honey blonde-dyed hair, next to a young man who might have been his age. Scattered in other chairs around were a few ladies of various ages. Yesung did not withdraw this time. Instead, he closed the door behind him and moved towards the group. Jiyong followed his lead, drawing closer to the gathering despite the sudden prickling of his scalp from all the unfamiliar auras combined. He stopped a short distance away from them and bowed deeply to them all, greeting them with the most polite “annyeonghaseyo, GD imnida” he had ever offered in his life.

Seunghyun was the first to speak, instructing him to “have a seat” in a chair that faced his own.

“I’m glad you came, GD-ssi.”

How could I not?

“Thank you for your invitation,” Jiyong mustered.

“I heard you encountered some gumiho last night.”

Jiyong looked briefly at Yesung, whose face did not betray any hint of emotion. “Well, that’s what Yesung-ssi said.”

“Well, they can be a little hard to refuse,” Seunghyun smiled, a brief one that lit up his handsome face before it was gone as quickly as it came. “But that’s the kind of danger I was referring to before - they are always on the prowl for Strays who won’t be missed.”

“I… I’ll be more careful in future.”

“That’s why I have gathered everyone here this evening,” Seunghyun appeared to be embarking on some kind of speech. “I have decided to adopt GD-ssi here into our pride until he is able to locate a family unit of his own.”

The other people in the room began to shift, looking at one another although none spoke. Only the lady on Seunghyun’s left remained impassive, thoroughly unsurprised.

“GD-ssi, this is my pride.” Seunghyun gestured expansively at the collection of people around him. “The House of the Sun. We are the only pride of Mfalme in Korea, but any lycan in Asia will know who we are.”

Jiyong swallowed. It sounded horribly intimidating.

“This is my Regina, ChaeRin.”

The blonde-haired lady inclined her head. She had small eyes set in an equally small face, but they had a decidedly feline slant to them. She wore a black bustier that emphasized how slim she was, but something about her announced that she wasn’t someone to trifle with.

Jiyong bowed politely, unsure what else to say.

“My Credo, second in command, Dongwook.” A small cough from the shadows behind Jiyong prompted him to turn around and bow to a tall, trim man in a white outfit that wasn’t a suit but almost as smart. He was as handsome as Seunghyun himself, but with a more delicate appeal. He seemed nice enough, nodding and smiling a little in acknowledgement of Jiyong’s greeting.

“You’ve met my Umbra, Yesung.” The man in question remained unmoving, and Jiyong deemed it wiser to bow once more than to leave it, even though he had already greeted him earlier.

“My son, Hongki.” The young man who had been seated beside ChaeRin did not react, his dashing features carved into a sneer that plainly said he wasn’t enjoying this. Seunghyun did not look old enough to have an adult son… but Jiyong reminded himself that Seunghyun was much older than he looked.

A bob-haired girl who looked about fourteen wiggled her fingers at him. She seemed nice. “My daughter Minzy.”

“My sister, Jiyeon.” An older lady wearing a black trouser suit nodded at him. She looked to be in her late thirties. Her face was set in lines that suggested she could be harsh and serious most of the time.

“Bomie, Dara, Chaeyeon.” He named the remaining ladies seated without attaching any titles to them. He wondered what that meant.

“A pride is a family. We do not keep secrets from one another. There are many things to learn about living as part of a pride, and for you it may be even harder because you were not born into one. Much as you may not enjoy some aspects of it, you will soon come to see that it’s your best chance at survival.”

Jiyong remained silent, feeling entirely out of his depth.

“What is your real name?”

“K- Kwon Jiyong.”

“Where do you come from, and how did you come to be infected?”

“I grew up in Taiwan. I was sent to live here with my aunt nearly two months ago.” A pause. “I don’t know how I came to be infected.”

“Does your family know about this?”

Jiyong shook his head.

“You’re not in touch with them anymore?”

Again, he shook his head.

“There’s something you’re not telling us, Jiyong.”

“I…”

“We can’t help you unless you are honest with us.”

“He’s the boy, Seunghyun,” Jiyeon interjected quietly.

Jiyong looked at her, unsure what she meant.

“You are the boy from Mokpo, aren’t you?” Jiyeon’s face was stern.

Jiyong felt his own face pale at the mention of Mokpo.

“You killed your cousin, and ran away.”

Jiyong’s blood ran cold at her words. There wasn’t anywhere he could run to, now. “It… it was an accident! I swear, I didn’t mean to do it, I don’t know what happened, I didn’t know…” Tears began to sting his eyes - he’d run away for so long, he thought it wouldn’t catch up with him so soon, here…

“Hush, child.” Jiyeon’s face was no longer stern. “That was when you found out?”

Jiyong nodded, tears still shining in his eyes. The other members of the pride seemed to be taking it all very well - he wondered if they had all known beforehand.

“Well,” Seunghyun spoke, his voice calm. “Jiyong, you have my word that we will protect you for now, so you won’t need to worry on that count. You have hidden yourself fairly well all this while. But if you breathe a word about your identity, or break any of the pride’s rules, we will withdraw our protection. Is that clear?”

Jiyong nodded, and he wiped his nose with a sleeve as unobtrusively as he could manage.

“We will not bond you to the pride for the time being. Dongwook.”

The fair man with the kind eyes stepped out of the corner he had been standing in.

“Dongwook will be your guide. He will teach you everything you need to know about being a lycan.”

Dongwook made an elegant bow of obedience, then looked pointedly at Jiyong with a jerk of his head.

Stumblingly, Jiyong thanked Seunghyun with an awkward bow, distinctly getting the impression that he was being bestowed a great favour.

“You may continue to work at Club Ciél, if that is your preference.” This, Jiyong knew how to appreciate. “But you will stay with Dongwook.”

“With Dongwook-ssi?” The original agreement to stay with Taeyang and Daesung rushed to the forefront of his mind, and he tripped over his own tongue wanting to explain that he already had living arrangements. “But I -“

“Jiyong,” Dongwook silenced his protests with a frown. “Mfalme is doing what is best for you.”

“That being settled,” stated Seunghyun as if Jiyong had agreed, “shall we eat?”

He left the room without waiting for a response. Chaerin stood up, followed by Hongki. They moved out of the room, followed by Yesung and the other ladies. Minzy tailed along behind Chaeyeon, but stopped to smile at Jiyong.

“Minzy,” hissed Chaeyeon from outside the door. The girl disappeared with a sheepish smile.

That left Dongwook and Jiyong alone in the room staring at the recently vacated chairs.

“Lesson number one: pride table manners,” smiled Dongwook.

Jiyong found himself liking the man already.

next >>