Title: Merchant of Death

Author: setlib

Rating: T-rated for violence

Pairings: Gu Dong-mae x Ae-sin

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any characters from Mr. Sunshine. References to historical persons and events are used in entirely fictitious ways.

NOTE TO READERS - Please don't skip over the middle chapters, especially the odd-numbered ones that are from Gu Dong-mae's point of view, like #5, #7 and #9. They introduce important characters and set up future events!

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

Merchant of Death, Chapter 10: Honey and Hurt
Hanseong, Joseon. Fall 1885.

I leaned closer to the paper screen, drawn to the whispers and giggles coming from unni's room. Ae-sun was nearly fifteen years old, and grandfather had chosen today as the most auspicious time to hold her gyerye celebration. Afterwards she would officially be a woman, and soon her engagement would almost certainly be announced. I tried not to be jealous of all the activity that swirled around her - a feast laid out, neighboring women filling the courtyard with gifts, their daughters fawning over my cousin. She had always loved being the center of attention, and today her excitement was at a fever pitch.

"Ms. Haman!" The screen slid open with a sharp crack, Ae-sun leaning out of the doorframe to call down the hall to the kitchen. "What's taking so long? We're out of tea!" She looked down and spotted me crouched outside the door, her lip curling with disgust.

I tried to distract her with some flattery before she could send me away. "Unni, you're so pretty today! The sagyusam is beautiful on you."

Ae-sun straightened proudly and ran her hands down the front of the ceremonial green silk jacket. It was split into four panels at her waist, the edges embroidered in black and lined with lucky symbols. I peered behind her to see the other young girls helping themselves to the trays of tea and cakes in her room, passing around a precious jar of honey to add even more sweetness. A table held the ceremonial cap and hair rod that would later mark her transition from the long braid of a young girl to the elegantly twisted chignon of an adult woman. But age did not always bring maturity, and she stared down at me with eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Little pest, scurrying outside the door like a rat. Go away. No one wants you here."

I blushed with embarrassment. I could see her guests leaning to get a look at me, covering their mouths with their hands to stifle more giggles.

"But Ms. Haman said I could join-"

Ae-sun leaned down and grabbed my arm roughly, dragging me up and after her as she stalked down the hall. "You want to join us? There's one thing I need you to do."

"Of course! I'll help-"

"Shhh!" Finger to her lips and a scowl on her face, Ae-sun paused outside the kitchen door. The servants were focused on the delicate process of deep-frying a fresh batch of yakgwa, the sweet, flower-shaped cakes floating in hot sesame oil before being drained and then soaked in honey-ginger syrup. Ae-sun and her friends had been snacking on them all morning but I hadn't gotten one yet. My mouth watered at the smell, and I was so distracted that I almost didn't notice when she reached into the kitchen and swiped the keys to the storage shed when no one was looking.

"What are you-"

"Keep your mouth shut," she growled, yanking me down the stairs. I barely had time to slip on a pair of shoes before she dragged me through the back garden, past the well, until I could no longer hear the sound of talking by our neighbors gathered in the front courtyard for her ceremony. She used the key to unlock the shed, then pushed me inside. I tripped over the threshold and fell hard on my knees with a cry.

"Unni, why are you mad at me? What did I do?" I braced myself against the rough wooden planks of the storehouse floor and turned to look up at her.

She crossed her arms and laughed. "What did you do? You were born. That's what you did. Your very existence is an embarrassment to me, and brings shame upon our whole family. Do you actually think that my friends and I would let a bastard join us?"

Shock hit me like a blow to my gut, robbing me of the air in my lungs. "I'm not!" I gasped. "I'm your cousin!"

"Oh, you might be my uncle's child, but what do we know about your mother?" she said with a sneer. "Probably some whore or thief who seduced him after he went to Japan. We don't know for sure that they were ever really married. We don't know anything about her family. Was she even Korean? For all we know, you could be a slave's child, a butcher's brat, or a half-Japanese mongrel."

I shook my head but couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to contradict her. Because everything she said was true. I had never known my parents. Never even seen their faces. They both died in Japan shortly after I was born. I was delivered to my grandfather's house in Hanseong as an orphaned infant accompanied only by two urns holding the soft ashes of my parents. But as many times as I had felt the sharp sting of loneliness, had wondered what my parents had been like, it had never occured to me to be afraid of the answer.

"Your mother must have been a strange woman, and that's why you've got such odd ways." She snorted. "Ignoring your needlepoint, and spending all day trying to learn Chinese. Why? Education is useless for a woman! No wonder the other girls don't want to play with you."

Ae-sun leaned down and stuck a finger in my face. "Don't you dare show yourself again and try to ruin my special day. No one's going to miss you. No one wants you here anyway." With that she slammed the shed door closed and secured the lock with a cold metal click.

I sat frozen on the floor, listening to the receding sound of her footsteps as she stalked away. My stomach churned as if I needed to throw up. Did people think there was something foul inside me? Some tainted blood that showed itself in my words, my actions? I already knew my behavior was a direct reflection on my family. But to think that my mistakes would lead others to conclude that my mother was beneath contempt - that was a terrible responsibility. I was the only one left in the world who could defend her honor.

I knew what I had to do. I would prove to everyone that my mother was a noble woman, not a thief or a mongrel. I would demonstrate this every day through my impeccable behavior, my poise, my elegance. My face would become a mask, frozen in a state of perfect propriety. I would be unfailingly polite, obedient, and respectful. I would become the embodiment of aristocratic confidence. All my unruly fears, my impatience, my desires, I would hide, deep down, and make sure Ae-sun and the other girls never glimpsed those weaknesses again, could never use them as weapons against my parents' honor.

As the sun set, sending sharp rays of light to pierce between the boards of the storehouse door, I sat with my arms around my knees. Hours passed as the guests feasted and left, and our household visited the ancestral tablets to complete the ceremony. The early autumn night grew cold, and still no one came to find me. I was shivering by the time I heard Ms. Haman frantically calling my name, but I responded calmly. By the time the key was sent for and the door unlocked, I had straightened painfully and set an impartial expression upon my face. Ms. Haman burst through the doorway, holding a lantern high, groaning with relief when she found me. She pulled me to her in a tight embrace, sniffling, but I didn't match her tears with any of my own.

"No need to cry, Ms. Haman. I'm quite well," I said, pulling back stiffly.

"Have you been here all this time?" She leaned closer to look at my face. "How did you get locked in here?"

"I locked her in," Ae-sun said from outside. I stepped over the threshold to find the servants, Aunt Jo, even Grandfather gathering in the back courtyard.

Aunt Jo frowned. "Why would you do something like that?"

Ae-sun held out an empty jar of honey. "I caught her stealing from the storeroom."

I felt a gasp of shock rise up and bit it back. I held my tongue, smoothed my expression, and maintained an outward mask of calm.

"That can't be," Ms. Haman protested, following me out of the storeroom. She turned to Aunt Jo. "Agassi would never do something like that."

"I'm not a thief," I said quietly, proud of the steadiness of my voice.

"She was jealous of me," Ae-sun insisted. "She was going to try to ruin my special day. I had to lock her up until the guests had left."

Grandfather held up a hand to stop the argument. "Ae-sun is the elder. As an adult, we must believe what she said." He turned to Aunt Jo. "Administer a punishment of ten lashes for theft."

Ms. Haman howled, following after Grandfather as he left the courtyard and begging him to reconsider. The other servants rubbed their hands together, pleading for mercy, but I kept my lips tightly sealed. I would not be seen grovelling.

Ae-sun folded her arms with a satisfied smirk. "Serves you right-"

"Quiet, you," Aunt Jo snapped. "You've done quite enough for one day. Leave us." Ae-sun spun with a flounce of silk and stalked back to the house. Aunt Jo stepped past me into the storeroom, returning shortly with a thin bamboo stick. "I'm sorry about this," she said, raising a hand to my shoulder.

I sidestepped, avoiding her touch. "Of course you should believe your own daughter." I left it unsaid that, if my own mother were here, she'd surely argue on my behalf.

Aunt Jo shook her head. "I know Ae-sun all too well. Which is why I don't believe her."

I nodded slightly in acknowledgement before walking to the pyung-sang, slipping off my shoes and stepping up onto the wooden bench. I hadn't been lashed in years, not since I knocked over my oil lamp and nearly set fire to the house when I was five years old. The injustice of it burned my heart, but my new resolve would not waver. I would behave as a noblewoman should, submitting without complaint. I may still be a child, but I would demonstrate all the integrity and maturity that my cousin lacked. The male servants turned away out of respect as I pulled up my chima and several layers of silken underskirts and bloomers to reveal a portion of my bare legs over my socks.

Without another word of apology, Aunt Jo carried out her duty as well, standing beside me and delivering a sharp crack across my calves. I flinched the first time, but took firm hold of myself and stayed frozen in place for each lash after that, my gaze trained into the distance and my breathing forced to remain slow and calm. It wasn't until Ms. Haman reappeared toward the end and I saw the agony on her face that my first tears began to well in response, but I held them back. It was not the pain that upset me, although of course the lashes hurt. It was the dishonor to my parents, through me, that I would do anything to avoid.

That night, Ms. Haman was unusually quiet as she helped me prepare for bed. She didn't say a word as she spread salve over my tender calves, her lips pressed tight together. She spent extra time brushing my hair, taking out the camellia oil and smoothing it through every strand of hair with her fingers as she sat behind me. I felt myself relax under her care, until finally the fear that had been worrying at the edges of my mind all day slipped out.

"Do you think my parents would be proud of me?"

Her fingers faltered, stilled. She drew in a shaky breath before resuming her task. "I was still young when I started working in the house, but I remember the young master was 15 years old when I first met him. You remind me of him so much."

I turned to look at her in surprise. "I do? How?"

"You got your beauty from him. He had a nice smooth forehead and a straight nose, just like you." She touched the tip of my nose with her finger, leaving a drop of sweet-scented camellia oil behind, and I felt myself smile. "When I look at you - your eyes when you're stubborn, your lips when you're upset - are just like your father's. I get so surprised."

"Besides my appearance, though, what about the way I act? Did he get into trouble too?"

Ms. Haman took my hands between her own. "You're smart like he was. And exact in everything. But also nice to the servants. Everyone who worked here adored Master Sang-wan, just like they adore you. But," her voice lowered to a whisper and she leaned closer as if sharing a secret, "he was scared of everything."

That startled a laugh out of me. "What do you mean?"

"Snakes. Spiders. Even tiny little mice. Everything would make him jump. He was so easily startled. So, you must have got it from your mother."

"What?"

She stroked my cheek. "Your courage, Agassi. Your boldness. Your mother must have been an incredibly brave woman. I saw her in you tonight, when you stood so straight and strong. She probably wasn't an obedient woman, because you're not an obedient child. But when I see you stand up for what you believe is just, then I know - your mother must have been a righteous woman." She pulled me close for a hug and whispered in my hair. "I know your parents are looking down on you right now, and they're so, so proud."

The tears came now; nothing could have held them back. I buried my face in Ms. Haman's warm shoulder and wept with regret for the parents I would never know, wept with frustration for the injustices I had to face, and wept with gratitude for Ms. Haman's steadfast support.

I would honor my parents with my life by being smart and kind like my father, so that I would be respected like he was. But I wouldn't be afraid to be disobedient every now and then, if the cause was just.

I was, after all, my mother's daughter too.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

GLOSSARY:

Gyerye / Kyerye - Coming-of-age ceremony for Korean girls. In the Joseon Dynasty it was typically held by age fifteen or before the girl was married. In modern times, this ceremony is celebrated on the third Monday in May for all men or women turning nineteen years old that year. For boys it's called Gwallye/Kwallye.

Pyung-sang - Outdoor flat wooden table, often used for sitting like a bench.

Sagyusam - Special green jacket, with broad sleeves, embroidered edges, and divided in the center, worn by a girl at her gyerye.
Unni - Korean term meaning older sister.

Yakgwa (or Gwajul) - Type of sweet Korean confection (yumil-gwa or hangwa) for special celebrations made from wheat flour, sesame, wine and ginger; deep-fried and soaked in honey. Yakgwa is a small size, sometimes flower-shaped, and in recent times, somewhat flat.

WORKS CONSULTED:

Achillesbriseis. "Joseon Fashion Show. Lingerie and Underwear Special Edition." Feeding My Procrastination, Wordpress, 24 May 2013.

Cho, Hyo-soon. "Korean Clothes and Fabrics." Koreana: Korean Art & Culture, vol. 9, no. 3, Fall 1995, pp. 12-19. Issuu.

Lee, E-Wha. Korea's Pastimes and Customs: A Social History. Translated by Ju-Hee Park, Homa & Sekey Books, 2006.

Williams, Victoria. Celebrating Life Customs around the World: From Baby Showers to Funerals. ABC-CLIO, 2016.

Yun, Seo-seok. Festive Occasions: The Customs in Korea. Seoul, Ewha Womans UP, 2008.