I am not one with power. I AM power.

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The Kangs, revered for their contributions to the Office of Inspection ​(Saheonbu), received nearly as much respect as their Yangban colleagues. ​however, this respect has been jeopardized ever since the murder of her ​father, Kang Dongmin. The circumstances of his murder remained ​mysterious, barely a trail of hints left in her wake. The rarity of goosebumps ​that pinpricked her skin gave her the premonition that the silence and lack ​of details are not adding up. Even worse, they add up too conveniently and ​left her at a constant state of unrest. Anxiety gnawed at her bones as ​proceeding through the investigation felt like walking into a mirage, where ​everything and anything was obscured by the dark. And that was on the eve ​of spring in 1863.

Born to a respected official and a former lowly kisaeng, Heejin was the ​second eldest of a family of four and the eldest daughter as well. Being a ​woman had its limits and bounds but none of them held over her dreams ​and ambitions. occasional spats in the form of ‘mutt’, ‘half-breed’, and a ​‘lame cygnet’ never barred her pursuit. In the state of privilege she was in, ​they were well within her reach. Although, it did not come without extra ​strain on her person.

As a young girl, she was an avid reader, even to the extent of becoming a ​speed reader. Despite favoring a more straightforward style in speech, she ​participated in poetry competitions in passing. competition was as common ​as breathing within her clan, given the nature of the gwageo.

Medicine, geography, astronomy, and translation, were one of the many ​topics covered on the intense exam, as well as writing and knowledge of ​confucianist classics. However, the topic that always intrigued her the most ​was politics.

With the elegies written by the gayageum reverberating in her hanok, ​music was the one language she could never grasp, evident in the shrill ​notes only her voice can manage to hit.

Feeling akin to marching into a lion’s den was the best description for ​her path as a royal investigator. The rigorous exams were just one part; ​the amount of targets on her back that followed her wherever she went ​was another. Moreover, the patronization she received from both men ​and women was a nuisance. Men complimented her only to take her to ​their pellets, and some women viewed her as a threat, especially those ​in office. Her pride swelled too much for her to admit, but she was ​forced to keep herself on her own toes, wary of everyone.

Law, and her own life experiences taught her to be guarded, shrewd, ​and not to let herself be beguiled by one's charms. However, there are ​some who managed to come close to warming her stone cold heart. And ​just when they thawed it, her heart froze once again.

Driven, ambitious, and ​cunning are far from the ​only words from describing ​Heejin. As brutal in her ​words as she can be, she ​also knew when to use tact.

Niceties, saving face, and ​surface level politeness ​were king in Joseon society, ​and it wouldn't be so smart ​to not use that to her ​advantage. Though, she ​would never say this out ​loud, but it hurt not to be ​truthful to her feelings and ​often she felt censored by ​those around her.

a jungin clan who hailed from gapyeong, gyoju-do, the kangs were ​revered for their contributions to politics, especially under the ​office of inspection (saheonbu) as inspectors. the male members ​were known for their aggressive approach. it has been assumed ​being just below the yangban class driven them to work harder ​than the rest, often hands on during the investigations.

however, this changed as kang dongmin (the former head of the ​clan) was murdered and after a year of no new information, the ​case was closed. typically the female members of the family were ​typecasted as musicians, but the lack of details regarding her ​father's case unnerved heejin.

< 1858 Social Season >

Part of the lower half of Joseon’s upper echelon, Heejin neutrally ​perceived her chances of winning to be lower than those in the ​yangban classes. Her outspoken nature was worn stubbornly with pride, ​a trait associated with the family of the Saheonbu. But that is not to ​say she did not adopt a chameleon-like adaptability to adopt the ​niceties expected out of women at the time. Like a young cygnet, she ​was raised under her mother’s wing and was shown the proper ways to ​be a lady. Lined up in a row were the young women in her best dress, ​hair nicely done and held together by binyeo, standing across the men ​in their neatly pressed durumagi. Although she kept her expectations ​low, her soonhye, wounded tightly around her feet, betrayed her ​sensibilities.

Waiting for a name to be resounded in these resplendent halls with ​bated breath was a pasttime in the galas. Sconces placed on the wall ​placed a warm glow over the cool interior, soothing the anxieties ​radiating from young candidates for the titles.

Surprise came at her when she was pronounced to be the Diamond of ​the Season during the ball that year. Well regarded by the ton by her ​family’s contributions, she cannot say she was not worthy for the title, ​despite the stiff competition from ladies higher than her station. At ​first, she felt like it was undeserved. But as soon as she stepped ​forward to engage in a dance with the bachelor that year, the feelings ​of surprise faded and she reveled in the title bestowed upon her by the ​court.

< Summer in 1865 — In some unnamed village >

Given the nature of her job, travel became as natural to her as ​breathing. Along with the pacing of her breathing are her feet ​moving with agility along the next adventure. Her travels, ​however, weren’t always ones palatable for written fiction in light ​novels. The horrors, the gruesomeness of people’s actions at their ​worst, and cannot be sanitized for public consumption or to be ​heralded as merely morally dubious.

As dangerous as it can be however, she lived for the thrill of ​uncovering such criminals’ lies and their actions, leaving them to ​be executed or to be in exile. Though, in her opinion, the latter ​was rather generous for those who commit wrong.

When she found herself at a tavern, and the inn, it was rare for ​her to engage in light conversation, or conversation that did not ​involve gossip, trade secrets, or gleaning information on runaways ​as her part time gig as espionage. But here she was, sitting next to ​Jinhee her friend, maybe a little more. If that is even allowed? ​This type of uncertainty is new to her. The unpredictability, the ​loose ends. They are not asking to be solved; they are asking to be /​felt/.

Yet Jinhee provided her a comfort, a conduit of vulnerability a ​man was unable to provide for her, or anyone else for that matter. ​Contrary to the harsh words she usually received for feeling at all, ​Jinhee enabled it, to feel every storm and wind surge and ripple ​through her.

Though she can’t say she is wholly unfeeling, there always ​appeared to be a barrier within herself and her subconscious, only ​unlocked while she was on the go. And the woman sitting beside ​her by the tavern managed to crack at it, radiating with her ​warmth.

After many hours of vulnerabilities exposed, layers being peeled, ​Heejin felt it was a reprieve, to truly feel the void that nested ​within her for many months. Her father, an aspirational man and ​political figure, was materialized through the stories the woman ​told of him. He had a particular fancy for swans, he spoke about ​pears in ire while bitter melons were spoken with desire. When ​Heejin was a young girl, her father helped her mom pick the ​softest material for a swaddle. He aided her in ridding the unused ​music parchments, languished in the hearth without her mother ​knowing.

Underneath his tough exterior, he was a loving father to all of his ​daughters, and her one brother. In return, she listened to the ​wistful words from her “friend”, clearly in deep mourning towards ​her late husband. Hyunsik was a name she heard more times than ​she willingly like to hear, not out of envy or hatred. Moreso, she ​did not want to see Jinhee in dampened spirits as time stretched ​across many acres, awash with tears over someone who would ​never come back to her.

It became white noise to her, and usually she would interrupt with ​an unsympathetic comment, though this occurrence is during her ​sobriety. However, her sensibilities, as well as her snark, muted ​under the wine, so she opted to listen thoroughly. Without any ​hint of derision in her voice, she requested the woman in a hushed ​whisper, so quiet not even the bartender nearby could capture.

“My friend, let us escape from here—away from here, and ​everyone—and let me make you feel the way Hyunsik did that ​one night.” She sounded like a madwoman, but if she were to ​pick a time to be one, the time would be at this moment.

Shortly, Heejin and Jinhee found themselves in an area more ​secluded, more quiet. The only hints of noise were the rustles ​from their hanboks, breaths exchanged in tandem. Hair ​cascaded down their backs as they expose the barest of their ​souls, just the two of them.

In the morning, she slowly opened her eyes as she woke up, ​someone’s body in her arms. Inebriated, she did not fully ​recall even settling into bed with another, but she was not ​exactly mad about it either. She trusted that the lapse in ​memory will fill in the gaps themselves in due time. Before ​the sun rises at its peak midday, Heejin cuddled under the ​quilted blankets with her companion, Jinhee. Uncertainty ​etched on her face; the questions writing themselves in her ​mind and out loud. Meanwhile, at once, Heejin let the ​butterflies roam freely within her stomach and not kept ​within the cage of her obstinance.

“Jinhee-yah. No need to bother with such senseless questions. ​I do not mind this… being with you.”

Light rouge tinted her cheeks. Her heart thrummed within ​her chest, feeling Jinhee’s heart at the same rhythm as she ​held her close, and lay a hand near her sternum. She tucked ​her shoulder under her chin, as they rested a little longer ​under the blankets. Inevitably, they had to part ways as soon ​as they rose from the pellet.