Three Thousand Court Ladies - Chapter 60

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter Sixty
‘That, that, that one there.’
The innkeeper, grasping the situation at once, folded himself nearly in half.
“Welcome, Your Highness. What an honor to receive you.”
“Spare the pleasantries. Surely you still have a room available.”
Cold sweat trickled down the innkeeper’s spine. He hastened to wave his hands in appeasement.
“Surely, surely there must be! Your retinue appears modest in size, so I shall offer you the annex. ……Or would you prefer the main residence?”
“I heard someone of importance has already rented the whole place?”
“Then the main residence would indeed be most proper.”
The innkeeper laughed awkwardly.
“Your party is small. I can afford to be considerate. We’ll take the annex.”
“Your gracious consideration humbles me deeply, sir.”
Buyeo Hui nodded, and Ju-hong promptly paid the lodging fee.
“See that meals are prepared with care.”
“It shall be done without question.”
“I have business to attend to. When this girl arrives later, show her to the rooms.”
Buyeo Hui indicated Sam-cheon. The innkeeper quickly committed their faces to memory and bowed.
“I shall ensure everything is arranged to your satisfaction.”
“That won’t be easy.”
Buyeo Hui answered without warmth and turned to leave. Sam-cheon, relieved of her worry about sleeping rough, stepped toward him.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Buyeo Hui tilted his head slightly and spoke to Irae.
“I must go now. I’m entrusting Sam-cheon to you.”
[Your Highness can trust only me.]
Buyeo Hui smiled faintly. Having received the answer he wanted, he took a step back.
“I’ll see you in Sabi.”
He gazed at her with unmistakable tenderness, then turned without hesitation. Ju-hong exchanged a glance with Sam-cheon before following him swiftly.
Sancho and Arang, who had been trailing at a distance, finally drew near.
Arang pressed close to Sam-cheon’s side and whispered.
“The Crown Prince clearly has taken a fancy to you.”
Sam-cheon drew a short breath and forced a smile as if unbothered.
“He’s known me since childhood, so he looks after me. He’s infinitely kind to those who’ve entered his circle.”
“But when he looks at you, his eyes change entirely.”
“He looks that way at the Crown Prince and Ha-bin too.”
“That may be true, but he keeps putting off his marriage to the Ye family girl.”
That was bound up in political complications.
Ha-bin had prophesied that “the Crown Prince will change.” The enraged Crown Prince had asked Buyeo Hui to maintain the marriage arrangement, to keep Ha-bin from becoming entangled with another house.
Unable to explain these circumstances, Sam-cheon changed the subject.
“Shall we go see the marketplace?”
“Yes!”
As Sam-cheon pulled Arang along, she suddenly glanced back.
Since returning from the battlefield, there had been a subtle shift in Buyeo Hui’s manner.
He had always been affectionate to the household of Mokseo-gung, but now he was warmer still, without a trace of reserve.
‘He must be happy to see us again.’
It had to be that way.
After traveling so long, the Wooden Gate that appeared before her was weathered and shabby. Sam-cheon stood before its creaking frame, staring blankly into the courtyard.
Though traces of repair work dotted the grounds, the house exhaled a desolate air.
“Nothing here is intact.”
From the state of the furnishings, it seemed Sam-cheon had gambled away ten years of her official salary in the cock fighting arena. No wonder a messenger had come demanding treatment fees.
‘Why did he tell me to come here?’
It didn’t matter that she couldn’t fathom his reasons. If she could find her mother’s belongings, the purpose would be served—assuming anything remained at all.
As she passed through the courtyard where sparse weeds had sprouted and reached for the handle of the Inner Room door:
[Wait. Someone’s inside.]
Irae warned her.
Sam-cheon withdrew her hand from the handle and stepped back. She felt no presence, but she trusted Irae’s instinct.
Sam-cheon drew Irae from her inner pocket, gripped it firmly, and called out loudly.
“Arang!”
Instead of an answer, the sound of clashing blades rang out. The successive metallic crashes that followed filled her with dread.
An ambush.
The moment Sam-cheon realized matters had gone seriously wrong, the Inner Room door swung open.
She cast her sheath through the gap and retreated.
“Quick reflexes.”
The man who caught the sheath laughed with a rasping edge.
His smooth, round head resembled a stone pebble, and his voice carried coiled tension. The tall man who emerged behind him drew his sword with a sneer.
“Never thought you’d actually come. You have quite a remarkable father.”
In that instant, her father’s voice returned to her memory.
‘That’s… Go take a look at the house once.’
The fine hairs on Sam-cheon’s neck stood on end.
“Thanks to you, the job got easier. Ambushing a supply wagon on the main road puts us in a tight spot, you see.”
Those words were a blade that pierced her chest.
Now she understood her father’s reaction. It wasn’t awkwardness at meeting the daughter he had sold. It was the shallow guilt of planning to sell her again.
“What did you promise my father in return?”
“Medicine and a bit of coin.”
“His illness—was it the kind that heals easily?”
“No idea.”
So he’d simply been duped and had sold his daughter.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Sam-cheon’s eyes grew hollow. Even as she continued the conversation calmly, she maintained her grip on Irae.
Jo-yak-dol, as if a dagger were beneath his notice, broached the main matter.
“My master wants to see you.”
“Will you tell me who it is?”
“You’ll know when you get there.”
“As you can see, my household has just been devastated. I’m in mourning and would like to postpone the meeting.”
Sam-cheon replied pleasantly while monitoring the sounds from beyond the walls. The clashing of swords and shouts were ominous.
“If you trust your guards out there and act foolishly, you’ll get hurt.”
Sam-cheon trusted Arang and Sancho. But before that, she trusted herself.
The saying went that a servant boy reciting verse after three years at a village school, a soldier of the Gyeon-hwon Army could fell four strong men bare-handed after three years. Even clumsy Sam-cheon had reached a level where she could subdue a thug or two.
And she had a few tricks besides.
“What’ll you do with that scrap of a blade?”
Jo-yak-dol strutted forward, closing the distance.
[A scrap? You dare speak thus of my elegant Sword Spirit? Your eyes are twisted. Go use the privy.]
The moment Irae finished speaking, the tall man who had been standing idly seized his lower belly and twisted in agony.
“I, wait—I need the privy—”
He couldn’t even finish explaining before he bolted toward the back of the house.
One man dealt with. Sam-cheon, emboldened, gripped Irae more firmly. Jo-yak-dol, left alone, scowled as he watched his companion disappear.
“That bastard’s running off—hup.”
Jo-yak-dol, too, couldn’t finish his words. Distress flooded his face.
“I may have been hasty, so my hand might be rougher than intended.”
Unable to follow his companion, Jo-yak-dol forced a rasping laugh. The moment he raised his sword and charged, Sam-cheon thrust Irae forward.
As the blades met, Sam-cheon twisted her wrist, deflecting his blade. The recoil was stronger than expected, shaking her balance slightly, but she pushed through and aimed for his throat.
But Jo-yak-dol, reading the situation, pulled back and swung his sword wide.
The blades clashed again.
Her wrists ached—the difference in strength was considerable. This was no common thug. And a short blade against a long sword had clear limitations.
“Please.”
Sam-cheon muttered softly, feinted a retreat, then attacked with sharp precision. Jo-yak-dol parried again.
As his counterattack was about to come—
[Wretched arthritis!]
Jo-yak-dol’s knee buckled, his body tilting backward.
[Even falling on your back, break your nose!]
Within Irae’s timely curse, Sam-cheon drove toward his heart. Her blade and Irae collided with his.
The recoil sent Jo-yak-dol sprawling backward, blood bursting from his nose. He scrambled to his feet, but his knee wouldn’t obey—his stance crumbled again.
Sam-cheon, seizing the opening, swung Irae.
Jo-yak-dol raised his blade in panic, but couldn’t prevent Irae’s tip from cutting deep across his forearm. Droplets of blood scattered across the dirt.
By then, the point of Sam-cheon’s blade rested against the soft hollow of his throat.
Sam-cheon lowered her voice as far as it would go.
“Kneel.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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