Gyeonga bit her lip hard. She felt wronged and furious, and the words wouldn’t come out right.
“W-why, why...! It’s s-still, n-not... d-done...?”
“I told you. There weren’t enough hands, so there was nobody to cook the gruel.”
“B-but... s-still... Lady Sohae... s-said... she’d... e-eat it...! H-how could you....”
Gyeonga’s face flushed red as she protested.
The kitchen cooks looking down on her wasn’t new. That part didn’t matter.
But this was too much. Ignoring a sick young lady’s meal?
Forcing herself to calm down, Gyeonga tried again.
“E-even now... p-please... h-hurry... and p-prepare it.... Lady... Lady Sohae... is s-sick....”
“Ugh, you’re suffocating. What are you even saying? If you’re unhappy, make it yourself and take it!”
“T-then... g-give me... the i-ingredients! I-I’ll... d-do it....”
“That’s enough. Stop.”
Just as Gyeonga was about to raise her voice, someone grabbed the back of her collar and yanked her out of the way.
“I’ll make it for you, so come out. Gyeonga, you go to Third Madam’s residence instead and tidy up some dishes for me.”
“M-Moonyeong... Sister...!”
Gyeonga’s face brightened at the familiar voice. Moonyeong was the only person in the kitchen who treated her normally.
“And you lot—don’t make it hard on Gyeonga. Do you not know the Medical Hall Master and the Poison King Hall Master have been going rabid trying to get the youngest young lady under their wing lately? Don’t regret it later—watch how you conduct yourselves.”
At Moonyeong’s warning, the cooks flinched and pretended not to hear.
Moonyeong shot them a contemptuous look, then asked Gyeonga,
“So. What do I make? I heard the youngest young lady is sick. Should I boil a chicken for her?”
“C-chicken gruel... would be... g-good....”
“Got it. I’ll prepare chicken gruel, so don’t worry—go.”
Moonyeong smiled and patted Gyeonga’s back. Nodding quickly, Gyeonga hurried out of the kitchen.
The meal was handled, somehow, but her sighs wouldn’t stop leaking out.
How long do I have to keep fighting like this...?
It had been nearly three months since Gyeonga followed Lady Sohae to her new residence and took responsibility for the annex’s meals.
But the household still refused to accept Lady Sohae—who had been working as a maid until recently—as a direct-line young lady.
The kitchen cooks were the same. If Gyeonga didn’t watch them, they were careless with meal prep, and some days—like today—they didn’t prepare anything at all, deliberately putting her in a bind.
Swallowing another sigh, Gyeonga thought,
Don’t let it show to the young lady.
Her life had flipped overnight the moment she was formally entered into the direct line. The young lady was already exhausted—training from dawn to late night, studying texts in between. Gyeonga didn’t want to pile more worries onto her.
“What is it?”
At the thick voice, she looked up. Somehow, she was already in front of Third Madam’s hall. The gatekeeper was staring at her.
Hunching her shoulders, Gyeonga answered timidly.
“I... I’m here... f-from the kitchen... f-for the dishes....”
“Go in.”
Without another word, the gatekeeper pointed to the side door. Bowing, Gyeonga opened it carefully.
She spotted the dishes that the residence maids had stacked in the corner. Gyeonga began transferring them onto a small cart.
That was when a sharp voice cut through the air.
“Why must we wait? She has already begun receiving the Tang Clan’s poison arts. If we leave her alone, she’ll become untouchable.”
“This is not the time, Madam. All eyes are on that bastard right now. Let us watch a little longer.”
At the ominous conversation, Gyeonga’s heart dropped.
A bastard receiving the Tang Clan’s poison arts.
They were talking about Lady Sohae.
Her fingertips trembled, but Gyeonga held her breath and stayed silent. She wanted to know who the person speaking with Third Madam was.
“Do not forget our promise, Grand Elder. Hwayeop must become the Heir Apparent—”
“I know, so stop pressing me. More than anyone, it is this elder who wants that child removed.”
Removed...? Lady Sohae...?
Startled, Gyeonga fumbled a dish. She caught it on reflex, but she couldn’t stop the clink entirely.
The man who had been scolding Third Madam caught the faint sound and barked viciously.
“A rat has crawled in. Who is there?”
Gyeonga pretended she hadn’t heard, lowering herself and continuing to load the cart. She couldn’t show panic.
In that time, the man—who had been hundreds of steps away—cleared the distance in a single bound and yanked her by the shoulder.
“You.”
“Y-yes? Y-you... c-called me...?”
Gyeonga forced herself to look at him, pretending to be calm. Her heart pounded with fear.
The man plotting with Third Madam was Grand Elder Dang-gak.
Dang-gak shook her shoulder, his face twisted with anger.
“What were you doing there? You dared to eavesdrop?”
Gyeonga answered slowly.
“I-I’m... s-sorry.... Grand Elder. I... I... d-don’t... h-hear well. C-could you... p-please... s-speak a... l-little... l-louder...?”
Only then did Dang-gak’s expression loosen.
“Enough. Don’t dawdle. Get out.”
But Third Madam didn’t look willing to let it go. She glared at Dang-gak irritably.
“Is that truly enough? She could run her mouth elsewhere.”
“She says she can barely hear, and she stutters like a fool. Who would listen to her? What would a lowborn know? We’re short on hands as it is—leave her be.”
Dang-gak waved a hand like it was bothersome. Even with the refusal phrased gently, Third Madam didn’t change her stance. She narrowed her long eyes.
“We do not leave loose ends. If you insist on sparing her, then cut out her tongue.”
Third Madam said it coldly.
*****
Once all the noisy visitors were turned away, I felt completely drained. I sprawled across the bedding, limp as a jellyfish.
“Songji. I want to wash my face.”
“Just a moment. I’ll wipe you down with a warm cloth.”
“Okay. Still... Gyeonga’s late.”
“I know. She said she was going to get your gruel, but she hasn’t come back at all. Should I go check?”
“Yeah. Wipe my face after you get back.”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
After sending Songji out, I buried my face in my pillow. It didn’t feel like yesterday—like I was dying—but my body was still heavy.
At this rate, I’d fall asleep before Gyeonga even brought the gruel.
Just as my awareness began to blur into a drowsy haze, I heard Songji scream, her voice cracking.
“Young Lady—Young Lady!”
Startled, I jerked my head up. Songji came running in, tears pouring down her face.
“Y-Young Lady! Something terrible happened!”
“What? Why? What happened?”
“Gyeonga—Gyeonga...!”
“What about Gyeonga?”
I shot upright on the bedding.
*****
Even after the thick, suffocating anesthesia incense cleared, Gyeonga still didn’t regain consciousness.
Her bloodless face was pale as wax.
I gripped Gyeonga’s hand tightly. The icy cold of her fingers turned my stomach.
This morning, she’d been perfectly fine—bringing me basin water, combing my hair.
Now she was hovering between life and death.
“Young Lady....”
Songji sniffled and wiped her eyes. Tears kept dripping from her swollen lids without stopping.
Tang Juhee glanced sideways at Songji and said bluntly,
“Getting your tongue cut won’t kill you. It’s not life-threatening, so stop bawling. Little sister, go back to your residence. Why are you wandering around when you’re sick?”
“I’ll stay a little longer.”
I answered and kept wiping the sweat from Gyeonga’s skin with a plain cloth. She couldn’t even moan—just suffering soundlessly—and my chest ached.
“When will she wake up?” freewёbnoνel.com
“Tomorrow, if we’re lucky. If not, the day after. It takes time for the anesthesia to wear off.”
I nodded and washed my face with stiff, sluggish motions. None of this felt real.
“What happened? Why did this happen to Gyeonga...?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She heard something she wasn’t supposed to hear.”
“What?”
“They cut her tongue so she couldn’t talk. I don’t know what she heard, but she must’ve been taught a lesson. You got unlucky, [N O V E L I G H T] little sister. We’ll have to bring in a new maid.”
Tang Juhee shrugged as if it were nothing.
Maybe my head was still foggy. I couldn’t understand what she was saying.
I got unlucky?
We needed a new maid?
When I didn’t respond, Tang Juhee softened her voice like she was comforting me.
“I get that you’re angry someone touched what’s yours, but treat it like it never happened. The way it was handled—this is clearly Third Madam’s work. If you pick a fight with her, you’ll be the one who loses. You can’t handle Third Madam. I’ll give you one competent maid, so calm down.”
It was the way you talked about a broken tool, not a person.
Every hair on my body rose.
I knew Tang Juhee wasn’t normal from the moment she’d tried to poison me without blinking. But it hadn’t really hit me.
Because I was resistant. It had been like being forced to drink some disgusting fish sauce as punishment—tasted terrible, made me feel awful, but it wasn’t a real threat. So I could shrug it off as she’s just weird.
But now, Tang Juhee felt horrifying.
Even if an animal was bleeding out on the ground, a person felt pity.
If it was a human being, injured—regardless of status—wasn’t there supposed to be some basic compassion?
Tang Juhee had none. The way she looked at Gyeonga wasn’t any warmer than the way you looked at a rock rolling down the road.
Her way of thinking was different at the root. To Tang Juhee, Gyeonga wasn’t a person.
To her, Gyeonga—servants who attended her—were nothing but property you could replace whenever you wanted.
If I hadn’t been entered into the direct line...
If I were still working as a maid...
Then the one lying here with her tongue cut out might not be Gyeonga.
It could’ve been me.
I clapped a hand over my mouth.
“Ugh—!”
“You feel nauseated? Want some sour plum drink? That’s why I told you to go back. Martial artists are all the same—feel a little better and start acting like you’re fine, running around, then you collapse again. Making the physician’s life annoying.”
Tang Juhee supported me and kept grumbling, but I barely heard a word.
Something—sweat or tears, I couldn’t tell—kept spilling out of me. At the same time, pale stomach acid churned and surged up my throat.
Thinking I’d adapted to this world had been a huge illusion.
I hadn’t adapted to the martial world—hadn’t adapted to the Tang Clan—even a little.
I was someone who didn’t belong in this savagery.