Jia pulled her hood up farther over her head. She had to be sure no one would recognize her before she got outside. She’d never hear the end of it from her father if she were found out. She glanced behind her one more time before slipping out the back door. She’d forgotten what fresh air smelled like. Living in the castle was suffocating.
She pulled her hood down, letting the spring breeze wash over her face. She sighed, wondering how it would be to live as a commoner. She envied the maids running around the castle in loose, beige hanboks every day. They had a life, unlike her. Every day she was shaped and branded into what would one day be future ruler material. If she could find a decent husband, that was.
She was at least glad that no one knew her face here. She could run around without the fear of being turned in to a palace guard and returned to her locked tower.
She wished she had a place to store her hooded, black undershirt. Somewhere other than her body, that was. It made her sweat more than she already was in her blue-hemmed beige hanbok. But she had to have covering for when she snuck back in this evening, so she resulted in hiding it behind her dark chocolate hair. She looked like every other girl in this town with her hair pulled up into two small braids at the crown of her head, the rest of her long hair free-falling down her back.
She dug into her pocket for the coins she had placed there. She wondered how much they were worth in the market. She hoped she at least had enough for a bean bun to keep her full this afternoon.
She’d been smart enough to read a few books before sneaking out, at least she knew a little about how to blend in in town, but she was still nervous. Nevertheless, she skipped into the market, trying her best to look like she’d been here before. She looked around for the bread stall, but before she could even find it, two loud voices found her ears.
“I told you, kid! I don’t serve anyone from neighboring kingdoms! Especially not Daegu!”
“Uncle, please? You know I’m here on official duty. Is it right to let me starve?”
“Yes! Your ancestors slaughtered many of mine! That’s more than enough reason to deny you service! Now shoo before I call one of the guards!”
Jia looked between them. Well. She’d found the bread vendor, at least. She watched as the young man turned away from the bread stall, his shoulders slumped. She looked him up and down. His blue and purple hanbok was fit to his frame and a sword hung from his belt. She was shocked the bread vendor had been willing to argue with a guy armed with a sword.
“Can I help you?”
She looked up, now being face-to-face with the young man she had been admiring a moment ago.
“Ahm…I’m sorry?”
“You don’t realize you were staring, do you?”
“Oh…no, I’m sorry. I got lost in thought.” She paused, looking at the vendor before returning her eyes to the man in front of her. “Would you like me to get you something from the bread stall?”
The man raised his eyebrows. “You heard our conversation?”
Jia nodded. “I’m surprised he argued with a man who was armed.”
He chuckled. “All right. You can get me three bean buns. As long as he doesn’t give you too much trouble.” He pulled a few coin from is pocket, slipping them into her hand. “Use these. And keep the change.” He looked her up and down. “I think you need it more than I’ll ever.”
“Oh…um…all right. I’ll be back.” She glanced around before her eyes found a fountain in the middle of the square. “Meet me at the fountain.”
She had no problem with the vendor. He happily complied with her request for five bean buns, even slipping in an extra one without her knowledge. He had clearly not seen her exchange with the man in the blue and purple hanbok.
They met at the fountain five minutes later, and she gave him his three bean buns.
“I could’ve sworn I ordered five. And I only payed for five,” she commented, recounting the bean buns.
“Well, you’re not from Busan. Or at least, if you are you don’t look it. He probably treats the locals like his children. Surely you’ve been there before.”
Jia shook her head. “Never. I…” She searched for a plausible excuse. “I live in the country. I’m rarely up in town. Honestly…” She glanced around before lowering her voice so only he could hear. “I’ve never been here before, not that I remember.”
The man raised his eyebrow. “You’ve never been here? But you live in Pohang?”
“Yes.”
“All right…” He paused for a moment before commenting. “You sure you’re not a spy? Should I request my change back? I wouldn’t want to be associated with a spy.”
Jia laughed. “I’d be a horrible spy. I’d probably reveal my identity before my quest even began.” She blew out a breath before whispering, “Besides, what woman is allowed to do government work like that?”
“That’s true. Women aren’t allowed to do government work. Although, come to think of it, since it’s illegal, it’d make it easier for women to spy without being discovered. Why don’t they think of that?” He reflected before returning to chewing his bean bun.
Jia nodded, not quite listening anymore. She was starting to wonder what she really wanted to do with her life. If she had a choice. It wasn’t like women really had much respect anywhere. She couldn’t just run off and spend her life on her own. Men would try to dominate her, take her as a piece of their property instead of treating her like a human. That’s all women were to men. Property. Even her mother, the woman who was legally wedded to the king, was treated like his property. Her father had always told her that she was lucky she had no full blood brothers. If she had, she’d be nothing but an object to be used to form a peace treaty with some neighboring kingdom. Really, she had many brothers, but they weren’t the Queen’s, so they weren’t heirs to the throne. Even though many of them were older than her.
“Well,” the man in the blue and purple hanbok turned to her suddenly, breaking her from her reverie. “I need to go. Maybe I’ll see you again?”
Jia nodded. “Um…ok…yeah?”
He smiled and stood up, bowing slightly to her. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.
“Wait!” Jia called after him. “I didn’t get your name…”
