Just as Hwaan started to fire back, Hwayeong beat him to it.
“It would be wise to quietly ride the palanquin tomorrow morning. If you refuse, I’ll have a bridal palanquin ready instead.”
A palanquin draped in flowers, unmistakably meant for a bride.
Hwaan clamped his mouth shut.
That, clearly, was a fate worse than death.
Seeing the horror on his face, Hwayeong flashed him a bright, satisfied smile.
“Well then—let’s get the splint on, shall we?”
* * *
“This is outrageous! You can’t do this!”
Hwaan screamed, but Hwayeong remained perfectly calm, crouched at his feet, tying a splint tightly around his very-much-uninjured right ankle.
At the force behind her tug, Hwaan let out a cry.
“I can’t feel my foot!”
“Then I’d better tighten it.”
She pulled again, and another howl echoed through the room.
“I gave you the name! You said you’d go easy!”
When Hwaan protested that she’d tricked him into thinking she’d let him off, Hwayeong replied, utterly unbothered,
