1st 5 Pages December Workshop - Mahoney Rev 2

Name: Vivian Lee Mahoney
Genre: YA
Title: The Rebel Queen


I was born with my eyes open, an oddity that spurred gossip and encouraged matchmakers to find other baby girls to promise to the village boys. Mother and Father didn’t mind when none of the village families claimed me. They saw my life’s beginning as an auspicious sign―a way for me to always see the truth behind the falsities of life―and named me Jin-Ae, Truthful Treasure. How they smiled when I spotted the slight-of-hand merchant who tried to cheat Father with fake pearls that crushed into dust, or the traveling farmer who weighed down the rice with river stones to collect more copper coins. While I didn’t have the ability to see into the future like the village shamans, every silent glance, unheard word, and stifled movement ruffled through me and warned me of people’s intentions.

My senses dulled when Mother and Father’s spirits rose to the heavens seven summers ago, perhaps to forget how my heart pounded me with accusations when I blamed the gods. Where were they when my parents needed them most, their cries drowned by the shrieking wind, their hope smashed by the capsized boat? The ocean swallowed them up and refused to spit them out, no matter how much I wailed and hurled rocks into the cold water. Why didn’t I tell them to stay with me?

I failed my parents. I refused to pay attention. It only seems right the Royal Guard would soon take me away, far from my home, to a life I didn’t want.

A slight breeze rustled through holes in the rice paper window. Shivering, I clutched my jacket closer to my shoulders as I paced the women’s quarters a final time, a stranger in heavy silk. My gown, a lustrous crimson, edged with gold embroidered peonies along the sleeves and hem, announced me with every movement. Swish. Swish. Never had I worn a gown so elegant, soft to the touch, a gift to the eye. Yet, misery draped over me.

“You look just like your mother.” Precious Aunt stood by the doorway, her face softening into a melancholy smile. “She would never want you to go.” She shook her head. “You must forget you heard this.”

My heart caught in my throat. “Please tell me. No one else is here.”

Precious Aunt drew me close to her chest and whispered in my ear. “Do not believe such foolishness.
There will always be eyes and ears following you around.” She straightened my jacket and fastened a gold filagreed ornament to my skirt. “Your mother was once a favored friend of the Royal Family. Did you know she was betrothed to the Daewon-gun?”

“How could it be?”

“Aiee,” she said softly, smoothing out my hair. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

“What happened?”

“We must not talk of such foolishness. It will only bring us bad luck.” She shook her head and held a finger to her mouth.

I ignored her. “How did she manage to leave?”

“Shh.” My aunt glanced towards the door. “There isn’t much time. Before your mother left the palace, the Queen gave her this good luck piece,” she said, brushing her fingers against the golden ornament at my waist. “Perhaps if she wore this…”

A shadow passed outside the window and a chill blew through the torn rice paper. Precious Aunt grabbed my hands. Even though she spoke softly, her eyes expressed a wildness, a fear I’ve never seen.

“You’ve mourned your parents long enough, Jin-Ae.” She reached out and touched my forehead. “It’s time to see the truth. You’re treading into new territory and your parents would want you to wake up.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Promise me,” she squeezed my hands. “Promise me you’ll wear this at all times. It’s said this was made from a dragon scale and will protect the owner from harm.”

I nodded, even though thousands of questions burned on my tongue. The shrill cry of the azure-winged magpie shrieked outside my window, and I started. Mother believed in the magpie’s warnings.

“Will this keep me home?” I grabbed her hand. “Please help me stay.”

“I cannot bear this.” Surrendering a sad smile, Precious Aunt turned and fled.

I sighed. Time grew late. I hastened to say my goodbyes. Thick icicles dripped from our slate roof, sprinkling me as I left the women’s quarters and stepped across the inner courtyard, jumping over melting ice patches, my skirts fluttering around my ankles. Two stone tigers, faces smoothed by the elements, guarded the entrance to the main house. For the last time, I reached out and rubbed their heads for luck, before suffering the ten steps to the library, where Esteemed Uncle waited every morning, expecting all the household to pay our respects. Today, I knew not what to say. What do I tell my uncle, who seemed too pleased to have one less mouth to feed, who sang his joy of my departure the night before? Deep bows to the ground and muttered insults would suffice for the man who traded me for my home and a life filled with copper coins.

This was my home, the stronghold of all my memories of Mother and Father. I did not know if I would ever be given permission to return. I was sixteen-years-old, yet I aged over a hundred years since the Daewon-gun, the Prince of the Great Court, selected me from his harvest of the most beautiful and wealthy girls of yangban, noble lineage to be his son’s, King Dae-Jung’s wife. Why the Daewon-gun chose me, the poorest of nobles with no family influence, I did not know. It did not make sense.

I hurried past the stink of the stove that heated the floors, the heady scent rising from the large clay pots of onions and garlic, and into the comforting fragrance of the warm kitchen. My cousins loved to linger over breakfast and gossip, while Precious Aunt chopped vegetables and buzzed around her children, urging them to eat and study hard. I paused. Rather than lively company, empty dishes lay strewn on the table, while a bowl of rice porridge waited for me, steam rising in the clay oven.

Discomfort quieted me and the unusual silence roared in my ears. Where were the baby’s cries, my cousins’ shouts, my aunt’s song, and even Uncle’s complaints? Unease trembled along my skin, curling deep within my belly.

“Precious Aunt?” I held my skirts and raced through the house, out past the stone tigers, through the courtyard, into the women’s quarters and back into the main house, until I stood outside to the stone wall, where the world waited below. I climbed the four foot wall, slipping on ice, my ceremonial gown a burden. Crisp air danced around my shoulders and I shivered, waving with the wind until resolve steadied me.

I stood, Queen of the Hill, hands shielding my eyes and surveyed the lands below. Left to right, top to bottom, my eyes waded through the winter-ravaged grasses, over snow, toward my parents’ shrine and along the nearby forest. Long strands of my hair loosened from a red ribbon, streamed around my face, while my skirts rippled and crackled around me, echoing in my ears. A sob tore at my throat and I wiped tears from my face, wishing for Precious Aunt, needing Mother.

An army of footsteps crunched across the snow and anxiety washed over me. I slipped down the wall, not caring about the small tear in my jacket, the scrape on my elbow, the bruise in my soul. Mother’s plum tree, laden with white blossoms, hid me as I peered out. Four soldiers on horseback held yellow banners emblazoned with the dragon, the symbol of the King. They led the royal procession and came to a standstill in the front courtyard. Two palanquins followed, splashes of red and yellow, each carried by eight men and guarded by soldiers.

“Halt!” The palanquin bearers grunted and lowered their burden to the ground, mere yards from where I watched. Soldiers gathered and stood at attention. Yellow curtains parted from the palanquin closest to me and a sharp-faced woman draped in furs stepped out. I drew back. The men bowed towards The Lady of Benevolence, the woman I secretly called The Spider Lady. She nodded her head and waved them away, choosing to stand facing my plum tree, her eyes piercing through the branches, quiet, waiting.

How could so many people remain motionless? My feet itched to run past The Spider Lady and the soldiers, teasing them to catch me, until I glanced at my dress. Laughter bubbled up in my throat and I swallowed down bitter bile. How dared I imagine hiding from her when my gown made me an easy mark? Blood red splotched against white snow. The Spider Lady’s eyes would soon nip and squeeze me; no doubt she would admonish me for ruining the ceremonial gown, the King’s gift to his future bride.