Page 12 of King Foretold (Realm of Four Kingdoms #2)

When I return to Jihun’s study that night, the office chairs form a loose oval around the empty space where the conference table used to be. Someone had cleaned up the pile of rubble from the floor but left the chairs in place. Minju sits perched on her usual seat, reading a fragile-looking scroll.

“If the words of power help with today’s lesson, we need to get them permanently tattooed on your back,” she says without looking up from her reading.

I spent my entire off day building a new forge with Hailey, Draco, and Jaeseok.

No natural material is strong enough to withstand dragon fire, so we had to use magic to fortify every stone.

Needless to say, we didn’t get far on the build.

And I couldn’t stay and eat dinner with the others because I didn’t want to be late for this lesson.

“ I’ll decide what I do with my body,” I say pointedly.

I take a deep breath. Minju means no harm—it’s just the way her brain works—but I’m dusty, hungry, and tired of being treated like a container for the Yeoiju. Plus, I’m on edge because I haven’t seen Jihun since this morning, when he left to follow a lead on Daeseong’s whereabouts.

What if he found the dark mudang? I clamp down on my rising panic. No, he would’ve told us right away if he’d found the madman. I don’t even know if Jihun is back from the Mortal Realm.

“I assumed you’d want to avoid getting repainted after every bath, because Hailey told me you’re ticklish.” Minju blinks owlishly at me. “However, if you enjoy being tickled with a wet brush for upwards of an hour, then I apologize for my assumption.”

“I don’t enjoy ...” I choke and sputter, flabbergasted enough to forget Daeseong for the moment. That is where her mind went? A tickle fetish? Not bodily autonomy?

“Perhaps you can consider other options of tickling?” the historian continues, tapping her finger on her chin. “How about applying a duster to the bottom of your feet? Or a feather under your chin? Give it some thought. We don’t have to decide anything until we know the runes work.”

“Work how?” I sigh with affectionate exasperation and sink into a chair across from the endearingly clueless historian. “Does shattering the conference table into tiny splinters count as them working ?”

“Hmm.” She purses her lips. “I liked that table. We should get another one.”

“Minju.” I rub a hand down my face. On days like this, a simple, straight answer would be nice. “What. Are. The runes. For? ”

“The words of power make your body stronger,” she explains, finally zeroing in on the issue.

“You might be afraid of summoning the Yeoiju because you believe you’re too fragile to contain its power.

I can think of no other explanation as to why you’ve failed every single attempt to manifest the light of the Yeoiju. ”

“ Failed is a strong word.” I don’t much like every single either. “I feel like I managed a little spark here and there ...”

“No.” Minju cocks her head like a confused puppy. “You failed every single—”

“Will you stop saying that?” I can do without any more reminders of my inadequacies. “For the record, I am not afraid. And I don’t think I’m fragile . I’m a gumiho. I’m already strong enough, even in my human form.”

“That may very well be true, but your subconscious is holding you back.” Minju pulls her lips to one side. “I believe it has to do with the unresolved trauma of your near-death experience at Heaven Lake.”

I flinch. “But I didn’t die.”

“You almost did,” Minju counters.

I didn’t die. I disappeared. I became light until there was no me.

“But I didn’t.” I give my head a sharp shake. “I came back.”

“Exactly.” She nods. “You almost died, and you had to fight to come back. Hence, the trauma. You’re afraid of experiencing that again. You might also be afraid of not being able to come back this time.”

“Do you want a nickel for your psychoanalysis, Lucy?” I pout and cross my arms like a petulant child.

But when Minju makes a face that tells me she does not get the Peanuts reference, I straighten in my chair with my mouth gaping.

This is tragic. Everyone needs Charlie Brown to help them through a rainy day.

“Never mind. You’re wrong, though. I’m not afraid of the Yeoiju.

But I am worried that I won’t be able to master its powers in time.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. ”

“You hold the Yeoiju,” Minju says with an amused smile. “You are the only one cut out for this .”

“Then why can’t I wield the damn thing?” I plow my fingers through my hair. “We’re running out of time.”

“Your powers have already started to evolve. You can see life forces with your bare eyes.” She reaches for my hand and grips it tight. “When you’re not held back by your fears, you are already drawing from the powers of the Yeoiju. You are ... limitless.”

“I ... I don’t know. I just ... I’m really relieved we’re close to forging the sword of light.

” A touch of pleading creeps into my voice.

“We might not even need the Yeoiju. I can just stab Daeseong with the sword—because I’m definitely cut out for stabbing things—then we can go on with our lives. ”

Minju releases my hand and draws a knife from the folds of her hanbok. I jump to my feet and scramble to put my chair between us. I forgot the historian is also cut out for stabbing things. Namely, me.

“Sunny, come here.” It doesn’t help that she beckons me with her sharp knife. “I want to show you something.”

She tugs my chair close to her and pats the seat. I inch forward and warily lower myself onto it. She takes my hand and places it on top of her thigh. “Open your hand.”

I look down to find my hand clenched into a tight fist on her lap. I slowly unfurl it, watching the historian with narrow-eyed suspicion.

“I’m going to stab you in the hand.” Minju grabs my wrist when I try to jerk away. I’m strong enough to break free, but I take a deep breath and relax. “I’m going to try , but I won’t succeed.”

“Why? Because you’re going to change your mind midswing and stab me in the heart instead? Like last time?” Sarcasm is my friend, especially when I’m nervous.

“Remember you have your hand on my thigh. If I stab through you, I’ll stab myself.” Minju ignores my jab. “We’re in this together. Do you trust me?”

“I guess.” I squirm in my seat, but I do. “I trust you.”

The blade moves so fast that all I see is a flash of metal before Minju slams it down on top of my hand. I don’t even cringe because I already know. The knife didn’t so much as nick my hand.

“Ouch,” I say out of principle. She did try to stick a knife in me. Again.

And it does kind of hurt. I peer down at the small bruise blossoming in the middle of my hand where the point of the knife hit my skin.

The magic armor the runes cast over me seems to work like a bulletproof vest. I feel the impact of the blow even if I don’t bleed from it. Even so, it’s extraordinary.

“Do you feel invincible?” Minju asks with a teasing smile.

“A little.” I go for a careless shrug.

Strength surges through me, and the small part of me that shrank away from the Yeoiju peeks out from its hiding place with curiosity and excitement.

I don’t necessarily feel invincible, but I feel a little braver and a lot hopeful.

I wonder if this is how Ethan felt when he came into his powers.

Then again, he’s always been brave, even without his magic.

He was far from invincible when he put himself between me and danger time and time again.

“Are you still scared of wielding the Yeoiju?” The historian sheaths her knife, getting back to business.

“For the last time, I am not scared.” And maybe I can do this. I can be brave like Ethan. For Ethan.

“Then take a seated position on the floor.” Minju claps twice in rapid succession, like an obnoxious PE teacher who says things like Drop and give me twenty . “And close your eyes.”

I know the drill. I settle on my ass and slow my breathing, inhaling and exhaling through my nose.

I quiet my mind and look inward. Well, it’s more like listening intently than looking.

When you close your eyes, your consciousness is a vast darkness.

You can’t really see anything. But if you listen hard enough, thoughts, images, and emotions take form and solidify, taming the wilderness of your mind.

And I listen for the light within me. At first, I only hear the rush of my blood. I concentrate harder, my brows drawing together, until I hear a gentle hum, a soft chime, resonating deep inside me. My frown clears away as I recognize the sound.

It’s my Yeoiju calling me. And this time, I don’t shy away from it. I float toward it, weightless and fearless, a sense of calm stealing over me.

There it is.

The light glows serenely, chasing away the darkness of my consciousness.

It isn’t turbulent, wild, and insatiable like I feared.

It’s powerful but utterly at peace. I blow out a careful, shaky breath.

In my mind, I cup the light in my hands, and my body mimics the movement.

Warmth gathers in my palms and travels up my arms.

Minju gasps, and I open my eyes. White light, as small as a candle flame, floats in the cradle of my hands. My lips tip up in a smile of wonder. It’s ... beautiful. The light pulses in rhythm with my pounding heart, and the flame grows with every heartbeat.

Something tugs at my chest. It’s a question. Yes, I answer. My gi flows into the white light. It flows and flows. A shiver spreads from the base of my spine until my entire body quakes with it. My fingers grow numb, like they’ve fallen asleep, then my toes.

“No,” Minju screams.