XXXIX

P A P E R  F A M I L Y

—aka, hot tip when meeting in laws: never leave your fiancé,

INT— A VAN.

JEJU-DO, SOUTH KOREA— MORNING.

SCENE I.

Honestly.

What is it with people and sprawling mansions in the middle of literal fucking nowhere?

Is the idea of being far away from poor people so great that you would swallow isolation? Do you hate the idea of the poor seeing even a glimpse of the paradise you built, the idea that their gaze would dare touch, much less their dirty, little fingers?

Also, it's just such a fucking cliché to be in an isolated mansion as the crescendo builds.

If I was rich enough to pick whatever choice of indulgent abode in the lavish selection of the silver spoons, I'd pick a nice penthouse in the city. Top billing, severe and damn near brutalist in its beauty. Isolated enough if I want to be alone but still enjoyably human, you know? Have social interactions, see a play, make brunch plans with friends. The separation isn't by miles but a few thirty or so floors.

Middle of nowhere with all your riches is just so banal.

I swear. For the next 5 minutes of pushing through an intersection that vanished off the view of the sea— and what a beautiful sea, glittering like tiny little diamonds against the morning sun, reminds me of Capri, of stealing a few diamonds in Greece — after that beautiful scenery, we were catapulted into a single road held hostage by nothing but trees. Too tall to see anything above the sunny blue and too closely standing together in a quick gaze to see through.

It was such a perfect morning if I was riding a convertible with friends.

Not in a van with a sombre crowd full of black suits and flat lined mouths.

Serious men and their silence ruin even the most beautiful of sceneries, honestly.

Even Archie's usual silk outfits had been exchanged by a thicker, rougher fabric in matte black, thickly embroidered with flowers and tigers.

It was beautiful to be sure, but I felt like we were about to attend a goddamn funeral.

Funeral, to say, was a good theory, when the road finally broke into a massive clearing, moving past strips of lands until it fell into a bone-chalk cliff face and the plunging meridian sea.

If that wasn't beautiful already, a manor sprawls in the middle of it in hard-hewn dark wood and pristine white walls. The manor wasn't tall; in fact it was stoutly two floors— maybe a third? But it looked more like an attic space than a full floor — but stretched into two other buildings cinched beside it, conjoined by a thicket of hallways. The other two were shorter, but no less impressive in its simplistic, classic style, a mimicry of old Korean manors owned by fledgling lords and their ancestral ilk. Gingko and Persian silk trees dance in between brushes of other flora I couldn't make heads or tails of, but had bright blue flowers.

Those were nothing against the massive tree just off kilter to the edge of the right building, its trunk twisted across the open courtyard. It reached past the roof and exploded in a spark of small, swaying leaves.

"It's beautiful," I muttered. Sure it looked simple, but it was built with surety and a specific style. The wood awnings were carved. Designs in corners and nooks meant to be detailed and looked upon by those who understood that money came in the devil's details.

"It's the ancestral home," Kristoff answered, voice faraway with a head too full of thoughts. When he grabbed my hand, I looked at him but he was looking outside, eyes narrowed. "They're all here."

By they, he meant the rows of cars with nondescript plates in double digits. I recognised every infamous brand, noting that majority were in generic black but the ones that had colour were custom.

"We've planned this," Archie said in a tone meant to be encouragement but there was a sharpness to it. A bite I don't recognise.

I didn't have enough time to mull it over, as the van opened and everyone got out. A formation was built, almost like a human shield. Everyone being so on guard immediately put me to mine.

An older man and woman were already waiting for us at the entrance, impeccable posture and a calm disposition. Unrattled by our entourage. When we got nearer, I noticed the old woman's eyes were milky. The man next to her bowed low and deep when we got near. He spoke in a deep, calm voice. Two words of recognition. There was something eerie about the woman's smile deepening, bowing low herself, and staring blankly ahead when she righted.

"You are early, ju-in," the man continued, his eyes moving to me. The fact that he said it in English made it nothing short as a courtesy scheme.

"It seems like I'm late, actually," Kristoff muttered, turning a palm in my direction until I took his hand. Immediately, the older man's eyes found the glinting ring on my finger and his face twitched. An imperceptible movement. My bland smile sharpened.

"This is my future wife, Antonina." He turned to the woman, and for some reason, I thought his voice would soften if her demeanour toward him was any indication of her fondness, but I was more than surprised when his voice hardened. Cold almost, as he spoke to her in their native language.

But she didn't flinch, only responding in a calm, almost sweet voice. "Ulineun dangsin-ui eomeoniga wonhaneundaelo geunyeoleul daehal geos-ibnida."

It was Archie on the corner of my eye who I saw go rigged. The older man shot her a look that she didn't see of course, but made no move to say anything.

A bolt of pain shot through my hand and I hissed, turning to Kristoff as he had squeezed it too hard, the ring on his thumb digging between thin bones and skin. But he wasn't glaring at me. He was glaring at her. Cold fear licked my spine as pure rage seemed to have lit him from the inside out.

"Kristoff," Archie warned as the former took a menacing step forward. Because he still hadn't let me go— and still avidly crushing my hand — I made a move to tug him back.

Quietly, as if every word said was in warning, he said, "Dangsin-i dangsin-ui salm-eul sojunghage saeng-gaghandamyeon, dangsin-eun geuleohge haji anh-eul geos-ibnida."

The woman calmly looked up at him to the best of her ability, and it was that absent smile on her face. As if she knew better than him. It was a smile that mothers often took to when their children asked a childish question.

Damn sis, okay, I thought. I wish I had your balls. And maybe a translation app.

"¬Ju-in," the older man spoke up. "Your grandfather wishes to speak to you before he addresses the rest of the family."

Kristoff continued to stare down the old lady. She seemed to be at that infinite age between an 80 year old grandma or a hundred plus and still somehow able to walk and talk and blindly look at a menacing man and smile at him as if he every word he said was adorable.

"Kristoff," Archie repeated, his voice pitching in strained. It wasn't Korean. It was Archie's mother tongue, Mandarin. "Qǐng. Zhīhòu."

Or what I thought was his mother tongue, considering they're apparently cousins. But the way neither older folk bowed to Archie said much that they didn't recognise him to be one.

I was starting to wonder if this was the deep, dark secret. Some Jerry Springer shit, And you are the grandfather! Though I doubted it, my mind made jokes to ease the tension.

I pressed on the corner of Kristoff's thumb until he hissed. I took his hand on my own and squeezed. "Kristoff."

He huffed, eyes fluttering as he took a step back. He fixed his suit and turned his grave eyes back to the older man. "Lead us."

The older man raised an eyebrow just as the woman shook her head gently. "Only you. Agassi can wait in the gardens."

Kristoff's jaw locked but he turned to Archie. "Watch her?"

"Whoa, wait," I whispered rapidly against his cheek. "Whatever happened to never leaving my sight, darling?"

"Nothing will happen yet," he said gently, quietly. "You are still safe. Archie will keep guard. I will be back, I promise."

My laughter sounded shrill even to my own ears. "Famous last words." I grabbed the lapel of his suit. "You better, you understand me? You better."

"I do not lie." He smiled. I shivered. "What?"

"Since when did you start smiling?"

He snorted. But he softened to a degree, more humane, back to the Kristoff I recognise. The Kristoff I moulded through sheer grit and audacity.

He turned back to the older man in a look of dismissal. That was more like him. Everyone else was under foot to the wealth and power he possessed. It's a look that eased me. "I don't want her near anyone else."

The older man gave a nod, touching the older woman by the elbow and both of them turned, going back inside the house.

"I'll be back," Kristoff murmured, giving a kiss to my cheek before he untangled himself from me.

As he disappeared inside, I turned to Archie. "So where is this expansive garden if it wasn't already all this front yard?"

He gave his own snort. Amusingly, I tried to match it against Kristoff. "Come on. Old money enjoy expanse. I thought you knew better."

I almost stumbled. "Please don't make jokes. I don't think I can take it right now."

He scoffed.

The expansive grass, to say, was quite prettier. Prettier even, the bonsai trees that were pricked to various designs and specific styles— to which Archie gave me a long-standing lecture that I had to tune out for the sake of my sanity — even the meaningful placements and obviously paid landscapers to design half of the flora... There was only so much talk about gardens and ponds and statues that mean something but not to a crowd of two both too tensed by the eerily empty house that I know was full of people.

I can feel them. I think I counted the times I managed to find a staff, but they were quickly running away or bowing low.

How the hell was someone going to find a 'blue maid' like this?

And they all seemed to be wearing a uniform of white hanbok with a red belt. I've yet to see bloody blue except from the bloody sky.

Before I could proclaim a stomach ache— a not so familiar person came walking around the gazebo that Archie and I retired in, hands in his pockets, and an ease that was only, minutely betrayed by his tensed shoulders.

Park Tae Yang.

Archie stood up, bowing as Tae Yang mimicked the bow in a more blase way.

I didn't stand up, offering a pliant smile instead. "Sorry, I know it's polite to bow, but I think I twisted my ankle as we were walking."

I could feel Archie's glower, no doubt taking it as a stab at his twenty minute drone about koi fishes, but I kept my smile on Tae Yang as he returned it with one of his own.

"I wouldn't ask that of you. It's nice to meet you again, Miss La Verne."

"You too, Future Cousin."

His mouth twitched before turning to Kristoff. "I came because it seems as if Kristoff is trying to find you. He's still inside with grandfather, in his office."

"What? But I—" He shot me a look and I shot him an alarmed one in retort.

You can't fucking leave me here with him are you kidding me!?

"I'll keep my future cousin entertained."

I restrained the scoff between gritted teeth. "I'm sure Archie can—"

"He can't," Tae Yang said, giving Archie a meaningful look. "It was grandfather who asked for you."

That settled it. I cursed the heavens and koi fishes.

He bent down to me. "You'll be fine with him, he's harmless," the same time I was whispering back, "I am going to fuck you up oh my god you're actually leaving me—" Before he stood up, gave Tae Yang a nod, and left.

Park Tae Yang chose that moment to sit right beside me on the four-seat, nicely spaced table.

Oh, I hate him.

He really was handsome. He didn't have Kristoff's strong jaw or sharp nose as he had a softer frame to him. He was also taller but lankier than his cousin. He sort of resembled Archie more in that regard, and I was actually quite surprised they also had the same eye shape and colour. That dark, muddy brown whilst Kristoff had a deep, almost onyx.

I plastered on the fakest smile I could muster while showing him I was irritated with him. There was no fear present. Or that I was clenching my fists against the skirt I was wearing. I let my grip go and smoothed out my skirt. "Why not sit in front of me, cousin? This is hardly a good conversation with my neck cricked to the left."

His face that was genial morphed into worry.

"Do you need help?" he asked lowly, eyes looking around as if someone could be hiding in a bush. "You need to get out."

I straightened. "Look, bucko. Your cousin already proposed, I'm not going to high tail now even if you slap me with a couple of Benjamins—"

"I know what you are to Kristoff," he cut off impatiently. "He shouldn't have brought you here. He already proposed and your child will not be a bastard— a pure family line, done. Grandfather is already going to give him the company. It's all been set. I don't understand why you have to be here for this."

I reared back. "So... what? Let me get this straight, do you know why we're here?"

He opened his mouth, hesitated, before closing it again. Anxiously, he drove hand through his hair. "He shouldn't have brought you," he repeated. "He—"

"Tae Yang-ah."

If it wasn't so terrifying to hear a disembodied voice in the middle of a tensed conversation going nowhere— I would've laughed. But both of us jolted from our seats to turn to a soft spoken voice of a woman who, for a second, I was praying was not a ghost.

Surely she wasn't because we could both see her, but she dressed the part close enough to what anyone assumed would be a dearly departed. Long dark hair brushed behind her back, and elongated features as if she wasn't eating well. Skin sunk to her bones, almost appearing stretched or was that just my imagination?

Beneath it, you could see that she might have been pretty. Dark eyes that gazed but saw nothing; full, cracked lips and high cheekbones.

The kicker, of course, was that she wore a white, stained nightgown.

Because of fucking course she did.

It seemed to be too long on her because it trailed down the grass and the hem on her sleeves hung low. Behind her followed the old woman from the entrance. A picture of serenity just like the woman in front of us. Though the old woman appeared to be terrifyingly delighted, the ghostly figure looked terribly unaware of her surroundings.

Or that she was coming closer toward us and I was about three seconds away from pulling this entire thing.

Tae Yang scrambled to stand. "Imo. Na—"

"Shhh," she shushed him, raising one bony finger. Her nails were long but clean. There were bandages on her wrist. I stood up and her eyes shot to me. I fought a shiver.

Park Nana. Kristoff's mother.

She tilted her head, almost in a bird-like fashion.

I gave an incline, not fully a bow. "Good afternoon. My name is Anto—" I cleared my dry throat. It was as if moisture was being sucked out of my body in the form of sweat and terror. "— Antonina La Verne. Kristoff's fiancé."

She smiled as if she liked what she heard. It was that same empty smile as the woman behind her. Pretty and hollow made by paper people.

She turned back toward the house, motioning with one hand. "Come. We will have tea."

The look I gave the guy who just said I should vis-à-vis 'get out' could be said much of a pig about to go for slaughter.

"Imo—"

"Keep out of this, boy," she hissed, swivelling her head back into a snarl so vicious it was more alike beast than man. The old woman who was following her at a good distance also paused, turning with a frown as if she hated her mistress displeased.

Kristoff's mother turned back to me, face melting into her earlier calm. An untouched water. Sill and all. She blinked owlishly at me. "Come. I wish to speak to the woman carrying my grandchild."

She started back again to the house, not giving a shit if I was following or not, I snorted. Though there was a stark difference between mother and daughter, their audacity were twin souls to one another.

And the underlying unhinged gene was just too prominent to ignore.

"Go," Tae Yang said.

"You just said—"

"No one defies Nana. They'll kill you if you do. Go. Try not to die, cousin."

He said it like a joke but his face was grim.

Great. A mother in law that wants to kill me.

Not new by standards, but still. I think this one tops it.

Translations.

We will treat her as your mother would like. 우리는 당신의 어머니가 원하는대로 그녀를 대할 것입니다. Ulineun dangsin-ui eomeoniga wonhaneundaelo geunyeoleul daehal geos-ibnida.

If you value your life, you will do no such thing. 당신이 당신의 삶을 소중하게 생각한다면, 당신은 그렇게 하지 않을 것입니다. Dangsin-i dangsin-ui salm-eul sojunghage saeng-gaghandamyeon, dangsin-eun geuleohge haji anh-eul geos-ibnida. 

Please. Later. 请。之后。Qǐng. Zhīhòu.

Aunt. I— 이모. 나는— Imo. Na—

Edited.