The silence in the room stretched like a rubber band about to snap, and Jake could practically feel the tension radiating from every person present. King Min-jun—because Jake was now certain that's who this intimidatingly handsome man had to be—continued to stare at him with those dark, intelligent eyes that seemed to be cataloging every micro-expression on Jake's face for future analysis.
Jake's brain was running at approximately the speed of light, trying to calculate his options. He could:
A) Continue pretending he didn't understand Korean and hope they assumed Queen Soo-jin had developed some kind of temporary amnesia.
B) Attempt to fake his way through speaking Korean by making vaguely Korean-sounding noises and hoping for the best.
C) Throw himself on the floor and pretend to have a seizure, buying time while they called for medical help.
D) Tell the truth about being a time-displaced software engineer, which would definitely result in him being declared insane and probably executed for sorcery or demonic possession.
None of these options seemed particularly promising.
"Your Majesty," Jake tried again, this time attempting what he hoped was a respectful bow. Unfortunately, his new center of gravity betrayed him, the oversized sleeves of his robe got tangled around his arms, and instead of a graceful bow, he performed what could only be described as an interpretive dance about falling down.
The servants gasped. King Min-jun's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. And Jake, in his desperate attempt to regain his balance, grabbed the nearest stable object for support.
Which turned out to be the King's arm.
The moment Jake's fingers made contact with the silk of Min-jun's sleeve, several things happened simultaneously. First, an electric shock of awareness shot through Jake's new nervous system—not unpleasant, but definitely intense and completely unexpected. Second, Min-jun went completely still, his eyes widening slightly as if he'd felt something similar. Third, every servant in the room made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.
Apparently, grabbing the King without permission was not standard Queen behavior.
Jake immediately let go and stepped back, but the damage was done. Min-jun was staring at him now with an expression that had moved well beyond suspicion into uncharted territory. The older servant woman had gone pale and was muttering what sounded like prayers under her breath.
"Sorry!" Jake blurted out in English, then immediately winced because that definitely hadn't helped his cause. "I mean... um..." He tried to think of any Korean words he might know from Korean dramas he'd half-watched while coding. "Mian... mianhae?"
Min-jun's expression shifted again, this time to something that looked almost like recognition mixed with confusion. He said something in Korean that sounded like a question, but his tone had changed—less authoritative, more uncertain.
Jake nodded enthusiastically, hoping that "mianhae" meant what he thought it meant and that agreeing with whatever the King had just said wouldn't accidentally commit him to anything drastic like declaring war on China or abdicating the throne.
The King studied Jake's face for another long moment, then turned to address the older servant woman. His tone was measured and careful, but Jake could hear the underlying tension. The servant responded with what sounded like a detailed report, occasionally gesturing toward Jake, and with each exchange, Jake became more convinced that they were discussing exactly how crazy their Queen had become overnight.
Think, Jake, think, he told himself desperately. You're a problem solver. You debug code for a living. This is just a very complex system with unusual parameters. There has to be a logical approach to this situation.
The problem was that most of his debugging experience didn't involve ancient Korean monarchy or potential accusations of demonic possession.
While the King and the servant continued their conversation, Jake tried to observe and gather intelligence. The room was clearly designed for someone of very high status—the quality of everything from the furniture to the decorations suggested serious wealth and power. The servants treated both him and the King with the kind of deference that suggested they were definitely royalty. And the way Min-jun looked at Jake suggested a personal relationship of some intimacy, even if it was currently strained by Jake's inexplicable behavior.
So I'm the Queen, Jake thought. Queen Soo-jin, if that name in the outline was accurate. And this is King Min-jun, my husband, who is rightfully concerned that his wife has apparently lost her mind overnight.
The conversation between Min-jun and the servant concluded, and the King turned back to Jake with an expression that was clearly intended to be reassuring but came across as somewhat forced.
He spoke to Jake directly, his voice gentle but with an underlying firmness that suggested this was not entirely a request. Based on his tone and the way he gestured toward the bed, Jake guessed he was being told to lie down and rest.
Probably think I'm sick, Jake realized. That would explain the strange behavior, the confusion, the inability to respond normally. If I play along with being ill, it might buy me time to figure out what's actually going on.
Jake nodded and moved toward the bed, trying to look appropriately weak and confused. It wasn't difficult, given that he actually was confused and feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the situation. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and immediately two of the servants moved to help arrange pillows behind him and fuss with the covers.
Min-jun said something else, and one of the servants hurried out of the room, presumably to fetch something—medicine, perhaps, or a doctor. The King moved closer to the bed and sat down in a chair that had been positioned nearby, his posture suggesting he intended to stay and monitor the situation personally.
Great, Jake thought. Nothing like having your suspicious husband watching your every move while you try to figure out how to be his wife.
Min-jun spoke again, and this time his tone was softer, almost tender. He reached out as if to touch Jake's forehead, checking for fever, and Jake had to fight the urge to flinch away again. The King's hand was warm and gentle, and for a moment Jake felt an odd sense of safety that was completely at odds with his situation.
But then Min-jun said something that was clearly a question, and Jake realized he was expected to respond. The King was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to whatever he'd asked.
Jake tried to look thoughtful, as if he was considering the question carefully, then attempted what he hoped would pass for a response. "Mm," he said, nodding slightly. "Yes. Probably."
Min-jun's expression shifted to something that might have been amusement, though it was quickly replaced by concern. He asked another question, this one with a slightly different tone.
"Definitely," Jake agreed, hoping his confident nod would mask his complete lack of comprehension.
This time, Min-jun definitely looked amused, though he was clearly trying to hide it. He said something else, and Jake caught what sounded like a name—his own name, maybe? Queen Soo-jin?
"That's me," Jake said cheerfully, pointing to himself. "Soo-jin. Queen. Very queenly."
Min-jun stared at him for a moment, then said something that sounded distinctly like he was asking if Jake knew what he'd just agreed to. The tone was carefully neutral, but Jake could see something that looked suspiciously like suppressed laughter in the King's eyes.
Oh no, Jake thought. What did I just accidentally commit to?
Before he could panic too much about that, the servant returned with what appeared to be a traditional Korean medicine chest and an elderly man who was clearly some kind of doctor or healer. The man was dressed in more formal robes than the servants, and he carried himself with the kind of quiet authority that suggested extensive education and experience.
Min-jun stood and moved aside to allow the doctor to approach the bed. The doctor and the King had a brief, quiet conversation, with Min-jun presumably explaining the situation, and then the doctor turned his attention to Jake.
Medical examination, Jake realized with growing alarm. He's going to want to check my pulse, look at my tongue, ask about symptoms. This is going to be problematic.
The doctor spoke to Jake in what sounded like a standard bedside manner—gentle, professional, reassuring. He gestured to indicate that he wanted to check Jake's pulse, and Jake obediently held out his hand.
The doctor's fingers found Jake's wrist, and he frowned slightly, checking again. He said something to Min-jun, who responded with what sounded like a question. The doctor asked Jake something directly, clearly expecting a verbal response about how he was feeling.
Jake decided that looking confused and pointing vaguely at his head might be interpreted as having a headache. This turned out to be a mistake, because the doctor immediately became more concerned and began what appeared to be a neurological examination, checking Jake's pupils and asking rapid-fire questions that Jake couldn't begin to answer.
The more Jake failed to respond appropriately, the more concerned everyone became. The doctor conferred with Min-jun in hushed tones, the servants whispered among themselves, and Jake began to worry that his situation was about to become significantly more complicated.
That's when inspiration struck.
Jake had watched enough medical dramas to know that head injuries could cause temporary memory loss and personality changes. If he could convince them that Queen Soo-jin had suffered some kind of head trauma, it might explain his strange behavior and inability to respond normally.
He winced dramatically and touched his head, making pained expressions and gesturing as if something hurt. Then he looked around the room with exaggerated confusion, as if he wasn't sure where he was.
The effect was immediate. The doctor became more animated, examining Jake's scalp carefully and asking what sounded like urgent questions about when the injury might have occurred. Min-jun moved closer, his expression shifting from suspicion to genuine worry.
Jake continued his performance, occasionally touching his head and looking confused, trying to convey the impression of someone recovering from a serious head injury without overacting to the point of absurdity.
The doctor concluded his examination and had an extended conversation with Min-jun. Based on their body language and the King's increasingly concerned expression, Jake guessed that the doctor was recommending rest, quiet, and careful monitoring until the "injury" healed.
Min-jun nodded seriously and gave what sounded like orders to the servants. They immediately began rearranging the room, dimming the lights and moving furniture to make the space more conducive to recovery.
Perfect, Jake thought. This buys me time to figure out what's going on and maybe learn some basic Korean before I have to interact with people again.
But then Min-jun did something that Jake hadn't anticipated. Instead of leaving to let Jake rest, the King settled into the chair beside the bed with the clear intention of staying. He said something to Jake in a gentle tone, then picked up what appeared to be a book from a side table.
He's going to stay and watch over me, Jake realized with a mixture of panic and something that felt suspiciously like warmth. My husband is going to sit beside my bed and make sure I'm all right.
This was both touching and completely terrifying, because it meant Jake was going to have to maintain his act of being a head-injured Queen Soo-jin while under the direct observation of someone who knew the real Queen Soo-jin intimately.
Jake settled back against the pillows and tried to look appropriately weak and confused. Min-jun opened his book and began reading, but Jake could see that the King was watching him out of the corner of his eye, monitoring his condition.
For a while, they sat in relative silence. Min-jun read his book, occasionally glancing over to check on Jake, and Jake tried to process his situation while pretending to rest. The servants moved quietly around the room, adjusting things and generally trying to be helpful without being intrusive.
It was almost peaceful, in a surreal way. The late afternoon light filtering through the paper windows was soft and golden, the incense burners filled the air with gentle fragrance, and there was something oddly comforting about having someone sitting nearby, even if that someone was a medieval Korean king who suspected his wife had lost her mind.
Jake found himself studying Min-jun when the King was focused on his reading. He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features and intelligent eyes, but there was something more than just physical attractiveness. He carried himself with confidence but not arrogance, and the way he'd been gentle with Jake despite his obvious confusion suggested kindness and genuine concern.
If I have to be stuck in someone else's life, Jake thought, I could do worse than being married to someone who seems decent.
That's when Min-jun looked up from his book and caught Jake staring at him.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them looked away. Jake felt that same electric awareness he'd experienced when he'd grabbed Min-jun's arm—a connection that felt deeper than it should have, given that they were essentially strangers.
Min-jun said something softly, and his tone was so gentle and concerned that Jake felt his heart do something complicated in his chest. Even without understanding the words, Jake could hear the affection and worry in the King's voice.
"I..." Jake started, then stopped, because he had no idea how to respond. How do you tell someone who clearly cares about you that you're not actually the person they think you are?
Min-jun seemed to interpret Jake's hesitation as confusion from his supposed head injury, because he spoke again, even more gently, and reached out to touch Jake's hand.
The contact sent another shock of awareness through Jake's system, and he had to resist the urge to pull away. Min-jun's hand was warm and strong, and there was something about the careful way he touched Jake that suggested both intimacy and respect.
This is so messed up, Jake thought. I'm attracted to my fake husband who thinks I'm his real wife who I'm not, and I don't even know if what I'm feeling is my own emotions or some kind of residual connection from Queen Soo-jin's body.
Min-jun was studying Jake's face again, and Jake could see that the King was trying to read his expression, looking for signs of recognition or improvement. There was something almost vulnerable in Min-jun's eyes, as if he was afraid that his wife might not fully recover from whatever had happened to her.
He really cares about her, Jake realized. About Queen Soo-jin. This isn't just political concern or royal duty. He's genuinely worried about the woman he thinks I am.
The thought made Jake's chest tighten with an emotion he couldn't quite identify. Guilt, maybe, for deceiving someone who clearly loved his wife. Or sadness, because Jake was beginning to understand that he was trapped in a situation where any choice he made would hurt people he was starting to care about.
Min-jun said something else, and this time Jake caught what sounded like a name—"Soo-jin"—spoken with such tenderness that it made Jake's new heart skip a beat.
"I'm sorry," Jake said softly, even though he knew Min-jun couldn't understand him. "I'm sorry I'm not who you think I am."
Min-jun's expression shifted to confusion, clearly not understanding Jake's English, but something in Jake's tone must have conveyed sincerity because the King's grip on his hand tightened slightly.
They sat like that for a moment, connected by touch and mutual concern, despite the language barrier and the impossible circumstances. And Jake began to understand that his accidental journey to historical Korea was going to be far more complicated than just learning to wear traditional clothing and speak a new language.
He was going to have to figure out how to be Queen Soo-jin without losing himself in the process. He was going to have to navigate a royal marriage with a man he was increasingly attracted to, while hiding the fact that he wasn't actually the woman Min-jun had married.
And most challenging of all, he was going to have to do it all while wearing a hanbok and trying not to accidentally start any wars or overthrow any governments with his modern sensibilities.
Day one in medieval Korea, Jake thought as Min-jun continued to hold his hand and watch over him with gentle concern. This is definitely going to be interesting.
Outside, the sun was setting, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. The servants moved quietly in the background, preparing for evening routines that Jake didn't understand but would have to learn. And beside his bed, King Min-jun continued his vigil, reading his book and occasionally glancing over to make sure his supposedly injured wife was resting comfortably.
Jake closed his eyes and tried to process everything that had happened since he'd woken up in this impossible situation. Tomorrow, he would have to figure out how to act more like Queen Soo-jin. He would have to learn some basic Korean phrases, understand court protocol, and navigate the complex social dynamics of medieval royal life.
But for now, he was content to lie still and let himself be cared for by a kind man who thought he was someone else entirely.
This is my life now, Jake thought as sleep began to claim him. God help us all.