Chapter 17: A Gift of Self, A Silent Departure

“It is difficult to deny that being born on this day so long ago was also for the sake of meeting you….”

“Majesty….”

“Un-ah. Stay by my side like this forever. We have already lived too long apart, unknown to each other. So from now on, do not move a single step away from me.”

It was the Emperor’s desperate wish that Hwaun’s heart would never change. He wanted Seong Ihan, the man, to be Hwaun’s reason and purpose—not just the Emperor. It was a plea from a soul terrified that Hwaun’s love might one day wander. At this moment, even Hwaun likely could not fathom the sheer depth of Ihan’s aching vulnerability.

Hwaun did not answer with words. He did not dare to; no simple sentence could express the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him. Instead, Hwaun moved his hands to cup Ihan’s cheeks, gently lifting his head until their eyes met.

When was it that the reflection in Ihan’s dark pupils began to look more like ‘Haun’ himself than the original ‘Yeon Hwaun’? Cherishing this miraculous moment, Hwaun pulled Ihan closer and was the first to press his lips softly against the Emperor’s.

He felt Ihan catch his breath. It was unbearably lovely—that the Emperor, a man who was clumsy at nothing, could become so tense at a mere touch of the lips. Hwaun did not pull away. He slowly parted his lips and carefully took the Emperor’s lip into his mouth.

Ihan’s hands flew to Hwaun’s wrists, but he didn’t pull him away or apply pressure. If anything, he seemed to be clinging to the touch, terrified Hwaun might withdraw. Hwaun decided to be a bit bolder. It was the happiest of days, so surely this much greed was allowed.

Recalling the tenderness Ihan always showed him, Hwaun sucked on his lower lip several times before tentatively sliding his tongue into the narrow opening. It was an unpolished, clumsy move, but Ihan, lacking any will to resist, opened his mouth helplessly to welcome Hwaun’s small, warm tongue inside.

Even with his eyes closed, the world felt as if it were spinning. Ihan thought he might become the first Emperor in history to die of a burst heart caused by his consort’s kiss. His mind went hazy, as if drugged by a sweet poison.

“Mmm….”

When the tip of Hwaun’s tongue awkwardly brushed against Ihan’s own, Ihan let out a low, muffled groan. Never in his life had he felt such a potent spark. It was a small, almost insignificant contact, yet to Ihan, it was more earth-shattering than the collapse of his empire. Emboldened by Ihan’s reaction, Hwaun began to explore every corner of his mouth, as if tracing a memory.

When Hwaun’s tongue swept across the roof of his mouth, Ihan tensed up and groaned again, which only served to spur Hwaun into rubbing more firmly. It was an instinctive response. Hwaun felt the heat radiating from Ihan’s body as he reacted to his movements. This wasn’t enough. Hwaun wanted to feel and taste Ihan even more deeply.

Finally, Hwaun tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and Ihan—unable to hold back a second longer—pulled Hwaun’s waist flush against him, pinning him down onto the bed. Hwaun’s hastily wrapped robe fell open, revealing his white skin marked with the reddish traces of the previous night.

Ihan let out a low, animalistic growl as he ravenously tasted Hwaun, his tongue aggressively exploring every inch of the mouth that opened wide to receive him. Both men were breathless in an instant.

“If you truly do not intend to turn me into a tyrant who neglects his duties….”

“Hhh… Majesty….”

“Then why do you seduce your Emperor so wickedly from the break of dawn?”

Normally, Hwaun would have protested such a label, but he remained silent. He simply wrapped his arms around Ihan’s neck and spread his legs, exhaling a hot breath that urged for more. Ihan pressed his body threateningly against Hwaun, as if he would drive himself inside that very second. He gripped Hwaun’s slender chest and bit down on his earlobe before speaking.

“This is of your own making, so do not resent me for being cold or ruthless if I overwhelm you.”

Hwaun trembled at the man’s desire-laden voice. The thought that time for the morning audience was running short had long since been pushed out of his mind. Even if this was not the “proper” behavior for a consort, it was the Emperor’s birthday. Surely, once a year, he could be this greedy.

Thinking of all the things the Emperor had granted him in the name of love, Hwaun closed his eyes and let himself go.

Though darkness had begun to settle over the world, the Imperial Palace shone as bright as midday with countless lanterns. The darkness of night could not hope to encroach upon the festival celebrating the birth of the Son of Heaven.

Though Ihan had insisted on scaling back the grandeur to avoid excessive luxury, the celebration still possessed an unrivaled dignity. In the Great Banquet Hall—a room used only for the Emperor’s birthday—performances that dazzled the eyes and ears had been ongoing since early evening.

“I offer my congratulations on Your Imperial Majesty’s birthday.”

Representing the concubines, Suk-bi rose from her seat and raised her glass in a toast. Meeting her eyes with a gentle smile, the Emperor raised his own glass, replied “Thank you,” and drank. The Empress and the other concubines followed suit, raising their glasses to celebrate the auspicious day.

Beautiful dancers in vibrant, flowing skirts continued their graceful movements. These dancers, too, were subjects living under his rule; their hearts toward the Emperor who had brought peace were anything but light. Every flick of a finger and every step was imbued with a prayer for the Emperor’s longevity, making the performance more brilliant than ever.

But Ihan couldn’t focus on any of it. While he couldn’t deny the beauty of the sights and sounds, they simply didn’t satisfy him. In terms of pleasant sounds, nothing compared to Hwaun’s voice; in terms of beauty, nothing could match one of Hwaun’s faint smiles.

His head knew he should appreciate the sincerity of the efforts made for him, but his heart was elsewhere. Like a restless boy, his gaze kept stealing glances in one specific direction.

Hwaun wore a sapphire-blue robe that made his fair skin look even more radiant. Even his hair, which he usually kept modest compared to others, was adorned with a magnificent hairpin today—clearly a special effort for the birthday. Just thinking about that made Ihan want to abandon his throne and spirit Hwaun away to somewhere they could be alone.

He made a conscious effort to converse with the Empress and express his gratitude to Suk-bi and Jeong-bin, but the moment his concentration wavered, his eyes sought out Hwaun. No matter how many times he told himself an Emperor shouldn’t act this way, it was no use.

Of course, Ihan had no idea that the Empress, Suk-bi, and Jeong-bin were all secretly laughing, having perfectly read his state of mind.

“Hmm…?”

After some time had passed, Ihan sat up straight, his neck craned in surprise. A bewildered sound escaped him. The banquet wasn’t over, yet Hwaun had suddenly risen and left.

No one was permitted to leave a seat prepared for the Emperor at their own whim. Especially not Yeon Hwaun. He was a man of such rigid etiquette that his formality sometimes drove Ihan to frustration. For such a man to leave in the middle of the birthday banquet without a word? It was incomprehensible.

Ihan’s face went pale. A thought suddenly struck him—what if Hwaun was unwell? He had tormented him all night and then held him roughly again in the morning before his desire could be quelled. When the Emperor had left Jeongan Palace, Hwaun had been sleeping in a state closer to a faint. It was impossible for him to be in good physical condition.

Had he left quietly because he was too sick to remain seated, fearing he might ruin the festive mood? Just as Ihan, convinced by this theory, began to fidget in his seat, forgetting all his imperial dignity, Empress Jaran—who had been watching him with a playful look—spoke quietly.