Chapter 46: Side Story18: The Night Market and the Return to the Palace

At one time, Hwaun felt a sense of guilt whenever he spoke those words. Because his original soul was lowly. Because he was a being who should not dare to love the Emperor. He feared that voicing his feelings would invite the wrath of heaven and strip away this happiness.

However, the time spent with Ihan had changed Hwaun’s heart. It wasn’t just the accumulation of time, but the absolute, vast affection Ihan had shown—the kind of love he was showing right now—that had fortified Hwaun’s spirit.

“Nothing can take this heart away from me. I, Your Majesty… with everything I am, I love you and love you again.”

Ihan realized in that moment that when a person has something they desperately want to say, they often find themselves unable to speak at all. An overwhelming surge of emotion swirled within him, making it difficult to control himself.

He pulled Hwaun into a tight embrace. Their hearts hammered against each other. Feeling as though he might ungracefully burst into tears if he stayed like this, Ihan eventually responded to the confession by lightly biting Hwaun’s lip and whispering:

“If you do not truly wish to be held by me right here in this carriage… you should not open your mouth any further.”

Hwaun burst into a laugh, finding Ihan’s reaction endearing. Ihan wasn’t joking, but Hwaun’s laughter was so beautiful that the Emperor decided to let him mistake the serious warning for a jest. Outside, the sun was slowly dipping behind the mountains.

“I was wrong. Please, stop being angry.”

In a rare display of playfulness, Hwaun grabbed Ihan’s hand—which had been stubbornly refusing to hold his—and gave it a little shake. Ihan, who had been maintaining a grumpy face, felt his lips twitch.

After arriving at their temporary lodgings, Hwaun had fallen into a deep, death-like sleep in Ihan’s arms, only waking after the sun had set. While he felt it was a waste to spend their precious time outside sleeping, his fragile body would not have endured any more without that rest.

Before they left the palace, Eunuch Oh had pleaded with both of them: stay safe, and return before it gets completely dark. The Emperor had naturally ignored the advice, and Hwaun had been swayed by Ihan’s temptation to see the night market before they left.

Since they didn’t know when they could come out again, the two held hands and wandered through the night market, which was twice as boisterous as the day market.

The problem arose when they decided to try some skewers from a street stall.

Hwaun hadn’t liked this plan from the start. He was worried about the Emperor’s safety; he feared someone might target him through the food, or simply that it wasn’t right for an Emperor to eat common street food.

The Emperor had already tasted the sweets Hwaun used to like during the day, which Hwaun felt was enough. But Ihan, thrilled to be acting like an ordinary couple with Hwaun, excitedly bought a skewer.

Hwaun did what he felt he had to do. Just as he had done with the sweets, he quietly took a bite of the skewer first to test it for poison.

It was only then that Ihan realized what was happening. When it happened with the sweets, he had thought Hwaun was just excited to taste a nostalgic snack. But seeing Hwaun taste the skewer first, he felt like he’d been struck over the head.

Hwaun was not the kind of person to ever touch the Emperor’s food first, even if he were starving. Ihan realized Hwaun was acting as his food taster—his gimi.

When Ihan confirmed this intention, he became sullen and upset, refusing to even look at Hwaun properly. It wasn’t that Hwaun’s action was wrong, but the thought of it was unbearable for Ihan. What if there had been something wrong with the food? How could he endure the agony of losing his lover because of his own childish insistence on eating street food?

Ihan was truly angry at himself—for being so caught up in the excitement like a child that he failed to see the danger he was putting Hwaun in.

Eventually, Ihan pulled Hwaun’s hand back toward him.

“I know I am also at fault. But… you should not be so cruel to me either.”

“…I did not think deeply enough, Your Majesty.”

“When you consider my safety, do not just think of my physical well-being, but the well-being of my heart. If you are gone… I will be a living ghost.”

Ihan brought Hwaun’s hand to his lips and kissed it pathetically. Hwaun bit his lip, his heart sinking at the raw emotion. He realized his mistake; if he had fallen, Ihan would have had to live with the crushing guilt forever.

Hwaun walked closer to the Emperor and whispered, “I will… devote my whole heart to protecting Your Majesty’s heart.”

Ihan nodded silently. The noise of the market felt distant now. Soon, an escort who had been following from a distance approached secretly and whispered, “Your Majesty.” It was time to return.

Ihan looked at Hwaun with an apologetic expression, feeling that their short time together wasn’t enough. Hwaun, however, looked perfectly happy.

“Your Majesty may not believe me, but… I am not sad at all to be going back.”

“Una….”

“This was a time I could never have enjoyed again if you hadn’t given it to me. It wasn’t a short time; it was more than I deserved.”

He wasn’t saying it just to comfort him. It had been a perfect day. Hwaun continued, “Returning to the palace is also a good thing for me. Because that is where my one and only lover, the Emperor, resides.”

Ihan’s clear, bright laughter rang out in the night street. He felt amused that he was the one being comforted, yet his heart raced at Hwaun’s delicate sincerity.

They walked toward a quiet area where their carriage was waiting.

“Yes,” Ihan replied. “And that is where my one and only lover and partner, the Noble Consort, resides as well.”

“…Yes, that is true.”

Setting aside all difficult and complicated stories, Yeon Hwaun—who had decided to remain solely as the Emperor’s person—would stay by his side for a very long time.

Recalling this small but overwhelming certainty, the Emperor finally said:

“We are going back.”

It was a romantic day that neither of them would ever forget.