Chapter 9: A Royal Encounter

The day’s events replayed with striking clarity. Lee Doha crumpled the blanket he had clutched like a comfort doll since early evening, burying his face in the pillowcase. He had spent over half a day bickering with Kim Yoon-hye, then met with representatives from Energen and The Bridge, having barely picked at his food. It had been his homebody’s impulse to resolve everything in one go, yet he was utterly exhausted.

Despite retiring early, Lee Doha found himself unable to sleep as dawn approached.

Outside, the rumbling of a garbage truck echoed, while his stomach growled in protest.

He was tired but couldn’t sleep, hungry but had no appetite. ‘A complete mess, inside and out,’ he thought.

Lee Doha tossed and turned, utterly vexed.

‘Whoever coined the phrase ‘a noisy mind’ in ancient times must have been in a truly awful situation,’ he mused.

‘Because that was precisely the situation Lee Doha found himself in.’

[Hwairam]

Lee Doha’s eyes snapped open.

This was no delusion, no auditory hallucination; a voice truly echoed within his mind.

A bluish light, like sunlight shimmering on water, pulsed across the ceiling.

He glared at the small summoning circle spread upon his bed.

He stared for what felt like an age, yet unlike previous times, he wasn’t abruptly pulled in.

‘Good,’ he mused. ‘It seems no immediate demands will be placed upon me, and the timing is quite good.’

Lee Doha sighed softly, then closed his eyes.

“Hwairam.”

“…Stop calling me.”

The low, resonant voice seemed to pierce and seep into some part of his body, whether his head or his heart.

Lee Doha shivered briefly, then opened his eyes, grumbling almost deliberately.

The surroundings were brightly lit.

Through the open window, the peaceful chirping of birds could be heard, and the air was both cool and crisp.

It was morning.

His surroundings had also been bright the first time he saw him, too. But back then, he had been bleeding out, on the verge of death, making it difficult to truly register anything.

Lee Doha wished to forget every last fragment of that day’s memory.

The second time, the sun had been setting, and night quickly fell.

He was still pale, and Lee Doha had been thoroughly annoyed by being summoned in a company lobby.

Thus, it felt right to consider this his first true encounter.

“…Siohan.”

For the first time, Lee Doha addressed his contractor.

Reclining comfortably against cushions at the head of the bed, Siohan offered a gentle smile.

His eyes curved with evident delight. Feeling a strange flutter in his stomach, Lee Doha instinctively rubbed his chest.

“Yes, Hwairam.”

Siohan replied.

Lee Doha merely watched him for a moment, saying nothing. Siohan, too, remained silent.

A cool breeze drifted through what must have been an open window.

His dazzling golden hair, unlike any Lee Doha had ever seen, cascaded calmly to his chest.

A few strands occasionally swayed, a subtle reminder that he was, indeed, a living person.

‘What an inhuman face,’ he thought.

Though his complexion was still somewhat pale, his stillness made Lee Doha question whether this was truly a person at all.

Was it because the process of his eyelids briefly covering his eyes and returning was unusually slow? Or perhaps because his long eyelashes were the same color as his hair?

‘Oh, he moves,’ Lee Doha thought, as the slow blink of his eyes felt strangely novel.

It was understandable why Yoo Seo had gushed about him being ‘a manifestation of miracles’ and ‘a heavenly face.’

‘What else had people been chattering about?’ he wondered.

‘Please let me get a job at Etherje. This is welfare. The Iristyrium Empire actually conquered the continent with the Emperor’s face.’

His wondrous golden eyes, the same shade as his hair, and every curve shaping his face fit together so perfectly it was almost perverse.

‘Or perhaps I’m the one becoming perverse,’ he thought.

Lee Doha knew he was staring too intently, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

‘I want to poke his smooth cheek just once,’ he mused.

And so, Lee Doha did exactly that.

“… ”

Siohan showed no surprise at the sudden finger poking his cheek.

He simply chuckled with amusement, even tilting his head as if inviting further touch.

Lee Doha didn’t hesitate, reaching out to touch his hair as well.

The cool, smooth strands glided between his fingers, a surprisingly pleasant sensation.

Lee Doha narrowed his eyes. Just moments ago, he had been irritable from hunger and exhaustion, yet now, his mood inexplicably brightened.

‘What kind of sorcery is this?’

‘They say petting cats or dogs relieves stress; is this the same principle? Animal therapy?’

‘No way,’ he scoffed internally.

Lee Doha shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

“…It’s rather quiet today.”

Siohan, who had been silently observing Lee Doha, blinked.

That ordinary, unremarkable movement inexplicably drew his gaze.

Was it because the process of his eyelids briefly covering his eyes and returning was unusually slow? Or perhaps because his long eyelashes were the same color as his hair?

While Lee Doha was distracted by his contractor’s beauty, Siohan, having understood the meaning of ‘quiet,’ let out a short laugh.

“Yes, it is quiet. Just you and I. I’ve dismissed everyone from the vicinity, so there’s no one else here.”

“Is that allowed?”

Having been chided and nagged from various quarters, Lee Doha had reflected and done some studying.

Now he understood what Kim Yoon-hye had meant by ‘Yi Sun-sin, born of the Danjong bloodline in the Roman Empire.’

Though, if he were to nitpick, King Sejong or Gwanggaeto the Great might have been more apt comparisons than Yi Sun-sin.

In any case, with everyone around him constantly praising Siohan, he could now concretely grasp what he had only vaguely perceived as ‘amazing.’

It was rare for such influential people to be alone, just as a blade had been held to his throat merely for grabbing someone’s collar last time.

“It is. Because you are here.”

“You’re the one who told me not to use my power next time.”

Siohan blinked.

There it was again. Seeing him smile so slowly, it seemed his actions were generally just that unhurried.

Indeed, if one were born with everything, there would be no reason to rush anything.

However, for Lee Doha, a Korean to his very bones, that slow, unhurried ease was incredibly… tantalizing. He furrowed his brow again, trying to define the constant twitching sensation in his fingertips.

‘Tantalizing? That sounds perverse.’

“Are you worried about me?” Siohan asked.

Doha felt a slight sense of incongruity at the lightness of the words, then stood without answering.

Only then did he realize he had been sitting on Siohan’s bed the entire time.

It was a truly enormous bed; one could roll five times to the side and still be on it. ‘What kind of ridiculously huge bed is this?’ he grumbled, stepping down and looking around.

He had expected it to be grand and huge, befitting the Emperor of a magnificent empire, but it wasn’t.

It was less opulent than he had imagined.

There were no lavish chandeliers dangling, nor gold plating everywhere, like the rooms of emperors sometimes seen on TV.

Just a couple of paintings hung on the wall, the ceiling was clean, and everything else was much the same. Lee Doha’s gaze fell on a few scattered documents on a desk, and he perched on the sofa in front of it.

“You’re still working these days?”

“Some tasks cannot be postponed. Don’t sit there, come closer.”

“Why?” Lee Doha asked.

Siohan replied as if it were the most obvious question.

“Because I want to see you up close.”

“…No.”

It was a wide bed. Sitting in front of him, or even closer, would have been no big deal, as he had just been doing, but Lee Doha simply felt like being rebellious.

Instead of urging him further, Siohan sighed regretfully and leaned his head back against the headboard. It was a gesture that seemed to say, ‘I’m so tired and weary, and you’re being so mean.’

Lee Doha’s fingers twitched, but he eventually pulled a nearby chair to the bedside and plopped down.

Siohan’s eyes curved in a smile. His pale face made him look fragile.

“I gave you enough blood to almost kill me, so why are you still like this?” Lee Doha asked sullenly.

Siohan let out a soft chuckle.

“I’ve slept a lot and rested a lot. I’m enjoying a luxury I’ve never experienced in my life, so I’ll recover soon.”

“Does the Emperor not get sick leave?”

Lee Doha’s gaze drifted to Siohan’s wrist. He was sure he had properly reattached the arteries that time, yet a bandage was still wrapped around his slender wrist.

Considering he had bled out almost to the point of a complete blood transfusion, it was only natural for him to be confined to bed, resting. To call that ‘luxury’ gave Lee Doha a rough idea of his typical workload.

While an Emperor wasn’t necessarily meant to simply live lavishly and enjoy themselves, they certainly could.

“Yi Sun-sin, indeed…” Siohan listened with interest to the mumbled words.

Lee Doha shook his head, dismissing it as nothing. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair’s backrest.

“I don’t know how to do ‘that stuff.'”

“‘That stuff’?”

“Like paving roads or reorganizing ministries. I don’t know how to do any of that.”

Lee Doha gestured with his eyes toward the documents on Siohan’s desk. “Ah,” Siohan nodded, but that was all.

He continued to listen to Lee Doha with an amused expression.

Doha raised an eyebrow skeptically. Surely, Siohan wasn’t pretending not to understand what he was saying.

It was like looking at a growling, yapping puppy: ‘I know you’re upset, but you’re cute, so let’s see this through.’

“What else do you not know how to do?”

‘This guy?’ Lee Doha rubbed his chest again. This situation was getting a bit absurd.

“Why did you summon me?” Lee Doha asked.

Among the internet and reporters, that was the second most frequent question: ‘Why did the Emperor of Iristyrium, who practically rules Oz, summon Insodable?! Is Oz going to war? Is the Emperor trying to unify Oz?!’

However, Lee Doha himself knew just as little. In fact, if anyone was curious, he was the most curious.