Chapter 44: Beyond the Porcelain Mask

After a long bout of heavy weeping, Haeryeong lost all strength and slumped against the Emperor’s shoulder.

At the sound of him sniffling through a stuffed nose, the Emperor rested his chin against Haeryeong’s forehead and whispered in a tender voice.

“If you have wept your fill, then take a deep sleep.”

The Emperor seemed determined to put Haeryeong to sleep, as he began to slowly pat his back.

Haeryeong caught a glimpse of the raindrops falling from the eaves before closing his eyes.

A faint headache throbbed in time with the rhythm of the man’s hand.

Truly, he was sick of it all.

The Emperor’s whims, his own inability to push the man away with all his might, his own plight of having to remain tight-lipped even while intoxicated, and even this gods-damned headache—he was sick of every bit of it.

But what could he do?

The other was the Emperor of Yeoran who commanded the continent, and he was merely a powerless Empress who meant nothing to him.

Haeryeong let out a quiet sigh of resignation and buried his head deep against the Emperor’s shoulder.

He simply hoped that when he opened his eyes, the Emperor would be bored of this game.

That he would finish playing and let him go.

That he would treat him as a non-entity again, just like before.

As if cradling his wounded heart every time the man poked and prodded at it, Haeryeong huddled his shoulders within the Emperor’s embrace.

****

Gangcheon strolled leisurely beneath the eaves until Haeryeong fell asleep.

As he slowly rocked and soothed him, the sniffling stopped after a moment, and the sound of steady breathing came from Haeryeong, whose reddened eyes were now closed.

Only then did Gangcheon step back into the bedchamber, where he set the man down on the bed and allowed the eunuchs to assist him in removing his dragon robe.

Seeing the court ladies cautiously approach the bed, Gangcheon furrowed his brow.

“Leave him be.”

“Do not wake a man who is deep in sleep by touching him unnecessarily.”

“Please allow us to at least remove his crown, Your Majesty. We fear he will be uncomfortable because of the hairpins…”

“Did I not tell you to leave him be?”

Gangcheon glanced at Head Court Lady Yang and gave a crooked smile.

“If you care for your master that much, go to the Bureau of Medicine and bring some yugo.”

“Since he has performed tasks he is unaccustomed to, his lower half is likely not in good condition.”

The court ladies’ energy wavered, visibly shaken by Gangcheon’s words.

Though they were trying to maintain their composure, they seemed quite shocked.

“You said your name was Head Court Lady Yang, correct?”

Gangcheon still clearly remembered the face of the woman who had come to his private sanctum and acted so insolently.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am called Yang Iryeon.”

“You go yourself.”

“I obey your Imperial command.”

After Iryeon withdrew, Gangcheon dismissed the eunuchs who had finished undressing him and the remaining court ladies.

On the bed, Haeryeong lay huddled and asleep like a mountain snail.

Gangcheon looked down at him silently.

‘How strange.’

Despite the piteous way he was curled up, the sight did not seem particularly displeasing.

Gangcheon sat on the edge of the bed and slowly pulled out the hairpins stuck in Haeryeong’s hair.

Next, he removed the crown from the topknot.

Seeing the hair, now freed from the pins, scatter across the bed, he thought the man looked quite lovely.

“Perhaps I should have done this for you on our first night.”

He had heard that Haeryeong, on the first night of their marriage at seventeen, had sat perfectly still like a doll the entire time.

It was said that after staying up all night and finally removing his ceremonial robes, he had shown not a single sign of agitation.

Even afterward, whenever they met intermittently, his expression was always identically composed, leading Gangcheon to believe the Empress was an utterly uninteresting individual.

Since he had likely been sent away from his homeland as if being sold, there was no reason for him to possess any affection.

That was why he acted so stiffly even upon seeing his husband.

At that time, there were so many vacancies among the Imperial family and officials that Gangcheon was consumed by state affairs.

He didn’t want to spend more energy on the man, so he simply left him alone.

‘I’ll just cut him down if he ever tries to climb over me.’ That was the extent of his sentiment.

Since there were no elders in the Imperial Palace, there were not many days where they faced each other.

They ate their meals separately, and they only met occasionally during banquets or official events.

Even when they crossed paths in official settings, the Empress was always the same.

With a smile of gentle benevolence etched onto his face like a mask.

The Empress had remained silent the entire time, just like the boring impression he gave.

Like a piece of porcelain placed in a room, his presence or absence made no difference.

He had found that trait quite distasteful.

The man didn’t even seem human.

‘What kind of person is he?’

His concern about a possible collusion between the Ministry of Rites and Yeonseo didn’t even last three months.

The Empress simply sat in the Empress’s Palace all day, and the officials who occasionally visited were truly of no consequence.

The conversations they shared were always nothing but ridiculous small talk.

He was reported that the Empress merely seemed to enjoy having a conversation partner.

At first, he received reports on every move the Empress made, but eventually grew bored with the lack of change and ordered the reports reduced; there were many times when no report came for days.

Since they rarely saw each other’s faces, there was no way for affection—which was non-existent to begin with—to grow.

Furthermore, Gangcheon was still occasionally calling Sirak to the palace or making secret outings to the brothels back then, so he had no intention of seeking out the Empress to spend the night.

However, after suffering through that fever, the person who had lived like a doll for over three years was beginning to change little by little.

From then on, he caught glimpses of something flickering in the Empress’s eyes, though Gangcheon did not know what that emotion was.

Today, he felt he finally understood.

‘Was that emotion sorrow?’

Had he been throwing a tantrum because he was tired of waiting for a husband who never looked back?

When he was doing something as nonsensical as claiming he had lost his memory, it was absurd, but if he thought of it as a tantrum, it seemed almost cute.

Gangcheon let out an involuntary chuckle as he gently tidied the hair scattered across the bed.

‘What am I to do? I’ve gone and laid a hand on him without knowing he would become this endearing.’

****

Gangcheon had spent his life roaming the battlefields since shortly after his thirteenth birthday.

At that time, the war against the northern barbarians was still ongoing, so he had no leisure to return to the Imperial Palace or the capital.

The previous Emperor didn’t even bother to wonder about the prince born to a concubine who had died long ago.

The Emperor showed no interest even in the news of victories sent by the sixteenth prince, whose chances of ascending the throne were practically non-existent.

Gangcheon didn’t mind that, either.

He simply enjoyed the freedom to roam as he pleased, away from the stifling etiquette of the Imperial Palace.

Beheading enemy generals was also enjoyable and gave him a small sense of accomplishment; it was a life he found satisfactory in its own way.

Riding his favorite horse—who was like a comrade—and galloping across the vast battlefields with brothers-in-arms who shared life and death was also good.

The barracks were filthy and the food was meager, but it was a life so fulfilling that he thought he could live that way forever.

He had seen death countless times, but he had never once been afraid.

Living that way from such a young age, by the time he was seventeen, he was mockingly given titles like “God of War” or “Spirit of the Battlefield.”

In the middle of enemy territory, the number of subordinates he could trust with his back grew steadily, making for a reasonably satisfying life.

If it hadn’t been for the news that flew in from the capital just as the war was winding down, Gangcheon would have likely spent the rest of his life guarding the borders.

He had no interest in who took the throne.

What made Gangcheon decide to return to the capital was an express message from his maternal grandfather.

A few days after reading the letter containing a warning to beware of the Emperor and the Crown Prince, the next news he received was his grandfather’s obituary.

His grandfather, who was then a ninth-rank official, was said to have died after falling from a bridge over Dorim Stream while returning home from his duties.

The timing was far too coincidental.

Furthermore, an order to return to the capital was issued by the Emperor at that exact moment.

Unless one were a fool, it was obvious.

Either the Crown Prince or the Emperor—someone wanted to eliminate a Gangcheon who had grown too influential.

Gangcheon used the excuse that the war was not yet over to delay his return while sending his most trusted subordinates to the capital first.

Only after his men had cleanly carried out his command to prepare his return did he hear the news of the Emperor’s death and finally return to the capital.

Gangcheon’s leisurely return took place at the end of winter.

Since there were no Imperial family members left to hold a state funeral, the Emperor—who had been kept with ice all that time—was already emitting a foul stench of rot even in that season.

It was an insignificant beginning.

He had simply killed first because he didn’t want to die.

It was something he had done every time on the battlefield, so there was nothing special about it.

Wiping out an enemy entirely to leave no future trouble was also something he did without hesitation in war.

Thus, he naturally ascended as Emperor and purged almost all the officials belonging to the late Emperor’s faction.

There was even a justification, as it was Gangcheon’s own men who had prepared a rebellion to coincide with the enthronement ceremony.

If only that raccoon-like Minister of Rites hadn’t delayed his attendance on the day of the ceremony by claiming to have sprained his waist, the matter would have been handled cleanly.

However, the Minister of Rites survived, and a few days later, he appeared in the Great Hall as if nothing had happened and swore his loyalty.

No matter what was in the man’s heart, Gangcheon could not behead someone who had sworn loyalty before so many eyes, so he decided to watch him.

However, wiping out the Ministry of Rites proved more difficult than expected.

Due to having killed too many of those who participated in the rebellion, there was a shortage of talented men, and above all, he lacked the energy and time to create a justification immediately.

When the Minister of Rites and his close associates began petitioning to bring in an Empress, he had no room to care and let them proceed.

He had been suspicious as to why they were pushing the Prince of Yeonseo, but at the time, he was so busy he felt as though he barely had time to breathe, so he left it be.

In such a situation, how could he possibly care whether an unwanted young Empress was withering away alone or thriving?