Chapter 10: The Secret of the Fingertips

It was rare enough for a mere servant of a concubine’s palace to have a private audience with the Emperor, let alone to stand upright and report directly to him. Yet, both the Emperor and Ajin appeared perfectly composed, as if this were a routine occurrence.

And indeed, it was. This was not the first time they had shared such a private meeting after Hwaun had fallen asleep.

Ihan got straight to the point.

“I noticed today that there is a very small wound on Jin-bi’s fingertip. Were you aware of this?”

The Emperor’s voice was heavy and grave. Ajin could sense both deep concern and a faint trace of anger in that tone. Given how devoted the Emperor was to his master, Ajin had suspected he might notice, but he was still surprised that such a minute detail had been caught.

The “wound” the Emperor spoke of was so slight that it was practically invisible to a casual observer. Ajin fought back a smile that threatened to surface at the realization of the Emperor’s attentiveness, and bowed his head.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“…And yet you answer so calmly.”

Seeing that Ajin—who was usually just as sensitive as the Emperor when it came to Hwaun—showed no signs of alarm, the tension in Ihan’s body relaxed slightly. This exchange was precisely why they met in secret: it was a time for Ihan to gather the truths that Hwaun’s own selflessness might hide.

The Emperor continued.

“So… how did your master come to be injured?”

Ihan had a few grievances when it came to Hwaun. Most were born of jealousy—like Hwaun being kind to everyone or spending too much time with other concubines like Jeong-bin or Suk-bi. But the greatest, most genuine grievance was Hwaun’s utter indifference toward his own physical well-being.

Hwaun was a man who meticulously cared for the Emperor’s health and the well-being of the youngest servants in Jeongan Palace, yet he was hopelessly dense and stubborn when it came to his own body. Because Ihan could not be by his side every hour of the day, he often found himself worrying after the fact, discovering a sickness or injury only when it had already become serious.

Ajin was the solution to this. While Ajin had always provided occasional updates, he now had a regular, secret audience to report everything he observed regarding Hwaun’s health.

Normally, information given to an Emperor must be precise and factual, but Ihan did not demand such accuracy from Ajin. He welcomed uncertainties, mere hunches, or vague premonitions. Ajin was Hwaun’s shadow, and if his intuition suggested something was wrong, the Emperor took it seriously. Remarkably, when it came to Hwaun, Ajin’s “gut feelings” were almost never wrong.

Furthermore, Ajin held a secret authority: the right to request an audience with the Emperor at any time if he deemed a situation urgent. For a palace maid, this was an unthinkable privilege, one that even low-ranking government officials did not possess. Ihan allowed this because, beneath the heavens, he prioritized Yeon Hwaun above all logic or protocol.

In response to the question, Ajin knelt again.

“I crave your professional pardon, Your Majesty. At this moment, there is nothing I can report regarding that wound.”

“…Nothing you can report?”

There were few in the palace bold enough to tell the Emperor they would not speak. Yet Ajin, showing no fear, kept his head bowed and continued.

“Yes, Your Majesty. This is a matter that Mama will soon report to you personally. Therefore, please punish this servant for being unable to speak of it now.”

“Hah….”

Usually, Ajin was the first to tattle on any injury Hwaun sustained. For him to hold out even when asked directly meant there was a significant reason, though Ihan could not guess what it was.

Ihan could have used his imperial authority to force Ajin to speak. By law, Ajin’s refusal was a grave offense. However, Ihan looked down at the bowed maid in silence. He knew that if this were something truly harmful to Hwaun, Ajin would speak even if a sword were at his throat.

“…Then. It is certain that this is not something I need to worry about?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will serve Mama with even greater care, so please lay down your worries.”

Ihan tapped his finger against the arm of the chair. Concern was now replaced by curiosity. What could it be that even Ajin—and specifically to him—would keep it so well-hidden?

“Very well. I shall trust your word and overlook this.”

“Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty.”

“You may return now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Suppressing his curiosity, Ihan rose and left the side room, heading back to the bedroom where Hwaun slept. His pace quickened instinctively, unable to bear even a short separation.

He re-entered the room quietly, holding his breath so as not to wake the sleeper. He sat carefully on the bed and took Hwaun’s hand to examine the tip. Though Ajin’s words had eased his mind, seeing the trace of the wound on that fair skin still made his heart ache.

If he could, he would banish all pain from Hwaun’s life forever. If that were impossible, he would gladly take all that pain upon himself. It was a thought unbecoming of an Emperor, whose safety was tied to the safety of the nation, but he did not care.

“…Do not be hurt.”

Even if his love for Yeon Hwaun were to be remembered as a flaw in his legacy, it wouldn’t matter. The path to not becoming a dark ruler like the late King lay within his own heart. As long as he walked his own “Righteous Path” with a clear conscience, the eyes of the world meant nothing.

Ihan whispered as quietly as a breath and pressed his lips to Hwaun’s fingertip. Thinking of how Hwaun had crossed so many arduous paths to reach his arms, Ihan wanted to give him every good thing in the world.

“…Your Majesty……?”

Suddenly, Hwaun’s voice drifted through the air. Startled, Ihan pulled his lips away. Hwaun was struggling to open his sleep-heavy eyes. His face, scrunched up as he fought to lift his eyelids, was impossibly lovely. Overwhelmed by affection, Ihan kissed his eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“…No, Majesty… but more importantly….”

“…….”

“Why are you awake…?”

Hwaun asked, his eyes opening wider now. Concern quickly flooded his gaze. Even in his sleep, his sensitive heart had worried that the Emperor might be staying awake due to some heavy burden of state.

Ihan was so happy—to have such a person as his lover, and to be recognized as his lover in return—that it felt unreal. He pulled Hwaun into a tight, forceful embrace.

“Majesty…. Did you perhaps have a nightmare…?”

Hwaun’s voice grew heavier at the sudden intensity of the embrace. Despite being startled and half-asleep, he naturally wrapped his arms around Ihan’s back and patted him soothingly. Ihan buried his face in Hwaun’s shoulder and shook his head.

“A nightmare? No. I just happened to wake for a moment. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course. With you here in my arms, what nightmare would dare disturb my night?”

“…I am glad, then.”

At the firm, unwavering voice, Hwaun finally relaxed and leaned fully into Ihan’s embrace. The Emperor was not lying. Ever since their hearts had aligned and they had begun to love each other so completely, the nightmares that once haunted Ihan’s nights had faded away. He no longer saw blood in his dreams.

Savoring every miraculous moment that had occurred since meeting Hwaun, Ihan whispered.

“Yes. So, let us sleep again.”

“May Your Majesty… also put away all difficult matters… and sleep quickly….”

“…….”

“I will… always stay by your side and protect you….”

Hwaun’s final words were tiny and fragile, muffled by the encroaching sleep, but to Ihan’s heart, they were a weapon stronger and more reliable than any sharp sword or bow.

“…Sleep well.”

The Emperor’s voice, filled with love, closed the door on the night. No trivial nightmare could possibly enter.