Chapter 11: Hollow Tenderness

“My arm is about to fall off. Hurry, take a bite.”

Acting as if his arm were aching from the effort, he brought the spoon of rice gruel to Haeryeong’s lips.

Haeryeong reached out his hand, attempting to take the spoon from him.

“I shall eat it myself.”

“Now, now. This is an Imperial command.”

Unable to bring himself to glare at the Emperor, Haeryeong lowered his eyes and reluctantly parted his lips.

The rice gruel, cooled to a perfect temperature, flowed into his mouth.

Perhaps because he had fasted for so long, even swallowing the thin gruel was an agonizing ordeal.

When his face involuntarily contorted and he let out a dry cough, the Emperor let out a faint, airy laugh.

“You are so fragile; I worry how you shall ever produce an Imperial heir.”

Haeryeong did not respond to his remark and kept his eyes fixed downward.

He did not have the courage to look at the man’s likely smirking expression.

Even though he knew the man was doing this on purpose, every single word felt as if it were tearing his heart to pieces.

However, he could not allow himself to be shaken.

Pretending to stifle a cough, Haeryeong used the sleeve of his sleeping robe to hide his hardening expression.

Once, twice. Every time the Emperor moved his hand, Haeryeong obediently opened his mouth.

As his empty stomach gradually filled, the throbbing headache began to fade.

The Emperor, whom he expected to grow bored after a few bites and stop, surprisingly continued to feed him slowly until the bowl was empty.

After setting aside the empty bowl, he rose from the bed.

Suppressing the sigh of relief that threatened to burst out, Haeryeong gripped his collar as the Emperor whispered in a tender, affectionate tone.

“Recover quickly. The spring flowers are blooming, so we shall pick an auspicious day to go flower-viewing at the Buyeong Pavilion.”

“Regrettably, we will miss the red plum blossoms you love so much, but the magnolias should be in full bloom by the time you have recovered.”

“Did I… love red plum blossoms?”

Haeryeong asked him, feigning ignorance.

He acted as though he hadn’t noticed the man’s hidden intent—mentioning the flowers favored by the Noble Consort and the name of the pavilion the Consort loved.

Once his racing heart settled, hiding his true feelings was easier than expected.

It was, after all, something he had always done.

The Emperor stood and quietly scanned the face Haeryeong had lifted toward him.

“Was it only red plum blossoms? You loved trumpet creepers and peonies as well. The rear garden is filled with flowers because of you.”

Haeryeong blinked slowly, searching the Emperor’s face before letting out a faint smile.

“How strange. I have always loved irises the most. It seems I have become a completely different person in the three years I have been in Yeoran.”

Gangcheon’s eyebrows twitched slightly before settling back into place.

He reached out and stealthily caressed Haeryeong’s cheek.

“Then I must order irises to be planted at the Buyeong Pavilion. We shall enjoy the iris blossoms along with some sudaan for the Yudu Festival this year.”

The Emperor left the bedchamber after leaving word that he would return for dinner.

The moment he disappeared beyond the door, the air in the room stirred with the collective sighs of several people.

Haeryeong buried his face in his palms, the physician let out a sigh of relief, and Iryeon and the court ladies let out piteous laments.

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

“I must rest. It feels as if my headache is returning.”

With Iryeon’s assistance, Haeryeong lay back down on the bed.

Only now did he notice the wound on her forehead as she pulled the quilt up to his neck.

“You said your name was… Iryeon, correct?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“What happened to your forehead?”

She shook her head gently with a shy smile.

“It is nothing of importance. Your Highness, do you feel discomfort anywhere else?”

Haeryeong could vaguely guess why her forehead was in that state.

Since the Emperor, who had never shown any interest, had visited last night, it was surely related to him.

His heart ached.

There were so few people on his side in this vast Imperial Palace, yet he had to pretend not to know such things.

Even though it was certain she had been injured because of the Emperor, it pained him that he couldn’t even properly offer her his concern.

“I wish to rest undisturbed, so you may leave. Do not let anyone in until dinner.”

As Haeryeong closed his eyes, the physician and the court ladies quietly vacated the room.

Only after the rustling sounds faded and the door was softly shut did Haeryeong curl onto his side toward the inner part of the bed.

A sob welled up in his throat, but he could not make a sound.

The Emperor had undoubtedly left members of the Black Shadow Unit behind, so he could not let his guard down even when alone.

Pretending to groan from a headache, Haeryeong burrowed deeper into the quilt.

In the darkness beneath the covers, he snapped his eyes open and bit down on his thumb.

‘Did I make any mistakes?’

He retraced the events since he had woken up, but he couldn’t be certain.

In those first moments when his headache was severe, he couldn’t even remember exactly what he had said.

It was fortunate that Iryeon had misinterpreted his dazed reactions on her own when he first woke.

‘But how was I in front of the Emperor?’

Haeryeong replayed their conversation, chewing over every single word the Emperor had spoken.

He was already so exhausted; he wondered if he could truly pull this off.

Could he achieve his goal before the Emperor grew bored of this game?

It was difficult to keep his thoughts straight while his body was still weak.

Yet, even as his consciousness began to flicker, Haeryeong racked his brain desperately.

‘What should I do now?’

‘If I were the seventeen-year-old Haeryeong, how would I have acted before an Emperor playing the part of a tender husband?’

He suddenly grew curious.

Just how would the seventeen-year-old Haeryeong have responded to an Emperor acting in such a way?

A sigh escaped him involuntarily.

Was it not obvious even without seeing it?

Was he not a child who had harbored expectations despite such cold neglect?

Could the Haeryeong of that time have even handled a heart racing with such fluttering excitement?

At that thought, a hollow laugh escaped him.

‘If you were going to act so tenderly, you should have done so from the beginning.’

Realizing the source of his resentment, Haeryeong quietly closed his eyes.

‘You are a fool, Haeryeong.’

‘Do you still have expectations left for that man?’

‘Do not do it. Haeryeong, do not do such a thing.’

‘What use is it to accept such empty kindness? Are you still coveting the leftover scraps of affection he gives to others? That man does not belong to you. You know this. You know he belongs to the Noble Consort.’

‘Haeryeong, can you not see the blade honed to a chill behind his smile? So let us not do this. Let us ask nothing of him.’

His trembling eyelashes grew quiet and wet.

Haeryeong slowly exhaled a damp breath and sought sleep.

Recovering his strength was the priority.

He wanted to face the future with a clear mind after a thorough rest.

Before the sun set, Haeryeong struggled to push himself up from the bed.

It was still difficult to properly steady his body, but he had to finish his preparations before the Emperor arrived for dinner.

Sensing the restless energy of the court ladies who were anxious about the lack of time, Haeryeong had no choice but to drag his heavy body out of bed.

After washing in a tub filled with hot water, he was already exhausted, wishing for nothing more than to lie back down.

There was no one who would look upon him with love even if he made himself beautiful, so what did he hope to gain by doing this?

He had considered using his illness as an excuse.

However, even if he lacked his memory, his body was accustomed to palace life since childhood, so he could not dismiss the court ladies who were hurrying with his grooming.

Since lying in bed might actually arouse suspicion, Haeryeong forced himself to take staggering steps forward.

Jeong-a combed his hair as he sat before the vanity.

Haeryeong stared into the mirror, then turned his gaze away from the gaunt face reflected in the glass.

It was a face that looked more like a corpse than a living person.

The sight of his hollow cheeks, thinned over the last fifteen days, was almost comical; he couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.

“Your Highness, I shall apply a light touch of rouge to your lips.”

Haeryeong pushed away Iryeon’s hand as she approached to apply rouge to his pale, parched lips and rose from his chair.

“The rouge is unnecessary. Just help me dress.”

The Emperor wouldn’t care what the Empress’s face looked like anyway.

It would be a miracle if he even remembered his promise and showed up.

He only wished the man wouldn’t come at all.

Because he could not show that feeling to anyone, Haeryeong simply scanned the floor with downcast eyes.

The court ladies moved quickly to arrange Haeryeong’s attire.

Over his inner tunic, they draped a light indigo robe, and to his navy blue belt, they attached a norigae made of comma-shaped jade, jade beads, and gold beads.

The sleeves of his inner tunic were fastened with navy blue wrist guards embroidered with phoenixes in gold and red thread.

The wrist guards, occasionally visible beneath the wide sleeves of his robe, had been hand-embroidered by Iryeon for his twentieth birthday.

Locking eyes with the phoenix, the symbol of the Empress, Haeryeong let out a bitter smile inwardly.

As he looked down at Iryeon, who was adjusting his trailing hem, she offered him a shy smile.

It was a relief to see that the wound on her forehead had been treated during the day, looking much better than before.

‘How difficult it must be to serve such a pathetic master.’

Haeryeong bit the tender flesh inside his cheek, feeling as though he might burst into complaints against his will.

“Your Highness, shall I tie up your hair?”

He shook his head as he saw Jeong-a approaching with a jewelry box containing hair ornaments.

“I still have a lingering headache, so that will be enough.”

In any case, that jewelry box held nothing more precious than what the Noble Consort possessed.

The Emperor wouldn’t care what expensive ornaments Haeryeong used to adorn himself.

Was it because everything had become futile, or because his body felt so heavy?

He felt that even Jeonga’s touch as she handled his hair was becoming difficult to bear.

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