Chapter 11: The Ducal Tongue and a Shared Meal

Lee Doha, who had been staring blankly at Hilt, suddenly blew a puff of air downwards. The light breath ruffled Siohan’s bangs. Siohan flinched at the unexpected gust.

Hilt’s eyes widened, and the hand gripping his hilt trembled visibly. ‘Oh, really?’ Lee Doha thought, a smirk playing on his lips as he adjusted his hold on Siohan.

Siohan was tall, with long limbs. Not being a small girl, when Lee Doha pulled him closer, their faces were intimately close.

Lee Doha stared intently at Hilt as he lowered his head. Though he bowed, the palace guards, their eyes wide with a curiosity that could kill a cat, gasped at the sight.

Lee Doha’s cheek settled near Siohan’s forehead. As he slowly rubbed his cheek, much like a cat, Siohan chuckled silently, his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

The sensation of Siohan’s smooth hair against his cheek, and the faint tremors of his laughter transmitted through his arm, felt so pleasant that Lee Doha found himself unconsciously smiling as well.

He had momentarily forgotten his intention to tease Hilt. But looking back, he saw Hilt’s face was now beet red, as if it might burst.

A grinding sound could be heard, as if Hilt was clenching his jaw so hard his teeth might shatter. ‘Oh dear,’ Lee Doha thought.

With Siohan’s head tilted towards him, anyone observing would undoubtedly conclude that the ailing emperor, unable to even support his own body, was being shamelessly harassed by a low-born foreigner. It would have been a profoundly distressing sight.

Regardless, Lee Doha chuckled, pressing his cheek a little further against Siohan. Feeling pleased, he no longer paid any mind to Hilt.

“Move, I need to eat.”

“…Your Majesty, I will attend to you,” Hilt managed to speak, his voice sounding as if he were being strangled. His eyes, however, clearly conveyed a desire to strangle Lee Doha himself.

“It’s fine, just move. Do you usually make people say things twice?” Lee Doha asked Siohan.

Siohan lightly patted Lee Doha’s chest, a subtle signal to stop teasing. Indeed, the corridor was wide; there was no reason they couldn’t pass even if Hilt didn’t move.

Lee Doha walked past them. Both Hilt and the palace guards hastily retreated, as if afraid to brush against Siohan.

Lee Doha, who had been walking along breezily, suddenly stopped short after only a few steps. ‘Wait a minute.’

“Where’s the dining hall?”

This poor, loyal knight had to guide Lee Doha, who was carrying his emperor with effortless grace, to what Lee Doha called the ‘dining hall’ — a casual term that made the knight inwardly seethe.

Hilt had been gritting his teeth so hard throughout that Siohan, fearing he might break them, kindly instructed him to withdraw and rest.

It hardly seemed like an act of mercy to the knight. Despite his obvious reluctance, he could not even defy Siohan’s command with a glance, and promptly vanished.

The vast dining hall was now empty, save for Lee Doha and Siohan.

“That was Sir Edite. He’s part of my guard, a very loyal knight.”

Perhaps thinking that since they had already met twice and exchanged such ‘friendly’ gazes, an introduction was in order, Siohan spoke.

“He’s a blockhead.” Lee Doha replied curtly.

Of course, Lee Doha cared little whether the knight’s name was Edite or Didite. He was more interested in observing the dishes that were beginning to fill the dining table.

Though he had never been particularly fixated on food, his hunger, coupled with the fact that this was cuisine from another world—not just another country—piqued his interest. However, that interest was short-lived.

Siohan had clearly asked for a simple meal. Yet, atop the enormous dining table—large enough for four people to hold hands and tap-dance across—an endless array of dishes continued to appear.

Only two people were seated, yet the spread looked easily enough for ten.

Indeed. If this was the kind of feast they served, he could understand why Siohan had said not to eat in bed.

“Hmm,” Lee Doha hummed, gazing at the dazzlingly full table.

“…Do people here have rather large stomachs? Or do they eat more than they look like they do?” Lee Doha glanced at Siohan, asking as if to himself.

Siohan, who had been watching Lee Doha watch the food, chuckled softly.

“Hardly,” Siohan replied. “They’ve been a bit overzealous lately. It’s excessive, but they pleaded so earnestly for my understanding. It’s fortunate to have someone to share it with.”

‘Pleading for understanding over food? What nonsense,’ Lee Doha thought. He cast a quick glance at Siohan. His complexion remained pale.

“For your health?”

“Perhaps that’s their wish?”

“You’ll get indigestion eating all this.”

‘Nourishing oneself with food? What kind of Korean mindset is this?’ Lee Doha thought. ‘Even Oz isn’t any different, it seems.’

Shaking his head, he brought his fork to a dish delicately garnished like a rose. He speared a piece and put it in his mouth; it was chewy and tasted exactly like *gopchang*.

“What is this?”

“It’s a ducal tongue.”

“Pfft—!”

Bits of food sprayed across the table. Siohan subtly dodged as Lee Doha coughed violently, wiping his mouth.

“Are you insane? Why would anyone eat this?!”

“Quite a few people consider it a delicacy,” Siohan replied. “Does it not taste good?”

“It’s not about the taste, it’s a tongue!”

“It’s probably not much different from the bovine entrails you eat in your world…” Siohan said.

Bovine entrails. Gopchang was gopchang, but when referred to as bovine entrails, a tongue or entrails seemed equally unappetizing. Having just thought it tasted similar to gopchang, Lee Doha found himself speechless.

He felt he was beginning to understand this miraculously handsome emperor. Siohan didn’t seem oblivious, yet he constantly left Lee Doha at a loss for words.

No, it wasn’t that he was oblivious; he merely pretended to be. Those golden eyes, twinkling with a sly smile, were utterly mischievous.

Lee Doha, having lost his appetite, put down his fork. Siohan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders slightly, and placed a hand on the table.

Several plates, likely those that had caught the unfortunate spray from Lee Doha, were pushed aside, while others were brought closer to Siohan. The dishes Siohan pushed towards Lee Doha were, at a glance, much milder-looking.

There appeared to be no challenging dishes like anuses or eyeballs among them.

‘…’ While grateful, he felt a little embarrassed. Lee Doha straightened his slightly curled fingertips and picked up his spoon again.

A yellow, pudding-like substance resisted briefly before yielding elastically and settling onto his spoon. Lee Doha glanced at Siohan as if for confirmation, then put it in his mouth.

It was soft, warm, moderately sweet, and savory. It tasted like steamed egg custard, made into a pudding. ‘It’s delicious.’

Lee Doha quickly regained his appetite. After tasting a couple more dishes, his fork grew more adventurous with renewed confidence. He was eyeing something resembling chili shrimp when, *Clang!* A metallic clatter suddenly echoed loudly.

The ‘dining hall’ was unnecessarily vast; clearing the huge table would leave enough space to play baseball, so the sound reverberated with a distinct deng-deng.

Lee Doha flinched and looked up. A silver spoon, exquisitely crafted right down to its handle, lay quivering in the center of the table. The chili shrimp-like item that had fallen from it slid under a plate, leaving a red trail.

Siohan’s hand hovered in the air, his face looking somewhat flustered. Their gazes met in mid-air.

Siohan gave a shy smile at Lee Doha’s skeptical look, then let out a sigh so delicate it sounded as if he might break. “It’s a bit heavy.”

“Don’t give me that bullsh*t, seriously…” Ultimately, harsh words slipped out. Lee Doha was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even frown.

Siohan looked troubled, though Lee Doha couldn’t for the life of him understand why. Who would believe that he dropped a shrimp from a spoon because it was ‘too heavy’?

What was even more astounding was how utterly convincing Siohan’s sorrowfully downturned eyebrows looked. It occurred to Lee Doha that if he were a local, he might have believed it, saying something like, ‘Your Majesty, was the spoon—or perhaps the shrimp—too heavy?’ This thought only exasperated him further. It was truly chillingly manipulative.

“It’s true. My fingertips are trembling.”

Siohan held out his hand. Though suspicious, Lee Doha looked closely and saw that, indeed, it was trembling faintly. “Huh—” Lee Doha let out a hollow laugh. No matter how much of an Ozian Siohan was, a little outside his common sense, he wouldn’t be able to fake peripheral nerve tremors.

“You really are a patient, I’m definitely your caregiver.” Lee Doha scooped up the aforementioned shrimp and offered it. Siohan, who hadn’t expected this, looked surprised, then smiled like a flower.

Lee Doha had never in his wildest dreams imagined he would ever think such a thing while looking at a man’s face, but it was true. It felt as if baby angels were fluttering around, ringing bells. ‘This crazy…’ While Lee Doha bit his tongue, Siohan ate the shrimp from the tip of the spoon Lee Doha offered.

“It’s delicious.”

“Of course it is. You call someone at the crack of dawn, ask to be held, then fed. It *has* to be delicious, right? What kind of situation is this, it’s not some credit card rollover scheme. Do you have any conscience?”

Lee Doha was sure Siohan hadn’t always been this frail, like a chicken on medicine. Aside from his pale complexion, he was, quite literally, radiant. His hair shimmered so brightly that light seemed to glide off it, his skin gleamed, and his well-toned physique was robust. Though he appeared slender, he was packed with muscle. Any hint of delicate illness seemed to shrink like hair before a flame near him.

Therefore, Siohan’s current sickly appearance was entirely due to overexertion from summoning Insodable—Lee Doha. And then he summoned Lee Doha again, complaining that the spoon was heavy, making Lee Doha care for him. This, in turn, used up more magic, worsening his condition, and the worse he got, the more he summoned Lee Doha.

It was a vicious cycle of utter chaos. Even a credit card rollover scheme had more cause and conscience than this. Lee Doha clicked his tongue.

“Hey, that… fish fillet.”

“…No, he doesn’t. Conscience, that is.”

Nothing could astound him more. Even as he furrowed his brows, Lee Doha felt a sense of resignation and picked up a fish fillet. It was cut into small pieces, seasoned, and even garnished with tiny, nail-sized flowers, so there was nothing more to do than simply eat it. He gave some to Siohan and ate a piece himself.

Repeating this a few times, they found themselves sharing bites. It was an unexpectedly intimate meal.