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Join the ServerWatching that scene throughout the banquet had left Gangcheon feeling quite bitter.
Perhaps he had even been envious.
The affection of a family.
It was a concept he had never even thought to consider during the time his mother was alive.
Once he was out on the battlefield, rolling through the mud, he certainly had no leisure to recall such things.
He had never anticipated that a day would come in his life when he would envy something like that.
Yet, it was truly peculiar.
Looking at the gentle curve of the Empress’s eyes and hearing the small laughter that pierced through the music filling the banquet hall, he had felt an internal pang of envy.
If the Empress were to bear his child, he would surely raise them with great benevolence.
Gangcheon thought to himself that he wanted to enter the “fence” of a family raised by the Empress’s care.
He wanted to be the recipient of that affection.
Gangcheon closed his eyes tightly as he listened to Hyeon-pyeong’s suppressed screams.
Thinking of the Empress made his heart feel even heavier.
What was he to do with a man who, instead of letting go of his anger, only seemed to grow more incensed?
The Empress had told him to throw away both the letters and the flowers, but Gangcheon could not bring himself to give up even those.
Since his heart would boil over whenever he faced that cold voice in person, he had found himself unable to visit any longer.
So, once a day.
At the end of dinner, he sent Manchul to deliver a letter.
He told the eunuch that if the Empress refused to accept the letter, he was to read it aloud on the spot; upon his return, Manchul had worn a look of pure disgust.
[Your Majesty… were you trying to pick a fight with His Highness the Empress by sending that letter?]
[What are you talking about? I am going through all this cumbersome effort just so the Empress will let go of his anger and look upon me kindly.]
Gangcheon could still not forget the expression Manchul had worn while letting out a deep sigh.
‘That damned bastard.’
Recalling the eunuch’s face again, Gangcheon ground his teeth inwardly.
[What person in this world asks someone to look upon them kindly while giving commands to eat well and sleep soundly?]
[I do it because I am worried about his injury. I told him he must eat well and get a deep, restful sleep for the wound to heal quickly. What is so wrong with that to cause such a fuss?]
[Then you should have written that. Who is going to take it well when you bluntly write “Make sure you are eating well”? It is truly stifling, Your Majesty. If you are going to write like that, you might as well not send a letter at all.]
Recalling the conversation with Manchul, Gangcheon puffed out his cheeks in a sulky manner.
On that day, the eunuch had been so talkative that Gangcheon couldn’t even properly retort, listening to the man’s nagging for nearly an hour.
He had only barely managed to restrain the urge to sear the man’s tongue because he felt those words might actually be of some help.
And indeed, when he changed the content of his letters according to that nagging, answers began to return through Manchul.
Only then did Gangcheon realize that his way of speaking had sounded like nothing but a series of orders to the Empress.
He had believed he was treating him with tenderness.
Was the reason the Empress recoiled in disgust because of that very tone?
Consequently, Gangcheon had been getting a headache lately trying to expand his short notes into longer, more elaborate letters.
Since he had neglected his studies to train his body ever since his mother died, it was a natural result.
He had found even the events where others composed poetry for him to be tedious, so imagine the ordeal of having to compose words himself.
But he had to do it regardless.
Seeing the Empress’s eyes grow even more hollow recently had caused Gangcheon’s heart to drop in secret.
The fact that something had vanished from those eyes was something he had sensed occasionally before, but only now did he think he understood what emotion the man had discarded.
The Empress had changed far too much.
Once the shyness that had filled the eyes that used to lower submissively before him vanished, only a void remained.
The pink aura that used to flush around his eyes as he smiled quietly was nowhere to be seen.
Belatedly realizing this, Gangcheon’s mouth felt parched every time he met the Empress.
‘Was that it?’
‘I finally understand now.’
‘The Empress might have actually harbored a deep infatuation for me.’
Since they had always been a distant couple, there was no way to know when or how he had developed such feelings.
But as the saying goes, one may not notice a presence, but one certainly notices an absence.
Whenever he saw that vacant, hollow gaze, he couldn’t stay still.
He grew restless to the point that his body would fidget of its own accord.
‘I haven’t even properly heard those feelings voiced or seen them displayed yet.’
‘How can you take them back so heartlessly without ever showing me they existed?’
However, knowing that he was the one who made him that way, he couldn’t easily complain.
Thus, Gangcheon was currently doing his best in his own way to turn the man’s heart back.
He didn’t know how it looked to others, but for the current Gangcheon, this was his absolute best.
What would have happened if he hadn’t been too late?
Gangcheon was constantly curious about that.
What would it have been like to fully receive that man’s deep infatuation?
Thinking about it, Gangcheon had been struggling to sleep lately.
He would even bolt upright in the middle of the night, feeling the sheer waste of what he had missed.
But if it were the “him” of the past, he might not have cherished that infatuation even if he had received it in full.
In fact, he almost certainly wouldn’t have.
Part of the reason Gangcheon craved the man’s affection now was surely due to Sirak’s betrayal.
Watching Sirak stack lie upon lie without a second thought, Gangcheon had been thinking of the
Empress the entire time.
He missed that clumsy face that always showed the truth because he couldn’t even tell a trivial lie properly.
Yet, come to think of it, the Empress had also told quite a few lies.
He had claimed to lose his memory and said things about wanting to be cherished.
Recalling those things, he ought to find the man as contemptible as Sirak, yet for some reason, he could not.
Far from finding him contemptible, he now wanted to see the man’s smile even if it were a lie.
Gangcheon recalled the Empress’s calmly settled eyes and wore a dejected expression.
‘Could you not at least be good at lying and keep it up?’
‘Are you not the only one who would never dream of plotting treason or killing me?’
Above all else, Gangcheon believed in the Empress’s character.
He felt at ease by his side.
No matter how much the man hated someone, he wasn’t someone who could even conceive of murder.
The Empress was a person who would rather die himself than kill someone out of hatred.
Therefore, he felt he could overlook any number of small falsehoods.
No, he wanted to stay by his side even if it meant being lied to.
‘I see.’
Gangcheon opened his eyes, still wearing a dejected look.
It was true. He wanted to receive even a feigned affection.
He was curious if it would fill the void within him.
More than anything, he simply wanted to see the man’s smile.
How happy would he be if that benevolent smile, which was never shown to him, were directed his way?
He simply craved it.
‘To realize this only now.’
Gangcheon let out a quiet, deep sigh.
****
Jongseon returned with news from the confectionery room that the Noble Consort was suffering from a fever.
Haeryeong listened to the story with a complicated expression.
“He must have caught a chill. Iryeon, send someone to the Bureau of Medicine. I am concerned about the Consort’s condition.”
Iryeon looked quite displeased but obediently bowed and withdrew.
Left alone, Haeryeong stared intently at the area around the ceiling rafters.
Lately, Haeryeong had found a small amusement in searching for places where Su-yong might be hiding whenever he had a spare moment.
Haeryeong hadn’t even been able to move properly for the past few days due to the court ladies’ fussing.
It was only a minor shoulder injury, yet the court ladies were tending to him as if he were a newborn babe.
Thus, out of boredom, Haeryeong began scouting for spots where Su-yong might be, feeling like he had found a little game.
Of course, he had yet to actually spot Su-yong once.
However, if he just stared intently at a random spot, Su-yong was bound to appear eventually.
“Your Highness, please, just call for me instead.”
Haeryeong beamed as he saw the man glide into view once again.
Haeryeong pushed a plate of maejakgwa brought from the confectionery room toward the grumbling Su-yong and spoke.
“I have something to ask.”
Su-yong looked at the plate of crackers pushed toward him and let out a sigh.
“Please, ask.”
At Haeryeong’s gaze gesturing toward the opposite chair, Su-yong sat down as if forced.
He began to crunch on the piled-up crackers one by one, waiting for Haeryeong’s inquiry.
“I hear the Consort is ill.”
“He has likely been bedridden for about three days now.”
“Is there perhaps a separate reason for the Consort’s illness?”
Su-yong’s hand paused for a moment, but he quickly resumed moving his jaw as if nothing were wrong.
For a while, only the sound of the crisp, fried crackers being chewed filled the room.
“What is it exactly you are curious about?”
Suyong asked once the bottom of the plate began to show.
In the meantime, Haeryeong had brewed some tea and poured a cup for him.
Haeryeong cupped his own teacup with both hands and gazed into it.
“I wonder… I am not quite sure what I am curious about myself. But… for some reason, I am concerned that there might be a separate reason for the Consort’s illness.”
A person who was perfectly fine suddenly falling ill with a fever the moment the execution of the former Minister of Rites, Yun Hyeon-pyeong, was decided—how could he not be concerned?
He had been wondering about the connection between the two of them anyway.
But to have the Consort fall ill right on cue was even more suspicious.
‘Can the pieces truly fit together this perfectly? Even if one tried to align them on purpose, it would not be this seamless.’
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