Chapter 19: The Emperor’s Only One

At last, the music and Hwaun’s sword dance came to a halt. For a long moment, no one dared to clap; the silence was absolute. Even the sequence of Hwaun slowly sheathing his sword, catching his ragged breath, and sinking to his knees was as beautiful as a curated performance.

With the sword laid beside him, Hwaun formed a formal martial arts salute (pogwon) with both hands. In that instant, a warrior’s aura radiated from him, causing several palace maids to instinctively bite their lips in awe.

It had been Ajin who first suggested that Hwaun perform a sword dance for the Emperor’s birthday. Once, the mere sight of a sword had filled Hwaun with the agonizing guilt of deceiving the Emperor. But after baring his soul to Ihan and receiving his acceptance, Hwaun found the courage to hold a blade once more. While he could never reclaim the martial prowess of his past life, he did not want to fully abandon the “friend” he had lived with for so long.

As his practice sessions grew longer, it became impossible to hide them from the servants of Jeongan Palace. Eventually, Ajin and several other young servants discovered his secret. From then on, he no longer had to seek out secluded corners of the garden at dawn; he could practice freely within his own quarters.

It was also Ajin who first told him that his swordsmanship looked like a dance. To Hwaun, his movements felt frustratingly clumsy in a body that couldn’t keep up with the mind of ‘Haun,’ but to the eyes of the servants, it was something else entirely.

Hwaun truly couldn’t understand it, but the number of servants who gathered to catch a glimpse of his practice grew steadily. To them, the sight of their master swinging a sword under the midnight moonlight made him look like an immortal descended from the Moon Palace.

It was a good thing Ajin had strictly warned everyone—threatening to kick out anyone who breathed a word of this outside Jeongan Palace—otherwise, a crowd of admirers would have already formed across the Imperial Palace.

Thus, Ajin had eventually told her master: “If His Majesty saw you like this, he would be so overjoyed he wouldn’t be able to hide his heart.”

Hwaun, having never performed a formal dance in his life, had refused several times. However, he had secretly felt guilty about not being able to prepare a special gift for the Emperor’s previous birthday.

He remembered the frustration of racking his brain, trying to find a gift for a man who already possessed every treasure under the sun. Nothing felt sufficient.

So, in the end, Hwaun prepared this. Believing Ajin’s words that he didn’t need to try to “dance,” he simply practiced the swordsmanship his body was capable of, over and over again. Hwaun didn’t realize it, but Ajin had already envisioned how stunning her master would look once properly dressed.

And finally, today. Hwaun gave his absolute best, performing the movements he had practiced until his body ached. Releasing his salute, he prostrated himself with a reverent heart and raised his voice.

“I offer my sincere congratulations on Your Imperial Majesty’s birth.”

Only then did the frozen air break. The concubines and the dazed servants all turned their eyes toward the Emperor’s seat. The concubines rose and knelt in unison, bowing their heads.

“We offer our sincere congratulations on Your Imperial Majesty’s birth!”

Dozens of voices filled the banquet hall. Only then did Ihan snap out of his distant trance. But the noise did nothing to shatter the profound emotion he was feeling.

Ihan did not tell the others to rise. Though many were kneeling, there was only one person he needed to reach before anyone else. His gaze—which no grand performance or magnificent gift had ever been able to fully capture—was fixed solely on one man.

The one person whose special status was undeniable to all. The only person the Emperor loved, favored, and adored so openly that he made no effort to hide it.

For Seong Ihan, there was only Yeon Hwaun.

Ihan slowly rose from his seat and began to walk. The hall was silent; only the chirping of insects proved that time hadn’t stopped. No one dared to look up, yet everyone knew exactly what kind of expression the Emperor wore as he walked that path. He did not hesitate for a single second, walking straight toward the one man.

And the Great Emperor of Anguk—the Son of Heaven who had never bowed his head or bent his waist for anyone—Seong Ihan knelt on one knee before Hwaun. He reached out and carefully took Hwaun’s shoulders to lift him up.

“Majesty, why…!”

Startled to find the Emperor kneeling before him in the presence of everyone, Hwaun tried to speak, but Ihan silenced him with a gentle smile and a shake of his head.

Ihan’s hands were incredibly careful as he helped Hwaun stand. He reached out to caress Hwaun’s cheek over the red veil. Part of him wanted to see Hwaun’s face in full, but strangely, he felt loath to reveal it to everyone else.

Ihan suddenly realized that everyone in the room had witnessed this precious dance. A sudden fire of jealousy flickered in his heart. He should have danced only for me. Why did he perform this for all these eyes? He was already displeased by the way people talked about Hwaun.

Suppressing his rising pettiness, Ihan spoke softly to the man who had worked so hard for him.

“Why did you prepare something so strenuous?”

His first words were not of joy, but of concern. In a way, it was natural. It was Ihan himself who had “tormented” Hwaun until that morning. Knowing the state Hwaun must have been in, he couldn’t help but worry about him performing such a physical feat.

If I had known, I would have restrained myself this morning, he thought, though he doubted he actually could have. Realizing how shameless such a worry might seem from Hwaun’s perspective, Ihan felt a bit sheepish. Hwaun answered in a small voice.

“It was for Your Majesty; how could it be called strenuous? I was only….”

“……?”

“I was only worried whether it would please Your Majesty’s heart….”

As Hwaun lowered his gaze while answering, Ihan took a deep breath. Without replying further to Hwaun, he turned to the crowd still bowing and spoke loudly.

“Everyone, rise.”

He waited for them to stand before continuing.

“Thanks to all of you, today’s banquet was deeply enjoyable. Rewards shall be granted to everyone here, as well as to those who worked behind the scenes to prepare this festival.”

“Your grace is as vast as the sea, Your Majesty!”

It was customary for everyone to receive rewards on the Emperor’s birthday, but this decree meant an extra bounty. From the concubines’ palaces to every single servant, the Emperor’s favor was overflowing.

But the Emperor wasn’t finished.

“However, due to my recent duties, I am fatigued in mind and body, so I shall retire now to rest. The rest of you may remain and enjoy yourselves comfortably.”

“Yes, Your Majesty! Your grace is as vast as the sea!”

The servants bowed deeply once more, their voices echoing.

Ihan shared a brief look with Jaran. She smiled calmly and nodded, as if she had expected this all along. Only then did Ihan turn back to Hwaun and, in front of everyone, took his hand. Not only was Hwaun startled, but gasps of shock could be heard throughout the hall.

Rumors that the Emperor spent his free time wandering the palace gardens while holding Jin-bi’s hand were already widespread, but few had actually seen it with their own eyes. It was rare for common servants to witness such intimacy between the Emperor and his favorite.

Most had only heard unbelievable rumors—that the Emperor walked hand-in-hand with Jin-bi in the Water Flower Garden, or that he had personally carried him to his palanquin when Jin-bi felt dizzy.

But now, right here, with countless eyes watching, the Emperor had reached out and held a male consort’s hand without a moment’s hesitation.