Chapter 20: The Emperor’s Fragile Heart

To Hwaun, who could only blink in a daze, Ihan whispered, “As for the answer to whether I liked it… I shall give it to you once we are alone.”

Though it was a simple sentence, Hwaun’s face burned a deep crimson. The sexual undertone in the Emperor’s voice was devastatingly blunt. Without giving Hwaun a moment to bid farewell to the Empress or the other concubines, Ihan pulled him by the hand and strode out of the banquet hall.

“Quickly, attend to His Majesty!” “We see His Majesty off!”

Left behind in the banquet hall were the flustered voices of the servants and the sight of the concubines exchanging glances, eventually breaking into helpless smiles.

“Majesty….”

Hwaun spoke tentatively, unable to bear the Emperor’s silence as Ihan sat him on the bed and simply stared at him for a long time. It wasn’t that Hwaun had anything specific to say; he just needed a moment’s reprieve from that heavy, persistent gaze. Perhaps it worked, for the Emperor finally spoke.

“I should have studied poetry more diligently.”

“Poetry, Majesty…?”

“If I had, I could have written down exactly how beautiful you look right now, without filtering a single word, and shown it to you.”

At this unexpectedly brazen compliment, Hwaun’s face flushed again. Ihan, as if he had anticipated even this, let out a small laugh before raising his hand to carefully caress Hwaun’s face through the veil.

The sight of Hwaun’s features beneath the translucent red fabric had a unique, bewitching quality. Perhaps it was the color of the silk, but the face that usually looked so dignified and elegant now seemed tinged with a delicate sensuality.

“…In a wedding ceremony, there is a rite on the first night where the groom lifts the red veil from the bride’s face.”

Hwaun’s eyes widened at the word “wedding.” These were not words an Emperor should utter to a mere concubine. But Ihan continued regardless, toyed with the hem of the veil.

“Because I hold this position… though I cannot hold a wedding ceremony with you….”

“Majesty! How can you say such an unthinkable thing…!”

Hwaun spoke hurriedly, feeling a powerful premonition that he shouldn’t listen to any more, but Ihan silenced him with a gentle shake of his head and a serene expression. Meeting Hwaun’s trembling gaze, Ihan continued.

“I want you to know that on this night, my heart is no different from that of a man who has just wedded you.”

Having spoken, Ihan began to slowly touch Hwaun’s veil with a tender, longing hand—as if this truly were their first night, and as if they had pledged their lives to one another in a sacred bond of marriage.

It was not a wedding. It couldn’t be a first night. Even if the Emperor said so himself, it was not a reality Hwaun dared to accept. And yet, in that moment, Hwaun could not stop his heart from pounding as if it would burst. He felt breathless, his vision spinning.

Ihan’s finger moved slowly along the line of the veil covering the bridge of Hwaun’s nose. As the touch trailed from cheek to nose and back again, Hwaun’s lowered eyelashes fluttered. Ihan’s fingertips reached Hwaun’s ear, beginning to slide the veil down, but suddenly stopped. Before Hwaun could lift his eyes to see why, soft lips pressed against the red silk.

It was just a touch of the lips. A contact far more chaste than the deep kisses they had shared before. Yet, Hwaun felt his entire body stiffen. It was partly the sensation of the lips through the fabric, and partly the weight of the words the Emperor had just spoken.

Hwaun’s hands instinctively gripped the Emperor’s dragon robe. He realized for the first time that even without a lack of air, a moment could be this difficult to endure.

Lips touched and pulled away repeatedly. Through the silk, Ihan very gently nipped at Hwaun’s lower lip and let go. Each time, Hwaun’s fingertips twitched as his senses felt magnified.

Finally, pulling back his lips for a moment, Ihan looked Hwaun straight in the face and slowly untied the thin string knotted behind his ear. The fabric fell away silently, leaving the hidden face fully exposed.

Hwaun’s flawless face bore a faint, soft glow—perhaps a lingering blush from the kiss. Beautiful. Lovely. Exquisite. Emotions that couldn’t be captured by such simple words swirled within Ihan, and he cradled Hwaun’s small face with both hands once more.

“You know this, Un-ah….”

“…….”

“I truly, deeply love you….”

Hwaun couldn’t answer the tender confession. Before the words could even settle, Ihan moved in, his breath covering Hwaun’s. Their heated lips met in a familiar, practiced lock. Without hesitation, Ihan pushed his tongue into Hwaun’s mouth and applied pressure, laying Hwaun down and adjusting his posture over him.

In that motion, the small bell on Hwaun’s wrist let out a crystalline ring. Hwaun’s body tensed in surprise, but the sound only made Ihan recall the sight of Hwaun dancing with the sword. An intense heat began to flare.

The practice must have been grueling. Ihan knew Hwaun was once a skilled swordsman and an imperial guard, but Yeon Hwaun’s current body was different from the one he had once possessed. For a person who became breathless just from walking quickly to perform such a dance with a sword, the effort must have been monumental.

Furthermore, Hwaun was someone who never cut corners. Knowing he had prepared this for the Emperor’s birthday, it was obvious he had pushed himself to the limit. When someone realizes their lover has exerted such effort solely for them, it is impossible to remain calm.

Breathing heavily, Ihan sucked hard on Hwaun’s tongue and began to unfasten the sash cinching Hwaun’s slender waist.

“Ma—Majesty, wait a moment…!”

Hwaun, who had been clinging to Ihan’s neck like a man caught in a tidal wave, offering up every bit of his soft interior, suddenly turned his head away, dodging the Emperor’s lips.

“Shh, do not be afraid.”

“No, it… hhh… it is not that…!”

Ihan assumed he was moving too fast and scaring Hwaun, so he tried to soothe him with a tender voice. But Hwaun shook his head even more vehemently, and this time, he actually used his hands to push against the Emperor’s shoulders. Desperately.

No matter how desperate the effort, the strength was so weak that Ihan could have easily overpowered it. However, the moment he realized Hwaun was truly rejecting him, Ihan froze as if struck by lightning and scrambled backward. His face, which had been flushed with heat, turned deathly pale in an instant. His voice shook unnervingly as he asked.

“D-do you… truly… do you dislike it…?”

The Emperor’s voice sounded like that of a child on the verge of tears. It was understandable—this was the first time Hwaun had ever clearly rejected Ihan in the bedchamber.

Hwaun was always shy, which usually resulted in Ihan taking the lead, but Ihan knew better than anyone that Hwaun enjoyed their intimacy. Ihan was the one who looked into Hwaun’s eyes from the closest distance and held his body in the deepest embrace. Even when he lost his reason to passion, he could never be oblivious to Hwaun’s pleasure or emotions.

If Hwaun had truly hated or feared their nights together, Ihan could never have brought himself to haunt Hwaun’s bed every night.

But now, Ihan felt a genuine intent in the hands pushing his shoulders away. This wasn’t the shrinking back of embarrassment or modesty; Hwaun truly wanted Ihan to move away.

“Did I… did I push you… too much….”

Ihan’s eyes trembled with shock and devastation. It would have made sense if he had been angry. If he had raged at a mere concubine for daring to reject the Emperor’s touch, it would have been within his rights.

But Ihan wasn’t angry; he was terrified. The question of “Why did he push me?” spiraled into “Has he finally grown tired of me?!” in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t just any day; it was his birthday. On such a day, he couldn’t imagine any reason for rejection other than a heart that had grown cold.