Chapter 52: Shadows in the Garden

The contact that had begun as a mere brush of their palms deepened into something far more intimate. Their fingers intertwined like tangled vines.

Rejecting that level of closeness, Anok tried to pull his hand away, but Yeo Jae-won tightened his grip. His thick, calloused hand easily overpowered him with minimal effort. Anok was firmly trapped.

“We are outside our residence, not within it,” Anok whispered sharply. “Please refrain from such behavior. I fear someone might see.”

“And what if they do?”

“Your Highness……!”

Anok raised his voice slightly in rebuke and turned to face him. Only then did their eyes finally meet. Catching Anok’s glare, Yeo Jae-won merely lifted the right corner of his mouth into a faint smirk.

“Looking at you like this, I find it perfectly fine.”

“I said it is not fine. Let go at once.”

At the openly reproachful tone, Yeo Jae-won seemed to deliberate, his gaze shifting thoughtfully for a moment before he offered a slight nod and released his grip. Anok immediately gathered his wide sleeves and stared straight ahead, refusing to grant the prince a single glance.

The reception room inside the Dacheong Pavilion was spacious and clean. Yeo Song had been escorted to the adjacent chamber with his governess, leaving the Prince of Myeong, Anok, and the Princess of Jeongan sitting around a polished wood table.

Light, polite greetings were exchanged over cups of clear white tea. It was immediately evident from the prince’s voice just how comfortable he felt in the presence of his sister-in-law. His tone was vastly softer and warmer than it had ever been when paying his formal respects at the imperial palace.

“Are you adjusting well to the capital?” the Princess of Jeongan asked kindly. “I should have visited the estate sooner, but my duties kept me occupied, and my greetings are terribly late.”

Feeling his throat grow constantly dry from the lingering tension, Anok quickly emptied his teacup. The Princess of Jeongan personally refilled it, her expression warm.

Is she treating me with such kindness because this is still before everything fell apart between us? Anok glanced at the gentle face of the princess and offered a polite nod.

“I am still lacking in many areas, but I am doing my best to learn.”

“And does my brother-in-law treat you well?”

The Princess of Jeongan had practically raised Yeo Jae-won like her own younger brother during his youth. Though she was his sister-in-law, their bond was closer to that of blood siblings. With teasing, mischievous eyes, she pointed a finger toward the prince.

“Yes, he treats me well.”

Just as Yeo Jae-won was about to take a sip of his tea, his eyes darted sideways to look at Anok, and a low, quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

The Princess of Jeongan looked between the two of them, a faint, knowing smile gracing her features. “Do you intend to never look at the gift you brought me?”

Setting down his teacup without making a sound—a long-standing habit of his—Yeo Jae-won’s throat worked as he swallowed, smoothly joining the conversation to steer it toward the offering.

The delicacies prepared for Yeo Song had already been sent to the next room; what remained was the gift intended specifically for the princess. After much deliberation regarding what would best suit a woman born to a highly prestigious noble family of renowned scholars, Anok had selected a rare poetry and painting album by the celebrated master Yang Mo-yeon.

“I have seen a few poetry collections by Master Yang, but this is my very first time encountering his integrated poetry and painting album,” the princess said, her eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation. “You have gifted me a truly precious treasure.”

“I am merely relieved it pleases you.”

The Princess of Jeongan was a woman who vastly preferred rare, ancient texts over dazzling jewels or delicate silk ornaments. In his past life, Anok had brought only flashy, expensive accessories, receiving nothing more than polite, formal thanks. Seeing her genuinely delighted this time brought a wave of profound relief to his chest.

“The Jeongan Palace is famous for its exceptional scenery,” Yeo Jae-won suggested casually, noticing Anok’s eased posture. “Why don’t you take a walk and look around?”

Among all the royal estates within the capital, the Jeongan Palace was unmatched in its elegant, tranquil charm. But Anok knew the scenery was a mere pretext. Yeo Jae-won undoubtedly had private matters to discuss with his sister-in-law—most likely regarding the late Crown Prince.

Anok had previously shared his suspicions with the prince regarding Chief Physician Kim Myeong-hyeon of the Imperial Medical Bureau. This private meeting was likely intended to investigate that exact lead.

Possessing absolutely no desire to become entangled in the lethal political struggles of the capital, Anok nodded readily and rose from his seat.

“Court Lady Yeom will guide you. Take good care of the Grand Consort,” the Princess of Jeongan instructed, smoothly assigning her most trusted aide to his side. Although Anok had brought Eunuch Im and Court Lady Yoo with him, they were unfamiliar with the palace grounds, so he expressed his gratitude and followed Court Lady Yeom outside.

“Eh? Uncle-in-law! Where are you going?”

They had barely walked a short distance from the pavilion when they unexpectedly crossed paths with Yeo Song. Stiffening instantly, Anok stared down at the boy. Though the child was larger than the infant Anok had lost, he was still remarkably small and fragile. Anok dropped to one knee to match his height.

“Where is the Prince of Jinyang heading in such a hurry?”

“I saw a beautiful blue butterfly earlier…… but where did it go?”

“Did you chase it all the way out here?”

“Yes!”

A young, innocent child possessed no capacity for deceit. Hearing the completely honest answer, Anok found himself smiling gently.

“Where are you going, Uncle-in-law? Are you leaving already? What about Uncle?”

“I merely came out to admire the gardens. His Highness the Prince of Myeong is still inside conversing with the princess.”

“Then come with me! I will show you my absolute favorite spot.”

Listening to the child’s clear, bright voice and an eloquence that far exceeded his tender years, Anok smiled and nodded. Though the memory of his own lost child made his heart ache with a hollow, endless grief, Anok was fundamentally defenseless against the innocence of the young.

Looking closely at Yeo Song, a painful thought drifted through his mind: Had my own child lived, perhaps he would have grown to be just this big……

“Wow, look at this! The color of these hydrangeas is exactly like the butterfly wings I saw earlier! Ah, there it is……!”

The location Yeo Song confidently led him to was the primary garden of the palace. As they walked along the stone path winding around the edge of a massive artificial pond, Yeo Song spotted the blue butterfly once more and bolted forward, only to trip over his own feet and crash heavily onto the ground.

Anok, who had been deliberately walking a step or two behind to let the child run freely, saw him fall with a dull thud and rushed forward instantly.

“Are you all right?”

His voice, which had been perfectly calm and measured only moments ago, cracked with sudden, sharp panic. He quickly pulled Yeo Song up, examining the scraped skin on the boy’s knee and palm, his brow furrowed in deep anxiety.

“Does it hurt terribly?”

Whether from the sudden shock of the fall or the sting of the scrapes, Yeo Song’s face puckered, and he burst into pitiful tears. Anok soothed him with frantic, gentle murmurs, lifting the crying child into his arms and holding him tightly against his chest.

“Summon a physician immediately and guide us to a suitable room for treatment,” Anok ordered sharply.

“Yes, Grand Consort. Right this way.”

Though visibly bewildered by the intense paleness of Anok’s face, Court Lady Yeom quickly led the way to a nearby garden pavilion.

Even though his rational mind knew it was merely a minor abrasion, Anok’s heart hammered violently against his ribs the moment the child started crying. The sound dragged his consciousness back to the final moments of his own child, who had wept hysterically from a raging fever until falling into the eternal sleep of exhaustion.

He knew perfectly well that his own prince had been a mere infant incapable of speech, while Yeo Song was a toddler capable of running around—they were entirely different children—yet his pulse raced with an uncontrollable alarm.

At worst, it was a minor scrape from a childhood stumble. Granted, because it was an injury sustained by the Prince of Jinyang, the sole remaining bloodline of the deceased Crown Prince, nothing could be treated carelessly. But realistically, it was just a scratch.

Yet, the Grand Consort was reacting with an almost agonizing sensitivity. Court Lady Yeom watched the scene unfold in quiet astonishment. Anyone witnessing the display would have easily mistaken the Prince of Jinyang for Anok’s own flesh and blood.

“Is the wound deep?” Anok asked anxiously.

“Fortunately, it is not,” the elderly physician replied smoothly. “I shall grind some soothing herbs and apply the paste. If kept clean for a few days, new skin will grow quickly. There is no need for such immense worry, Grand Consort.”

To a physician of his years, such minor mishaps were an inevitable part of a child growing up. Royalty was no exception; even a royal descendant surrounded by a fortress of court attendants at every step could not escape a scraped knee.

“Uncle-in-law, I am perfectly fine now,” Yeo Song said, offering a bright, beaming smile as if he had not been sobbing hysterically moments prior. His eyes crinkled beautifully, a trait that looked entirely different from his mother’s features. Rather, they heavily resembled his uncle’s. Perhaps his smiling face was a mirror image of the late Crown Prince.

The leg the physician had treated was now wrapped tightly in white bandages. Anok’s heart twinged at the sight, and he struggled to smooth out the gloomy, tense lines of his face.

“Song!”

Yeo Song, who had been attempting to comfort his worried uncle-in-law with a maturity that defied his playful nature, recognized the sharp voice calling his name and sprang up instantly. The child jumped down from the raised chair, acting as though his bandaged leg caused him absolutely no discomfort.

“Mother!”

“Prince of Jinyang,” the Princess of Jeongan said severely as she stepped into the pavilion. “What did I strictly tell you? Did I not command you to never run around recklessly and act so rashly?”

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