Chapter 68: Special Side Story 7: A Mirror of the Soul

“Then… what are your thoughts?”

Jaran asked, her gaze fixed on the distant water. It was a question posed to the highest-ranking consort below the Empress, but also a question for the only man who held the Emperor’s heart. Hwaun’s eyes grew deep with thought.

The court’s request to bring in more consorts was logically sound. The Inner Court was, by standard measure, nearly empty. The issue of succession was a looming shadow that needed addressing. Yet, beneath the ministers’ frantic petitions lay more selfish desires.

Privately, it was greed. No matter how much the Emperor declared his undying devotion to Yeon Hwaun, few believed such a heart could remain unchanged forever. Such was the fickle nature of imperial favor. The ministers dreamed that their own beautiful, brilliant daughters could displace a male consort and secure their families’ future wealth and power.

Paradoxically, the very affection Ihan showered on Hwaun only fueled their ambition. Seeing the Emperor—who had once been so wary of the harem—care for someone so intensely that he handed them everything made it easier for the ministers to imagine their own children in that position.

From a more public standpoint, it was a check against the Yeon clan. Even the loyal ministers who sought no personal glory worried about the concentration of power. They couldn’t help but fear that Yeon Ju-won, whose influence had skyrocketed alongside the Noble Consort, might eventually harbor dangerous ambitions.

Naturally, the Emperor had refused. Rewards could be given in many other forms. But this time, the ministers did not back down, leveraging the high morale of the victorious officials and the public’s celebratory mood.

In this delicate situation, the Empress asked the one man who held the Emperor’s ear: What do you think?

“As a mere consort, how can I comment on matters of state?” Hwaun finally spoke after a long pause. “However, since Your Highness asks… I believe the Inner Court might benefit from being a bit more lively.”

The voice of the man suggesting the Emperor take other lovers was impossibly calm.

“Of course, His Majesty’s intention is paramount. But I am content with the Inner Court exactly as it is now.”

“Indeed. His Majesty’s will is the will of Heaven,” Jaran nodded.

In the distance, they could see Suk-bi scolding Jeong-bin for splashing water. It was a sight that hardly fit the traditional image of solemn imperial consorts. Yet, Jaran loved this scene. She hoped that even if new faces arrived, this atmosphere would never change.

If necessary, the Emperor would take in the new consorts. Contrary to what the ministers thought, Ihan’s reluctance wasn’t just for Hwaun’s sake—it was out of a strange mercy for the women themselves. At first, he feared hurting Hwaun, but now his reasons had shifted. He didn’t want to drag women who could live happy, normal lives into the palace only to leave them neglected in a cold room for the rest of their lives.

What threat would a consort be if she never spent a single night with the Emperor? They wouldn’t dare touch a hair on the Empress’s or the Noble Consort’s heads. Hwaun knew better than anyone that the Emperor’s heart was a fortress they could never breach.

“Jeong-bin might even like having a younger sister-figure around,” Hwaun added with a light smile.

Jaran let out a soft laugh. “I only hope she doesn’t get jealous at the thought of sharing her ‘Brother’s’ affection with a newcomer.”

“Ah…”

Hwaun blinked, finding the Empress’s prediction surprisingly plausible. Jaran took a deep breath of the lush, summer air. She didn’t care if a few more consorts entered. Even if one tried to stir up trouble, the Emperor still viewed her as his closest confidante, and the Noble Consort, backed by the Emperor’s favor, served her with unwavering loyalty. The Inner Court remained exactly as the young Empress had once dreamed it would be.

“Shall the two of us have a quiet lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes, Empress Mother.”

As Jaran looked out at the greenery, she could almost hear the Emperor’s phantom voice grumbling in the distance about being left out.

“On-ah.”

Hwaun looked dotingly at the arrogant cat that didn’t even bother to look up from its cushion despite being called by the Noble Consort.

“Seoseo says that you and I look alike in some ways.”

He reached out to scratch the cat’s forehead, and On began to purr contentedly.

“Now that I think about it, perhaps we do… what do you think?”

Hwaun spoke as if the animal could truly understand him. “Sometimes, when you are being cute and needy, you actually remind me of His Majesty…”

If Ajin or Seoseo heard this, they would protest that the cat was nothing like the Emperor, but it was Hwaun’s honest thought. When On acted particularly spoiled, Hwaun saw a glimpse of the man who constantly craved his love and begged for just a little more affection. Ihan would surely glare if he knew he was being compared to a kitten, but it was the truth.

Hwaun’s gaze grew wistful. His conversation with the Empress returned to him. Whether Ihan took new consorts or not truly didn’t bother him. The Emperor knew Hwaun’s heart well enough to know he wouldn’t be shaken.

No, Hwaun’s current melancholy stemmed from a deeper, more fundamental absence.

“If there were a child who truly looked like His Majesty, how beautiful they would be.”

Finally, the long-held guilt he could never voice took shape and spilled out. It was a thought that had been tangled in his heart ever since he began raising On like a child.

It wasn’t the old guilt—the fear that he was preventing the Emperor from having an heir. Ihan had long ago washed that away, assuring Hwaun that his mere existence was the Emperor’s greatest joy. Hwaun had buried any guilt Ihan had forbidden him to feel.

Rather, this was a purely selfish, loving regret. It wasn’t about the succession or the stability of the court; it was the simple, private desire to hold a child that looked like his lover and himself.

Suddenly, Hwaun startled, his shoulders trembling at a realization. When he imagined a child resembling Ihan and himself, the face he pictured for himself was that of ‘Yeon Hwaun.’

It was a strange feeling. Though it wasn’t the face he was born with, he now naturally thought of ‘Yeon Hwaun’ as his own. The man who had spent nights in agony, feeling like his very existence was a transgression, was gone. He no longer felt like a stranger when looking in the mirror.

He hadn’t forgotten the original ‘Yeon Hwaun’ who had given him this body and life, but the nightmares of the man crying for his body back had ceased long ago. It was as if the original owner had finally granted him peace.

Hwaun couldn’t be sure why. Was it because he had grown selfish? Was it the natural numbing effect of time? Or had the soul of the original Yeon Hwaun truly found rest?

One thing was certain: this life was a gift granted by the Emperor, and for Hwaun’s sake, Ihan bore the weight of their shared lie. If the Emperor was giving his entire heart so fiercely, Hwaun could not insult that love by wallowing in useless guilt.

Meow~

As Hwaun stroked the cat’s back, On stretched and let out a cute whimper. The tension in Hwaun’s face dissolved into a soft smile. He didn’t need to cling to the things Ihan had already let go of. He only needed to stay by his lover’s side, giving his heart just as Ihan desired. As long as he had Seong Ihan, nothing else mattered.

At that moment, a voice cut through the quiet night air outside the bedchamber.

“His Imperial Majesty arrives!”

It was the Emperor, who had claimed he was too busy with state affairs to visit tonight.