Chapter 87: Sleepless Beneath the Bright Moon

“Your Majesty, please fill your servant’s cup as well.”

The Emperor, seemingly delighted, filled the Consort’s cup with a smirk.

With Haeryeong and the Consort seated side by side, he looked back and forth between them and lifted his cup.

“With flowers blooming radiantly on both sides, it seems spring has come to my side without me having to look afar.”

“What does the Empress think?”

“Your Majesty’s words are entirely correct.”

As Haeryeong echoed his sentiment, the atmosphere flowed smoothly, as if by magic.

Haeryeong responded intermittently to the Emperor’s constant chatter, wishing for this gods-damned banquet to end.

The music played by the court musicians and the sounds of laughter echoing from all directions were boisterous, yet they sounded strangely distant.

Even more peculiar was the Emperor’s voice as he spoke beside him.

His murmuring voice, much like the one he used with the Consort, sounded exceptionally sweet today.

Like Gamhongju, which could intoxicate a person if drunk without caution.

The banquet continued for a considerable time.

They listened to about five pieces played on the zither by the Consort, and by the time Haeryeong had shared drinks with the officials who came to pay their respects, the sun had already set.

Feeling as though he could endure no longer, Haeryeong intended to rise first.

In fact, he had been pleading with the Emperor to let him return early, only to be ignored several times.

He wondered how he could return to his quarters to rest his weary and intoxicated body.

The Emperor happened to be turning his head to whisper with the Consort.

Haeryeong stared at the back of his head, trying to rack his alcohol-muddled brain.

Since the man always demanded a price whenever a request was made, perhaps he should do the same this time.

Steadying his swaying head with effort, Haeryeong waited for the Emperor to turn back to him.

After a moment, having finished his conversation with the Consort, the Emperor’s gaze shifted toward him.

Without further deliberation, Haeryeong cupped the man’s cheeks and pulled him close.

Peck.

After pressing a brief kiss to his lips, Haeryeong exhaled, the scent of alcohol vibrating in the air.

He felt as though he might become re-intoxicated by his own breath.

“Your servant shall return to my quarters now.”

Haeryeong stood up, intending to return regardless of what the Emperor might say.

The Emperor watched the slightly staggering Haeryeong with narrowed eyes and clicked his tongue.

“You are drunk again.”

Haeryeong was focusing all his energy on bending his knees carefully and didn’t even hear the man’s voice properly.

Though his vision was a bit unsteady, it seemed he had managed to offer his respects reasonably well.

Satisfied, Haeryeong offered a silly grin and bid his farewell.

“Then, please enjoy your time.”

As Haeryeong retreated, the waiting Iryeon approached.

“Are you returning first, Your Highness?”

Haeryeong nodded to her with a light smile, noticing her worried expression.

Supported by Iryeon, Haeryeong descended from the pavilion and took a long breath as he looked up.

The scent of alcohol wafted strongly with every exhale through his nose.

“I seem to be getting drunk quite often lately.”

He had to walk back, yet his body kept swaying.

Lacking the courage to take a step, he looked up to see a moon growing rounder, peeking out from between the branches.

As he blinked slowly, the moon grew increasingly blurred.

He wondered how he would make it back to his quarters in this state.

While he lingered for a moment, worrying about a safe return, a eunuch attending the Emperor approached and bowed.

“His Majesty has instructed that you return by palanquin.”

“Tell the Emperor that I am especially grateful for his consideration today.”

Normally, he would have declined, but it felt as though the ground were about to rise up against him.

He walked slowly, as even reaching the palanquin was a struggle.

Like a child learning to walk, he stumbled several times despite being flanked by Iryeon and Jeong-a.

It felt as though he had only just closed his eyes after boarding the palanquin, but he was already in the courtyard of the Empress’s Palace.

Haeryeong, barely rising at Iryeon’s call, walked with his eyes half-closed.

The moment he entered the bedroom, he collapsed straight onto the bed.

“Goodness! Your Highness, you must change your clothes…”

Haeryeong waved a hand behind him with his head buried in the bedding.

“Leave it be.”

“Then let us at least remove your crown.”

“Just leave it. It is not the first time, after all.”

“But…”

Haeryeong waved his hand dismissively again and barely managed to pull his legs up from the floor.

As he curled onto the bed, his consciousness faded instantly.

Not a single thought remained.

Only a single phrase flickered through his muddled mind: ‘I should have done this on our first night.’

Instead of waiting all night for the Emperor to come, he should have emptied the prepared wine table alone and simply gone to sleep.

He should not have stayed up all night foolishly waiting for a man who would never come.

****

He was startled awake by a touch brushing through his hair.

It seemed to be the middle of the night; when he opened his eyes, a pitch-black darkness shielded everything from view.

His consciousness was much clearer than before, as the alcohol had partially worn off.

Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, dark shadows began to form.

Only then could he faintly see the moonlight streaming through the window.

Haeryeong slowly sat up, his hand tracing the hair that slid over his shoulder.

He wondered if Iryeon had removed his ornaments while he slept.

The phoenix crown and hairpins were gone.

Somehow, his clothes had also been removed, for Haeryeong found himself lying in his white sleeping tunic, tucked neatly beneath a quilt.

The bed canopy had also been lowered.

Without even needing to look around, he knew he was lying in the bed alone.

The Emperor, who had vowed to visit every night, was nowhere to be seen from the very first day.

He wondered if the man had entered the Consort’s quarters while intoxicated.

Haeryeong pulled his knees to his chest and embraced them.

It shouldn’t have mattered whether the Emperor came or not, yet for some reason, the empty bed felt vast and hollow today.

Leaning his face against his raised knees beneath the quilt, he let out a tiny sigh.

It was a terrifying thing, was it not? To grow accustomed to a person.

He feared his own heart for finding the space beneath the quilt cold in the absence of the man’s heat, despite how much he disliked and hated him.

‘What a fool.’

Haeryeong closed his eyes with a self-mocking laugh.

What use was there in longing for his warmth?

What would have changed even if the man were sleeping beside him?

Was it because he was sobering up? Or simply because he had just woken?

His heart sank for no reason, and sigh after sigh escaped him.

Gangcheon watched in silence as the Empress, having suddenly woken up, let out several sighs.

He had arrived late after the banquet ended to find the Empress asleep, still clad in his wedding robes and ornaments.

Seeing the sleeping Empress had brought back sudden memories of their first night, making it impossible for him to leave.

Even after carefully unbinding his hair, removing the wedding robes, and laying him beneath the quilt, Gangcheon’s feet refused to move.

However, after having heard the man’s blatant rejection, he was not in the mood to shamelessly climb into the same bed.

Thus, he had spent the night awake in a chair with a view of the bed.

The oblivious Empress seemed unaware that anyone else was in the room.

Feeling it was a bit late to announce his presence, he watched quietly as the Empress—who had been motionless for a long time—whispered to himself in a voice that seemed ready to fade away.

“Only now do you look upon the wedding robes I wore at seventeen, yet you cannot even offer a single word to call me beautiful.”

“What a heartless husband you are.”

Only then did Gangcheon recall that he had only told the Empress the robes suited him well.

Furthermore, he tried to count how many times he had called the Consort beautiful at the banquet, but gave up once the number exceeded ten fingers.

‘How did things end up like this?’

In truth, his intent had been to show a display of harmony with the Empress to provoke the Consort and the Minister of Rites.

But as always, nothing went as planned when that man was involved.

While Gangcheon grumbled to himself, a long, hollow sigh drifted from inside the canopied bed.

“Love has fallen like leaves, yet out of pity, one cannot sweep them away; the moon is bright, and in sorrow, I cannot sleep.”

‘Love has fallen like leaves but cannot be swept… the moon is bright and sorrow prevents sleep.’

Gangcheon tried to identify the emotion steeped in Haeryeong’s voice.

He wondered if the feeling he sensed was truly what he thought, given it was so different from the voice that had pleaded for him never to visit again.

Because the man’s demeanor changed every time they met, he could not be certain which side was real.

The lonely figure felt real, yet so did the shy one, and the one who rejected him or smiled provocatively at the banquet also seemed genuine.

The Empress was far more difficult to read than the Consort.

As the saying goes, one must cross the water to know if it is deep or shallow.

Having ignored him for years and only now spending a couple of months together, it was only natural that he did not know the man’s depths.

Gangcheon pondered what to do with this Empress.

While his stubbornness was irritating, this display of melancholy was piteous, leaving his heart in a state of confusion.

While he agonized alone, the sound of steady breathing eventually came from the bed.

Gangcheon could not help but let out a bitter laugh.

Rising from his chair and pulling back the canopy, he found Haeryeong asleep in the same position, clutching his knees.

“Where did the person go who said the bright moon kept him from sleep?”

No answer came to the question he whispered, fearing he might wake him.

The person who should have answered merely continued to smell of alcohol, offering only the sound of his breath in response.

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