Had they set the explosion themselves? Cheol sped past the windows and the smoke that billowed from them. Hye-jin would probably take this as more evidence of his slow descent into madness. Still, in that moment, he gave her no mind. From the moment he heard the explosion sound, he’d had only one thought racing through his head again and again. Min-jun.
Sun came into view first, surrounded by rubble from the explosion – Stones, pebbles, bits of burnt, splintered wood. Blood seeped out of an open wound on his shoulder. He sat huddled on the ground, hunched over as if to protect something precious. As Cheol’s eyes adjusted to the light of the explosion’s dying fire, he could begin to make out Min-jun’s silhouette, though Sun was turned away from him: The outline of Min-jun’s legs and slippered feet. Min-jun’s dark hair had left its neat topknot, the ends dragging across the singed grass.
“What happened?” Cheol demanded. Sun stood, Min-jun secure in his arms. He watched Cheol with an odd sort of suspicion, and instead of bringing Min-jun to him as Cheol had expected, he stood his ground.
Cheol stepped forward and reached for Min-jun. “Give him to me.”
Sun stepped back. Tch. What use was there in being polite? Cheol could snatch Min-jun away at any moment.
“Calm down first,” Sun said.
“Calm down,” Cheol repeated, voice edging on a laugh. “I’ll calm down when you give him to me.”
“Cheol,” Hye-jin said from behind him. “Look around.”
He did so, and something like regret filled him. The trees had become mangled, weeds tangling up the ground, waiting to attack. He’d lost control. It was becoming more frequent. Cheol’s hands shook as he willed his mind to calm itself long enough for his Gift to settle. Then, he held out his arms. Sun watched him, a hint of suspicion still in his golden eyes, but stepped forward slowly, too slowly. Cheol took Min-jun into his arms and sank to the ground. His thumb dragged across Min-jun’s cheek, wiping away a gray streak of ash that had marred his face. Warm. Alive.
His hand moved down to feel his pulse at his neck. Stable. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“He fainted when the explosion happened,” Sun said. Only now did Cheol process the gash across Sun’s arm. A sharp sense of guilt overtook him. He would’ve hurt Sun if it had meant getting Min-jun back.
“I’m sorry,” Cheol told him. “I don’t know what came over me.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Min-jun rested his head on Cheol’s chest, nuzzling into it. Who would’ve thought the greatest danger to his reign would be none other than his own consort. How pathetic, he was. He’d run all the way here without regard for his safety, or the mission. Desperate just to see Min-jun safe and sound. How am I to let you walk into the jaws of danger at this rate? All this time, he’d been planning on eventually cornering his courtiers into assassinating Min-jun. Was it even a possibility at this point?
“They blew themselves up,” Hye-jin said, not caring for his deliberation. “They’d known we were coming.”
“Ruthless,” Sun commented.
“Is it?” Cheol asked. “They already know that we’d tortured their companions into giving us answers. They learned about our arrival too late to do anything other than self-destruct. Whoever is behind this is not afraid to cut losses.”
Sun frowned, brow furrowed in confusion. “And who is that?”
“Isn’t it obvious,” Hye-jin said. “It’s the Northern Kingdom’s Emperor.”
Indeed. The Northern Kingdom’s Emperor must’ve set the precedent. Perhaps there were a handful of people in each of these safehouses, whose one job was to set it on fire should it come to that.
Much to think about. Much to consider. And all he could focus on was the feeling of Min-jun limp in his arms. Cheol wanted nothing more than to get Min-jun to safety.
“We should check inside,” Hye-jin said. “Sun can stay outside with Min-jun. They’re both injured, after all.”
Reluctantly, Cheol handed Min-jun back over to Sun. He doubted they’d find much in the ruins of the manor, other than burnt bodies, the stench of which polluted the air. Still, it would be unwise to leave the manor unchecked, especially in the parts that had sustained less damage.
. . .
Min-jun awoke the next day with a splitting headache, a ringing in his ears, and a splitting pain in his ankle. He groaned, turning onto his side as if that would help alleviate his symptoms. Instead, he rolled right into the arms of a familiar man. His mind cleared as he breathed in the foresty scent. Fresh, earthy, and smelling slightly of . . . gunpowder? Min-jun frowned, struggling to peel open his eyes. He looked up, straining his neck.
The King looked fast asleep, his features relaxed, though his body seemed as tense as ever. Tch, he really should learn to loosen up a bit. His sleep couldn’t be very pleasant if he looked ready to pounce on his enemy at any moment.
As comfortable as his bed might be, Min-jun had work to do. Min-jun looked past the King to the window, through which rays of late morning sunlight flooded into the room, warming it. Late!
Min-jun shot up in bed, holding back his desire to call out in shock. The abrupt movement was enough to shake the King awake.
“My love?”
Another groan passed through Min-jun’s lips, as his head spun painfully. He clutched a hand to his forehead and pulled at his hair, clawed at his face. A knuckle grazed his cheek.
“I’m late,” Min-jun murmured, trying his best to gather his senses.
“Don’t give me that nonsense,” the King said, pulling him back down to lay on the mattress. “You twisted your ankle. There’s no need for you to go anywhere for the next few days. Unless you doubt I can get the scholars under control?”
“Twisted my ankle?” Min-jun asked. Now that he thought about it, he felt as if his body was covered in fresh bruises. That, along with his aching head, made him quite suspicious. “What happened last night?”
“You wanted to play detective, and against my better judgment, I let you.” The King’s face suggested it was quite an ordeal. Good. If Min-jun could do nothing else, he might as well make the King’s life a little more miserable.
Min-jun snorted, quite pleased with himself. “Sounds like I caused you trouble.”
“You caused yourself the most trouble out of all of us.” The King brought him closer. “We were tracking down parts of a smuggling ring. You were caught in the crossfire.”
Min-jun’s memories began to return to him bit by bit. Going out for drinks with Ha-jun, nearly being kissed in some dirty alleyway, running into the King, chasing down the smugglers . . .
But one memory proved more unsettling than all the rest.
“Hajun-a?”
Nausea welled up inside of him, causing him to clasp a hand over his mouth. He’d mistaken the King for Ha-jun!
Mistaken?
The King had not acted like a man mistaken for another. The curve of his lips, the shape of his eyes, the vibrant violet color of his irises. The King’s curly black hair, so much like Ha-jun’s, but tidier, glossier. He could deny the resemblance was uncanny.
No! No, no, no!
Min-jun refused to see it. He turned away from the King, willing his heart to stop pounding. But now he couldn’t help but see the resemblance even in their actions. Ha-jun’s easy-going nature, the way the two of them seemed to become a part of whatever wild landscape they were in, how they could stand perfectly still when they were thinking hard about something. No wonder the King had broken his walls down so easily. No wonder they got along so well in those moments where Min-jun forgot about the King’s sins.
The King was his first love. Cheol was Ha-jun.
“My love?” The King reached out to him, arms outstretched. Min-jun pushed him away, frantic. No, he could not let the King know he remembered. The King would only use it to manipulate Min-jun further.
How had he not noticed this before? Oh, he knew why he hadn’t. The real question was what part of him had thought it was a good idea to put two and two together? To compromise his mission in such a way? Idiot! Fool!
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below!
Aaaaaah 😭😭
Here’s a tissue for your tears. I have no remorse
So up until now, they both still plan to kill each other?? Although, based on my experience, getting married and sleeping in the same bed will help motivate them both to follow through on it 😅
🤔 I’m starting to think they’re going about this the wrong way. cheol isn’t actively planning to kill min-jun, but he’s willing to risk it. or at least, he had been willing to risk it. 😅
Thanks for commenting!
Oh ho. Can they both still be in denial? Something’s about to give…
We cannot underestimate Cheol and Min-jun’s ability to be in denial despite all evidence.
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