Min-jun sighed, sitting back against the wall as his hand absentmindedly brushed away the stray strands of curly hair from the King’s forehead. He couldn’t reach the drawer now, but he supposed it didn’t matter. For a moment, he’d worried that perhaps the King was hiding something important, but with the King sleeping so soundly on his lap, Min-jun decided to quiet his fears. Mistrusting the King seemed like a foolish thing to do. Mother would want there to be a conflict between the two of them. And if there was anything Min-jun had learned by now, it was that he should be doing everything Mother would hate him for.
His thumb brushed over the King’s lips. Like loving you in the same way you love me. Without hatred or vengeance blurring my vision. Mother would be furious if that happened. But could Min-jun truly love the King in that way? Or was their relationship already too tainted? Would the deaths of Min-jun’s parents always hang over them like a dark cloud?
Min-jun sighed, as the King continued to sleep so peacefully on his lap. You could kill him now. Old habits died hard, he supposed, and as the thought echoed in his mind, his hands drew away from the King’s ethereal face. Sometimes, Min-jun felt scared of that part of himself. It reminded him of Mother. The same cold, cruel feeling that he saw on Mother’s face filled his chest and the thoughts would not quiet. Yes, it was frightening how iron her grip on him was.
The servants entered to take the dishes away. Among them was the court lady who always greeted him in the mornings. As she knelt to pick one of the tables up, her sleeve hiked up her arm, and Min-jun caught sight of angry red marks along her hands and forearm. Min-jun knew the sight all too well.
“You,” he ordered. “Stay. Let one of the other servants take that out.”
She did so without any comment, her lips pursed. They were left alone, just him, the court lady, and the sleeping King on his lap. Perhaps it was not a position a King should want to be seen in, but somehow, Min-jun doubted the King would make a fuss about it.
“What is your name?”
“My name is Hae Soo-yun, Your Majesty,” she said.
“We have the same surname,” he noted.
“That is true, Your Highness.”
It was clear that small talk would not garner many conversations from the girl, so Min-jun stopped trying to build his way up to the question at hand.
“Who left those marks on you?”
Her hands clasped together. “I scratched myself.”
“Lying does not befit a court lady to the King of Saro,” Min-jun said, noting the flash of a smirk on the King’s lips. “Those are the marks of a whipping cane.”
“How would you know?” She trailed off, staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. She lifted a hand to her mouth. “So it’s true?”
“My brothel mother was a strict woman,” Min-jun replied, calmly, though his mind had taken to reminding him of all the times he’d been on the other side of that cane, beaten until he could not stand it any longer. “So, who was the one who hurt you?”
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.
“You will only cause more trouble by getting involved, Your Highness.”
“P tjnf j offilcu atja sbeg rtjgq abcuef lr ktja rajgafv atja agbeyif, atbeut P atlcx kf mjc ybat jugff la kbeiv yf j rtjwf ab tjnf la mea bea bo sbe lc remt j wjccfg,” Zlc-pec rjlv. “Pa lr ubbv ab mjerf agbeyif rbwfalwfr. P klii qgbafma sbe ogbw atf ojiibea.”
“I don’t know if you can.”
“I am the King’s favored consort. Believe me when I say there is no one in this Palace that he cannot protect.”
Her eyebrows strewn together in apprehension. “You have no shame for taking advantage of the King in such a manner?”
“He wishes to give me everything. Why should I be ashamed of that? Or do you believe that I am unworthy of it?”
“I . . .” Oh. It would appear that she did. “I cannot say.”
“You may stay outside in the corridor. If they ask you to leave, say that I asked for you to remain here for the time being. When the King wakes up, I will have a talk with the person who did this to you.”
Hae Soo-yun bowed once more and then left the room, appearing quite uncertain. Min-jun sighed. Even the King couldn’t keep his eyes on everyone at once, he supposed, for he couldn’t imagine the King would allow his servants to be abused in such a manner.
“Did you hear that, Your Majesty?” Min-jun asked, leaning back on his palms. “Your servants are getting out of hand.”
The King’s lips quirked up again. “And it appears my beloved consort is feeling meddlesome again.”
“Always,” Min-jun said. The King smiled, reaching a hand up, fingers catching in Min-jun’s hair. For a moment, Min-jun could not help but admire the King’s fine features. Someone could’ve told Min-jun that they’d been carved by the gods, and he might’ve believed. Yes, he would’ve believed them without a doubt.
“Do you want me to see to it?” the King offered.
Min-jun shook his head. Enough admiring. “No, I can handle this much. I’ve dealt with people worse than this in the kisaeng houses.”
The King’s expressions shifted, somber now. He intertwines their fingers where they meet on the cushion. “They hurt you.”
Do not look at me with such pity. Min-jun could not stand it.
“Tell me their names.” It sounded more like a command than a request, as the King sat up to be on eye level with him. He was insistent. He wanted the blood of the men and women who’d caused all this. That would never heal the scars on Min-jun’s body, though. Digging up the past would be more painful than moving on at this point.
“We’ve all been hurt, Your Majesty. It does not bode well to linger on the past.”
With a pained expression, the King dipped his head. Silly man. Min-jun tucked a finger under the King’s chin and forced the King to meet his gaze. For a moment, they only stared at each other. It all felt surreal for a moment. That Min-jun had managed to get this far at all. That he was not only alive but also healthy and surrounded by luxury and loved by the only man who could put an end to this war between him and Mother. As luck would have it. Min-jun had always had rotten luck, but perhaps things were looking up for him and Su-jin, after all these years.
The King caressed Min-jun’s cheek, his violet eyes shining with tender love. Their foreheads touched, and the King breathed a sigh. “I will never let anyone hurt you again.”
And Min-jun believed him. For the first time since his parents passed away, he believed someone would be there to catch him when he fell.
. . .
Soo-yun was there when Min-jun left the King’s chambers, her head bowed. The other court ladies and eunuchs stared at her, some outright glaring, others merely curious.
“Show me who it was,” Min-jun said, matter-of-factly, as he strolled out of the room without sparing them so much as a glance. When she appeared hesitant, he raised an eyebrow and added, “I hope you understand that you’re in no position to deny an order from a Royal Consort.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Soo-yun said. She turned her head to look at one of the other court ladies. An older woman with a stern expression stared back at him, unflinching. He could see the long years of working within the Palace walls enclosed in her eyes. This Palace had ruined her too many times. How many generations of Kings had she served already?
This might prove difficult. People like her tended to be set in their ways.
“Both of you follow me outside,” Min-jun said, leading the way down the corridor. The sky was overcast and so the shadows filled the hall as their footsteps echoed. Once they were outdoors, Min-jun came to a stop at the grand plum blossom tree and turned on his heel. “What is your name?”
The elder court lady bowed. “Head Lady Baek, Your Highness.”
“How long have you been working for the King?”
“Since the beginning of his reign.”
“And before that?”
“I’ve worked here all my life.”
The idea of a young King, still a crown prince, running through these halls to meet his father left Min-jun more curious than he’d like to admit. The King knew so much about Min-jun, and yet Min-jun had never heard the King utter a word of his childhood. “So I suppose you saw the King grow up as well.”
The elder court lady paused. “For the first few years of his life before his mother, Her Majesty the Queen, took him away from the Palace.”
They’d run away from the Palace. What could’ve forced a Queen, a future Queen Mother, to run away from the Palace? She could’ve lived a life of luxury. Perhaps she might’ve still lived here in the Palace of the Dowager Queen. Had the King gotten along with her? Would she have gotten along with Min-jun? Ah, she would’ve been his mother-in-law, no? Min-jun couldn’t imagine any mother wanting her son to fall in love with a man like Min-jun.
Min-jun peered up at the sky where a hazy sun shone behind the clouds. I suppose we’re both orphans, after all.
“Your Highness?” the elder court lady asked. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Min-jun replied. “I shall not mince my words then. Corporal punishment might not be forbidden in these Palace walls, but I believe you have acted too harshly in response to this girl’s slight.”
Soo-yun clasped her hands in front of her tightly, her lips a thin line. The elder court lady had no change in her expression. He’d liken her more to a soldier rather than a maid.
Personally, Min-jun found corporal punishment to be rather tasteless. At best, it would be counter-productive. At worst, it might turn into a slippery slope, a slap on the wrist turning to a beating, and then perhaps even something as gruesome as a straw-mat beating. The ones carrying out the punishment would forget, and the ones subjected to it would be left with wounds that never quite closed.
“As I am the King’s favored Consort, I will exercise my power over the Inner Palace. Do not punish people of your own accord. It is foolish to put such a responsibility in the hands of one person. Even the King has his ministers to advise him.” Min-jun figured it was high time to show some interest in his role, now that he might be stuck with it for a long while. “From now on, all punishments shall go through me prior to being carried out. Do you understand?”
The elder court lady bowed her head again. “How can this lowly servant burden His Majesty and Your Highness with such trivial things.”
Trivial? Min-jun’s hand clutched his wrist as if the skin had been struck a hundred times, but it was just a memory now. Trivial for you, perhaps. He glanced to Soo-yun. But she will never forget the sting of your whip. Even if she tells herself now that it does not matter, that it is the way things are done. She’ll tell herself this is her lot in life when that couldn’t be further than the truth.
His nails dug into his skin, leaving bruised marks along his arm. Somehow, he could not let go. The elderly court lady’s face reminded him of his old brothel mother now, cold and stern but ever so polite to those in power. “I did not ask what you think is trivial or not. You shall do as I say or it will be you facing the consequences –”
“My love.” The King suddenly embraced him from behind, and Min-jun, in his surprise, loosened his grip on his arm. The King pressed his lips to the top of Min-jun’s forehead.
“I thought you’d gone to your office!” Min-jun chided. That sort of tone was unbefitting of a Royal Consort, and he could see the elderly court lady’s eyes widen in shock.
“I could not go without bidding you goodbye,” the King proclaimed, circling around to stand in front of Min-jun instead. Min-jun narrowed his eyes at him. The King might not shy away from showing his affection for Min-jun, but there was something different here. It almost seemed like the King was putting on an act. As if he were trying to distract Min-jun. “You’re not trying to scare my court ladies, now, are you?”
Subtly, the King lifted Min-jun’s sleeve, revealing the nail marks and scratches on his arm. Ah, he was worried. How he managed to notice such a small thing was beyond Min-jun. The King’s senses were unnaturally sharp.
The King let Min-jun draw his hand away from him, and glanced back at the two court ladies behind him.
“You are dismissed. I trust you will heed Consort Hui’s words, Head Lady Baek.” And there were few people left in this world who would dare talk back to the King, so they gave a few words of understanding and hurried away. In the back of Min-jun’s mind, something like annoyance gnawed at him. Why must he always intervene?
A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please leave a comment down below. I have decided to take a brief hiatus until October, so I can focus on some of my other writing projects as well as school. I shall return for Spooky Season.
Good luck at schooool !!
thank you!
Cheol needs resist interfering sometimes, it undermines Min Jun’s authority. Flip side Cheol pretend napping on Min Jun’s lap so sweet
Thank you for chapter (and not making it a cliffhanger) hope you have a productive hiatus
he really does. mj needs cheol to trust that he can handle things on his own. i’m glad you approve of cheol napping on min-jun’s lap. even a king needs his rest. the hiatus has really helped me get inspired. i have so many ideas planned for cheol and min-jun!
I’m kind of curious what Head Baek considers a whipping offense. Min-jun is assuming it’s not worth a beating, and he’s probably right. If it was a criminal offense, there’s no way they would let her work directly with the king and his consort (we hope).
Thanks for this. Seeya next month!
the servant got whipped for talking back. head baek is very strict because she knows how difficult palace life is. a whipping offense for her could very well be a death sentence for someone else with more authority. min-jun is too soft-hearted in most people’s eyes, but they need someone like that to bring a little light into the palace walls.
thank you for commenting! i hope you enjoy the next chapter!