Cheol could hardly breathe by the time the doors closed behind him and he was safely back in his quarters. It felt as if his throat had closed up, his heart pounding in his chest. He urged himself to breathe, but all he took were shallow, rapid breaths. His mind was racing with memories. Memories he hardly thought of anymore. They flitted through his mind so quickly he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t reel them in. His powers felt erratic within him. He made it to his desk, his hands reaching for something to hold onto.
“Mother,” he said, quietly. He could see her so vividly, on a cliff’s edge, her feet just inches from leading her to her death. And then his mind shifted the images, the memories contorting until he was no longer imagining his past, but some version of the future. Min-jun dead in his arms, his lips pale, his skin cold beneath his fingers. It felt like a premonition. No. No, please.
“You sound like your father,” Min-jun’s voice said, full of derision. Cheol knew he was twisting his words. Min-jun couldn’t have known what had happened, what Cheol’s father had done to them both. It wasn’t his fault. He was simply frustrated, saying things in the heat of the moment. He’d come to his senses eventually. But still, the words cut deep.
And what if he was right? What if they were all right? What if his love for Min-jun would drive him mad, and the country would be led to ruin because of it? All he’d worked for would be lost.
A cruel voice spoke from somewhere in the back of his mind. It’s Min-jun’s fault, though. If he’d just stayed put, none of this would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have been stabbed, Cheol wouldn’t have had to punish Sun, and he wouldn’t have had to confine Min-jun to his quarters.
But indefinite confinement seemed too harsh. It was like clipping the wings of a bird.
But he’d had his choice to leave. Cheol had given him so many chances to live his life as he wished. Yes. It was all his fault. He should know by now that the life of a Consort meant he had to prioritize himself above others.
But Min-jun couldn’t help standing against justice and marching forward, despite the danger he might be putting himself in. Cheol knew that. It was what he loved about Min-jun. So how could he force him to change?
He’ll get himself killed if you don’t stop him.
“Cheol?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Ji-won stood over him, eyebrows raised. “You okay?”
“Ji-won,” Cheol sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Just a moment,” Ji-won said. “Didn’t mean to break off your train of thought. I wanted to let you know that Sun has been recovering well. He’ll be able to return to his post by the end of next week.”
“Good,” Cheol said. “Min-jun will be glad to see him again.”
Ji-won squinted at him, and Cheol returned his suspicious look.
“What?” Cheol asked, finally.
“Nothing,” Ji-won sang, jovial once more. “How did the little consort take the news anyway?”
Cheol ran over the events in his head again. “Not well.”
“Ooh,” Ji-won said. “That bad, was it?” He came to sit beside Cheol, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eyes and a fan in his hand. “You know what we do whenever one of us is angry at the other?”
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.
Cheol did not ask him to go on, but he did not ask for him to stop either. Ji-won and Sun had been together since before Cheol had taken the throne. He’d never seen them be anything but enamored with each other.
Al-kbc ifjcfv lc, rwlgxlcu. “Tbe kbb tlw.”
“Qbb tlw?” Jtfbi jrxfv, vbeyaoeiis. Zlc-pec kjrc’a fjrlis kbbfv.
“Tbe ufa tlw atf atlcur tf ilxfr, qijc gbwjcalm vlccfgr, jcv atfc olcjiis, wjxfeq rfz,” Al-kbc rjlv, ufraeglcu klat tlr jgwr. “Rbatlcu mifjgr atf jlg yfaafg atjc atja. Dfrlvfr, Jbcrbga Lel tjr jikjsr ilxfv sbe obg sbeg ybvs jcskjs.”
Cheol stared at him for a moment. Surely, he was jesting. Alas, he was not.
“Ji-won?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Get out.”
“Yes, boss.”
Of all the ridiculous, nonsensical . . . well, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try and woo Min-jun. Or apologize. They’d both said things they hadn’t meant. It would not do to just leave things as they were now. But really, Min-jun didn’t love him only for his body. That was ridiculous.
. . .
Meanwhile, Min-jun’s horror and despair had quickly turned to anger, as he practiced throwing knives in his room. It had been a week since the King had confined him, and he was just about ready to go on a rampage. He couldn’t even try escaping, for fear that the King would turn his anger on the rest of the servants next. He had managed to get a letter sent to Sun. The reply was short and to the point, much like Sun. I am doing well. Please take care of your health, Your Highness. Well, Min-jun wasn’t doing well at all. How could a man who had received fifty lashes be doing well? The King probably asked him to say that to give Min-jun peace of mind.
He threw another knife. He had only practiced knife-throwing for a moment when he was put under Mother’s tutelage, and frankly, he wasn’t very good at it. But somehow, with the King’s face in mind, the target wasn’t so difficult to reach.
“Damned bastard locking me up like a criminal,” Min-jun murmured under his breath, reaching for another knife.
“Is he allowed to do that indoors?” one of the servants asked.
“I’m just glad he’s back to his old self,” another replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped. The servants looked at him, surprised. Min-jun immediately felt guilt trickle in. “Sorry. I’m just a little on edge.”
“We know,” they all replied.
“Tch.” Min-jun grabbed another knife from the deck and aimed for the target, continuing his complaining silently this time. And why’d he have to punish Sun so severely anyway? Didn’t he just let Hye-jin walk away unscathed even though she poisoned me? Isn’t that worse than what Sun did? And I still feel the effects of the poison! The wound will scar over and I’ll never feel it again, but I still get hypothermic shocks from that damned snow peony.
A voice laced with humor spoke to him. “Your aim is terrible, Your Highness.”
“They’re all on the target . . .” Min-jun trailed off, as his brain registered the voice as awfully familiar. He turned around to see Sun, tall and stately, his gold eyes flashing with amusement. Min-jun couldn’t help himself from running toward him and throwing his arms around his neck. After a moment of hesitation, Sun lifted him off the ground, laughing lightly.
“Are you feeling alright?” Min-jun asked. “They said they gave you fifty lashes! I can’t believe the King would do such a thing. I was the one who had started all this, after all.”
“I’m doing well, Your Highness,” said Sun. “And it was twenty lashes, not fifty. Surely you haven’t been listening to the court maids’ gossip?”
“Twenty, fifty! What matters is the fact that he’d do such a thing at all. You’re one of his closest friends!” Min-jun said. “What sort of tyrant lashes out like that?”
“Are you very upset with him?” Sun said, glancing at the targets hanging on the wall, knives sticking out of them, weighing them down.
“I am,” Min-jun said. “I’d like to stick one of those knives in him.”
The servants gasped, but Sun merely laughed. “I’ve missed Your Highness’ sense of humor.”
Min-jun nodded. “I’m glad someone appreciates it.”
“But surely you don’t plan to be angry at him forever,” Sun said.
“Don’t make excuses,” Min-jun said, pointing to him. “You were bedridden for days!”
Sun smiled, albeit it had a somber note to it. “Your Highness . . . I was the one who asked His Majesty to punish me.”
Min-jun’s jaw dropped, his arms limp at his sides, the knife dangling loosely in his hand. “Wh-what, why would you do such a thing?”
“To remind me that the next time Your Highness asks me to do something foolish, I should ignore your protests and bring you back to the Palace.” What a ridiculous reason! Putting himself in so much pain just to punish himself for something Min-jun had forced him into.
“Tch, it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Min-jun murmured, gripping the knife in his hand more tightly. “You’re all overreacting.”
A knife flew past him, landing cleanly in the middle of the target. Min-jun grimaced.
“Show-off.”
“It’s all in the wrist, Your Highness,” said Sun. “And your posture is too stiff. You must relax –”
“You sound like the King,” Min-jun replied. He walked over to the targets and began to take out each sword one after the other.
“Speaking of which, I heard the King has not visited you since the affair,” Sun said, taking the knives from him and putting them back in their sheaths. “I’m surprised. I would’ve thought he’d want to keep an eye on you after such an ordeal.”
“I said some things that I shouldn’t have,” Min-jun admitted. “He’s probably still upset about it.” He fiddled with one of the knives, biting his lip. “Probably doesn’t even want to see me.”
“That . . . would be very unlike him,” said Sun. “What did you say?”
Min-jun shrugged. “I brought up his father.”
“Oh.”
That sounded ominous.
“Is it that bad?” Min-jun asked.
“Quite bad, yes.”
Min-jun sheathed the last knife.
“Well, I wouldn’t have said it if I had known,” Min-jun said. Or maybe he would’ve, had he known it would cut so deep. Maybe all he’d wanted at that moment was to hurt him as badly as he possibly could.
Min-jun sighed, defeated. “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Sun did not answer him. Perhaps he thought it would be inappropriate to advise the King’s Consort on such matters. The look on his face was answer enough, however.
“Fine. I’ll go see him tonight,” Min-jun said, reluctant as ever to apologize.
“But you’re under confinement.”
“Then I’ll just have to talk him down from punishing anyone else when I see him.” If he could speak to him face to face, the King would surely relent.
“How about we send a letter instead?” Sun said, brush and paper already in hand.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Min-jun stopped himself from going on. Fun that had ended with Sun beaten and Min-jun confined. He grimaced, rolled his eyes, heaved a sigh, and then took the brush and paper from Sun, turning on his heel. “Perhaps a letter will do.”
A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please leave a comment down below.
THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE AUTHOR!! IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER 🙋♀️
wondering how much of what sun said is the truth
Thank you for all of your hard work, I really look forward to your next update🤍
I’m glad Min-jun has his shadow back, at least. It actually has the feel of someone who realized he had gotten caught up by the enthusiasm and has been reminded his real job is to protect, not to indulge. His best friend was nearly widowed, after all. Doesn’t Min-jun realize dying would leave the queen to console his lover? Yuck, nobody wants that 😄