Min-jun walked out of the prison with the sense of defeat heavy on his heart. He had gotten more questions than answers from his conversation with the Minister. He’d thought if Mother was dealt with, the rest would follow, and he’d be able to sleep soundly knowing Su-jin and Mai were both safe. But who was this master the Minister had spoken of? What had he forced Min-jun’s parents to do?
A shiver passed through him and just as quickly as the cold washed over, the King wrapped a cloak around Min-jun’s shoulders. He took Min-jun’s hand in his.
“You don’t have to look any further into this if it causes you pain, my love,” the King said. “I can deal with this matter.”
“No,” Min-jun replied, trying to keep his voice stable. “I have to see this through. If this ‘master’ was the one who had sent my parents to their deaths, then I cannot let him go unpunished.” He’d kill them both. Mother and this mysterious master, and then he’d save Su-jin and Mai, and then . . . then he’d be able to rest. Preferably in the King’s waiting arms. Life in the Palace wouldn’t be so terrible with Su-jin and Mai here, and the King had agreed to let him help keep the Kingdom safe. He might even be able to continue investigating. This was their last hurdle to go through. He’d kill anyone who stood in his way . . .
“Min-jun.” The King brought their steps to a halt and Min-jun turned around to face him. “Vengeance will only cloud your judgment. You cannot step onto this battlefield with only anger to serve you.”
“I’ll kill them,” Min-jun said. “Will you stand in my way?”
The King shook his head. He raised one hand to caress Min-jun’s cheek, and despite himself, Min-jun felt a calmness pass over him. “Of course not. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Min-jun.”
Min-jun frowned but let the King embrace him all the same.
“I’ll be fine,” Min-jun murmured, cheek pressed against the King’s chest. The steady beat of the King’s heart served to relax him even more. “As long as you’re there with me.”
“Sometimes I fear that you overestimate my abilities,” the King whispered. Min-jun glanced up at him. Perhaps he was placing too much of a burden on his King. Being a Consort was dangerous enough on its own, but Min-jun’s personality hardly ever permitted them a day’s rest. Something in him desired the constant challenge of investigations and puzzles, while the King wanted nothing more than to keep him safe inside the Palace walls.
“I’m sorry,” Min-jun spoke. He didn’t much enjoy apologizing but he’d permit it this once. They were partners, after all. “I’m causing you trouble again.”
Surprisingly, the King let out a small, quiet chuckle. One that almost made Min-jun’s heart flutter. “You’re always causing me trouble, my love. I’d say by now I should be used to it.” He pushed Min-jun away, gently, and lifted Min-jun’s chin with a finger. “I’ll announce our departure, but you must promise me to approach this matter with caution. Agreed?”
Min-jun nodded, a bit too emphatically, and the King’s hands settled on his shoulders.
“You’re trembling, my love. You should return to your chambers.”
“Come with me, then.”
The King raised an eyebrow. “Is that an order?”
“It’s an invitation,” Min-jun said, tilting his head to the side. “Are you saying you’d rather not spend a few more moments with me?”
Slowly, a smile spread across the King’s handsome features. “Now, how can I look the other way in the face of such an opportunity?”
. . .
The King stayed by his side until they reached the doors to Min-jun’s bed chambers. As much as they would’ve liked to spend the rest of the day together, the King had official matters to attend to, and as the wise man says, all good things must come in moderation. They had already indulged enough.
Still, when Min-jun leaned into the King’s kiss, he couldn’t help but feel unsatiated. He had so much more to discuss. Theories, battle plans, and the like.
“I’ll see you soon,” the King promised, as they parted.
Min-jun nodded, slipping off the cloak around his shoulders and wrapping it around the King again. “You’re not invincible either, my King. You should take better care of yourself as well.”
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.
Ktf Blcu cbvvfv, yfobgf ifjclcu lc ab xlrr Zlc-pec’r obgftfjv jujlc, tlr ilqr kjgw jujlcra Zlc-pec’r rxlc. Qtfc atfs olcjiis qjgafv obg ubbv, j mtlii rkfqa bnfg Zlc-pec, jr lo atf Blcu tjv ajxfc jii atf kjgwat lc atf gbbw klat tlw.
Zlc-pec rlutfv, gfaegclcu ab tlr recila dejgafgr. Lf gjc j tjcv atgbeut tlr tjlg, tlr wlcv qjgrlcu atgbeut atf Zlclrafg’r kbgvr. Lf kbcvfgfv ktja ijs bc atf qjat jtfjv. Yg gjatfg, ktb.
. . .
Two days passed since the King’s announcement. They were to leave in six days. The Queen, of course, had jumped at the opportunity to thaw her relationship with the King in the guise of bidding him farewell before his journey. The King was reluctant to agree, and so, Min-jun had to pay him a visit the morning of the second day.
“My love,” the King greeted him, as his servants fluttered about with robes. Min-jun dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
“My King,” Min-jun replied, picking up the white undershirt from the tray it had been left on by the servants. Like all of the King’s garments, the material was of the highest quality silk, with gold embroidery trailing up the cuffs and the hem of his collar.
“What has prompted you to visit me so early in the morning?” the King asked, as Min-jun slipped the shirt sleeves onto his arms. Min-jun circled around so they could face one another, his hands flattening the collar of the King’s shirt. The King watched him, his head tilted to the side, as was his habit whenever he found something curious.
“I missed you, that’s all,” Min-jun replied, his tone gentle as the summer breeze.
“That is never all,” the King said, pecking him on the cheek. “Ask away.”
Min-jun pouted. The King always saw through his charm. It was quite vexing. “I want you to visit the Queen tonight.”
The King smiled so sweetly that for a moment Min-jun thought he might agree. He had been too optimistic. “But I don’t want to.”
Min-jun turned away on his heel, crossing his arms. “Do you dislike her so much?”
“She hurt you,” the King said as if it were so simple. As if made perfect sense to shun anyone who harmed Min-jun, even if it went against what would we best for the country. A dangerous mentality.
“And what of your plotting against her family? Don’t you still need her for that?” Min-jun asked, brushing his hair over his shoulder. He’d worn it down today, as he was prone to do when in a hurry. The King was always the first to wake up in all of Saro, after all. He was a difficult man to pin down without an appointment. “The more you push her away, the more you’ll drive her to reconsider her alliances.”
The King tied the undershirt with ease. Clearly, he didn’t need any help getting dressed. Min-jun remained standing with his arms crossed, his grimace deepening as the King continued to speak. “The Queen is in love with me. Even if I push her away, she will not betray me. I wouldn’t have let her enter the Palace if I wasn’t certain of her loyalty.”
“What a cruel King, you are,” Min-jun murmured finally. “Playing with a woman’s feelings.”
Not even a hint of remorse seemed to torment the King as Min-jun grabbed the next garment. Tch. Fine. Let him be stubborn about it all. The King raised his arms as Min-jun slipped on a fleece, cream-colored jacket. Min-jun smoothed his hands down the King’s back, smoothing out any folds or wrinkles in the fabric. It wouldn’t do to let the King leave with wrinkled robes.
“Why do you want us to get along so much?” the King asked, pulling Min-jun by the wrist so that they faced one another again. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“Why would I try to force you apart? Your heart is entirely mine. There’s nothing to fear in your relationship with the Queen, other than the fact that your indifference to her might cause you trouble in the future.” Min-jun stepped away and turned to take the crimson dragon robe in his hands.
“I’ve spoiled you, after all,” the King jested, leaning against the wall with an easy smile.
Min-jun ran his hands down the fabric of the dragon robe. How childish. Most people wouldn’t want their wives to fight, but here the King was, wishing Min-jun would be jealous.
“Do you want me to doubt your love, my King?” Min-jun asked, his voice quiet, somber. He remained seated, clutching the dragon robes to his chest. “Do you want me to feel uneasy?”
“That’s not what I meant.” The King sat down next to Min-jun and brought him closer. Min-jun let himself be pulled into the King’s arms, pouting all the while. He played with the ribbon of the King’s jacket as the King continued to try to placate him. “Of course, I never want you to feel as if my love is lacking.”
“Truly?” Min-jun asked.
“Yes. Truly.”
Min-jun pushed the dragon robe into the King’s chest, dropping his coquettish attitude like a mask. “Then, you should do as I say and talk to the Queen again.”
The King frowned and placed his chin on Min-jun’s shoulder. His arms remained wrapped around Min-jun’s waist, preventing him from escaping. Min-jun did all he could to avoid that disappointed gaze.
“Stop. Stop that,” he ordered, putting a hand over the King’s sad violet eyes. “It’s just for tea. It’s not like you have to sleep with her. Aren’t you overreacting?”
“I suppose,” the King murmured, a thoughtful expression on his face. Slowly, he placed Min-jun on the floor, pinning him there, his hands around Min-jun’s thin wrists. “Still, I don’t like the idea of giving into the requests of someone who had the nerve to raise their hand against you. It’ll only make her more brazen. What if she takes this as a slap on the wrist –”
“But it’s not her request you’re honoring,” Min-jun whispered, guiding the King to meet his lips in a slow, languid kiss. “It’s mine. Remind her of that, if you have to.” Remind her of how different we are.
“My love,” the King whispered, leaning in so close that Min-jun had to lay his head back down on the floor. Looks like you’ve woken the sleeping dragon once more, Min-jun. His heartbeat sped up as the King placed a kiss on his cheek, then his nose, peppering his face with kisses. A thumb parted his lips. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too bold yourself?”
“Your Majesty, it is time for your morning study!” the voice of the head eunuch announced. Min-jun turned onto his stomach to get a better look at the door. On the paper screen, the head eunuch’s shadow bowed in the flicker of the candlelight. The King made no move to get up.
“Delay it,” the King said.
“Your Majesty?” the eunuch squeaked. Min-jun felt similarly, mouthing his protests to the King. At this rate, the rumors of the King forsaking his duties in favor of bedding his consort wouldn’t be that far off!
“Do you not want to?” the King mouthed back. Min-jun could only glare back. They both knew the answer to that question.
“I have some matters to attend to this morning. Tell the scholars they may return to the Academy for now.”
“But – but, Your Majesty,” the eunuch cried. “You mustn’t do this.”
Indeed, he mustn’t. Min-jun had work to attend himself this morning, and if he were to let the King have his way . . . well, he’d be delayed as well.
“Cheol-ah,” Min-jun said, sitting up. “It’s not healthy to indulge too much.”
The King laughed, tucking a lock of hair behind Min-jun’s ear. “My love, aren’t you the one who likes indulging a little too much?”
“Well, I –” It was true, Min-jun realized. Most of their past encounters had been initiated by him. “I guess we both . . . like to indulge.” He hated how weak his voice sounded toward the end of that sentence, almost cracking under the pressure. In times like these, it felt as if all his experience with men meant nothing. He melted like a puddle at the King’s feet. Mother’s teachings were even more useless than I’d thought.
“But,” the King said, standing. “I will not push the matter.”
“Tonight,” Min-jun said, suddenly. He met the King’s gaze, as he pressed his lips to his knuckles. “If you’ll have me.”
Shaking his head, the King brushed Min-jun’s cheeks, which were undoubtedly flushed red. “My love. What am I to do with you?”
Min-jun took the King’s hand in his, pressing it against the curve of his cheek. “I think you know.”
“You drive me absolutely mad sometimes, you know.”
Min-jun smiled, sweetly, just as the King had. With one hand, he brought the King down by the collar, as if for a kiss. “I know.”
The expression on the King’s face almost broke Min-jun then and there. No one had ever looked at him like that. “I love you.” And Min-jun knew that too. He knew that all too well. It was in those violet eyes.
“Then show me,” Min-jun whispered. He put a finger to the King’s lips. “Tonight.”
“Your Majesty,” the eunuch cried again. The corners of the King’s lips turned up, and Min-jun couldn’t help but smile back. If only this could last.
“I’ll see you tonight,” the King said, but not before he kissed Min-jun one last time, leaving him breathless. Once the doors closed, he let himself fall back on the floor, the warmth in his body just on the edge of feeling uncomfortable.
“Gods,” Min-jun said, his breaths shallow, his cheeks burning. “Where’d he learn to do that?”
. . .
Min-jun paused in his pacing to look out the window. The moon hung high, the crescent of silver glowing in the night sky. Frost had begun to settle outside, lacing the leaves and branches and the rain-soaked path.
What’s taking him so long?
The King was usually quite punctual. Well, he was punctual when it came to Min-jun anyway.
“Tch.” Min-jun had even gone to the trouble of preparing those honey cakes he liked so much. So much planning for nothing. He’d give the King an earful tomorrow for sure. Bastard. He could’ve at least sent a note if he wasn’t going to show up. It was such a beautiful night, too.
Nothing he could do about it now though. He might as well get some rest.
Min-jun nodded to himself, although his insides still coiled uneasily. Even as he ordered the maids to draw him a bath, he worried. What had happened? Had the King decided to stay the night, after all? But he’d been so torn up about it the first time.
No. No, it couldn’t be that.
Could it? Had the King decided the Queen was worthy of his love after all? Had she done something to woo him? What if she convinced him to get rid of Min-jun? He couldn’t have that. He’d have to pull the King back in somehow.
No, that was ridiculous. The King’s heart was his alone. Nothing the Queen did could change that.
Min-jun continued to battle himself as he walked to the baths, going through all the possible scenarios that could’ve befallen his King tonight. Did something come up in court? No, he would’ve hurt about that by now.
“Your Highness!” a freckled court lady had burst into the hallway. A dark green uniform? All his maids wore blue. The only servants who wore green were . . .
“Did something happen to the Queen?” Yes, he hadn’t considered this scenario yet. What if the King had gotten angry with the Queen again? They weren’t on the best of terms, after all. But could the King’s reaction justify a Queen’s court lady prostrating herself before him? “Please, stand –”
“The King has been poisoned!”
A/N: 
the heeeeck
Ugh – should have never trusted that woman’s tea! I knew it was a bad idea to listen to Min-jun.
After reading it again, it occurs to me that they probably know Min-jun will come running if they tell him something happened to Cheol – whether it really did or not 🥺