They entered the Throne Hall with little fanfare and not much of a crowd. The King sat on the Phoenix Throne, his posture straightening when Gyeo-wool appeared in the doorway with Min-jun walking behind him. The tall man with gold eyes pushed him onto his knees in front of the King.
“Your Majesty,” said the tall man. “We’ve brought you the suspect.”
“Good,” the King said. “I do hope you have good reason to suspect him.”
“It was His Highness’s deduction,” the man said, not a hint of hesitation as he threw Min-jun to the dogs. “Though, going by how he struggled, he’s a criminal of some sort.”
“Well.” The King stood, his hands intertwining as he walked down the steps. “I should hope that your deduction is right, Consort Hui, or else there might yet be more victims to bloody your hands with.”
Min-jun didn’t back down at the threat. “It’s considered bad form to blame the death on anyone other than the actual killer, your Majesty. Lowers morale.”
“Perhaps it will motivate you to actually accept my help next time.”
They’ve spent a few weeks together and they’re already bickering. Yet another way in which Min-jun didn’t suit this job. The way they spoke and approached one another suggested closeness, familiarity, even if it was hostile.
“What is your name?” the King asked.
A trick? Perhaps someone in their group had a gift that relied on names? He lied, “Geun Soo.”
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.
The King raised an eyebrow, skeptical. He must be adept at detecting lies. That could prove troublesome.
“Alright then, Geun Soo,” said the King, enunciating the syllables in his name as if to prove their falseness. “As eager as I am to interrogate you here, I cannot do so. You will be interrogated by the Royal Investigation Bureau and then be put on trial. If you are not guilty, then we will release you. If you are, then you’ll be punished according to the laws of this country. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your Majesty.” It would be rude not to go to his own trial, but that was not on Mother’s agenda for him.
“Lock him up.” The gold-eyed man dragged him to his feet and pulled him back toward the door. When Min-jun turned to follow them, the King grabbed onto his arm. “Not you, Min-jun. You stay.”
With one last furtive glance between them, the doors shut behind Gyeo-wool. Last he saw of them, the King had removed his hand from Min-jun’s arm, drawing closer to him instead, like a leopard circling its prey. Had the King’s suspicions already led him to the truth of their relationship?
. . .
“How do you know he’s the one?” the King asked. Min-jun had noticed the exhaustion on his face before, but up close it was even more evident. Dark circles, half-closed eyes, a slump to his shoulders. He looked so worn.
That had nothing to do with Min-jun, though. He turned away, walking in the direction of the door. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.”
“You know, evading my questions only makes you seem more suspicious.”
“You put too much faith in expecting me to care about how suspicious I am to you,” Min-jun told him, letting his head fall back. The ridges of the ceiling looked like puzzle pieces from his position, all interlocking to create a beautiful harmony of color above him. What had the King done to deserve to live in such a gorgeous place? “You know the worst of me. And I of you. I don’t think anything we do or say now can impress the other.”
“Do you think we’re so shallow?”
The King’s expression then was hard to place. Something sad in his violet eyes, something tired and vulnerable, and yet undeniably fond in the small smile on his lips.
“I feel as if I’ve barely begun to know you,” the King continued, “and I doubt I’ll ever be finished.”
Why was he spouting such nonsense now? Was he trying to seduce him again?
“Let me guess.” Min-jun took a few steps back to lean against one of the red pillars. “You’ll spend the rest of your life trying to figure me out?”
The King grinned, lowering his head as if to keep from laughing and then lifting it to meet his eyes. He’d closed in on him again, their faces inches apart. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”
Men used to say that to him in the brothel. Knowing about all of him. Some of them meant it, most only said it for the show of it all. The King probably fell into the latter category. “I have no interest in being dissected, I’m afraid, emotionally or otherwise. I have even less interest in learning more about you.” He made his escape by sidestepping the King. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to get some rest. I recommend you get some too. You look like you might collapse any second.”
“Are you concerned for my health, my love?”
“No, and please refrain from calling me your love. It makes me uneasy.”
“What would you like me to call you then?”
“Nothing. Just pretend I’m nothing to you.” That would be preferable to whatever this was. Min-jun could hardly stand this act of his. Where was the coldness, the cruelty? Why had he wound up with a King with such a soft-hearted persona?
“You’re out of luck,” the King said. “I’m a terrible actor.”
“Then, call me Consort Hui and be done with it.”
The King pouted. “But that’s so distant.”
He was doing this to mock him. Min-jun was certain of that now.
“I can’t believe I’m arguing over something so trivial,” he muttered, massaging his temples. “Have a good night, your Majesty.”
“Going to Jangmi Villa?” the King said, following him outside. “I’ll go with you.”
“What for?” he asked. Over the weeks he’d spent with the King, Min-jun had quickly realized that the man had little interest in sex, and so that often left his intentions even murkier than they might’ve been. No one else knew of this, of course. The other consorts, barring Yun-seo and Seo-hyun, burned with rage at his monopoly of the King’s precious time. Going by their vicious glares during the festival, they thought he was some devious seducer puppeteering the King’s desires. He wished they were right. Sex would’ve been easier to deal with compared to the King’s incessant need to bond with him.
“I just want to spend some time with you.”
Tonight? Min-jun had too much work to do, but it’s not like he could deny him. Could he?
“No.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that,” the King said, walking down the steps. “Come along, Min-jun. The longer we stay here, the longer we’ll have to wait to get that much-needed rest you were talking about.”
I wanted a rest from you.
I love the king and Min-jun’s banter. Such fun to read! 😁
I’m glad you like it ❤