Min-jun awakened just as the stitching was finishing up. He’d clutched Cheol’s hand all the while, his body betraying him.
“That should do it,” Myeong-suk sighed, washing his hands off in a basin of water. “Please do not engage in any activities that might put a strain on the area.” He tossed a pointed glare at Cheol. “You might feel some pain in the wound, which will naturally fade as it heals. Any questions?”
“Can I get a stronger painkiller?”
“No.”
Oh, they’ve had this conversation before. Cheol could tell by the look of exasperation on the doctor’s face, his mouth pulled down in a scowl.
“But the one you gave me isn’t working anymore.”
“A higher dosage will only damage your body further. The one you have is already too much.”
Knowing this was a losing battle, Min-jun fixed his doe eyes on Cheol instead. Not pleading, oh no. Min-jun did not plead with others. This was a challenge. Are you really letting a mere Doctor have more authority than you?
Cheol smiled. He was far too old to fall for such petty tricks. “Listen to the Doctor, love.”
“Easy for you to say,” Min-jun muttered, lying back down.
Cheol brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. “Does it hurt that much?”
“I’ve considered chopping it off a few times.”
His hand paused in its gentle strokes. “Ah.”
“Figured I’d probably bleed out before someone could get me.” He stared up at the ceiling and then nodded slightly as if overcome by a stellar idea. “I suppose I could’ve done it in the clinic.” Min-jun clicked his tongue. “No, that wouldn’t work. They’d stop me before then.”
“Stop talking like you’re actually considering it,” Myeong-suk said. Then, realizing that Cheol was there and likely did not take well to the mistreatment of his consorts, he coughed lightly and loosened his grip on that authoritative tone. “Anyhow, I’m afraid I can’t help you, Your Highness. The pain comes and goes, does it not? Take advantage of those moments.”
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.
“What sort of advice is that? Hey! Don’t just walk away! Myeong-suk! Come back! You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you help make life as comfortable for your patients as possible?” Alas, it was too late. The doctor had run away, and the two of them were left once more. Cheol preferred this sort of privacy. They could be candid like this.
“How many times have you asked for a higher dosage, exactly?” Cheol asked.
Min-jun raised a brow. “That’s none of your concern.”
“No, but I’m curious.”
A shrug, nonchalant and noncommittal. “A few. You should know by now that Your Majesty is always my last resort. And, seeing how I ended up today, that should come as no surprise to you.”
Indeed. Cheol had planned for a brilliant resolution to this little feud between Sun-woo and Min-jun. Min-jun, incapable of reigning in that savior complex of his, would dash in to save Sun-woo, and the Head Shaman would be so riddled with guilt that he’d lift the curse. Needless to say, things had gone awry, and his consort had ended up injured instead. Well done, Cheol. That’ll get him on your side. He really was an idiot.
Still, considering Sun-woo had yet to attack Min-jun once more, perhaps something had improved in their relationship.
Cheol stood up with a sigh. As if he didn’t have enough work already. “I’m going to speak to Sun for a while. I’ll have your maids tend to you.”
A hum, and then: “Tell him it’s not his fault.”
“What?”
“He’s probably beating himself up about not protecting me back then. I saw it on his face when he brought me in. It wasn’t his fault. I was reckless when I pushed that stupid shaman out of the way.” Grumpy as ever, Min-jun rolled over onto his side, wrapping the blanket around himself. “Honestly, what was I thinking? Saving that bastard. He’s the reason I’m in this mess.”
Cheol stored that piece of information for later.
Sun was sitting outside the temple, underneath a tree right outside of Min-jun’s room. If he turned his head, he would be able to see inside the little room where Min-jun laid scheming. Without a second thought, Cheol took his place next to the guard. Sun rose to his feet, bowing deeply in greeting.
“Sit.” Cheol gestured to the spot next to him. It never took much to convince Sun to follow his orders anymore. The guard sat down next to him, his whole expression pulled down into a guilty grimace. “It’s been too long since we were able to speak like this.”
“I must apologize, Your Majesty!” Sun blurted out.
Cheol smiled, his hand coming up to grip Sun’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“His Highness got shot!”
“His Highness,” Cheol repeated, “got shot due to his own miscalculations. I understand why you’re feeling guilt-ridden. But really Sun, not even you can stop a bullet in its tracks. You’re Gifted, that doesn’t make you a miracle worker.”
“I should’ve shielded him.”
Always so eager to protect. “I did not assign you to be his personal guard just so you could die in his stead.” Sun drew his lips into a thin line, his mind denying every word Cheol said. He wasn’t getting through to him. Fine. Cheol drew his sword out from its sheath. “Sun, let’s spar.”
“Here, Your Majesty?”
“Of course. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to train, hasn’t it? How about it? If you win, I’ll admit it was your fault that my lovely Consort was shot.” Cheol gestured toward Sun. “If you lose, you have to admit it was his own fault for jumping in the way of the damn bullet in the first place.”
“Those terms sound familiar?” Sun said, as a small smile etched its way onto his face. “Are you going to cheat your way out of this one too?”
Cheol scoffed, “Still a sore loser, I see.”
“Your stupid plants twisted my ankle. I couldn’t walk for two weeks.”
Ah, he had done that. Granted, he hadn’t planned on twisting Sun’s ankle, but it did end up being a convenient way to keep him from running away. That was long ago, though. Back when Cheol was desperate to get Sun on his side. Even more so he was desperate to get his hands on that gift of his: The ability to deflect attacks by telekinetically redirecting their course! Cheol had to get his hands on it.
The two of them took their positions, standing a few feet apart, their swords drawn. Sun had stripped his torso down, and Cheol would’ve followed suit, but felt a King should perhaps save face in such an instance.
Sun charged forward first, and Cheol met him halfway. Their swords clashed, the metal scraping in their ears. They pulled back, waiting for the next move to block. Cheol’s eyes caught on the slightest of movements in Sun’s body. Left, stab. He brought his sword up to deflect the strike and forced Sun’s weapon away.
When it came to sheer strength and power, Sun won every time. He was all muscle and height, and while Cheol was by no means out of shape, even he felt small next to him. Cheol was faster though, and when it came to strategy, few could go head to head with him.
After a few minutes of their swords clashing and their bodies dancing around one another, Cheol summoned a vine to wrap around his foot. Sun slashed at it, but another grew back in its place.
“Is a measly plant giving you so much trouble?” Cheol asked. He took advantage of the distraction and aimed a strike at Sun’s side. Sun blocked it, gritting his teeth in annoyance.
“Cheater.”
“You forced my hand,” Cheol replied. Another bundle of vines, grabbing at his legs. Sun did well trying to slash at the vines and blocking Cheol’s strikes, but even he could only keep playing this game for so long. Really, he could just use his own gift to block Cheol’s swings. He worried too much about hurting Cheol on accident. That was exactly why he always lost.
Sun tripped over a well-placed root, falling to the ground with a loud thump. Cheol leveled the sword to his throat.
“I suppose you have something to say?” Cheol said, feeling just as smug as he probably looked.
“Rematch?”
Cheol hacked out a laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Such underhanded tactics,” Sun said from his place on the ground. “Your Majesty has no appreciation for the honor of a swordfight.”
“Indeed.” Cheol sheathed his sword once more. “Yet, you still fought with me.”
“I pity all our enemies whenever I do so. They do not have a choice.” Sun stood. A smile had taken his face, that guilty grimace having been long forgotten. Good.
“They had a choice not to anger me.” Speaking of which, he’d have to ask Hye-jin to prepare the lists. They already had enough evidence to convict the Ministers. Now all they had to do was go through with the punishments.
Sun had turned his attention toward something over Cheol’s shoulder. Following his gaze, Cheol’s eyes found Min-jun’s brown ones. Only a few feet of grass separated them, and Cheol could clearly see the pink coloring Min-jun’s cheeks and ears, his lips parted ever-so-slightly. Min-jun jolted backward and disappeared behind the wall, but it was too late. Cheol’s interest had been piqued, and he wanted another look at that reddening face.
He leaned his elbows on the open window, peering inside the little room with a relaxed smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly been struck shy, my love.”
Min-jun spluttered and laughed in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I be?”
Cheol hummed, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at him. Pink as the blush of dawn.
Interesting.
Awhhh
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
Aye, author-nim, I recall you saying something about kisses in the first chapters. In your comment, you asked us to wait 40 or something chapters? Anyway, I think, this scene is being slowly cultivated, hehe. (Gosh, our little scheming consort is so naive and human-hearted, what was that Gothel’s lesser twin thinking? Did she secretly ship them and was sucker for enemies to lovers trope???
Interesting, indeed! ❤