Cheol had planned to win his darling Consort over with the sheer force of will and logic, but taking advantage of Min-jun’s attraction to him would help expedite the process. Min-jun didn’t seem like the type to get wooed with ease, but there was a chance, a slim chance that he’d bite. With Cheol’s most recent observation, he’d settled on two possible conclusions: Either Min-jun would take small steps toward falling in love with Cheol, or he would increase his defenses and panic at the slightest change in his feelings, therefore spoiling their chances by way of paranoia.
Sun watched him from the window, leaning his elbows against the window ledge. “Your Majesty, whatever it is you’re planning, please be aware of your own expression.”
“Expression?”
“You look like the cat who ate the canary. It’s enough to send a chill down my spine.” Sun pushed off the ledge, his eyes tracking something outside. “I must return to His Highness’ side.”
“Wait.”
Sun paused, eyes flicking between Cheol and his charge. “Your Majesty?”
“You’ve spent the most time observing him.” Cheol approached the window. “How likely is he to fall for me?”
Now returned to the loyal soldier, Sun maintained his polite tone, but his face had scrunched up a bit in distaste. “Your Majesty?”
“It’s a simple question.”
“You want my opinion?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
A hint of a smile curled on Sun’s lips. “I’d worry more about yourself, Your Majesty.” He bowed. “Now, if Your Majesty doesn’t mind, I must take my leave. There is a gunman on the loose and my charge has just stormed out into his range.”
And so, he was left with more questions than answers. ‘Worry about myself.’ What did Cheol need to worry for?
No matter. He had a Consort to seduce and sway. But first, it was time to give his Head Shaman a lecture.
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.
. . .
Sun-woo sat slumped against the wall, looking a mess, one leg splayed out in front of him, the other bent at the knee that he leaned his elbow on. One of his apprentices had been shot by a stray arrow, if the apprentices’ story rang true. Min-jun had run out and forced him to save himself. Nothing but vitriol between them, hmm? By Cheol’s account, they were well on their way to becoming the best of friends (and nothing more, of course. Min-jun was all Cheol’s in that regard).
Cheol stopped on the staircase to the left of Sun-woo, placing himself above the shaman. There was only one way to do this. He’d have to get to the core of the issue. “You owe him your life, I hope you know that.”
A hand reached out between the staircase’s bars to grip the hem of Cheol’s durumagi. “Then should I forfeit it? A life saved by such a degenerate, is it really worth living?”
Always so dramatic. Cheol sighed, putting his hand on the banister. “You haven’t changed, Sun-woo. Don’t you remember? Your life is mine. You don’t get to die until I say so.”
“Do you intend to keep him here, My Lord?” Sun-woo struggled with the words, the thought being too dreaded to say at once.
“I’m fond of him,” Cheol confirmed. He sat down on the steps, not minding the dirt. “I want him by my side.”
An ugly scowl twitched on Sun-woo’s face, his hands tightening and rolling into white-knuckled fists. “Do you . . . foster feelings for that fiend?”
“And if I do? Will you continue to hurt him like this?”
Sun-woo whipped his head to look at him. “He has done nothing to deserve your love.”
“Are you sure that’s the issue here, Sun-woo?”
“Your Majesty?”
A smile was enough to shut him up. Ah, Cheol had known of his feelings for a while now: Sun-woo’s incessant blushing, his loyalty, his admiration more passionate than that of a simple soldier. He never said anything, since that unrequited love ensured that Sun-woo belonged to him. But now, his sudden crusade against Min-jun: the only consort Cheol has shown any interest in. It was time to crush the shaman’s hopes. “It seems to me that you’re the one harboring unwanted feelings.”
“That’s not . . . it’s true . . .” His head bowed, eyes boring into the ground between his legs. A sniffle, a bite of the lip, as the love Sun-woo tried to masquerade as devotion unveiled itself. “I have feelings for you, My King. That, I cannot deny. I’ve loved you for a long time. But! I would never go after an innocent man on the basis of my own . . . my own attachment to you. Especially not if that action would only end in more anguish for you, Your Majesty.”
“Is the darkness you see in him that concerning?” Cheol knew Sun-woo could tell to a certain extent what sins his victims indulged in, especially at the end of a purification process. Whether or not he exaggerated them of his own accord was another matter entirely. It was unlikely, but in the event that Sun-woo had managed to weed something useful out of Min-jun, perhaps Cheol could use this to his advantage.
“He is arrogant and prideful and rude, so inexplicably rude. I could see the vanity in him from the beginning. How much he caters to his appearance, the expensive clothing he wears –”
“I bought him those. It would be rude if he didn’t wear them.”
Sun-woo slammed his fist against the wall, the skin of his knuckles being scraped away, little drops of blood pooling at his wound. “He has murderous intentions. I could sense them the moment he walked into the Palace –”
“Yes, yes, I know about that already.”
“And he’s lustful?”
“Lustful?” Cheol raised a brow. As far as he could tell, the man had shown no sexual interest in anyone other than himself, and that was only recently.
“It’s sickening. Like a cloud around him. Sweet a-and thick like the incense they use in brothel houses.”
A teasing grin spread across Cheol’s face. “Sun-woo, how do you know what incense they use in brothel houses?”
Sun-woo sniffed, offended at his accusation. “I’ve purified quite a few men that frequented such establishments.”
“How did they fare?”
“Dead. Lust is a tricky sin to cleanse.”
Cheol bristled at the words. So, there was no chance of Min-jun surviving a completed purification. “And how is my Consort lustful?”
Sun-woo shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’d have to complete the purification to understand if it’s an exterior or interior source.” Sun-woo cleared his throat in a nervous tic at Cheol’s expression. He must’ve let his anger slip. “I believe that he has been with many others before you, Your Majesty. His infidelity is clear as day.”
Infidelity? Min-jun had been training to kill Cheol for years now. When had he found the time to find a lover, never mind multiple lovers? He didn’t seem to be fostering any heartbreak aside from the one his parents had left behind.
“It does not bother me if he’s been with other men and women,” Cheol said. “He is mine now, after all.”
“But it’s against the law.”
“I do wonder who is the King of our great nation? Care to answer, Sun-woo?”
Sun-woo’s lower lip wobbled. “It’s you, Your Majesty.”
“Indeed. And what should you, as one of my closest advisors, do?”
“Listen to you.”
Cheol smiled again, a little forced, a little too intentional. He liked to think of his advisors as friends, and perhaps they had been once, but a King couldn’t have friends. He had subjects, servants. Hundreds of thousands of people under his wing, to be kept at a distance, to be protected.
Resuming his Kingly persona, Cheol stood to give his order, looking out toward the horizon, toward the golds and pinks of the setting sun. Sun-woo looked up at him, anxious to receive it. “I expect you to rethink your conclusions about my Consort, or else I’ll have to take more drastic measures. I do not care for the sins you’ve accused him of. To me, he is my partner, and I have already sworn to protect him. That is more important than a feeble tradition, is it not?”
Sun-woo hung his head in shame. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Inside, Cheol had to admit he felt less confident. It would be a problem if Min-jun’s past relationship (if they even existed) became public knowledge. The Ministers already hated the presence of a middle-class Royal Family member waltzing around the Palace grounds. They’d jump on the chance to defame him in any way possible. Hell, they’d bring his ex-lovers to the Palace themselves.
He’d have to investigate it himself at some point. Where did Min-jun say he was from? Wolgwang City, if he recalled correctly. A city that was known for its liquor and moonlit festivals, where the city-dwellers run out into the streets for dancing and eating and general merry-making. Had Min-jun participated in the festivities? Had he danced and sang and worn those silly ogre masks? Cheol couldn’t imagine him doing so. He could not remember a moment when the man had smiled at him. No, etched on Min-jun’s face was a permanent scowl, barring those moments when he tried to charm others with faux sweetness. Cheol didn’t mind the pretty scowl, but he had often wondered what Min-jun would look like if those smiles had reached his eyes.
“Perhaps you should take him along,” Hye-jin would later suggest, her nose buried in paperwork. She sat behind an ebony desk with gold butterflies engraved on it, her dark braid sweeping over her shoulder. Stuffy air reminded him that her office needed airing out. She must’ve been sitting their all day. Perhaps they all needed a break.
Wait. Take him along? A joke, probably, but that didn’t keep the idea from finding fertile ground in his mind.
Cheol snapped his fingers. “That is a splendid idea, Hye-jin.”
“I wasn’t being serious – Hey, Cheol, where do you think you’re going?” Cheol had been planning on leaving, actually. His eyes following Hye-jin, he put his gat on and secured the ribbon around his chin. He only wore it when not on official Kingly business (which wasn’t often) but he preferred the anonymity it gave him. “Who’s going to do all your paperwork for you? And the meetings? Are you insane?” Hye-jin shot up from her spot behind the desk. “You can’t just pop out of the Palace for a few days! What if someone recognizes you?”
“I’ll take care of things here,” Cheol reassured her. “And you know I fit right into the crowd when I’m out in town. No one expects the King in commoner clothing to prance through the streets.” They were all commoners anyway. Cheol was more familiar with the streets than he was with the Palace.
I think that Min Jun might survive this whole cleansing process, as he never desired people, but just did as he was told.
I mean, he did desire his ex partner, but by “people”= I meant “customers”.
Gosh, he was basically sex trafficked and brainwashed.
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
Interesting. Verrrry interesting! Thanks for the chapter!