It was dark when they left the Villa. For the sake of time, the King took him to a grassy clearing in the garden, where they had enough privacy while maintaining a decent amount of space to practice. The King had handed him a wooden sword said to weigh approximately the same amount as the metal sword he would handle later on.
“Do not worry,” the King told him. “I’ll go easy on you at first.”
Min-jun’s pride flared at the comment, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew he was no match for the King in such matters. He sat in the grass, stretching as the King had instructed. When he stood once more, the King walked behind him, his hands guiding Min-jun’s limbs into the proper position, enveloping Min-jun in his heat. Then, the King moved back and came to stand beside him.
“How much do you know about martial arts exactly?” the King asked.
“My mother taught me,” Min-jun explained. The memory of his mother’s lessons tugged on his heart. He’d hated them back then, since he’d always come back sore and bruised from being thrown about like a sack of rice, but when push came to shove, they proved invaluable.
“Good,” the King said. “Then I’ll skip the basics. Let’s work with what you have.”
“Sounds like you’re in a rush,” Min-jun commented, muscles cramping from being in one position for too long.
“I wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t decided to throw yourself into a den of wild beasts,” the King said, a bit of annoyance finally leeching into that smooth tone. He beckoned with one hand. Begin. Min-jun leaped forward, aiming a punch at the King’s chest. The King easily evaded it, arm raised to block the attack. Once more. Again and again, aiming strikes that should land but never did. The King didn’t lift a hand against him and not a single bead of sweat trailed down the King’s perfectly sculpted face, his breathing even as if he’d gone on a pleasant stroll.
Min-jun aimed another strike at the King’s abdomen. Suddenly, he found himself being pulled by the wrist, his arm pushed against his back almost painfully.
“If I were to kill you,” the King whispered in his ear. “I could’ve done so ten times over now.”
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.
“How generous of you not to,” Min-jun said, hating how he had to gasp for air while the King remained unfazed.
“Dea. Zbra wfc mbeiv cfnfg vgfjw bo yflcu bc ws ifnfi,” atf Blcu gfqilfv. “Rbg mbeiv atfs vgfjw bo yflcu agjlcfv ys rbwfbcf ilxf wf. Vb kf vbc’a tjnf ab yf abb ojajilralm.” Ktf Blcu aegcfv Zlc-pec jgbecv, tjcvr rfaailcu bc tlr rtbeivfgr.
“Tbe tjnf rbwf cjaegji ajifca.” Lf ygertfv ja atf rwjii ragjcvr bo tjlg atja tjv ubaafc ibbrf ogbw Zlc-pec’r tfjvyjcv. “Dea sbe klii yf vfjv lc j wjaafg bo wlceafr lo rbwfbcf klat fnfc rilutais wbgf fzqfglfcmf jaajmxr sbe.”
And outside of the Inner Palace, Min-jun would be infinitely easier to target. He had taken for granted that his safety would be similarly guaranteed in the Royal Academy, but the truth was, any place outside of the King’s watchful eye was dangerous, even with Sun there to protect him.
“I will teach you all I can in the time we have,” the King said. “Sun will take care of the rest.” The King cupped Min-jun’s chin and tilted it up. Trapped once more by that violet gaze. “But if we are to do this, I cannot have your defiance getting in the way. You must do exactly as I say.”
“Alright.”
The King looked down at him, an eyebrow arched in surprise. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
“Not even a snide remark?”
Min-jun crossed his arms. “Why are you so surprised? I can be agreeable.”
A snort sounded from behind him. Min-jun whipped his head back to glare at the offending person: Sun stood leaning back against the trunk of one of the large maples, watching them with a dash of amusement on his normally stoic features.
“I can be,” Min-jun murmured.
“I’ll hold you to it,” the King said, straightening. “First, let’s take care of your stance. With the number of blind spots you have, I could’ve –”
“I know, I know, killed me ten times over.”
“Min-jun,” the King warned.
Min-jun bristled. “I was just saving us time.”
“You’d save us more time by letting me finish my sentences.”
“Tch.” Min-jun folded his arms across his chest again, looking up at the King. In two days’ time, he would be entering the Royal Academy. He needed to brush up on his skills, and, as much as he hated it, the King was the best martial artist he knew.
Ugh, just his luck.
. . .
The King apparently meant to have him die of exhaustion. The lesson went on for four hours, leaving room for only quick breaks for Min-jun’s sake. The King, of course, remained unfazed, though Min-jun could swear he was enjoying this a bit too much.
Min-jun was pushed to the ground for the thousandth time, all the air sucked out of his lungs, his back aching. Scratch that, the King was clearly drunk on power! He caught that little gleam in the King’s eye, there was no fooling Min-jun!
This time, miraculously, the King let him catch his breath. Min-jun gasped, drenched through with sweat, his hair sticking to his face.
“You seem quite spent.” The King leaned in. Min-jun remained on his back, feeling disoriented from being tossed around this way and that.
“You look the same as you did when you arrived,” Min-jun replied, chest still heaving. In this position, Min-jun was reminded of how he’d expected their night to go. Tender caresses and stolen kisses, not a four-hour lesson in pain. Oh, he would be so sore the next morning, and he’d gotten no pleasure out of it either.
“Let us stop here,” the King said. He rose to his feet deftly. “We will continue this tomorrow evening.”
Min-jun stayed on the ground. He couldn’t move a muscle anymore. It felt as if his body had simply given up. The King peered down at him, curious. “Are you not going to stand?”
Min-jun averted his eyes, pouting. “It hurts.”
The King kneeled down, caught between amusement and genuine concern. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this must be painful for you.” Without missing a beat, the King slipped one arm under Min-jun’s knees and the other around his shoulders. The King brought him close to his chest. “It’s for the best.”
‘It’s for the best.’ That was what Mother said when she put him in the brothel. Save your beloved friend, avenge your parents, it’s for the best. For the good of us all. In this case, it was for Min-jun’s own good. Coming from the King, it sounded almost apologetic. How foreign. Min-jun couldn’t think of a single moment when Mother had apologized so earnestly. It was only ever Min-jun’s fault for being so inadequate.
“Sleep, my love.” The King’s breath tickled the shell of his ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
Min-jun let himself drift off, listening to the steady beat of the King’s heart. Somehow, he believed him. Take care of me, then, Your Majesty. I’ll leave it to you.
A/N: And here is the promised second chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know nothing about martial arts other than a single class I took when I was like eight, so I’m sure a lot of you are more knowledgeable than I am. Anywho, thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment down below! Also, before I forget, Happy New Year! I hope you all have a great year. Let’s make 2022 not terrible.
Mother is good at angering me eveb though she only appeared once in Min-jun’s thoughts in this chapter…
Just wait until you see her interacting with Min-jun. You’ll be livid. Our boy doesn’t deserve this.
Cheol is a good husband, chipping away at the wall around Min Jun’s heart.
Thank you for double update
Cheol really is out here doing his best to thaw Min-jun’s heart. ❤ Thank you for commenting!
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
Thank you for commenting!
It’s kind of funny that he doesn’t expect his first time with the king to be a four hour lesson in pain 🤣. That shows as much faith as falling asleep while Chaol is carrying him.
😂 omg yes. Min-jun puts too much faith in this man, ironically. Thank you so much for commenting!
Min-jun: …so no head?
Min-jun: breaks skateboard
😂 domdom, i am deceased