Chapter 70
Facing Hwi makes me weary almost instantly. I must constantly examine and interpret the look in his eyes, his complexion, and even gauge his intentions. While reflecting on when this all began, dandelion seeds suddenly rose like wind, and without missing a single one, they threw themselves out the window.
Hwi slowly moved toward the window and closed it himself. As the sunlight dimmed, the room grew somewhat dusky without any candles lit.
“Do you fancy that woman?”
At his soft question as he turned around, Yun-seo couldn’t help but be shocked.
“You were laughing quite heartily.”
Is he now trying to control even my laughter? Asking if I fancy a woman? How hypocritical coming from a man who keeps a line of concubines.
“Even if I did, what could I possibly do about it?”
Yun-seo coldly countered. Do my likes and dislikes even matter in this imperial palace? I can’t freely do anything, and can never grasp what I truly desire.
“If you could, would you?”
Hwi took a step closer, his eyes sharp as a well-honed sword. The sudden intimidation pressed upon Yun-seo, but this only made him stand more upright.
“Isn’t Your Majesty the one who can do as he pleases? How could I ever match Your Majesty, who takes both women and men into your embrace?”
“Do they bother you?”
As Hwi’s expression softened, Yun-seo became even more incensed. The anger that had been simmering inside him with no escape finally overwhelmed his reason.
“They are—”
“No. Having them by Your Majesty’s side is a blessing to me. There’s no need for you to visit so frequently. I will focus solely on fulfilling my duties. Please bestow your affection on them, and let each of us perform our roles accordingly.”
“I will never desire anyone else besides you.”
“How could the Emperor of Great Yeong concern himself with the feelings of a mere Yeong Chunhwa? You need not worry—I will give you the Suho Star regardless, so desire whatever you wish.”
His poisoned tongue ran wild. Yun-seo, consumed by his own rage, wished only to end everything here. He no longer wanted to be trapped in the pain of deciphering and doubting Hwi’s true feelings. It seemed easier if only duty and state affairs remained in their relationship.
Hwi, who had been silently watching Yun-seo, had a vein bulge at his jaw before gradually subsiding. He lowered his head, then raised it with a slanted smile.
“Shall I tell you the primary duty you must understand?”
Hwi took another step closer, narrowing the distance between them. His eyes gleamed coldly, ensnaring Yun-seo.
“Your duty is to accept me. To come to me first and happily embrace me.”
“I can do anything if Your Majesty commands it.”
The sharp light crossing those dark eyes quickly settled into calmness. As Yun-seo met Hwi’s intensifying gaze, he discovered the contradiction within himself.
While thinking he wanted to end everything, he still sought confirmation. He wanted to scratch and stab Hwi to see if he too would bleed. Somehow, Hwi’s wounds seemed like they would prove his sincerity. This circular thinking cut into Yun-seo’s affection.
How could this emotion be called pure love? With an empty sigh, Yun-seo revealed the truth he had suppressed and trampled down.
“Was it true when you said I was your first? Have you ever shown me your true heart since we met?”
“If I said yes, would you believe me?”
“No! I cannot believe you! Throughout our time together, you have continually deceived me!”
Tears welled up. Yun-seo finally realized he had been standing in the same place all along. Since first confronting the truth in that coastal village, since facing Hwi’s deception, he hadn’t moved forward at all.
“Is there anything left between us? Where is the man I fell in love with?”
“…”
“You clearly had numerous opportunities to confess. It was Your Majesty who chose not to take them.”
Hwi’s Adam’s apple moved dramatically, as if swallowing countless words. His eyes, fixed on Yun-seo, grew darker and more desolate, like a night sky covered in storm clouds. He briefly looked away, then returned his gaze to Yun-seo, tilting his head.
“Actually, I’m curious too.”
“…”
“If I had revealed all the truth, what would you have done?”
The unexpected question struck at the core. Momentarily speechless, Yun-seo’s eyes wavered in confusion.
If Hwi had confessed the truth before their marriage, or if he had spoken honestly that night…
Just as Yun-seo’s lips parted, Hwi approached with large strides until he was right in front of him, gripping Yun-seo’s chin and gently pressing his lower lip with his thumb.
“Don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”
His attitude suggested he had already determined the answer. It was closer to acceptance than resignation, and although Yun-seo wanted to disrupt his presumption, he couldn’t find the words.
Hwi’s gaze traveled over every corner of Yun-seo’s face. Yun-seo hated how desperately he wanted to classify and name each emotion in those eyes. As Yun-seo tried to avoid his gaze by lowering his eyelids, Hwi spoke.
“Was your promise to love me regardless of who I am a lie?”
Even his breath froze between his lips. Yun-seo trembled slightly as he raised his eyes, unable to believe Hwi had mentioned that promise.
With a face as dry and desolate as ruins untouched by sunlight, the man asked:
“Are Do-hwi and I different people in your eyes? Must I be Do-hwi, who knows neither your real name nor the truth that you are a Yeong Chunhwa?”
Ha. Yun-seo let out a dejected sigh. Hwi’s question sounded like a reproach—you also didn’t reveal the whole truth. Yes, he too had concealed his name and his identity as a Yeong Chunhwa until the end. Even before the one he loved, he couldn’t be honest—that was his undeniable flaw and selfishness.
But did Hwi understand why he had done so?
“Yes. Because I never wanted to be a Yeong Chunhwa in front of you.”
That promise was the heart he had fully revealed in his happiest, most fulfilled moment. And the one who destroyed it in an instant as soon as the sun rose was Hwi.
Did it have to be that way?
If he truly hadn’t been a Yeong Chunhwa, would Hwi have even looked at him?
Perhaps both of them had built their affection on lies from the beginning, so it was only natural that it would crumble like a sand castle. Yun-seo couldn’t contain his flowing sadness and anger, his lips trembling as he glared at Hwi.
No thoughts came anymore. He only wanted to hurt this man who stood before him so calmly, revealing no emotion. Only to wound him.
“I regret to say my heart was conditional. Had I known everything, would I have even loved you?”
Hwi’s eye twitched. But Yun-seo wanted more—frustration, pain, tears—desperate proof that would validate their love.
“All of it… I regret it.”
As he denied those precious moments himself, a sharp, burning pain struck Yun-seo like a knife through his heart. A fleeting regret for his words passed through him, wishing he could take them back, but nothing could be undone.
Hwi gently brushed Yun-seo’s lower lip. Blue veins stood out more prominently and roughly on the back of his hand, yet his touch was infinitely tender and careful.
Yun-seo couldn’t tell if his pounding heartbeat stemmed from fear or excitement. Remembering kisses that had been rough and desperate enough to steal his breath, he curled his fingers into a fist.
“Now I see… your dagger points in both directions.”
Hwi raised the finger that had been stroking Yun-seo’s lips to catch the tears flowing from the corner of his eye.
“That’s fine. You may stab me. But don’t harm yourself.”
After meticulously wiping away the moisture, Hwi withdrew his hand and stepped back. He held Yun-seo’s gaze in silence for a while before turning away.
Shortly after Hwi left, the door opened and Yeondeok entered carrying a dish.
“Um… His Majesty. He brought these rice cakes for you to eat…”
Yeondeok surveyed the atmosphere of the room while placing the dish on the table. Inside were beautifully arranged rice cakes decorated with flowers and shaped like animals. Yun-seo looked at them with reddened eyes before collapsing to the floor.
“Huu…”
The tears he had been holding back burst forth. Yun-seo wiped his eyes with his hands, stifling his sobs.
That the dagger pointed both ways meant that Hwi too had been stabbed.
If only he had said he was sorry, that he couldn’t help it, that he also loved him—if only one such utterance could make Yun-seo forgive Hwi’s deception and the time that vanished like a mirage. But Hwi, who to the end refused to give him any justification, seemed heartless and cruel.
Yet despite wanting to hate Hwi endlessly, Yun-seo kept finding himself understanding and pitying him. Whenever the palace felt overwhelmingly vast, whenever he felt lonely because of it, whenever duties and responsibilities weighed on his shoulders, whenever he wanted to abandon everything and flee—he would think of Hwi who had endured all this alone.
That gaze that looked on from a distance even in their happiest moments, the words he moved his lips to say several times but swallowed instead, that conflict and anguish. And thus, love.
No matter how much he tried to deny it, he couldn’t deny that Hwi still, from some point onwards, continuously held him in his heart, and that it was absolutely not pretense. For affection was something that reached out. Without effort, simply through the act of looking.
What he truly wanted was only Hwi’s heart, and he just needed to accept it. He just wanted to love Hwi, but why was that so difficult and arduous?
As Yun-seo wept sorrowfully, a single dandelion seed appeared from somewhere and settled at his feet. He grasped it preciously, clenching his fist tightly for fear of losing it.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
