Chapter 62
Upon reaching the empty space close to the training grounds, Yun-seo spotted targets and training dummies lined up on one side. As he positioned himself facing the targets, Jeongju brought him a bow and arrows.
“This bow should fit your hand well for practice.”
“Thank you.”
Yun-seo nocked an arrow and aimed at the target. It had been a long time since he’d held a bow, and the target was placed further than when he practiced at his private residence, so he needed to adjust. When he released the string, the arrow flew and struck the edge of the target.
Yun-seo picked up another arrow and glanced at Jeongju.
“Where is Hui-je?”
“At her post.”
“Why do you take turns keeping your distance while guarding?”
“First, to maintain vigilance in all directions, and second, to ensure the Yongrim don’t conspire to commit treasonous acts.”
The arrow that sprang from his fingertips this time missed the head of the beast drawn on the target. Yun-seo’s brows furrowed as he stared at the mark.
“Has the latter actually happened before?”
“Yongrim inherently don’t wish to share Yeong Chunhwa, so they would rather take turns possessing the Suhoseong fully than divide it in half, or they might even kill their counterpart.”
“…I see.”
“But who can say for certain? Just as there are all kinds of people in the world, the same must be true of Yongrim.”
Jeongju’s matter-of-fact tone made him sound oddly detached, as if he weren’t a Yongrim himself. Yun-seo nocked another arrow and asked before shooting:
“That time, did His Majesty command you to remain silent?”
“His Majesty never gave such an order. I kept my mouth shut believing I couldn’t dare speak until His Majesty entered the palace, and His Majesty simply went along with my behavior.”
The arrow flew and struck the face of the beast. Sensing he was starting to get the feel of it, Yun-seo flexed his hand before picking up a new arrow. He nocked it, drew the string, and held his breath.
He could feel the flow of the wind against his skin. With a twang, the arrow shot forward and hit the bullseye, causing Yun-seo to release a thin breath between his lips.
“Is His Majesty unable to sleep due to that poison?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. That is correct.”
“Carrying such poison… how painful must it be?”
Only two people had received Yun-seo’s Suhoseong. The Yongrim he encountered while fleeing his family home, and Hwi. Though it was difficult to make a clear comparison based on just these two, he was certain that the poison Hwi carried was far beyond ordinary.
“Since His Majesty rarely shows signs of pain, nobody truly knows. But based on my experience… I believe he hasn’t had a single day of peaceful rest since his enthronement.”
Suddenly, Yun-seo’s fingers tingled. He pretended to sort through the arrows in his quiver while recalling Hwi’s burning hot body when he returned after six days. The tobacco scent that lingered then must have been to mask the pain.
‘Shall we run away?’
That crushing embrace, the burning touch, the desperation that seemed to burst forth after building up beyond containment. If even that had been a pretense, then Hwi would be the most skilled performer in the world.
Yun-seo shook his head as if to shake off a chill. He bit his lip hard and pulled out an arrow but didn’t nock it yet.
“When one receives the Suhoseong… does it truly make everything clear? What does it feel like?”
“When the Suhoseong calms the poison, this place feels like paradise. And thus…”
“…”
“It also feels like stepping into the depths of hell.”
Yun-seo’s gaze turned to Jeongju, who, unlike at the reception hall, had lost his smile.
How could the Suhoseong, the only salvation for Yongrim, bring both paradise and hell simultaneously? Perhaps it stemmed from the helplessness of being unable to stand alone? The feeling of a dog waiting for its master to feed it?
It felt both comprehensible and incomprehensible, like an object just beyond one’s reach. As Yun-seo mulled over Jeongju’s words, the man looked up. A faint smile appeared on Jeongju’s lips, creating a shallow dimple on one cheek, turning him back into the affable man Yun-seo had met at the reception hall.
“Your Majesty.”
“…”
“If I may dare say, a Yongrim’s poison is not a debt owed to Yeong Chunhwa.”
A light that read as affection gleamed in his brown eyes. Yun-seo looked back at Jeongju with slight bewilderment.
The more Yun-seo dissected Jeongju’s words, the more they seemed to suggest that Yun-seo shouldn’t feel guilt or obligation regarding their poison. It was kind advice, but not particularly necessary counsel to offer to the Empress.
Suddenly, a sense of déjà vu washed over Yun-seo. After asking what Hwi liked at the reception hall, that look Jeongju had given him.
“What were you trying to tell me then?”
Jeongju seemed to remember that day precisely, as he showed no confusion at Yun-seo’s question. His expression unchanged, he faced Yun-seo, then briefly glanced toward the target.
“I have one younger brother, and that child resembles Your Majesty.”
It seemed like a non-sequitur, yet not entirely unrelated. Was he thinking of his brother and trying to be kind? Or had he intended to reveal some truth that day?
Jeongju bowed his head and stepped back, dissolving any opportunity for further conversation. Yun-seo could have insisted and questioned him further, but he didn’t particularly want to.
It seemed Jeongju had a good relationship with his brother. Indeed, after becoming a Yongrim and entering the palace, he probably couldn’t properly see his family members. With this understanding, Jeongju’s attitude made sense.
Feeling increasingly unsettled, Yun-seo bit back a sigh and nocked an arrow. He straightened his back, focused on the target, and released the string without hesitation. The arrow flew swiftly and struck the center again.
Simultaneously, the sound of heavy clapping—clap, clap, clap—came from behind. Turning his head, Yun-seo saw Hwi approaching, and his expression fluctuated between pleasure and discomfort at this unexpected encounter.
“I didn’t know your archery skills were so remarkable. I’ve learned something new.”
“…I only do as well as others. My skills are inadequate compared to Your Majesty’s.”
“Of course anything would seem small when compared to a great mountain.”
Comparing himself to a great mountain—not an inaccurate description, but it left a sour taste. Hwi glanced at Yun-seo with a slight smile and stood right beside him.
“Do you enjoy archery?”
“I preferred it to embroidery or playing the geomungo.”
“Indeed. Your preferences manifest in your abilities.”
This implied that his embroidery and musical skills were lacking. Yun-seo secretly glared at Hwi while fidgeting with the bow, feeling somewhat dejected.
“You hit the bullseye, so what’s your next target?”
“Is there something beyond the bullseye?”
“You could shoot two arrows at once.”
“…An ordinary person cannot perform such a feat.”
“With some help, perhaps.”
Hwi positioned himself behind Yun-seo and supported his left arm holding the bow. He then took out two arrows and placed them in Yun-seo’s hand. With Hwi’s sudden closeness and the almost embracing posture, Yun-seo was too distracted to refuse.
When Hwi grasped Yun-seo’s right hand as well, Yun-seo found himself completely in Hwi’s embrace. The familiar feeling of being in his arms evoked nostalgia. Yun-seo’s eyes fell on Hwi’s hands, where blue veins stood out prominently.
Hwi easily pulled back the bowstring and released it. The two arrows flew in a clean arc and struck precisely on the upper part of the beast.
“A perfect hit.”
As the whisper tickled his ear, Yun-seo pushed the bow back to Hwi and escaped from his embrace. Fighting the urge to scold him for his presumptuous handling, Yun-seo lowered his head and fidgeted, when he noticed fingers plucking the bowstring rhythmically.
Twang, twang, twang…
Thump, thump, thump…
Yun-seo widened his eyes and jerked his head up.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
Hwi calmly asked back, his gaze eventually dropping and then rising again. He hooked his finger on the string to stop the movement and blinked slowly.
“Stealing a glimpse of someone’s… pulse and mocking them isn’t behavior befitting a gentleman, as even a child would know.”
The realization that he couldn’t hide his feelings from Hwi brought a flush of shame to Yun-seo’s face. How unfair that neither love nor hate was within his control, and he couldn’t even conceal them. It truly felt like he was being rolled around in the palm of Hwi’s hand, making his tightly-bitten lips tremble.
Hwi stared at Yun-seo for a moment, then reached out. Yun-seo stepped back, not wanting any contact with him, at which Hwi curled his fingers in mid-air and dropped the bow he was holding to the ground with a thud.
“To clarify, you are not ‘someone’ to me.”
Yun-seo didn’t want to hear it, especially from a man who spoke eloquently yet avoided saying what truly mattered. Yun-seo averted his gaze to show his rejection, but could do nothing more.
“I didn’t listen because I wanted to.”
“…”
“Sometimes, my ears become exceedingly tired… but not when you are by my side.”
The calm, gentle voice pulled Yun-seo in. Looking into those eyes that held a steadfast light despite his avoidance, Yun-seo recalled the common belief that Yongrim had heightened senses.
What kind of noisy world did this man—cold and serene as moonlight—live in? The realization that he could never directly experience Hwi’s suffering due to their inherent differences cut at his fingertips, causing Yun-seo to curl his fingers.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
