Chapter 17

Kang walked alone down the corridor, where even the sound of his breath seemed like noise. Ahead of him was the hunched-over chief eunuch, beside him were palace maids, and by each pillar stood guards with spears, yet their presence was as faint as ghosts, making him feel utterly alone.

The stark silence grew heavier with each step. As he grew older, the overwhelming pressure and loneliness of the palace increasingly suffocated him. Kang maintained a calm facade, skillfully hiding the tension in his eyes. His muscles, restless beneath his skin, were now quiet. He was becoming an adult in appearance, pretending not to feel the blood coursing through his veins as he walked.

Perhaps, he was becoming numb and accustomed to it. In the endless flow of time, both body and soul wore down and became rounded. The friction created by time was weakening, leaving wounds on his heart less deep.

Had his mother trained herself this way? King Jinyeong and King Gyeonghye too? Kang thought of the countless princes and concubines who had walked this corridor, a self-mocking smile playing on his lips.

He stopped at the outermost of twelve doors. It depicted a scene from hell. A wolf, trying to climb to the sky, was depicted, surrounded by a pile of black stones. Before he could fully take in the lifelike gleam in the wolf’s eyes, the chief eunuch spoke up.

“Your Majesty, King Yeonghyeon has arrived.”

The same voice and tone repeated as Kang passed through the twelve doors. This was the inner sanctum of Cheonggeum Palace, the safest place in the Yeon kingdom, where the emperor was meticulously protected. Not even Kang could come and go freely. As he stood still, looking ahead, the twelve responses came back like echoes.

“Let him in,” the chief eunuch said, bowing his head and stepping back. With each step Kang took forward, the doors opened at precise intervals. The sound of the doors closing behind him, as the palace maids shut them, echoed crisply. Kang walked, focusing only on what lay ahead.

He traversed through depictions of hell, passed seven doors, crossed the sea, walked on land, and finally ascended on the back of a wolf. The eyes of the ascending wolf had transformed into a serene and divine gaze. At the end of that gaze stood the emperor. The emperor's golden eyes turned the silence into a sweet ocean in an instant. Kang, like a shipwrecked sailor, reached out into that ocean.

The emperor approached with a smile but did not take Kang’s hand. Instead, as always, he hoisted Kang up by his armpits. As he lifted him, Kang's body dangled in the air, as it did whenever they met.

The emperor's blue sleeves rolled back, revealing white, muscular arms. These robust arms, which held and cherished Kang, moved dynamically. They were a stark contrast to his noble and beautiful face, appearing almost violent.

“Baby,” the emperor called, using the affectionate term that always made Kang blush. The emperor laughed heartily, spinning Kang around. The black shoes with lotus patterns traced a path in the air.

“What a naughty child you are. Do you know how lonely your father has been waiting here?” Kang lowered his head, extending his arms. The emperor, indicating that Kang should embrace him, extended his neck. The silk dangling from the emperor’s hairpin swayed, teasing Kang’s skin. He wrapped his arms around the emperor’s pearly, veined neck.

Kang’s body pressed tightly against the emperor’s chest. The emperor enveloped him with his entire body, breathing in deeply. The scent from the emperor’s body made Kang feel dizzy. He buried his face into the broad, angular shoulders, not moving.

“Abamama…”

Kang clung to the emperor, speaking in a playful tone. The emperor, holding Kang, lay down on the bed. Offering his arm to his son, he gently stroked Kang's cheek with his fingers. Though the affectionate touch tickled, it was so tender that Kang couldn't refuse it. He half-closed his eyes, fully surrendering his cheek to the emperor's caress.

Here, he felt he could talk. After all, Abamama loved him. Kang superimposed his hazy memory of his mother's face over the beautiful face of the emperor.

“Do you know why your father called you?” The emperor asked with a sly smile just as Kang was about to speak. Not knowing the reason, Kang shook his head. The emperor laughed intermittently, then quickly hugged Kang and placed him on his stomach. Finding himself impudently seated on top of the emperor, Kang turned his face away in embarrassment. In moments like these, it was hard to look at the emperor's handsome visage. His golden eyes, shining like green apples, were too tart.

The emperor sat up, holding Kang around the waist to prevent him from falling, and with his other hand, he brought over a box. He undid the latch and slowly lifted the lid.

“Peaches,” he said proudly, his eyes sparkling. Kang, seeing the large, vibrantly colored peaches that already emanated a sweet fragrance, swallowed hard. They were large, beautifully colored peaches, fit for an emperor.

“These are so rare that only I am allowed to eat them, but I saved them for you,” the emperor said.

“Abamama…” Kang trailed off. The emperor, knowing Kang’s particular fondness for sweet fruits like peaches, grinned broadly. Without hesitation, he scooped Kang up, sat him between his legs, and placed a peach in his hands.

“Go on, eat.”

The emperor was clearly telling him to eat it alone. Kang knew well how precious peaches were in Yeon Kingdom. During a famine, even the emperor couldn't eat them often. Holding the light pink peach in both hands, Kang turned it around. If only Mother could have some of this, too, he thought, feeling a pang of sorrow.

Noticing Kang losing his spirit, the emperor narrowed his eyes. Teasingly, he poked Kang's cheek, which was more fragrant and sweet than the peach itself. Kang snapped back to attention.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Well… I feel bad eating it alone,” Kang mumbled, placing the peach down. His eyes shone with a desperate longing, but his hands acted contrary. He looked up at the emperor with a pleading expression. The emperor was immediately captivated, his heart struck by the boy’s gaze, making him momentarily forget to breathe. All he could see was Kang.

“Can’t I give some to Mother? Or maybe to my brothers… or my younger siblings…?”

“Do as you wish,” the emperor replied, his voice low and uneven. Kang tilted his head, wondering if his father was unwell. The emperor blinked slowly and spoke again, more deliberately.

“I mean, if that’s what you want, Kang, you may do so.”

“Really?” Kang beamed. He shifted, kneeling on the bed, partially facing the emperor. Oblivious to the emperor’s dazed stare, Kang carefully placed the peach back in the box. He then put his hand on the emperor’s shoulder and kissed his fragrant cheek.

“I humbly thank you for your kindness, Abamama.”

The emperor’s eyes widened, and his hand froze like stone. Kang was merely doing what the emperor had taught him as a child. The emperor, though embraced by his son, felt paralyzed as if under a spell, unable to move. His heart was boiling like molten lava. Overwhelmed by a near-violent throbbing, he closed his eyes.

“…Ah,”

The emperor let out a sigh, close to a groan. Trembling like a man with a fever, he hugged his son. He couldn’t muster any strength. He feared that if he did, he might break him. Simply holding Kang was enough; he buried his face in Kang’s neck. This time, it was the emperor clinging to the young Kang.

His chest hurt so much that even breathing was difficult. This kind of pain was a first.

While the emperor oscillated between hell and heaven in his agony, Kang laughed innocently. Having had one request granted gave him courage. Kang looked directly at the emperor's tear-glossed face and parted his crimson lips.

“Abamama, there is one more thing I wish to ask…”

The emperor slowly opened his eyes and asked, “What is it?”

“Since I have been made a ‘King’, could you also bestow a fitting rank upon my mother?”

“Yes, if that is your wish, I will elevate Lady Borim to a noble status.”

The emperor did not scold Kang for speaking so directly, forgetting to speak in a roundabout way. He nodded as if entranced, promising to grant Kang’s wish. Kang’s smile shone brighter than the early summer sun. The emperor felt his heart lurch in the precarious balance of his emotions. He felt as though he might die from the sheer overwhelming sensation. The abyss stretched out below, yet looking forward, he saw his son smiling like a blooming flower.

The child who once seemed like he would collect acorns had grown, becoming firm and mature. He would continue to grow, becoming more beautiful and radiant.

How could he ever think of sending such a son away? For a moment, the Emperor regretted making his son a ‘King’ with a pain that felt like it might kill him. If he had known it would come to this, he might have just demoted Kang from his royal status. That way, Kang wouldn’t be able to marry or go to war and would remain by his side forever.

Unaware of the darkness creeping into the Emperor's eyes, Kang smiled with a purity greater than that of midwinter snow. He kissed the Emperor’s cheek repeatedly, making smooching sounds. The Emperor melted in bliss at his son’s endearing affection. His fingertips and toes tingled with numbness.

“Abamama, do you dislike it when I kiss your cheek?” Kang asked cautiously when he noticed the Emperor dazed and silent. The Emperor, lips tightly sealed, gazed at Kang. His hands moved without permission, caressing Kang’s cheeks endlessly. His hands, like leaves swept by the wind, descended to Kang’s waist.

“Ah!”

The Emperor suddenly pulled Kang into a fierce embrace. Faced with his father’s wall-like chest, Kang awkwardly raised his arms. The Emperor buried his nose in Kang’s fair neck and whispered.

“You’re so cute and lovely, I don’t know what to do with you.”

Kang’s cheeks turned a peachy red. Sensitive to praise, his face always flushed whenever the Emperor or the Princes praised him. Nestled quietly, Kang fidgeted with his fingers. The Emperor’s warm breath on his neck made his shoulders shiver slightly.

“That tickles, Abamama….”

The Emperor slowly lifted his head. Looking at Kang’s rosy cheeks, he smiled faintly. Kang, comforted by the Emperor’s smile, beamed back like a good child. Normally, he would mirror the smile as if looking into a mirror, but today the Emperor seemed troubled. His eyes flickered as if lost, unsure of the path ahead. When Kang leaned forward to look more closely, the Emperor pulled back.

“Abamama.”

Kang pursued the Emperor like a relentless tide. With no escape route, the Emperor averted his gaze, focusing only on the innocent ground.

“Oh, are you asking for bedtime stories?” he inquired.

“…Do you want to sleep together?” Kang asked. He blinked slowly, then opened his eyes again. With a resigned sigh at his son's persistent presence, he relented. Kang sluggishly moved to lie on the bed, pulling at the Emperor's sleeve like a fetus grasping for comfort. Yielding to the gentle force, the Emperor lay down beside him. He pulled the blanket over Kang's small body.

“I heard you played with King Jinyeong today. Did you have fun?”

“No, Abamama. We just had a little chat.”

“What did you chat about?”

With the Emperor's comforting touch, drowsiness crept in. Kang blinked his heavy eyelids and answered in a sleepy voice.

“He asked about wife… If it's been decided...”

“Wife?”

The Emperor mused slowly, then burst into laughter. It was a warm, kind laughter, but something bitter lingered beneath. Sensing Kang's unease at the odd laughter, the Emperor covered Kang's eyes with his palm as if to shield him.

“Wife… So, my baby is already thinking about marriage.”

The Emperor chuckled softly. His lips, unusually red, moved like blooming flowers. Kang murmured something inaudible. As the Emperor's gaze narrowed, instinctively reading his son's lips, he smiled.

Clearly understanding, he laughed. His low laughter resonated like the echo of a bell on the ground, tinged with a hint of madness. Removing his hand, he watched as Kang, seemingly intoxicated by the Emperor's warmth, slowly blinked his eyes. The Emperor reached out and took Kang's wrist. It felt too small and fragile, like grasping a nutrient-deprived branch.

“You seem too small to get married.”

“I'm not small… I've grown a lot.”

Kang pouted at the Emperor, his eyes twinkling like a fox's, as he gently complained. However, his tone was so gentle that it sounded more like playful whining than actual complaint. Not wanting to miss a word of Kang's voice, the Emperor, who had been listening intently, chuckled softly and took Kang's wrists in one hand.

“Come on, show me. How big you are.”

The Emperor whispered affectionately, but Kang, either drowsy or stubborn, wrinkled his nose in protest. Chuckling, the Emperor let go of his wrist. Kang, now free, reached out and firmly grasped the cuff of the Emperor's sleeve. As if demanding him to stay, not to go anywhere, the Emperor couldn't bring himself to move.

It was enough force to push him away. Breaking Kang's wrist would have been easy with just a decision. But the Emperor, unsure of what to do, looked at his son with a bewildered gaze.

“Once you're older, when you're bigger….”

Muttering as if trying to remain composed, the Emperor looked at his sleeping son, gently caressing his cheek, and said calmly, “Well, even if you grow up more, it seems you won’t have a marriage.”

He carefully removed the hand or finger attached to the sleeve, afraid Kang might wake up. Kang's hand twitched as if disappointed, even in his sleep. The Emperor covered him up to the chin with the smooth blanket, tidying Kang's tousled hair before stepping out of the bed. Behind him trailed courtiers, palace maids, and guards.

The Emperor, barely exhaling his pent-up breath, finally spoke.

“Summon Soyunhyeop and Ye Damyeong for a confidential meeting. I need to know what Kang discussed with King Jinyeong.”

His pace quickened, followed closely by the shadows that moved swiftly, swallowed by the darkness. Dust stirred briefly before settling back down on the ground.

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