...I forgot to update... Sorry ToT
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The emperor's summons arrived at Yeonghyeon Palace just as the sun began to dip from its zenith. Kang donned his mourning attire, a black neck collar, and matching black ceremonial robe. Sitting in his palanquin, he sighed deeply. He understood all too well why the emperor was calling him to the palace under these circumstances, and it filled him with unease. Knowing the explosive anger that King Gyeonghye harbored towards the emperor only added to his distress. His fingertips felt numb.
“I must do my best...” Kang muttered to himself, fiddling with his hands. Damyeong, overhearing him, turned his head to look at Kang. Wearing the neck collar and a long robe that covered his neck, Kang appeared deeply somber. Damyeong cleared his throat awkwardly, as Kang's uncharacteristically melancholic and pure aura was difficult to ignore. The unusual atmosphere enveloping Kang was almost enchanting. It worried Damyeong that the emperor might be tempted to pinch and suck Kang's cheeks to make him cry, just as he had done when Kang was a child.
Kang touched his neck with a heavy sigh. The scratches from King Gyeonghye's nails were deeper than he had thought, and he worried about the emperor noticing them. He had chosen to wear a garment that covered his neck, but it was not yet cold enough for such clothing, which might arouse the emperor's suspicion.
Should he claim he had caught a cold? Kang wrestled with various thoughts until he finally lifted his head to see the imperial palace glowing red in the distance. It was time to walk on his own.
“Your Highness,” Damyeong called, extending a hand. Kang ignored it and rose, striding confidently toward the Eunwoo Gate. He removed his collar and handed it to Damyeong.
“Do not follow me.”
Damyeong hesitated but then smiled and nodded. “I will wait for you here, Your Highness.”
“...Very well.”
Kang's black robes fluttered in the wind as he passed through the gate with determined steps. Only after the gate closed behind him did Damyeong exhale a light breath. He understood why Kang had ordered him not to follow.
At the gate, a luxurious sedan chair awaited Kang. He was slightly puzzled by the opulence, typically reserved for concubines, but quickly dismissed the thought. Thanks to the skilled eunuchs carrying it, the palanquin reached Cheonggeum Palace without a hitch. On the way, Kang's eyes drifted over the blooming flowers, his gaze blank. His pupils trembled uncontrollably when they landed on the red flowers. Perhaps it was because he had seen so much of King Gyeonghye's blood the previous day, but his eyes felt tired. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, let out a slow, deep sigh, and looked ahead. They had arrived at Cheonggeum Palace.
Despite wanting to refuse the emperor's command, being at Cheonggeum Palace made Kang long for the emperor. He wished he could rush into his father’s wide embrace and act like a child again.
“Your Highness, this way, please.”
Kang gazed at the chief eunuch, smiling faintly. “Where is His Majesty?”
“He is in his chambers.”
“I will go on my own. I do not need guidance.”
The chief eunuch merely smiled without a word, gesturing with his body for Kang to proceed. Kang slowly walked past them, his steps gradually quickening. Before long, he was running. His black robes fluttered in the air as he hurried along.
I want to see abamama quickly... I want to be held by him. It was so hard taking care of my brother, trying to comfort him... I'm sorry, but I'm still glad that abamama loves me.
Kang ran with clenched teeth, unaware of the twelve gates opening seamlessly before him. He moved through the silent passageway without hearing a sound.
The innermost door opened, revealing the emperor standing there in his red dragon robe. He had been about to remove his ceremonial crown but stopped, smiling subtly at his panting son. The emperor dismissed everyone else in the room, then turned to face Kang with his arms wide open.
“Baby, come here.”
Unlike before, Kang ran with full force and threw himself into his father's embrace. The emperor held his silently crying son warmly. Despite having grown into an adult, Kang's smaller frame was completely enveloped by his father. The emperor lowered his head, his arms moving like a protective thicket around Kang. In response, Kang's arms reached up to grasp his father's broad back, his fingers digging in like hooks, refusing to let go. The emperor chuckled softly and lifted Kang effortlessly.
“You’ve been crying,” the emperor remarked, noticing Kang's swollen eyes.
Kang looked down, his lips trembling as if to speak, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he wrapped his arms tighter around his father's neck, pressing himself closer.
“It's okay to cry,” the emperor reassured him.
“I’m not crying,” Kang replied in a firm yet melancholic voice. Despite his words, he clung even tighter, murmuring, “I’m not crying, Abamama. I’m not a child anymore.”
“...Is that so?” The emperor patted and caressed Kang's back, his eyes constantly searching the empty air. He gently lifted Kang's face, which stubbornly refused to let go. Kang wasn’t actually crying, but he looked deeply sorrowful. At sixteen, the boy who once knew nothing of the world was beginning to understand its harsh realities. His face, tainted by grim desires, still held a childlike innocence and kindness.
Perhaps it was Kang's inherent nature. The emperor, noticing how different his son was from himself, smiled seductively. He kissed Kang's still youthful cheek and whispered. Kang shivered at the ticklish sensation of his father's breath and voice on his skin, his fingers fidgeting against the emperor's shoulder.
“My baby has grown so much.”
“Can you please stop calling me a baby?” Kang protested.
“No matter how old you get, you'll always be a baby in your father's eyes.”
Kang blinked at the plausible response. The emperor held Kang in his arms like a child, his back supported by one of the emperor's arms and his legs draped over his thigh. The emperor cradled him like this, raising Kang’s hand to his lips. As he kissed the calloused hand, hardened from archery and swordsmanship, Kang was startled but didn’t pull away. The emperor, with his eyes closed, kissing him, seemed almost sacred, like during the rites performed to heaven, reverent and beautiful.