“It was nothing of importance.”
“How could it be nothing when His Majesty reacts in such a manner!”
The Empress Dowager quickly spoke, glaring at King Jihong. The eunuchs and guards guarding the Emperor's tent trembled at the authoritative voice of the former empress and current Empress Dowager, but King Jihong, who considered her his mother, laughed it off cheerfully. He displayed an overwhelming affection for his mother. However, the Empress Dowager showed no signs of calming down. Watching Jihong's back as he walked, she bit her lips in frustration. Both the Emperor and King Jihong, having been raised by the former emperor and empress, tended to act according to their own whims. When they were stubborn like this, even the words of their mother, the Empress Dowager, had no effect. They shared secrets among themselves and acted as they pleased.
"Truly, you both leave this mother all alone," she murmured bitterly as she stood there. King Jihong looked back and gave her a tender smile. It was a smile more dazzling than the brilliant sunlight.
"It really was nothing important," he said as he strode over to his mother and boldly took her hand. The royal family generally avoided physical contact after marriage and having children. However, King Jihong was affectionate towards his mother. He adeptly navigated the palace's protocols, doing as he pleased. The primary reason he could act this way was that the Emperor solidly supported him from behind.
King Jihong, treating the Empress Dowager as he would his wife, kissed the back of her hand and looked up with a smile. Swayed by her second son's charm, the Empress Dowager spoke up.
"Was it really nothing important?"
"Of course not, Mother," Jihong replied softly, gently massaging her hand in a way only she could hear.
“His Majesty is very fond of King Yeonghyeon. Without him, he is like an enraged bull. Mother, do you wish for the sovereign of this nation to be seen thrashing about, tarnishing his name? I do not want that. Even if I must use King Yeonghyeon, His Majesty should be remembered as a benevolent sage king in history. He must be remembered as such.”
“Of course,” the Empress Dowager replied, looking at her son with a motherly, affectionate smile. King Jihong stepped even closer to her, whispering slowly into her ear.
“In that case, it is best to keep him close. Although deposing him would be ideal… if that is not desired, we must use another method.”
“Another method?” The Empress Dowager looked puzzled, and Jihong simply smiled.
“His Majesty knows the answer now. How to keep King Yeonghyeon close. He has just been pretending not to know until now.”
The sight of the Emperor with his ears flushed red was no different from a lovestruck adolescent. King Jihong, perceptive as ever, realized there was no point in stopping him anymore.
If he wanted something, he would have it; if not, he would discard it. If the Emperor desired King Yeonghyeon, he should keep him close. He was the Emperor, after all, and there was no reason he couldn't have what he wanted, even if it was his own son. Moreover, it was crucial that the Emperor did not lose his senses over King Yeonghyeon. If he lost control and acted like a tyrant, heaven would forsake him. To ensure heaven will not abandon him, making him as solid as a fortress, King Yeonghyeon had to be used.
Jihong had merely provided a clue to help the Emperor realize this. Now, it was up to the Emperor to come to the answer himself and bring King Yeonghyeon closer.
At this point, Jihong felt he truly was a born loyalist. He shrugged and laughed, leading the still bewildered Empress Dowager to the hunting grounds.
The Emperor lay sprawled on the floor of the tent, sweat beading on his forehead.
‘Abamama...’
Kang's desperate, tearful voice echoed in his mind like a haunting melody. His hand gripped the soft cloth on the ground with such force that his knuckles turned white, veins protruding like the roots of an ancient tree.
The most excruciating part was the throbbing arousal between his legs. His manhood, painfully erect, was desperate for release. The Emperor pressed his forehead against the floor, trying to stifle his moans. His heart pounded incessantly. He vividly imagined Kang clinging to his neck, dressed in light silk, lips brushing his cheek. But like a mirage, the vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He looked around, seeing only the mundane items decorating the tent. They meant nothing to him. What he needed right now was Kang. He craved Kang's scent, wanted to bury his face in it.
"...Ah..."
The Emperor gritted his teeth. He slowly lifted himself, placing a hand on his chest. His heart raced violently. But why was there such an itch, an insatiable tickle, spreading from his chest to every part of his body? The tingling, almost numbing sensation at his fingertips.
Every nerve and sense screamed for Kang. He had been so furious earlier today when Kang ignored him. That anger had driven him to nearly kill the child of a mere concubine. What if Kang hadn't come?
The Emperor clenched his trembling fist.
‘If you love him so much, keep him by your side.’
King Jihong's voice rang clear in his mind, as if he had just spoken.
‘You can have whatever you want. You are the one who can do so. You are Heaven’s chosen son. Heaven will forgive whatever you do.’
The Empress Dowager's words from his childhood twisted his heart.
‘Abamama, I love you more than anything in this world. I love you the most, Abamama!’
The image of Kang, laughing brightly and kicking his legs while nestled in his arms, was the clearest memory. It was as if a lightning bolt from the sky had struck, leaving his ears ringing. The Emperor dumbly touched his ear and looked at his fingertips. There was no trace left on his ear.
"Is this love?" he murmured to himself, staring at his palm. He saw Kang as a child, holding his hand and toddling along, then a slightly older Kang with the baby fat gone, and finally, a grown Kang, tall enough to rest a hand on his shoulder.
You will grow up and leave me, won't you? You will become an adult, find a wife, and have children of your own.
"No."
The child you should bear should be mine.
This thought came instinctively, and when he realized its primal nature, the Emperor was shocked, eyes widening in disbelief.
The mere thought of Kang with another woman made anger surge through him, and imagining that woman bearing Kang's child made him want to kill them both. Yet, the thought of Kang carrying and giving birth to his child made him so happy that he felt he could die fulfilled.
Then I will make that child the crown prince.
It was an epiphany as clear as those he had during scholarly debates with his advisors.
"Ha ha...!"
The Emperor laughed lightly in the tent, his laughter echoing as he grasped his throbbing manhood, desperate for release. He imagined his son crying and taking him into his mouth.
"...But he is still too small."
The Emperor shook his head, banishing the image of his son from his mind. Kang was too small, too young. He needed to grow more. Kang's waist was too slender, his arms and legs... Were they thin enough for him to hold both wrists with one hand? The Emperor grimaced as he tried to estimate the size of his son, who he had held in his arms today, and awkwardly grasped his penis.
It was an inept gesture, attempting to soothe the organ that women had always comforted with their hands, now for the first time by his own.
Aware of his emotions, the Emperor forced a deep laugh, suppressing the urge to groan. It was his own private secret, one that must not be discovered.