The rain fell relentlessly like thin, dense needles. Blending into the darkness, the rain that washed away the dust floating in the air darkened the world even more. Well-maintained land turned into mud without hesitation. The air froze, creating misty breaths when one opened their mouth, and the world fell silent in the prematurely advancing cold. In the quietness that seemed like no amount of shouting would elicit a response, King Gyeonghye, who was coming out of the brothel, turned around. Behind him were General Joyun, his Grandfather Kang Hochang's people, and the guards following them like remnants.
But oddly, his neck felt prickly. He felt anxious, as if scratching off the thorn-covered leaves revealed a sensitive neck. About to mount his horse, King Gyeonghye reached back to touch his neck. Even in the dark, rain-soaked shadows, he could see white fingers that seemed tinged with anger. Blood was gradually sticking under the round flesh beneath the fingernails. Seeing this, King Gyeonghye stiffened his face.
"It feels more like being embraced by a cat than a woman."
The back of King Gyeonghye's neck, wet from recent rain and his previous romp with a prostitute, was bleeding slightly from the woman's fingernails. Should he kill her? Following the blood washed away by the rain, King Gyeonghye laughed dryly. She was a woman with a body as delicate as fine porcelain. She had fulfilled her role and responsibilities as a woman, delighting the men, so there was no need to kill her. However, the next time they met, he would sternly scold her so she wouldn't leave fingernail marks again.
How should he scold her... Should he engrave indelible letters on her cheek or brand her with the mark of King Gyeonghye's slave on her back? As King Gyeonghye contemplated various torture methods with his beautiful face resembling his mother, he turned his back to the light and airy sensation sticking to his back. General Jo-Woon, who had come with him, was covering him with a cloak.
"Your Majesty, it's raining heavily. If you get wet, you'll catch a cold...."
King Gyeonghye, who had been contemplating without even realizing it was raining, looked at Jo-Woon with a dismissive expression. It was King Gyeonghye's cloak. Unlike the usual black cloaks worn by men in the neighboring country, King Gyeonghye's cloak was made of colorful bird feathers, shining even in the darkness. King Gyeonghye stood diagonally in front of the gate, looking at Jo-Woon’s face. Jo-Woon had her eyes slightly lowered, and even her cheeks were flushed. She was the woman who mercilessly wielded her spear on the battlefield, but in front of King Gyeonghye, she always showed affection and unease. That made it easy, but at the same time, it was unsettling. He couldn't understand why she loved him so passionately.
“Why are you holding that?”
"Judging from your sore shoulder, it seems like rain is coming, so when Her Highness[1] was dividing the women and horses, I contacted the stable to bring the cloak."
"Who gave it to you?"
King Gyeonghye had only one queen consort and three concubines. He had more than five children. Although Jo-Woon knew this fact well, she didn't hide her affection. King Gyeonghye draped the cloak over his shoulder and took hold of the reins.
Jo-Woon moved her chapped lips as if she had been outside for a long time and smiled quietly.
"It was Her Highness."
"Oh? She couldn't have stayed quiet about it."
The woman King Gyeonghye referred to was solely one person: his queen consort.
"She did not come out complaining of pain from her heart ailment."
Their connection was based on family ties, and King Gyeonghye did not visit her after she gave birth to their daughter. The consort, who seemed to be living well, showed no interest in King Gyeonghye's face, even though he immersed himself in the brothels and brought one concubine after another. Despite that, whenever she complained of pain in her heart or head, she never looked at King Gyeonghye's face.
"She always says she's in pain, so you don't have to worry."
"Your Majesty."
Jo-Woon urgently called out to King Gyeonghye. As King Gyeonghye, sitting on the saddle after just stepping onto the stirrup, raised his head to look at her, Jo-Woon smiled at him with respectful eyes.
"Please treat Her Majesty well. Isn't she your only wife?"
"Why should I?"
Casually shrugging his shoulders, King Gyeonghye looked at her and added calmly, "You seem to have feelings for me, yet why are you asking me to take care of her?"
Jo-Woon’s face gradually paled. She seemed to think that he didn't know her feelings. King Gyeonghye, who had been staring at her with a gaze colder than the flowing air, turned the reins without any lingering emotions. Jo-Woon also belatedly regained her senses and mounted her horse. The men accompanying King Gyeonghye pierced through the darkness, heading forward where visibility was poor.
Five years had already passed since he married his first wife. Although he lived in the royal palace, King Gyeonghye was always out and about, so he rarely saw her face. Her features were now a blurred memory. How old would their daughter be by now? As King Gyeonghye absentmindedly thought about her and their daughter, he frowned at the sight of a coachman walking from the opposite direction. It was a late hour, and a curfew was in effect. While he, a royal, was exempt, a commoner was not.
"Hey, you there…."
As King Gyeonghye stopped and tried to apprehend him, the coachman lifted his head. He was wearing a mask. Concealing his face in the darkness, the coachman dropped the reins and whip and drew a sword that cut through the darkness. In an instant, the sword severed the throats of the two guards in front. Blood spurted as flesh split. The action, devoid of any remorse, was executed with such speed it seemed like an arrow flying. King Gyeonghye instinctively stepped back. The two guards fell forward with a groan. Startled, the horse neighed loudly and bolted, the sound of bodies being trampled underfoot echoing.
Just as King Gyeonghye decided he had to flee, people began pouring out of the coach driven by the coachman. They were also cloaked, their eyes hidden.
"Protect His Highness!"
[1] His first wife/consort