For several days now, Kang had been tossing and turning in the pitch-black darkness, plagued by a persistent nausea. It was a sensation he had never experienced before, and it forced him to sit up in bed. Bare-skinned, he wrapped himself in a blanket and covered his mouth, feeling the urge to vomit. But unlike the times he had eaten stone-cooked rice, nothing came out—only dry heaves that left him miserable. He pounded his chest, trying to calm himself, but it was no use. The discomfort was unbearable.
His restless movements roused the Emperor, who had been sleeping lightly. In the pale moonlight streaming through the window, the sight of his son sitting there, looking as delicate as a painted figure, was almost mesmerizing. But when the Emperor noticed Kang’s retching, he bolted upright in bed.
“Ah, Abamama—no, Your Majesty. It’s just my body… I don’t feel well.”
“Since when has this been happening?” The Emperor’s voice carried an odd, almost excited tone. Kang tilted his head, confused by the reaction. Since when? It had started earlier that evening—a strange churning in his stomach, a twisted feeling that he had brushed off as nothing serious. Unsure of what was happening, Kang spoke cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.
“It started this evening. My stomach just feels… off.”
“Did you eat the stone-cooked rice properly?” The Emperor adjusted the hem of his robe and called for a palace maid. The maid hurried over, lighting the dim bedroom. Without even looking at her, the Emperor swept his long silver hair back and ordered, “Summon the royal physician.” Kang watched in confusion as the maid rushed out. It didn’t make sense to disturb the physician in the middle of the night. But before he could question it, the Emperor brought over a robe and draped it around Kang’s bare shoulders himself. Kang sat still, letting the Emperor fuss over him, and then asked, “Abamama, is something wrong with my body?”
The Emperor’s face lit up with a radiant smile. He reached out and gently pinched Kang’s cheek, which was still warm from crying earlier that day. His thumb brushed over Kang’s flushed eyelids, and his eyes crinkled with amusement as he chuckled softly.
“You’re with child, baby.”
“…What?”
Kang stared blankly, the word “child” echoing in his mind but failing to fully register. Child, child, child… The word reverberated endlessly, and as it sank in, his face gradually turned pale. The Emperor, noticing the colour drain from Kang’s face, gently touched his flushed cheeks and lips, his voice firm yet tender.
“Finally, you’ve conceived a child in your womb. Congratulations.”
Though the Emperor saw Kang’s expression harden and the fear creeping into his eyes, he elegantly pressed his lips to the back of Kang’s hand. The spot where his lips touched burned hot, so hot it felt like it might melt. The heat seemed to pool in Kang’s chest, and he let out a soft, fragile moan. “Ah…”
“For a while, we’ll have to handle our affairs with your mouth. Your oral skill will surely improve.”
Kang bit his lip in shame, his face flushing red. His chest felt heavy, his stomach churned, and his head was spinning from the Emperor’s overwhelming presence. The Emperor laughed softly, like a carefree nobleman enjoying the breeze by a lake.
“You know why you must bear a child, don’t you?”
The Emperor cupped Kang’s trembling face and whispered. Kang, trapped in the Emperor’s grasp, could only look down, unable to move. He understood all too well why the Emperor kept emphasizing “child” and “heir.” A child was the ultimate shield. He had seen it through his mother. The moment she gained the Emperor’s favor, her status rose, her privileges increased, and more servants were assigned to her.
But knowing something didn’t make it any easier to accept. The fear that surged within him was instinctual. Kang tried to lower his head, but the Emperor held his face, forcing him to meet his gaze with trembling eyes. Kang felt terrified, yet seeing the Emperor so utterly consumed by happiness left him speechless. Frustrated, he closed his eyes. The Emperor’s hand was so soft and gentle that Kang couldn’t help but lean into it. Silently, he rested his cheek against the Emperor’s palm and shut his eyes. The flickering shadows cast by the moonlight bathed his face, making his pale complexion appear strangely alluring. His cheeks and lips, still flushed from crying earlier, stood out vividly against his white skin. The sight stirred something dark and possessive in the Emperor. He wanted to lay Kang down immediately, to forget about the pregnancy and take him until he couldn’t close his legs. But before he could act on his impulses, a voice interrupted.
“Your Majesty, the royal physician has arrived.”
The Emperor snapped out of his thoughts, and Kang turned his head as well.
“Let him in.”
The Emperor’s command was soft but firm. The door slid open, and the royal physician entered, bowing deeply in accordance with protocol. He knelt, pressing his hands and forehead to the floor.
“Come and examine his pulse. It seems the Consort is with child.”
The royal physician scrambled to his feet and approached the bed where the Emperor and Kang were seated. Kang, reluctant to extend his wrist, stared intently at the Emperor. The Emperor, who could read Kang’s innermost thoughts with just a glance, chuckled and playfully pinched his cheek. The scene was so sickeningly sweet, more like lovers than father and son, that the physician’s eyes widened in surprise. He had never seen the Emperor wear such an expression before. It wasn’t the polite, painted-on smile he usually wore—this was genuine happiness, a smile born of pure joy. The Emperor, whose beauty was often overshadowed by his cold demeanor, now looked so human that it was almost unsettling.
Kang, too, stared at the Emperor’s face for a long moment before finally sighing and extending his wrist. When his eyes met the physician’s, Kang quickly looked away, visibly uncomfortable. Though Kang was a strikingly handsome young man who could have been the subject of a painting, standing beside the Emperor, he looked… fragile. His slender frame seemed even more delicate next to the Emperor’s broad shoulders, and his pale face stood out starkly against his dark hair in the dim light. The physician, who had been meticulously examining Kang’s features, snapped back to attention when the Emperor’s voice cut through the air.
“Don’t let any strange thoughts cross your mind while examining the son of heaven,” the Emperor said, his tone sharp yet oddly affectionate as he tapped the physician’s forehead. The physician quickly returned to his task, taking Kang’s wrist to check his pulse. Kang’s expression grew tense as he watched the elderly physician, while the Emperor’s smile widened with unmistakable joy. The physician, anxious not to make a mistake, checked the pulse several times.
After what felt like an eternity, the physician glanced between the Emperor and Kang, then pressed his forehead to the floor and exclaimed, “Your Majesty, it is certain—Consort Hee is with child! Congratulations!”
Pregnant.
Kang, who had been in denial, felt the words pierce his chest like a dagger. His face turned deathly pale. He was carrying his father’s child. The reality of it hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him unable to think. He stared blankly at the physician, his lips moving slowly as he struggled to speak.
“Really… I’m pregnant?”
The Emperor, hearing Kang’s stammered words, pressed his lips to Kang’s cheek and answered. Kang’s scent wafted up—a delicate, green fragrance, like the first sprouts of spring. It was the same scent he’d had as a child, and it had always drawn the Emperor in. Now, intoxicated by it, the Emperor buried his face in the crook of Kang’s neck, inhaling deeply. Kang, pale and trembling in front of so many people, wanted to flee but couldn’t. His eyes darted around before settling on the Emperor’s broad back.
As Kang swallowed a whimper and twisted his body, the Emperor, lost in Kang’s scent, let out a rough groan and nuzzled his nose and lips against the soft, tender skin of Kang’s neck. Kang’s scent was intoxicating—fresh and green, impossible to describe but utterly captivating. The Emperor, who had been drawn to it from the very beginning, blinked his hazy eyes and lifted his head. At some point, Kang’s robes had slipped down, almost completely revealing his body. His hair fanned out like a peacock’s tail, obscuring his vision, while his flushed upper and lower body came into full view. The Emperor’s gaze grew increasingly lecherous as it roamed over Kang’s exposed form.
Kang, tears welling in his eyes, lay helplessly on the bed, unable to resist. His lips quivered as he whispered, “I don’t want this.”
He covered his face with his long sleeve, his voice trembling with sorrow. “I don’t want to… Not anymore. I don’t want to do this in front of people.” His words broke off in the middle, fragmented by his sobs.
The Emperor knew exactly why Kang was crying. Kang had always been sensitive to the gaze of others. He cared deeply about how people saw him and had always strived to be a child his parents could be proud of. The perfect, affectionate older brother, the obedient and loyal younger sibling—he tried to be all of it, and it had clearly worn him down.
The Emperor had never once demanded that Kang become such a child. All he had ever wanted was for Kang to stay by his side for a long, long time. To see Kang’s face as he cried silently, the Emperor grabbed his wrist and pinned it down. Though Kang’s lips said, “I don’t want this,” his body remained still under the Emperor’s weight, only his fingertips twitching faintly. When Kang turned his head to the left and noticed the people staring, he flinched and quickly fixed his gaze to the right. His eyes landed on the Emperor’s large, thick hand, which was lightly restraining his wrist. Kang’s gaze travelled from the Emperor’s hand, where the veins stood out from the pressure, up along his arm, and finally settled on his face.
The Emperor’s golden eyes, mysterious and profound, were fixed solely on Kang. Kang’s tear-filled eyes resembled a lake asleep between night and dawn. In the transparent darkness of that lake, the Emperor’s golden eyes rose like the sun, sinking into the depths and unable to escape. At the moment when the sun seemed to merge with the darkness, the Emperor lowered his head. His silver hair cascaded like falling leaves, forming a curtain between Kang and the onlookers.
“You don’t want it?”
“…You’re my father.”
Kang finally broke into sobs, whispering through his tears. It was clear he was trying hard not to cry. He struggled against the Emperor’s grip on his wrist, his voice soft but firm.
“No matter how much I1—no, how much this humble consort 2loves Your Majesty, this… this is impossible. I can’t do it. I just can’t…”
His chest ached unbearably, as if he’d been struck by a stone dozens of times. The pain was so intense he could barely breathe. Kang blinked at the Emperor, tears streaming silently down his temples. He was carrying his father’s child. He had committed an act that defied the natural order.
Kang’s tears fell soundlessly, his expression blank as he looked at the Emperor and spoke.
“You mustn’t do this, Abamama. Even if you say it’s a bond ordained by heaven, to have a child with me…”
The Emperor’s lips twisted into a crooked smile. As if Kang’s sorrow meant nothing, he wore a triumphant grin, causing Kang to lower his eyes in defeat. Yet Kang’s lips kept moving, pouring out his heart for the first time.
“Even if it’s a bond ordained by heaven, even if I bear Your Majesty’s child, I’m terrified of what people will say. I’m worried about what Mother saw on the day of the wedding… and what my brothers, the other consorts, and the ministers will think. They’ll surely speak ill of you too, Abamama. It breaks my heart, and I resent heaven for this… I don’t want to have this child. I wish it had never happened.”
“But your father is happy.”
The Emperor trampled over Kang’s grievances with a breezy confession. Kang’s eyes widened in shock. The Emperor brought his face close to Kang’s, pressing his lips to the tear-streaked cheek, drinking in the tears, the warmth, and even the scent before whispering,
“You love your father too, don’t you? Isn’t that right?”
Kang’s shoulders trembled violently. Unable to make a sound, he nodded faintly, like a small animal pinned down. Even in this situation, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the Emperor, who handled his body so carelessly and dominated him so completely. He respected and loved him as a father. He had devoted his entire body and soul to serving him loyally. Though he had never gone to the battlefield as a prince, he had done everything he could for the Emperor in the capital.
“I… I love you, Abamama… but I can’t… I can’t bear a child. No matter how much I think about it, I just can’t do it. I’m scared. I’m so scared, Abamama.”
The Emperor gazed at Kang, who was sobbing uncontrollably, with tender and affectionate eyes. He reached out and gently wiped away the endless stream of tears. The historian observing the scene recorded in his notes, "The Emperor touched the Consort with loving hands." Unable to stop Kang’s tears, the Emperor pulled him into a tight embrace. Their upper bodies pressed together. Though Kang no longer fit snugly in his arms like he did as a child, his torso was completely shielded. The Emperor sat on the edge of the bed, holding Kang and admiring his tear-streaked face. Moonlight bathed half of Kang’s face, giving it an oddly alluring glow. Perhaps it was because he held Kang like this every day, but the Emperor’s fingers traced the delicate lines of Kang’s face, feeling the soft fuzz still clinging to his cheeks. When he rubbed the plump, smooth skin, Kang flinched and trembled. Seeing those dark eyes that looked like they would cry if struck, a sadistic urge flared within the Emperor. He wanted to mark that face with his own, to leave bruises with his touch, to fill Kang’s throat and body until it overflowed.
No man or woman could resist those tear-filled black eyes. The Emperor’s fingers brushed the corners of Kang’s eyes, and he smiled elegantly.
“You said you love your father, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Abamama.”
Kang whispered through his sobs, declaring his love. Of course, it was love for a father, not a lover. But love was love, and that was enough.
“You said you would do anything for your father as a prince, didn’t you?”
“…Yes, Abamama.”
Kang hesitated, perhaps finally feeling the weight of fear. The Emperor pressed his lips to Kang’s pale forehead, kissing him with a soft smack before pulling away. He continued to caress Kang’s cheek, his smile deepening. His eyes were so full of amusement that Kang instinctively reached out to push his shoulders away.
But the Emperor grabbed Kang’s wrist firmly. When Kang let out a faint whimper, the Emperor looked straight into his eyes and spoke.
“If you love your father, surely you can bear a child for him. Isn’t that right?”
“Abamama…”
Kang was too stunned to respond. Seizing the moment of hesitation, the Emperor pressed further. His smile faded as he glanced over his shoulder. Without a word, the physician and the palace maids quickly exited the room. The Emperor knelt Kang down at his feet. Kang obediently knelt before the Emperor, waiting for his next words. No matter what, Kang could never escape the Emperor’s words or actions. He had been raised that way—for 20 years, he had been the only son trained to see nothing but the Emperor.
The Emperor cupped Kang’s face in both hands, locking eyes with him in a straight, unyielding gaze.
Kang’s eyes wavered like a candle flame in the wind, flickering as though they might vanish at any moment. He was deeply unsettled, his instincts screaming at him that what had been done was wrong. The Emperor, with a graceful smile, pinched Kang’s cheek and deliberately rubbed it with his thumb.
“It’s already begun. There’s no turning back or changing it now. It’s what heaven has ordained. Isn’t that right?”
The Emperor’s voice was soft and soothing, carrying a gentleness that seemed to promise comfort if Kang just clung a little tighter. Entranced, Kang gripped the Emperor’s hand tightly, placing his own over it. He looked up at the Emperor, his gaze steady, and spoke.
“Your Majesty, can you truly do this?”
Kang forced back his tears and voiced his innermost thoughts. The Emperor closed his eyes and smiled faintly, as if encouraging Kang to continue. His calm, unreadable expression suddenly filled Kang with fear, and he buried himself in the Emperor’s embrace. It was better not to look. If he saw that smiling face again, his resolve might crumble. Was this man his father or his lover? Caught between the two, Kang found it impossible to decide. So he closed his eyes and turned away.
He was terrified. Overwhelmed by fear, Kang trembled in the Emperor’s arms. The Emperor patted his back lightly, his hand moving to stroke Kang’s arm and shoulder as Kang rested his head against the bed, drained of strength. The Emperor opened his eyes and gazed straight ahead, where the waning moon hung in the sky.
It was almost as if the moon was peeking over the mountain ridge to spy on the secret, lewd affair between father and son. Amused, the Emperor smiled.
“Are you afraid of bearing a child?”
The Emperor’s voice was tender as he asked, holding Kang’s head gently. Kang buried his face deeper and mumbled in response.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m scared. How can I… how can I carry my father’s child…?”
The Emperor laughed out loud, finding Kang’s fear endearing even as he clung to him. “Haha, hahahaha!” His laughter was cheerful but carried a strange, unsettling edge. Startled, Kang looked up. The Emperor, having reined in his laughter, cupped Kang’s chin and cheek firmly.
“If I had wished for it,” the Emperor said, lifting Kang effortlessly and seating him on his lap, his grip tight around Kang’s waist. Kang, now perched on the Emperor’s thighs, tried to push him away, but the Emperor caught his hands. With a sly smile, the Emperor pressed his nose and lips against Kang’s cheek, his warm breath teasing the sensitive skin. The moisture from his breath trailed down Kang’s neck to his collarbone, then further to his erect nipples. As Kang’s breathing grew ragged and his body trembled, the Emperor spoke.
“If I had begged heaven for you, if I had asked for you to be mine, would you accept it?”
“…What are you…!”
Kang tried to push the Emperor away, but the Emperor was faster, pinning him down on the bed with his full weight. Kang’s wrists were trapped in one of the Emperor’s hands, and his legs were immobilized under the Emperor’s knees, leaving him unable to move. The Emperor slid his free hand inside Kang’s loosened robe, caressing the flat, soft belly where their child was growing.
The Emperor’s fingers traced circles over Kang’s abdomen, as if trying to confirm the presence of the formless child. Kang gasped and twitched at the touch, too afraid to open his eyes. He feared what he might see if he looked—the Emperor’s golden eyes roaming over his body with lecherous intent. So he kept his eyes shut, trembling and praying for this moment to end. His fingers curled, his toes clenched, and the line between pleasure and terror blurred until he could no longer tell them apart.
The Emperor’s breath tickled Kang’s neck, and Kang let out a choked sob, pleading, “Please, please…”
“Open your eyes, Kang.”
“N-no… Abamama, don’t… don’t do this… Ah!”
The Emperor grabbed Kang by the hair, forcing his eyes half-open. Under the oppressive grip, Kang bit his lip hard and strained to keep his eyes focused. Through the blur of tears, he could see the Emperor’s face—radiant and otherworldly, framed by cascading silver hair that seemed to glow like a halo. His beauty was almost ethereal, as if he weren’t of this world. Kang tried to steady himself, repeating in his mind:
It’s abamama. It’s just abamama. It’s not someone else, it’s abamama. It’s okay. It’s okay.
Taking a deep breath, Kang opened his eyes fully and looked at him. The Emperor smiled faintly, releasing his grip and wiping the tears from Kang’s cheeks.
“You’ve always been like this, even as a child—crying so easily, so often. But if it’s all because of the Son of Heaven, then I should be happy, shouldn’t I? No one else cries for me the way you do.”
The Emperor chuckled softly, his voice tinged with a strange mix of pride and affection. He buried his face in the crook of Kang’s neck, exhaling a tired sigh. Kang stared blankly at the ceiling, its intricate patterns visible even in the dim light. Hesitating for a moment, he reached out and wrapped his arms around the Emperor, who immediately pulled him closer. If earlier Kang had clung to the Emperor like a child, now it was the Emperor who clung to Kang like a cicada to an old tree.
“The Son of Heaven prayed to the heavens,” the Emperor murmured. “I told them, ‘This child is so beautiful, so lovable, that I’ve come to desire him without even realizing it. Can’t you grant me this?’”
Kang’s body stiffened at the Emperor’s calm, matter-of-fact confession. His hands, resting on the Emperor’s back, began to lose their strength, but the Emperor, still clinging to him, didn’t seem to notice. Lost in Kang’s scent, the Emperor nuzzled into his neck, shoulders, and chest, inhaling deeply as if intoxicated.
“You love the Son of Heaven too, don’t you? If another child of mine were to become Crown Prince, they would target you first. This was the only way to protect you. You know that, don’t you? You know how much your mother, Lady Yeo, has benefited from this arrangement.”
“You could have made me Crown Prince instead,” Kang said, his voice trembling with suppressed frustration.
The Emperor laughed at the mention of “Crown Prince” and lifted his head. By now, Kang’s robe was half-removed, and the Emperor ran his fingers over the marks he had left on Kang’s pale body. Kang trembled like a leaf in the wind.
“Hng… ah… I don’t want this…”
Kang covered his face with his hands, his voice breaking. The Emperor, unable to resist his own desires, grabbed Kang’s wrists and pinned them down. Kang’s tear-streaked face was beautiful—his long, delicate eyes, his straight nose, his swollen lips from being kissed and bitten. His cheeks, once carrying the scent of youth, now bore a more mature fragrance, one that the Emperor had helped create.
My child, my son, my consort. Mine.
The Emperor tugged at Kang’s pants, sliding them down just enough. Kang finally broke down, sobbing as he looked at the Emperor and whispered,
“Abamama… did you really pray to the heavens to make me your consort? Did you ask for me…?”
“Yes,” the Emperor replied simply.
He spread Kang’s legs over his shoulders, his movements deliberate and unapologetic. Kang gripped the bedding tightly as the Emperor’s fingers probed him, checking his readiness. Though Kang’s body had been loosened from their repeated intimacy, the touch still stung. The Emperor’s fingers stretched him open, testing the pliant flesh, before he took himself in hand and dragged his length from base to tip, the heat and friction making Kang’s mind go blank.
“Being Crown Prince is so… mundane,” the Emperor said, his voice low.
Kang shook his head, biting his lip. He had never wanted to be Crown Prince. All he had ever wanted was to be a proud prince, loved and trusted by the Emperor, living as a simple father and son.
“Loyal subjects? They’re a dime a dozen. The Son of Heaven doesn’t want your loyalty. What I wanted was…”
The Emperor paused, then thrust forward with force. The entrance gave way without resistance. The searing heat and the renewed pain of penetration made Kang clench his teeth. The Emperor’s member was too long, too thick—sometimes it felt like he was coupling with a beast rather than a man. How much longer until it was fully inside? Kang gasped in pain, his eyes fluttering open. Something was filling his belly. The sensation of fullness, of being stretched to the limit, made him reach down to touch his abdomen. It burned inside. It felt as though if the Emperor pulled out, his insides would come with him, so tightly were they pressed together. Kang tried to push the Emperor away, signaling for him to slow down, but the Emperor remained unmoving, solid as a tree.
“This is what the Emperor wanted. You, his son, are perfect for this. Only you can bring him such pleasure.”
“Hng, ah, ah…! S-slow down…! It hurts…!”
“The child is calling for its father, asking him to come quickly.”
The Emperor whispered lewdly into Kang’s ear, moving his hips slowly. They had been joined since the previous night, until dawn broke, and the inside was still sore and tender. But as the Emperor’s thick head rubbed against his walls, the pain brought fresh tears to Kang’s eyes. The Emperor watched Kang’s tear-streaked face as he moved. His member stretched straight and deep, and Kang felt every inch of it. Even now, he trembled, shamelessly enjoying the sensation of his father’s member inside him. The pain he cried out from was mixed with pleasure, but he didn’t understand it. He only knew fear, and so he sobbed, crying that it hurt. The Emperor laughed brightly, his heart swelling every time his son cried in pain.
The more beautiful, cute, and lovable someone was, the more one wanted to make them cry.
“You think so too, don’t you? If the Emperor were to die and disappear, do you think the Crown Prince who takes his place would spare you? Just as the Emperor did, he would be the first to raise his sword and cut off your head. Your child, your wife—all of them. Wouldn’t it be better for you to stay safe by the Emperor’s side? You can even bear his child, so it’s no issue.”
“I-I never wanted a child…! Hng!”
The Emperor thrust harder, as if scolding Kang for lying, and Kang’s breath hitched as he threw his head back. The Emperor was too deep, rubbing against his insides, making his stomach churn. His belly twitched, and the Emperor’s member squirmed inside him. The sensation was so intense that Kang’s own member stiffened, spilling seed helplessly. The Emperor collected the fluid and smeared it over Kang’s erect nipples, murmuring softly.
“The Emperor knows how much you love children. Heaven knows it too. That’s why they allowed you to conceive. You love children so much, and you love your younger siblings. By bearing your father’s child, both of those are fulfilled. Isn’t that wonderful? It’s a happy thing for you too.”
“N-no… no, it’s not… Ah, Abamama, ah…! T-too much…! S-stop…!”
Kang shook his head, crying out in fear. The Emperor’s member reached all the way to his navel, and it felt like it might burst even further. If this continued, it might reach where the child was. Kang squirmed, panicked.
“T-the baby… it’ll be ruined…!”
“The Emperor’s child won’t be ruined by this.”
Kang shook his head vigorously, trying to steady his breathing, but it was no use. The Emperor was too deep, and the sensation was making him nauseous. It’s too big… Kang muttered dazedly, his eyes rolling back. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if it would be better if he miscarried. He touched his belly, where the child was growing, and lost himself in thought.
Was the Emperor telling the truth? Could he really have asked Heaven for a consort? He had heard that the sacred rites offered to Heaven couldn’t carry the Emperor’s personal desires…
“What are you thinking about?”
The Emperor grabbed Kang’s chin, forcing his head up. Kang’s eyes, clearer now, tried to focus on the Emperor but eventually gave up, his eyelids drooping. It was a tactic Kang often used. The Emperor watched his sulky behavior with loving eyes, then leaned down to press their lips together. Kang hesitated.
“This is the only way we can both be happy.”
The Emperor continued to whisper, as if brainwashing Kang. That it was safer for him to remain by the Emperor’s side as his consort. But Kang wanted to ask—was there really no other way?
“The Emperor may have wished for it, but Heaven also permitted it… You should start accepting it. Nothing will change. You are still the Emperor’s son and his consort, and the Emperor is your sovereign.”
In the end, they were all complicit—the Emperor, Heaven. Kang steadied his wavering vision and looked straight ahead. The plump moon bathed the bed in pale silver light. In the midst of that light was the Emperor, and beneath him lay Kang, witnessing a night as bright as day. Kang gave up resisting and lay sprawled on the bed. The Emperor’s pace was too fast. Each time he pulled out, the reddened walls of Kang’s insides were briefly visible before the Emperor’s member pushed back in, dragging them along. The creaking of the bed, the lewd sounds of flesh against flesh—it all felt so distant, yet here he was, hearing it up close.
Kang’s chest ached heavily, and he struggled to breathe.
“Abamama, ah, ah…!”
Beneath his father, Kang writhed helplessly, his moans filling the air.
He should have hated it. He had rejected it so vehemently, insisting it was impossible, that it couldn’t be.
You shouldn’t be like this.
The thought flashed through Kang’s mind. He forced his eyes open, trying to see past his father’s figure. The moon seemed to laugh at him. No, it was mocking him—the son who lay beneath his father, crying out in pleasure. It was as if all the guests at the wedding, his mother, even the faded eyes of the deceased King Jinyeong, were watching and sneering. They seemed to taunt him, saying, “Didn’t you want your father too? How else could you enjoy it so much?”
This isn’t what I wanted. Where did it all go wrong?
Kang’s mind spun like a waterwheel, but no answer came. The answer was somewhere he couldn’t reach. As he tried to grasp it, the sticky sensation spreading inside him made him close his eyes. The first round had ended, and two more remained, but for now, he just wanted to lose consciousness.
“Kang-ah. Open your eyes.”
“Yes…”
Kang barely managed to steady his mind and look ahead. The Emperor was lying down, and Kang was on top of him, his back arched, his rear exposed as they joined. Dazed, Kang stared at the Emperor’s beautiful face before lowering his head. He pressed his forehead against the Emperor’s broad shoulder, breathing in and out, when the Emperor lifted his upper body.
“Ah!”
A sharp, intense pleasure shot up his spine, piercing his head. His entire body tensed. Kang clenched his fists and shuddered. Even his toes curled, proof that he was feeling the pleasure. His head hung limply, swaying. Having been intimate with the Emperor repeatedly, his stamina was rapidly depleting. With his hand on the Emperor’s firm lower abdomen, Kang exhaled a hot breath, trembling as the Emperor’s fingers traced where they were connected.
“It’s swollen.”
“Yes… It hurts.”
So please stop, Kang pleaded, but the Emperor didn’t even pretend to listen. Instead, he traced the smooth, reddened entrance, swollen and slick. It didn’t hurt, but it was deeply embarrassing. Kang, trying to steady his breath with his hand on the Emperor’s lower abdomen, looked up at the Emperor’s touch, which carried a clear intention to move.
Kang saw the Emperor smiling, bathed in moonlight. His unbearably beautiful appearance made Kang’s lower abdomen burn. Swallowing a moan as pain struck his chest, Kang shook his head under the Emperor’s obsessive gaze.
“I-I can’t… I can’t do it… This is something we shouldn’t do…”
When Kang whined like a child, the Emperor gently embraced and comforted him. His hot lips touched Kang’s temple, salty from tears. As the Emperor pressed affectionate kisses there, Kang’s eyes welled up again, as if the kisses had reached his heart. The Emperor caressed his cheek. Kang closed his eyes calmly.
“There’s nothing wrong with a son carrying his father’s child.”
Kang opened his eyes, pleading with his gaze for the Emperor to stop, but the Emperor only drove the point home harder.
“Heaven’s decree cannot be defied by mortals. We can only submit. It’s better for you to submit to fate as well.”
Even if that fate was manipulated by his father?
Kang accepted the Emperor’s approaching lips and rolled his eyes to the side, gazing at the moon streaming in.
Like an immortal traversing the world on the moon, he wished he could disappear, but the Emperor’s lips clung stubbornly, his tongue pushing in, scattering all his thoughts.
“Ah, Abamama…”
Kang’s voice, sweet and high-pitched, echoed off the ceiling and spilled onto the floor.
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