Struggle Chapter 119

Taerok’s laughter had a quality that could easily be taken for scorn. This was because he had a habit of raising one corner of his mouth first. But Nanyoung knew it was not scorn, and even if it were, he honestly liked his smile.

Especially at times like now, when he discovered some resemblance—all the more so.

“Uncle, you resemble the falcon.”

Taerok faintly furrowed his brow.

“The falcon…?”

“Our eyes met just a moment ago and I looked at it squarely, and a sense of déjà vu came over me. When I thought hard about it, I realized it resembles you.”

“I resemble a beast, you say.”

Taerok let out a short laugh. It wasn’t a disagreeable remark. If Nanyoung had said he looked like some half-baked toad or a squat frog, that would have been quite troublesome, but a falcon was fair enough.

“Then now my nephew will like falcons even more than before.”

Removing the falconry glove from Nanyoung’s hand and tossing it into the box for collecting hunting gear, Taerok murmured indifferently.

“Since my nephew likes me, after all.”

There was no answer. The boy who would normally have been chattering was quiet, so Taerok turned to look and found Nanyoung biting his lip as if troubled. Exasperated, Taerok asked again.

“No, do you still dislike admitting that you like me that much?”

“That is not the case.”

Nanyoung hesitated, then ducked his head deeply.

“When you say it like that, Uncle, I begin to suspect my own motives for having been so fond of the young falcons. The more I think about it, the more I do feel that the falcons and you truly resemble each other, yet….”

It was rambling, incoherent, mumbling.

Taerok let out a hollow laugh and approached Nanyoung, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Do you now intend to make me jealous even of falcons? Family was quite enough.”

“Pardon?”

“Why? Did you think I was a man who didn’t feel jealousy? You were wrong. I am not a man of such broad capacity. My capacity is as small and shallow as a soy sauce dish, so I feel hurt by every single thing to which my nephew gives his heart besides me.”

It was an utterly unbelievable statement. It would be easier to believe that Taerok was teasing him as a joke. That Lee Taerok felt jealousy, that he liked him to that degree, and that he was a man of such small capacity.

Unconvinced, Nanyoung retorted sullenly.

“If your capacity is so small, how could you have harbored treasonous ambitions?”

“That is a matter of aptitude. What I am speaking of is my private, personal feelings.”

“It sounds as though you are saying you have the aptitude.”

“Would you suppose I don’t? Still, I do have the blood of kings in me.”

“…You are impertinent.”

“If I were not impertinent and audacious, I would never have ended up tangled with my nephew, a man over ten years my junior.”

Nanyoung wondered if the day would ever come when he could win against Taerok with words. Taerok’s tongue was one coated with honey-flavored poison. If you licked it thinking it was oil, your whole body would be paralyzed; if you swallowed it thinking it was honey, you would be poisoned to your very core. And yet, whenever Nanyoung saw those lips, he always wanted to kiss them and tangle his tongue with his. Yes, even when he spoke such infuriating words as he did now.

“Why are you glaring at me like that? When I say I gave up my aptitude and chose my private feelings, as small as a soy sauce dish, are you newly disappointed? Wondering if you gave up everything for so trifling a man.”

Suddenly, Nanyoung wondered if Taerok was feeling uneasy. That couldn’t be…. It truly couldn’t be….

And yet, he turned his head and cupped Taerok’s cheek. The reason he kept wanting to be ensnared by that detestable, venomous tongue was surely because this man kept shaking him so violently with such words.

“No. It was precisely because you are such a man that I was able to cast everything away.”

An ordinary man and an ordinary man, a common man and a common man. Not Grand Prince and Grand Prince, not uncle and nephew, but as nothing more than one person and another—how precious were the days he lived with Lee Taerok.

Nanyoung was truly, sincerely content to live a fading life with Taerok at the northern edge, where the long winter and the long night billowed and swelled.

∞ ∞ ∞

As the days gradually grew longer and a wet snow, not the dry, creaking kind, began to fall, Nanyoung came down with a cold as if by appointment. This particular cold was especially severe. His throat hurt so much that he had to drink honey water constantly, and even that was not enough—repeatedly, cloth had to be soaked in heated water and wrapped around his body. His face, flushed with fever, was pink across his forehead and cheeks, and his eyes were swimming with heat.

Taerok, who had by now grown adept at nursing, sat beside Nanyoung, stirring a thin gruel and blowing on it—hoo, hoo.

“I’ll eat it myself.”

“Your voice is so terribly hoarse it’s hard to listen to. Just be quiet and eat what I give you.”

How could he speak even those words in such a manner? Nanyoung wondered if thorns had sprouted on Taerok’s tongue, but just a moment ago, when Taerok had thoroughly explored his lips, insisting that Nanyoung would recover faster if the illness were transferred to him, he had confirmed that there was not a single thorn on that tongue.

“Why is it that the cold, which never touches you even once, Uncle, comes only to me?”

“You must seem easy to the cold. Beyond that, I do not know. Once you’ve shaken it off and gotten up this time, I shall have to put you through some rather harsh training.”

Yet despite his words, it was obvious that no matter how much Nanyoung protested that he was all better, Taerok would wrap him up roundly like a child and keep him seated only on the warmest part of the heated floor. Even now, he spoke so meanly while his hand was extending the spoon toward Nanyoung’s mouth.

Nanyoung parted his lips and took in the gruel. It was a moderate warmth. But swallowing it was painful, like swallowing chestnuts with their spiny burrs still on. Seeing Nanyoung squeeze his eyes shut and grimace with revulsion, Taerok clicked his tongue.

“I don’t want to eat….”

Having been frequently ill since childhood, Nanyoung had first learned how to bear sickness with composure, but after coming here and living with Taerok, he had turned into a spoiled child.

Coincidentally, Taerok also found Nanyoung endearing precisely when he was being petulant with him. Though he never said so, it was he who indulged those whims to the fullest and played no small part in thoroughly spoiling him.

“I shall have it heated and brought again until you finish it all.”

Only then did Nanyoung open his mouth again. The fact that he simply opened his mouth without holding the spoon himself was absurd. But Taerok merely scooped up the next spoonful.

It was enjoyable.

He had no choice but to admit it. Taerok was, at this very moment, thoroughly enjoying himself. Wasn’t that all that mattered?

By the time the bowl was nearly empty, Nanyoung had waved his hand in refusal at least three times, saying he truly could not eat any more. Taerok scraped up the very last spoonful. Glaring at that spoon, Nanyoung bit his lip, then called, “Uncle.”

“I’ll grant you anything but saying you don’t want to eat.”

At the indifferent reply, Nanyoung bit his lip again, then asked,

“Shall we go to the capital when the snowy roads melt?”

Taerok was momentarily taken aback by the question—would he go when the flowers bloomed, when the spring wind blew, when it was not a day where the sun set the moment it rose?

“I have thought of a way. Do not women wear long veils? If I dress in women’s clothing and cover myself….”

“The method of going is of no concern. You may enter by night, you may pass as my body servant, or you may be a Confucian scholar of this region whom I have brought to see the sights of the capital. The question is, will you be able to see His Majesty.”

“…”

“Will you be able to, Lee Nanyoung?”

What answer was he hoping for? By chance, Taerok’s eyes fell upon the soy sauce dish sitting on the table. His private feelings might be smaller than that. He wanted to stop Nanyoung with whatever excuse he could find. Afraid that upon meeting his family again and lamenting what he had left behind, Nanyoung might ultimately begin to regret having chosen Lee Taerok—Taerok was displeased and uneasy.

Nanyoung, who had been fidgeting with the corner of the maple-colored table, answered wistfully.

“I want to see my nephew.”

“…”

“You, Uncle, also said you wanted me to meet my own nephew.”

He had said that, indeed.

They say a woman’s heart is a reed, but that is a complete lie. It is a man’s heart that is the reed.

Taerok was silent for a moment, then lifted the spoon. The gruel had gone completely cold. He ate it himself and then brought out a cup of strong ssanghwa-tang for Nanyoung.

“Let us do that. Let us go when the snow melts.”

∞ ∞ ∞

He sent a message to the palace, and by now, he was binding together the legs of the young falcons that had grown somewhat. Since a cart was not suitable for the mountain paths, they would travel by river, and Taerok was worried about Nanyoung.

Nanyoung was currently asleep. Covered with a blanket, his exposed round shoulders clearly bore bite marks and bruises. They had been left by Taerok.

With only a jacket draped over his bare shoulders, Taerok gazed silently at Nanyoung by the flickering candlelight.