Struggle Chapter 27

Yet there was a certain coquettishness to it that made the soles of Nanyoung’s feet, merely listening, tickle for no reason.

“…”

Nanyoung, having been so startled by the person lying below that he had been looking only at them, had not even confirmed the one above. It was after some time had passed that he felt the gaze reaching him. Even for a brief moment, it was a time so long as to be audacious for someone who had ended up in the position of openly peeping like this.

When he lifted his head, their eyes met. It was a pair of eyes, black as ink. Nanyoung felt as if his breath would stop at the sight of Taerok’s eyes, staring at him with his pillar-like arms planted on either side of the woman in his embrace.

“…”

Nanyoung’s lips parted in bewilderment. He was so shocked his heart felt as if it might leap out of his mouth.

To Nanyoung, who only knew in flat, theoretical terms what this act was, what was unfolding before his eyes now was excessively vivid. It was the first time that learning had come alive and writhed. Overwhelmed by the experience, Nanyoung was pinned motionless like a mounted butterfly. Taerok’s gaze was the very wooden pin pressing down upon him.

Taerok’s lips moved. He uttered a single syllable. “Go,” or perhaps it was merely an exhalation, “Ah.”

Whatever he had said, Nanyoung turned and fled. His running steps faltered heavily. It was as if sparks had caught on Nanyoung’s body. It felt as though they would nibble away at his clothes little by little and soon set his whole body ablaze.

He felt as if he had done something terribly wicked. Unable to return to his own quarters, the place Nanyoung sought out was Sim Eung’s quarters. His legs having given out, he had no confidence to retrace the wrong path he had taken back to his own quarters. Nanyoung collapsed on the spot, and at the presence, Sim Eung, too, awoke.

“Oh, no, no, Lord Grand Prince!”

Sim Eung made a fuss, thinking that Nanyoung’s body had taken a turn for the worse. Since it was a situation where he could not make a commotion, Nanyoung waved his hand and stopped him. Sim Eung, taking the hint and lowering his voice, asked.

“What on earth is the matter? Surely you are not truly unwell!”

Nanyoung forcibly pulled away Sim Eung’s hand as he tried to place it on his forehead.

“I just… had a dream.”

Nanyoung answered incoherently, waving his hand. Even that appearance was exactly like when he was feverish with high heat, so Sim Eung hastily moved Nanyoung to his own bed.

“Dear me… Did you have a bad dream, then? It must be because the very earth and water are unfamiliar. I shall go and ask for something that might aid your sleep…”

Lying down on the spot, Nanyoung turned and tightly grasped Sim Eung, who was about to call the acupuncture physician.

“Don’t go.”

He was just like Nanyoung when he was very young, when he had first been given his own residence and was separated from his parents with only a nurse-court lady. Sim Eung’s heart melted in an instant.

“…If that is the case, then when you are unwell, you must tell me without fail. Would I not then fetch the physician at once?”

“I’m not sick. I’m not sick… It’s because of a dream.”

“You must have had a viciously terrible nightmare.”

“Was it a nightmare…”

Wanting to erase the landscape flickering before his eyes, Nanyoung squeezed his eyes shut. Even so, it only became deeper and more vivid. Startled, he curled up his body and trembled. Sim Eung looked ready to weep at the sight of the master he cherished more than his own life so frightened.

Nanyoung held tightly to Sim Eung’s hand and would not let go. If Sim Eung left his place to fetch someone, it felt as if someone would enter through the gap of that opened door.

The door opens a crack. Along with a creaking sound, a foot steps in. It is far larger than his own foot. And what it happens to be wearing is the black ceremonial robe he had worn for the wedding ceremony. Nanyoung cannot budge an inch on the bed, and that figure is slowly approaching him.

Not knowing whether he is waiting, or whether he wants to flee but cannot, Nanyoung merely keeps his eyes tightly shut. When the figure bends at the waist, Nanyoung catches the sharp scent of tempered iron that jolts the head awake, and a cold winter fragrance.

“Nephew.”

“…Huk.”

Nanyoung trembled violently.

Taerok, who had been looking down at this sight, straightened his bent waist.

“Since when has he been like this?”

“He, he came to my quarters last night, saying he had a nightmare. He commanded me not to call for anyone, so… Please put me to death!”

Even as he confessed this, Sim Eung was trembling. Taerok was someone who could truly kill. Not only Sim Eung but many eunuchs must have thought how fortunate it was that Taerok was not the King.

Fortunately, Taerok was not wearing any sword on his body. Sim Eung gulped down his saliva as he watched Taerok sit down obliquely beside Nanyoung. Even without a sword, Taerok’s hands, which could kill a man with strangulation alone, gently pressed down on Nanyoung’s disheveled chest. A clammy cold sweat was felt. It was fragile, like the breastbone of a bird. And it was hot.

“Call the physician, and if there is any needed medicine, go to the pharmacy and bring whatever is necessary.”

“Yes, yes!”

“I cannot let you die, having come all this way to a distant foreign land to see me.”

The voice uttering such terrifying words was indifferent. After Sim Eung rushed out as if a fire had been lit under him, Taerok bowed his head. He rested his own forehead against Nanyoung’s forehead. Indeed, the fever was severe.

“Are you running a fever of wisdom from merely seeing that? Did you eat up the age of fifteen for nothing?”

Nanyoung gave no answer. It was because he was pinned down by the gigantic shadow that had taken the shape of a man in his dream, unable even to breathe.

The acupuncture physician came. It was only after needles were inserted from his forehead down to the top of his foot that Nanyoung was finally able to catch his breath.

“He will need to eat something before he can take the herbal decoction.”

“Yes… Without that, he has on occasion complained of dizziness or heartburn, so…”

“He is a master who requires a great deal of tending. Is he not?”

Unsure whether those words were sarcasm or a genuine question, the eunuch chose silence instead. Because if it was Lee Taerok, the moment he said, ‘Indeed he is, sir,’ he was more than capable of retorting sarcastically, ‘Are you complaining that he is a difficult master to serve?’

When the physician returned and removed all the needles, Nanyoung languidly opened his eyes. Taerok bent his head and peered down at him. His reactions were still sluggish, as if his consciousness remained in a haze. Sim Eung’s voice, whimpering that he did not know what kind of dream could have been so terrible, merely brushed past Taerok’s ears.

Taerok found it amusing, and quite audacious to the point of being funny, that Nanyoung had used a dream as an excuse. At the small sound of Taerok’s laughter, Sim Eung’s head snapped up. So now that some time has passed, he’s no longer as endearing as before, is that it? Laughing when his nephew was ill—the nickname “the cold-blooded Grand Prince” was evidently still valid.

“Bring the thin rice gruel. I shall feed it to him myself.”

“Pardon? Yes…”

Sim Eung barely swallowed his complaint—Why do you wish to do it yourself? So that he might choke on it?—and withdrew.

Once the two were alone, Taerok pulled a chair right up beside Nanyoung and settled in.

“I thought you were all grown up, but you are still very young. Does saying you had a dream make what you saw disappear?”

“…”

Nanyoung merely looked at Taerok, blinking his hazy eyes.

“What. Do you think even I, as you see me now, am a dream?”

“…Are you not?”

“I am not. Perhaps you are confused because my manner of speech is like this, Nephew. We are both Grand Princes, just the two of us alone together; what harm is there in speaking informally.”

“You don’t seem like my uncle…”

“No. It was the image of me that you used to see that was unlike me.”

“Why… do you torment a woman so?”

“I was not tormenting her. It was good for both of us.”

“That… was good…?”

“You will know someday when you do it yourself, Nephew.”

So saying, Taerok stroked his chin. Even though Nanyoung was nearing young manhood, Taerok still could not imagine Nanyoung mingling bodies with a woman at all. It was still awkward and somewhat laughable.

“She was in pain…”

“That was not pain… At any rate, it was not that she was in pain.”

“Uncle… did you find pleasure in doing that?”

“Would I have done it if it were not pleasurable?”

Nanyoung tormented his own lips, already swollen from the fever, further with his teeth. Nanyoung, who had been gnawing at his heavily blistered lips, persistently, asked again. It was the most cautious and most dangerous question.

“You have held the wedding ceremony… It is a betrayal.”

At that, Taerok simply burst out in a loud, “Ahaha,” laughing.

How was he to explain to this child that it was not betrayal, but that on the contrary, he was being more faithful to his wife than anyone else?

In any case, even if he tried to explain now, he would not remember it well.

Just then, the eunuch entered. In his hands was a small brass bowl. Taerok extended his hand behind him and received it.

“You may stay out.”

“But, sir…”