Struggle Chapter 4

“…”

Nanyoung released the wooden sword with a thud the moment Taerok nodded. Taerok, who had been about to scold him that dropping a sword like that would damage its blade, fell silent at the sight of Nanyoung’s face drenched in sweat and tears.

“Oh dear, Young master.”

The eunuch rushed over with a fuss. Perhaps it was because he lacked his manhood, but he seemed so dramatic. The eunuch gathered Nanyoung in his arms and wrapped a cotton cloth soaked in white tea around his palms. As the eunuch whispered something to soothe him, Nanyoung turned his head from the eunuch’s embrace and looked up at Taerok. In that gaze was a petulant plea that said, I tried my hardest, but I am still disappointed.

Even though he had no intention of giving up first, despite his disappointment. Taerok chuckled. It was the first time he had smiled at Nanyoung without sarcasm.

The smile quickly vanished. Taerok spoke to the eunuch who was coddling Nanyoung.

“If you indulge every little whine like that, the day the young master holds his own sword will never come.”

“But is he not still very young…”

“At that age, I was already handling a real sword.”

That is you.

The eunuch muttered only inside his head.

The eunuch already knew well that from birth, Taerok had been significantly larger than his half-brothers and full brothers, had grown faster than anyone, had trained in martial arts sooner than anyone, and had left the palace early. And the eunuch had also caught on that Taerok was very cold, very ruthless, and cruel. Was this not a place where one survived by being quick to catch on? No matter if it was the command of His Majesty the King himself, the eunuch could not help but feel utterly uneasy and worried that the gentle and lovely young master was being entrusted to such an uncle.

“Young master, how long do you intend to rest? Or may this uncle take his leave from the palace now?”

“N-no!”

Nanyoung, who had been sniffling, suddenly forgot his true ally the eunuch and scrambled up out of his arms. “I will do it again!”

“No, do not do it if it is too hard. In any case, do you not have many people who will protect you, Young master?”

Already fed up, Taerok coaxed him gently. But to Nanyoung’s ears, that coaxing was not gentle in the slightest, nor was it charming. Rather, it sounded like taunting sarcasm. Well, he was not entirely wrong. Nanyoung was, after all, a clever boy.

“I want to become like you, Uncle!”

“Pfft.”

Saon barely managed to stifle the laugh that was about to burst out. The court ladies glared at him with frosty eyes as he covered his mouth. Glancing sideways at Saon, who was coughing dryly, Taerok looked down at Nanyoung and then let out a long sigh, “Hoo….” The reaction to his declaration of ambition was so decidedly unimpressed that Nanyoung’s cheeks slowly flushed red.

“…You will have to work very hard indeed, Young master.”

Taerok pressed down firmly on Nanyoung’s head. The rough touch fell away, so awkward it was embarrassing to even call it a stroke. The neatly combed and braided crown of his head sprang up curly. Realizing he had been teased, Nanyoung covered that spot with both hands, bit his lip, and did not know what to do with himself.

∞ ∞ ∞

A few days after hearing the shocking declaration that he wanted to become like his uncle, Taerok was not at the training grounds but in Nanyoung’s quarters.

He dismissed the court attendants, saying he would open the door to the inner chamber where Nanyoung slept himself.

It was three days ago that he had heard the news that Nanyoung was ill. His interest in Nanyoung’s condition had only arisen this afternoon. In the morning, he had had nothing to do and was utterly bored. He had woken so late it could be criticized by others as lazy. Upon opening his eyes, he had killed more time eating his morning meal without even changing out of his sleeping robe, and then he had asked:

‘Has there still been no word from the palace?’

There was no word. With no message coming, Taerok wondered if he should spend the rest of the day like trash worse than an idle loafer on the streets, but then rose from his seat.

Which meant that coming here had been an impulsive act.

When he opened the door, a warm milky scent greeted him. Did children’s sweat smell of milk? He had learned this for the first time. Amid the warmth, Taerok felt a breeze tickling his cheek. Turning his head, he saw the window was slightly ajar. Wasn’t it said that one should sweat out a fever? Taerok thought based strictly on his own standards.

It was autumn. The wind was still cold. After a moment of hesitation, Taerok left the window open to let the cold wind in and took a seat. The eunuch and court ladies here fussed over their master to a degree that Taerok found almost excessive. Surely they had not opened it intending for him to get worse. Having rarely ever been ill himself, Taerok had no choice but to assume they knew better than he did.

“…”

Though he was sick and one might expect him to whine, frown, and call out for his parents, Nanyoung was composed. It might also have been that he was suffering too much to have any energy left for such tantrums, but for now, Taerok decided to view Nanyoung sleeping quietly as composure.

“I will give you high marks for that, Young master.”

Taerok drew up one knee and rested his arm loosely over it. The wheezing breaths were quite loud. His nose might be stuffed.

“…”

Had he come for no reason? He had come out of boredom, but before a sick person, he was equally bored here. It was only natural, so he did not know why he had not thought of it before leaving the Grand Prince’s residence. It must have been because he had slept in far too late.

Taerok soon withdrew his attention from his nephew and looked around the room. Signs of careful attention were everywhere. Carp, wishing for long life and good health, were inlaid here and there.

“The actual carp would be bigger than that thing.”

Taerok muttered alone and chuckled. ‘That thing’ was, of course, Nanyoung.

Books were stacked as well. Though he was still young, there were books of a considerably high level. After flipping through them idly, Taerok quickly grew bored and rose from his seat.

He would have to leave. He should go hunting—after playing the role of teacher, which did not suit him at all, just to look after a child all this time, and now even that having stopped, he was so restless he was going mad.

Just as Taerok was about to turn away, Nanyoung, who had been quiet all along, tried to shift in his sleep, failed, and let out groans of discomfort. Whining came on top of it.

Frowning, Taerok flung the door open. But in the corridor, there was only the fragrant scent of pine and no one else. It was because he had ordered them to withdraw.

“Damn it all.”

Taerok clicked his tongue. He called out, “You there.” From afar, the stir of someone’s presence was heard. They would come soon, but Nanyoung bursting into tears was quicker. At the sound of crying, “Hwaaang,” Taerok pressed down on his brow and then came back to the bedding.

“Young master. Where do you feel unwell?”

It was an unreasonable question for a child. He was crying because he felt miserable being sick, yet he was being asked to explain where it hurt. Naturally, Nanyoung could not answer. It was doubtful whether he had even understood properly in the first place.

“I asked where it hurts.”

Taerok leaned closer and asked again.

Taerok smelled of the winter forest. Amid the seething, boiling fever, Nanyoung’s eyes flickered open at that cool, crisp scent.

A man like a mountain god was before him. Taerok and the king looked markedly different. Forgetting that this was his uncle, Nanyoung grasped Taerok’s fingers, murmuring “Mountain Lord, Mountain Lord.”

“My head hurts so much… Please make me better….”

At the tearful, pleading voice, Taerok was somewhat taken aback. What did he just say? Mountain Lord?

“Not the Mountain Lord, it’s your uncle.”

“Mountain Lord…”

“Young master, you do realize you are stubborn, do you not?”

Clicking his tongue, Taerok cradled the small, light, yet burning-hot head that said it hurt and nuzzled against his knee. The unbound hair spread out softly, and the milky scent grew even thicker. It was a fragrance Taerok did not like. Taerok liked the sweet, almost provocative scent of orchids. He preferred the mature over the green, and was drawn to crude blatancy over clumsy concealment. Nanyoung was at the opposite extreme, and while some of it might simply be his youth, there was a part of him that made Taerok wonder if he would truly change from how he was now even when he grew up.

Useless thoughts.

Just as Taerok had pulled Nanyoung onto his knee and propped up his head, the royal physician and the eunuch, who had been standing by, entered as if on cue.

The eunuch had been discussing Nanyoung’s condition through the night with the royal physician and had not even known Taerok was there. The reason the eunuch was slightly taken aback was that the person looking after Nanyoung was none other than Taerok, who seemed as though he would not shed a single tear even if his own family were ill.

“Where had you gone, leaving his side empty?”

Truly, he had never expected to hear such a reprimand from Taerok. Bending his waist, the eunuch replied dazedly, saying he was sorry.

Taerok told him never mind that and to just look after the child. Then he rose from his seat. Watching him prop up a pillow and stride to his feet, the eunuch grew even more bewildered.

“Are… are you leaving?”

“Of course. What would I do here?”

At that somewhat irritated retort, the eunuch was left utterly speechless.