Struggle Chapter 5

Taerok, who could shoot a bow well, swing a sword well, and possessed a ferocious temper, indeed had nothing to do here. Just then, the royal physician, who had been placing needles into Nanyoung’s blood vessels, asked, “Pardon? Lord Grand Prince, what did you just say?” At that sound, Taerok turned his head as well.

“Uncle… do not go.”

The eunuch felt such a pang of heartache and pity that he let out a lament of “Oh dear.” But that cold-blooded man, Taerok, did not so much as blink.

Even to his own flesh and blood, his blood ran so cold. The eunuch, his head still bowed, glared sideways.

Yet, if Saon had been there, he would have been surprised instead. Regardless of what Nanyoung said, going on his way was Taerok’s original nature. Simply stopping on the path he was taking was already different from his usual self.

“I keep seeing frightening things… They must be the things Uncle… spoke of…”

“It is because your fever is high and you are seeing illusions.”

Or he was making excuses because he was lonely.

This latter possibility was far more likely, Taerok thought coldly.

The eunuch Sim Eung, who had long attended Nanyoung and was watching Taerok as he acted this way, ground his teeth inwardly, thinking, look at that cold-blooded wretch.

“But still… they are lunging at me…”

Nanyoung gazed at Taerok with brimming eyes. It seemed that having been administered some needles had cleared his vision. Taerok eyed the royal physician with interest. Quite skilled—he would have to remember him.

And whether Taerok looked at him or not, Nanyoung, who had been showered with all manner of love since birth, pestered him just as he had been raised to do.

“It seems to me… I would be far less frightened… if Uncle would stay by my side…”

Please stop, Lord Grand Prince. That one is cold-blooded. Ice water flows in place of blood, and cold bones sit in place of ordinary ones. Hoping that his master would not be hurt, the eunuch approached and tried to soothe and coax him. He would stay by the young master’s side. Or should he call for a court lady who was good at telling stories? Listening to such cajoling, Taerok was utterly dumbfounded.

“Speak plainly.”

Taerok turned his steps back. The reason was simple. He wanted to tease the eunuch a little—the one who openly disliked him and fretted anxiously about what might become of the young child he served. Sure enough, as Taerok approached Nanyoung’s side again, the eunuch gasped, “Heek,” in fright. Taerok sat down right beside Nanyoung’s head and, as if stealing, took the small hand, like a bracken fiddlehead, from the eunuch’s grasp. It was damp and hot. By no means a pleasant sensation.

“Speak plainly. Do not trail off at the ends of your sentences, but state what it is you desire outright. If you do not, I will not grant it and will pretend not to know your true feelings to the very end.”

In reality, it was a scathing criticism aimed at his maternal uncle and maternal grandfather, but Nanyoung, whose fever had risen and made him more innocent than usual, did not grasp that hidden intent. He only understood the first thing that had been said: to speak plainly.

Nanyoung liked his uncle. His imposing figure, as steadfast as a great mountain; his fine, stately features, more distinguished than anyone else in the palace; even the scent of the winter forest that came from him… Truly, he was an existence to look up to, a model of the kind of man he wished to become. And besides… he saw him almost every day. The palace was far too vast and empty for him. A person he could see every day, who was warm, who did not need to use honorifics towards him, and who had no reason to be ill at ease around him.

And so, he would do as his uncle taught. Nanyoung gently squeezed Taerok’s hand. The strength was barely enough to tickle. Taerok did not like ticklish things, so his eyebrows angled askew.

Regardless, Nanyoung once again made his request in a tender, wavering voice.

“Please stay by my side… until I fall asleep again.”

It might even have been a demand.

Displeased that he had ended up taking a seat just to tease a mere eunuch, Taerok clicked his tongue. The eunuch’s expression was quite impudent. You heard him, didn’t you? Surely you aren’t going to leave now? Such sentiments were written plainly on his face. Had he been someone under Taerok’s command, he would have long since been demoted or met his end. Taerok wondered what on earth this tiny thing could be, for the eunuch to cherish him enough to be so impertinent. Just what was it that everyone found so adorable…

The condition, which had briefly improved, worsened again when the needles were removed and moxibustion was applied. His face contorted, and tears streamed down silently. Just moments ago, he had been whining, and Taerok had wondered if he should indulge it all, but this was a sight different from what he had expected.

“He endures rather well.”

At his muttered words, the eunuch answered without realizing it.

“It is because he falls ill often. To the lower servants, he dislikes showing his distress, and to those above him…”

His hesitation was enough for Taerok to make an accurate guess.

“It must be that because he is confined to his sickbed too often, no one listens anymore.”

“…His Highness is by no means one to exaggerate his illness or act thus.”

So when he finally did speak, it would be after enduring and enduring. Still, it must have happened more often than with others, and gradually visits grew infrequent. He feared disappointment and dreaded the thought that he might be a burden.

It was understandable.

“And so, at some point, must he not have begun to endure in that manner?”

The eunuch murmured, unable to tear his gaze from Nanyoung.

At those words, Taerok looked at Nanyoung again. He was very small. He was clearly smaller than others his age. Moreover, he fell ill often. By Taerok’s standards, he amounted to nothing more than a genuinely useless, cumbersome existence. To think such a thing was his nephew—it was almost unbelievable.

However, his strong endurance, his ability to exercise restraint, and his capacity to conceal—even in Taerok’s eyes, these were commendable. They pleased him.

“Hmm.”

Letting out an odd sound, Taerok wrapped his chin with his index and middle fingers and propped it up. The eunuch was taken aback, for the expression Taerok wore as he gazed at Nanyoung seemed refreshingly bright in a way he had never seen before. Sim Eung had entered the palace long before he ever came to serve Nanyoung, had spent his entire life within the palace, and was older than Taerok. It meant he knew with what sort of disposition Taerok had been born and raised.

And so he thought that the reason Taerok wore such a bright expression was that he was enjoying his nephew’s illness.

‘Cold-blooded wretch! A man who wouldn’t shed a single tear even if his own family died!’

It is said that people even curse the king when he is not present, so what harm was there in stating a plain fact within his own mind? The eunuch, at least, kept his expression immaculately concealed as he picked up the basin and rose from his seat.

“I shall go and change the water.”

“Do as you please.”

Taerok waved his hand. The eunuch crossed the threshold with quick, short steps. Just before the eunuch closed the sliding paper door, Taerok asked:

“Is that window kept open all this time?”

“Ah… When his fever climbs very high, we leave it open. They say if a high fever persists for a long time, it can cause permanent harm to the body…”

“I see.”

So even a fever could permanently damage the body. Finding it both slightly intriguing and amusing, Taerok let out a dry, humorless laugh. At that sound, the small, soft hand wrapped around his finger flinched.

“A body that seems as though merely pressing it would leave a handprint forever.”

It was the softest and most fragile thing Taerok had ever touched. Nanyoung was.

∞ ∞ ∞

By the time Nanyoung had risen from his sickbed, the rumor that ‘that Taerok was not entirely a man without blood or tears, and that he seemed to find his own nephew quite endearing’ had spread beyond the palace and even reached Taerok himself. His reaction to it was this:

“Everyone must truly have nothing to do.”

Saon found Taerok’s reaction unexpected.

“Viewed from any angle, it seems a rumor you would find displeasing; will you truly just let it be?”

“It does me no harm, so why should I bother?”

“Ho-oh… So it seems that even ‘that Grand Prince Baekan’ does, in fact, find his nephew lovely.”

Instead of answering, Taerok shaved the shaft of a bow. It was the task of standing it upright in the air and carefully checking its shape. He intended to go hunting before winter arrived. Saon’s words merely brushed past Taerok’s ear, but even so, he considered it just a little. Did he dote on him because he was his nephew? But the entire premise was wrong. If he found nephews endearing, then he would have to feel the same way about the Crown Prince. However, the Crown Prince was outside Taerok’s interest. Not merely outside his interest, but to a degree that was rather irritating.

And furthermore, he did not dote on Nanyoung either. He had gone to the palace out of boredom, and when the child whined, he had merely watched over him a little before coming back. That was all. To make such a fuss over so little, calling it endearing and cherishing—it even made him sarcastically curious what sort of rumors would spread if he ever truly set his mind to doting on him.

“Shall I really try it once?”

The sight of Taerok, laughing lightly without a single sincere feeling welling up from his heart, was akin to someone poking a beehive out of mere curiosity.

“He was whining quite a lot. With only people around him who coo over him and indulge him because they find him so pitiful, the child runs about laughing ‘hee-hee,’ unable to distinguish heaven from earth and thinking everything is wonderful.”

“Oh dear. That is exactly the kind of disposition you, Lord Grand Prince, utterly despise. Yet the world calls such a disposition lovable, they say… Oh dear!”