Struggle Chapter 52

What entered Nanyoung’s sight was not only the king’s feet. To the side, Taerok’s feet were visible. Black leather shoes, larger than his own.

And far across below, in the place of the junior officials, Sim Suhwan was watching Nanyoung in that state.

“…”

Sim Suhwan had believed that Nanyoung held a romantic love for the crown prince. Even after visiting the villa, though that belief had been somewhat shaken, it had not changed.

But I was foolish. Because he was too close, I could not see.

Sim Suhwan bit his lips tightly. The king, already ascending the throne, was not in his regard. Even though as a subject it was his duty to focus wholly on this moment and offer congratulations, he was looking only at Nanyoung.

And at Lee Taerok beside him.

“…I had it wrong.”

Since the summer retreat, he had been wandering the palace to meet Nanyoung, whom he had not seen. Though it was not the time, and though it was utterly cowardly, he did not want to miss this moment, which carried the pretext of wanting to comfort him.

Suhwan, who had known Nanyoung since before he left the palace and had spent time with him here, reckoned the places he might go. Nanyoung did not have the stamina to traverse this vast palace entirely. Strangely enough, Nanyoung’s body was weaker inside the palace. Here, in this place that had the most outstanding physicians in the country. Like a plant that had begun to wither because a shade had formed where there was none before. As such, the place Nanyoung mainly stayed was his own quarters. Because it was sufficiently large and always warm.

That was also the reason Suhwan went there first. Since no one used this place anymore, and since a tragic event had occurred in the palace, no people were to be seen. Perhaps two or three would be there, but each would be busy with their own tasks.

Though he felt like a thief, Suhwan decided to be a bit brazen. Because he had a premonition that if he did not, he would forever miss the chance to speak with Nanyoung again.

And it was there that Suhwan heard them. The sounds of Nanyoung and Taerok.

‘Never look at anyone with those eyes again.’

‘Ah… ah….’

‘Especially not men, all the more.’

‘Hu… ah, it hurts…’

It was unmistakably Lee Taerok’s voice. Though he could not be certain from the moans alone, the voice that followed was unmistakably Nanyoung’s as well.

Suhwan hurriedly turned his body and hid behind a pillar next to the door frame.

‘Answer me, Nanyoung. Before your uncle gets angrier.’

Suhwan knows that kind of voice. It is not that he has heard Lee Taerok sound like that before. It was the voice of a man fallen into violent desire. Excited, pleading, and wanting to press down at the same time.

‘Yes… ugh… I… will.’

On the other hand, Nanyoung’s voice was utterly plaintive. Suhwan clenched his teeth tightly. All this time, he had played the role of the uncle who held his nephew dear, had made all the world believe he simply doted on his nephew, and yet behind the scenes, he had been pressing him down like that.

I must save him.

Suhwan wanted to go inside right then and rescue Nanyoung. He was even daring to prepare to do so.

If it was Lee Taerok, that cold-blooded man, he would corner Nanyoung further in there. Who knew what more he might do.

Suhwan, clenching his fist, was just about to push his back off the pillar.

‘…Did I startle you.’

A low, soothing voice directed at Nanyoung was heard, a voice so different that the earlier one could not be recalled in the slightest.

‘I’m sorry, Young master. This was not the time for me to behave this way.’

He was comforting him. After having cornered him like that. After making him cry like that. It was like slapping someone and then asking if it hurt.

Yet, while feeling that Taerok was contemptible, Suhwan could not enter at once. Because just as Taerok had been violent moments before, he was now acting infinitely tender and affectionate. Not as an uncle, but as a man.

Soon, the sound of Nanyoung’s weeping burst forth.

‘Huh… hic, huh…’

‘You must be distressed at losing your father, and I behaved immaturely.’

His face felt hot. To hear a voice that was so intimately soothing.

‘It seems I am also that way from losing my brother.’

To dare… to dare to speak of the late king while treating his nephew like a lover.

Suhwan trembled with rage at Lee Taerok’s shamelessness, but at the same time, he was afraid.

Lee Taerok was not doing this while having forgotten, or trying to forget, the fact that he was Nanyoung’s blood relative. He was clearly aware of it. Knowing who his father was and who his brother was… yet he was saying such things and using such a voice toward his nephew.

Does Grand Prince Heonui truly not know? How telling a person not to look at other men with such eyes is a manifestation of primal jealousy and possessiveness. How childish and honest it is.

As if fleeing from something filthy, Suhwan escaped Nanyoung’s quarters. There was nothing more to hear. Vile, it’s vile. Not at any other time, but during the national mourning, how can this be?

Yet the face of Suhwan, shuddering in disgust, was flushed like a jujube, like someone witnessing a scandalous affair for the first time, and his groin, concealed beneath his clothes, was hard and hot like a piece of wood that had caught fire and been extinguished.

Vile, it’s vile….

Suhwan mutters inwardly and glares at the men above on the opposite side.

“Say you don’t know, and then I will save you….”

Suhwan, prostrating along with the senior officials, mutters. The voices crying “Long live, long, long live,” hailing the new king, drown out Suhwan’s voice.

Amidst those voices is Nanyoung. Nanyoung cannot bear the distraction of his quiet uncle beside him.

“…”

In the end, Nanyoung cannot help but turn to the side. And his eyes meet Taerok’s, who is looking at him as if he had been waiting.

Nanyoung stares at his uncle, then coldly turns his head away.

Above their heads, petals began to fall. It was the crape myrtle. A tree planted in abundance in the main hall where the king resides. In full bloom, the blossoms blow all the way here with the wind. As it happened to be the tree the late king loved, not only the civil and military officials but also Nanyoung’s brother, who had become the new king, lifted his head to the sky.

“…”

How riotously must they have bloomed to fly so abundantly…. Nanyoung absently reached out his hand, but the petals scattering in the wind could brush against his palm, yet they never stayed.

“…”

As if disappointed, as if resigned, Nanyoung lowered his hand and his gaze, and a hand touched his cheek. Startled by the light touch, Nanyoung turned. Taerok’s hand was right before his nose. At his fingertips, he held the petal that had been clinging to Nanyoung’s cheek. It had not stayed on his palm but had secretly come to rest on his cheek alone, only to be discovered by his uncle’s hand.

“His Majesty the late king.”

He must be reverent. He must call him by his posthumous title. But Taerok whispered so that only the two of them could hear. Even if Nanyoung declared he would no longer see him, this was, after all, a moment for sharing unavoidable family grief.

“Paused on your cheek before departing. Nanyoung.”

You and I are an unavoidable bond. A bond connected by blood. Because we are blood relatives.

∞ ∞ ∞

After returning to his own palace for the first time in a long while, Nanyoung only sought sleep as if he were dead. No matter how much they woke him, telling him he must eat at each mealtime, he did not listen. Nanyoung only tossed and turned occasionally, but generally just curled up as if dead and sought sleep.

And when he woke, four days had passed in a blur. The sun was at its zenith. It was a wretched state for a Grand Prince, who must be an example to others and show discipline.

Having slept too long, Nanyoung swayed briefly. He had come out forgetting his outer coat and wearing only his inner robe. The sunlight he had not seen in a long time stung his eyes. His head throbbed, so he made a visor with his hand to shade his eyes. Absently, he looked at the sky and felt dizzy.

“Young master? When did you rise?”

Sim Eung, dressed in white, discovered Nanyoung on his way, motivated solely by the thought that even if his master did not wake, he must still attend to him as always.

Nanyoung had become even paler than usual. It was to be expected, as he had done nothing but sleep. Since he had barely eaten, it was also to be expected that the cloth wrapped around his exposed wrist had loosened.

Leaning slightly against a pillar, Nanyoung asked.

“Uncle?”

“Pardon?”

Nanyoung was not yet fully awake. He was asking absently, like in a dream, not even realizing what he was saying.

“Uncle didn’t come?”

“Had he promised to visit?”

“No, he didn’t send word eith…”

Nanyoung, who had been frowning and rubbing the back of his head against the pillar, suddenly opened his eyes wide. He had finally realized that he had been talking in his sleep-dazed state.

“No. I was… I was…”