Struggle Chapter 79

“I didn’t know before, but having parted and seeing you from a distance now, you truly are a strange person. You said that since it’s a sin, I should think it through properly—and yet now here you are saying you thought as much. I don’t understand what you were hoping for, so let me ask—were you hoping for this?”

“How could I have hoped for this? I merely thought that even if our relationship could bring nothing but harm, in the end it would somehow remain entangled.”

Nanok smiled faintly.

“Among butchers, actors, and shamans—those considered lowly—I, like the shamans, can see certain things quite well, Grand Prince.”

Taerok furrowed his brow. His expression was one of bewilderment.

“For a noblewoman to see spirits—how dreadful. I have endured harsh things. That is why I have no lingering attachment to my family. Believing in the Heavenly Lord has helped somewhat, but I still see things.”

“Nonsense.”

Taerok snapped.

“Not only do you believe in absurd things, but you also speak nonsense.”

“If you see it that way, I would rather be grateful.”

Nanok laughed softly. Taerok’s cold indifference and his almost stubborn self-conviction were rather comfortable for Nanok.

As she put on the hat she had been holding, Taerok asked.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes. And on my way, I wish to see someone.”

“Who….”

Taerok, about to ask, caught on and frowned.

“Don’t stir up trouble with that child unnecessarily.”

At his sudden threatening shift to a condescending tone, Nanok only pressed her hat down further.

“He might let me in, you know.”

“I will not permit it.”

“On what grounds?”

“How can you go to a man’s house at this deep hour of the night?”

“Do you not trust your nephew?”

Damn it, truly—if this marital bond had continued, they would have loathed and torn at each other and more. They were incompatible. Taerok gritted his teeth.

“As an elder, it is also unacceptable.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Just moments ago you treated Grand Prince Heonui like a grown man, and now you treat him like a child unworthy of discerning right from wrong.”

“Min Nanok, do not test my patience any further. The respect I hold for the bond we once shared has its limits.”

“Your Highness.”

Nanok lowered her voice and asked in a grave tone.

“Do you also press your nephew in this manner?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“If you were merely an elder of the royal clan, that might be so. But if the two of you are not simply royal kin and blood relations, then I am concerned for Grand Prince Heonui. He is still young and tender, is he not? What if he breaks or is crushed under the weight….”

A crashing sound rang out. Taerok’s hand had struck the paulownia cabinet fiercely. Paulownia wood, as it ages, absorbs oil, gains luster, and grows harder. It had been fitted together when Taerok left the palace, so it would have been extremely sturdy—yet at the swing of his hand, a crack split through it with a sharp crack.

“Once is enough for meddling between that child and me with idle words.”

“It’s not my words that have stirred things up, is it? Wasn’t it Your Highness who already had feelings from the beginning? If you need a pretext, if you need an excuse—then speak honestly. And if Grand Prince Heonui says he fears this relationship and does not want it, if he says he wishes to leave, I will dare to help him.”

“Nanok, by what power?”

Taerok strode closer. He was an overwhelming man. Even Nanok, who had been holding her own all along, was momentarily breathless. She could now understand just how indifferent Lee Taerok had been to her, and how much unintentional consideration she had received because of it. His glaring eyes gleamed like a yaksha’s; his spirit and bearing were like a tiger made not of fat but of pure muscle.

“Meddling has its limits. How much you loathe your father and your family is none of my concern. Even if you feel guilt when everything falls apart, that too is not my affair. But conversely, if that is not painful for you, I can create something painful and unbearable for you in any way possible.”

“…”

“So do not stir up Nanyoung—leave.”

“…You are afraid.”

Nanok managed to lift the corners of her mouth. Even knowing it was bravado, the fact that Taerok had been shaken gave her a faint sense of finding a way forward.

“The Heavenly Lord does not turn away a returning sinner. If Grand Prince Heonui wishes to stop, helping him is the right thing for me. Yet from what I see, Your Highness is afraid of that.”

“…”

“Falling into the abyss together with your nephew—is that your dream, Your Highness?”

Taerok’s eyes, which had been churning like a storm, suddenly subsided. In an instant, they grew calm, dry without a trace of moisture. Then slowly, he bent down and whispered into Nanok’s ear.

“Even if that were so, the one to hear it should be Lee Nanyoung, not you.”

“…”

And Taerok promptly straightened his back.

“Do as you please.”

His tone was as unbridled as that of a commoner.

“No matter what answer she gives, Lee Nanyoung will never set foot outside the four great gates of this capital.”

Taerok reached out and flung the door wide open. Behind it, a fierce wind howled. Nanok, almost as if bewitched by the wind, stepped back a pace without realizing it.

“Do you know? A Grand Prince cannot leave the capital without the King’s permission.”

Smiling faintly, Taerok was beautiful, elusive, and chilling.

“If I become King and make it so that Nanyoung can never leave the capital, then my nephew will have no choice but to go with me. Whether that place is the abyss or anywhere else.”

Nanok’s face twisted.

“…Truly, as a husband, you are a terrible person.”

“That is why you left as well, isn’t it, wife. We were never a good match. As for harmony, I will work that out with my nephew.”

“…”

“Since we are no longer husband and wife, and you are no longer dressed as a wife, I will speak frankly.”

Taerok grabbed the door handle and spat shortly.

“Stop thinking useless thoughts and get out of the capital.”

As the door opened, Nanok stepped backward. The moment she crossed the threshold and was fully pushed out onto the outer veranda, she suddenly transformed from Min Nanok into a man wearing a dragon robe and an official’s cap with winged wings.

“…”

Taerok looked coldly at Nanok, who had instantly become his elder brother and the late King, Yi Gwon.

“Even though this is not the palace, this is still the residence of a royal descendant—how dare a specter cross into it.”

“Is there such a specter that can take the form of a king?”

It was unmistakably Yi Gwon’s voice. Taerok let out a laugh that might have been an annoyed sigh or a groan.

“If so, did you, Brother, come all the way here in person to rebuke me?”

“Taerok.”

“I ask you: have you come to reproach me for coveting your beloved second son?”

“Lee Taerok.”

Taerok turned around. He drew the sword he had set behind the folding screen. He aimed its tip at his elder brother with sorrowful eyes—at whatever was imitating his brother. From the honed blade, a sharp, fishy chill that seemed capable of splitting even breath itself emanated.

“I know well that you made efforts to foster affection among blood kin. So in the end, things turned out as you wished—then why do you appear before me?”

“…”

“Do not look at me with those eyes.”

Taerok frowned.

“It is not fitting for a king to show weakness. In truth, I wanted to say this even when you were alive.”

Somehow, the hilt of the sword he gripped felt hot. Taerok adjusted his hold. Autumn was already ripening, yet he did not know why he was sweating as if it were hot.

“As you wished, affection—yes, it has grown. I will even give you obsession. Even without being told, even without being wished for, I intend to do so.”

The moment when young Lee Nanyoung had grasped his finger came to mind. Taerok shuddered, as if that finger were grasping him right now.

“That child chose me!”

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Taerok spat out like a groan.

“It wasn’t that I chose—that child chose me…!”

His breath came short. Taerok staggered backward. He raised his sleeve to cover his face and coughed violently. By then, Yi Gwon, standing at the threshold, did not step further in—only gazed at Taerok with an inexplicably sorrowful expression.

“I could kill another son and take him. I could spare another son and take him… Damn it….”

His vision narrowed and widened in alternation.

“Lee Nanyoung—I must have him.”

“…”

“Was it not me that he clutched at his first birthday?”

And then came the sound of something cracking apart.

“Your Highness!”

Taerok vaguely opened his eyes.