Struggle Chapter 80

“Your Highness! Please wake up at once!”

The room was filled with acrid soot. Taerok, roused by the strength of the eunuch who had served him until such old age, managed to lift himself. But he soon staggered.

“Your Highness! The ondol has broken and caught fire. You must get out!”

It was the smoke that provoked coughing fit to make him retch, and the flames that had made him break into a cold sweat even in autumn. Taerok rose, stumbling. He had no choice but to lean on the eunuch’s aged body. In the midst of his confusion, he suddenly turned around.

On the floor lay the gourd-shaped jade ornament.

There were far more precious things here than that ornament. Yet Taerok grasped it and shuffled outside.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!”

Saon, too, was just running over. He came straight up without fearing the flames, took Taerok from the eunuch, and supported him.

Once outside, a servant ran up and offered water kimchi. To clear the smoke, Taerok drank the salty, tangy liquid and handed it back.

The underlings and male servants were moving water to extinguish the fire, while the female servants and the older ones were drawing water.

“Fortunately, the fire was discovered quickly. It won’t be necessary to summon the fire brigade.”

“…Hurry and put it out so it doesn’t spread to the civilian houses.”

“Yes, sir…. However, Your Highness, you have breathed in heavy smoke, so it would be best to call a physician….”

“No. Do not concern yourselves with me.”

Taerok wiped his face with a coarse cotton cloth draped over a water bucket.

“It can be put out without spreading into major damage, correct?”

“Yes…!”

Saon answered Taerok’s question without hesitation.

As the eunuch had said, it was discovered quickly, and even if not as large as the palace, this residence was so vast that the fire would not spread to other buildings. Though it wasn’t enough to call the fire brigade, he had already sent word there, so he could confirm it.

“Then I—”

Taerok, who had been staggering, soon straightened his back and turned around.

“Shall take temporary refuge at my nephew’s residence.”

Even after enduring a situation where his life might have been lost if only a little later, only one thing came to Taerok’s mind. No, from the very beginning, it had been only that.

∞ ∞ ∞

Before crossing the main gate, Taerok stood still, holding his forehead, and cooled his heat. Though he had acted composed, inside he was seething. Slowly lowering his hand from his forehead, he gently rubbed his chin. Lost in thought, he tied the hem of his overcoat and strode outside.

Since the civilian houses had been cleared at some distance beyond his own residence, the small fire that broke out in the inner guest quarters of the main building was not enough to affect the area beyond the wall. After walking a while, the world was quiet and dark, as if nothing had happened. The bell tolled announcing the hour of Hae (between 9 and 11 PM), when patrol officers would begin their street curfew. In any case, his identification tag allowed him to go anywhere in the capital except the palace. Despite his unceremonious appearance, Taerok headed toward Nanyoung’s residence.

Taerok looked not at the main gate but at the wall, and grabbed the roof tiles. The beautiful flowering-wall was high enough to fully conceal an average grown man, but for Taerok, it was not insurmountable. Grabbing the tiles and pressing his feet against the wall, he lightly vaulted over. Taerok was turning his nephew—an elder and a Grand Prince—into a thief.

The one who happened to encounter Taerok just as he had crossed the wall was Sim Eung, who was about to leave the palace.

“Oh, no—Grand Prince!”

Sim Eung clutched his heaving chest and staggered backward, stumbling. Brushing his garment lightly as if it were nothing, Taerok offered an apology that was hardly an apology.

“I nearly startled an old eunuch into falling over.”

“B-but why over the wall….”

Sim Eung stammered, gesturing frantically between the perfectly good main gate and the wall Taerok had just climbed over.

“There’s no need to trouble the servants unnecessarily, is there.”

Taerok approached Sim Eung. The closer Taerok came, the more he seemed like a massive shadow—thump, thump—like a dark specter that would eventually devour a person, making Sim Eung’s knees tremble.

“I merely came to see my nephew.”

Taerok’s hand landed on Sim Eung’s shoulder.

“There’s no need to make a fuss….”

“…”

“Is there. Over such a trivial matter.”

Sim Eung’s heart, far from calming, beat even more wildly.

A trivial matter—merely coming to see his nephew—none of it sounded trivial or merely anything at all. Was it just his imagination, his delusion? In his startled state, he was assigning meaning even to insignificant words.

“So pay me no mind, withdraw to your quarters, and rest comfortably in the warm spot.”

Sim Eung swallowed a dry gulp. His throat felt raw and seemed to shrivel up.

Taerok brushed past Sim Eung.

For an instant, a familiar scent arose. Sim Eung realized it belatedly. It was the scent of the sachet that Taerok had sent down years ago, saying it was for his nephew. With his keen nose, Sim Eung could be certain that this scent was identical to that sachet.

Moreover, he even recalled that after the sachet had been changed at some point, the same scent had subtly emanated from the Grand Prince again. It was not simply imparted to his clothes through incense-fumigation. It had been transplanted deep into the very essence of his being.

“Grand Prince….”

Anxiety, like a vine made of mold, crept up from the old eunuch’s soles. It climbed, weaving its way up, licking even his crown. Sim Eung stared blankly, murmuring “Grand Prince”—and even he could not tell whether it referred to Lee Taerok or Lee Nanyoung.

Because it might very well be the two of them.

∞ ∞ ∞

Overwhelmed by Taerok’s imposing presence, Sim Eung failed to say that Grand Prince Heonui had already retired early, so Taerok ended up rousing the sleeping one.

At the creaking sound of the door opening, Nanyoung blinked. But with his body more than half asleep and the room dark, it was nearly impossible to grasp the situation quickly.

“Sim Eung…?”

The figure standing still, like a dark shadow about to devour Nanyoung, suddenly lunged forward and covered him. Nanyoung struggled against the heavy, solid body that gripped him tightly. He thought it was an intruder.

Unable even to scream, Nanyoung flailed in fright—until he came to his senses at the low voice that reached his ears.

As if doused with ice water in midwinter, his mind snapped awake. Only then could Nanyoung smell the acrid smoke odor emanating from Taerok.

“Fire…?!”

It was so pungent, as if he had just come out of a fire pit, that Nanyoung pushed the other away again. What came back was a fierce voice and an even stronger embrace.

“Stay still!”

Those words bound Nanyoung like ropes.

Uncle…? Why did his uncle reek of harsh soot as if just out of a fire, why had he suddenly burst in at this deep hour—Nanyoung simply could not move a muscle. Taerok’s heart was also pounding fiercely, and Nanyoung’s was the same.

Moreover, this burnt odor—it felt like embracing a heavily charred piece of wood. With no way of knowing that a small commotion had occurred at the residence where Taerok stayed, Nanyoung could only feel the raw unease.

As time passed, just as the eyes grow accustomed to darkness… Nanyoung’s startled heart also began to calm.

However, soon the hands groping his body made his eyes snap open. His eyes had grown used to the dark, so he could see—if not everything, at least something.

“…Who are you.”

Yet Nanyoung swallowed dryly and asked. As if he knew nothing, as if he had not properly heard the voice.

“…”

Taerok did not answer.

Instead, he covered Nanyoung’s eyes. Hidden within the unseen field of vision, Taerok pressed his index finger to his lips and whispered, Shh.

With just that sound alone, Nanyoung could recognize Taerok, could understand—but today, he pretended otherwise.

Taerok tugged at Nanyoung’s garment with one hand. The rustling sound of fabric rubbing together was akin to the sound of thighs rubbing as if trying to quell excitement by pressing legs together.

“Hh….”

His lips grew dry of their own accord. Nanyoung licked his lips, but they quickly dried again.

Taerok parted Nanyoung’s inner jacket and withdrew his hand. Bowing his head, he pressed his lips against Nanyoung’s chest, which still seemed to carry a milky scent.

In the silent room, the sound of water droplets reached Taerok’s keen ears. He quietly lifted his gaze. From the muttering sound, it was clearly raining. Dampening the eaves, riding down the roof tiles, falling to the ground—that kind of rain….