Carrying the Child of the Man Who Killed Me

A little over a month later, Yeocheong and Jihyuk set off on their journey, just as he had promised.

It was a quiet trip, not an imperial procession, so they could travel without fanfare. Throughout the journey, which lasted almost half a day, Jihyuk made sure that Yeocheong didn’t feel dizzy or unwell.

“Step down carefully, Bi.”

“Wow…”

Arriving at the retreat Jihyuk had mentioned just before sunset, Yeocheong couldn’t help but exclaim in awe as he stepped out of the carriage.

Although it was just past winter, the retreat seemed to be in full bloom. Flowers were everywhere, painting the landscape with vibrant colours.

The cloak that Jihyuk had carefully wrapped around Yeocheong felt almost too warm. It was amazing how different this place was, even though it was only half a day’s journey from their starting point.

“Seeing you so surprised makes all the effort worthwhile.”

Jihyuk said with a satisfied smile.

“You went to all this trouble?”

Yeocheong asked looking up at him.

“Oh dear, that was a slip of the tongue. It wasn’t any trouble at all.”

Jihyuk laughed playfully, his tone light. Of course, for someone of his status as a king, finding even a few days of leisure was no small feat. Yeocheong looked up at him, her expression tinged with guilt.

“If we’d waited a little longer, spring would have come to the Yeon Nation as well. You wouldn’t have had to go to so much trouble.”

“My patience isn’t that generous, so I had to resort to this.”

Jihyuk replied with a smile.

“Spring won’t arrive in Yeon for at least another month. By the time the flowers bloom there, I’ll have withered away.”

With a warm smile, he gently put an arm around Yeocheong’s shoulders, his words and touch radiating a warmth that rivalled the spring air.

“I wanted to show you a bit of spring.”

“I only have a day and a half at the most, considering the travel time.”

Jihyuk continued, his tone changing to one of feigned seriousness.

“With such precious time, we have to make every moment count, don’t you think?”

Before Yeocheong could answer, Jihyuk swept him off his feet and lifted him effortlessly into his arms. The retreat had been completely cleared for the two of them, offering privacy and peace.

Not wanting Jihyuk’s efforts to be overshadowed by unnecessary worries, Yeocheong met his gaze and smiled brightly. Jihyuk, looking up at him with a mixture of affection and mischief, leaned in and kissed his beloved.

***

With the flowers in full bloom and the warm weather enveloping them, the two spent a lazy afternoon on a boat gliding across a lake far larger than the one in the palace.

“Why is spring so early here?”

Yeocheong asked, his voice full of curiosity.

“This place is called Hwayang.”

Jihyuk explained, gently running his hand through Yeocheong’s hair. “The weather here is warmer than elsewhere and spring comes earlier. But because the temperature doesn’t vary much throughout the year, it’s not suitable for growing crops. A few years ago, the local administrator decided that if the land couldn’t be used for farming, it could be used as a retreat. That’s how it became what it is today.

Yeocheong reached over the edge of the boat and ran his hand through the water, creating small ripples.

“Whoever came up with this idea had excellent foresight. If such a beautiful place had been abandoned just because it couldn’t grow crops, it would have been such a waste.”

“Thanks to this decision, I was able to show you spring a little earlier.”

Jihyuk replied with a smile.

“That alone makes me grateful.”

Yeocheong smiled faintly but didn’t react immediately. He had never been particularly sensitive to the cold, but his health had changed. This winter, even the slightest chill had often made him shiver, and his coughing had become more frequent.

‘Even though it’s warmer here than it was in the Empire, my body still reacts this way. If I had stayed in the Empire, I probably would’ve spent the entire winter bedridden.’

With that thought, Yeocheong dipped his hand fully into the lake water, watching the gentle ripples it created. The cool touch of the water reminded him of his mother, who had always been particularly vulnerable to the cold.

‘I’m glad to hear you’re doing well. The Yeon Nation tea snacks you sent last time had such a unique flavor. They’re quite different from the ones here, and I found them intriguing.’

The letters exchanged once a month always contained brief mentions of daily life and assurances of well-being. But just as Yeocheong refrained from sharing his struggles in his letters, it was unlikely the Fifth Consort, his mother, would write openly about her own hardships.

‘She always seems to catch a bad cold around this time of year. The imperial physicians rarely visit the Fifth Consort’s quarters quickly enough…’

Last year, Yeocheong’s mother started coughing the day before he left Song Nation. She must have been bedridden for several days after he left. Thinking about her for a long time, Yeocheong murmured to himself.

“It would have been nice if I could have brought Mother here.”

“Your mother?”

Startled by the question, Yeocheong shook his head quickly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how she struggles during the winter.”

He spoke hesitantly, worried that his words might come across as a childish plea to bring his mother to the retreat.

‘He’s already managed to carve out some time to be here today. I can’t burden him with unnecessary worries. I must show my best self.’

Even if only for a few days, Yeocheong wished his mother could visit this place. But he knew that there would be many formalities involved in bringing her to Yeon Nation, and it seemed almost impossible to arrange for her to stay in Hwayang.

“Maybe we’ll bring your mother here one day.”

Jihyuk said casually, as if such concerns didn’t matter.

“She might not be able to stay for long, but a few months of rest should be possible.”

Surprised by his casual tone, Yeocheong hesitated before answering.

“But… the Song nation might not allow her to leave for such a long time. A short visit to the palace might be one thing, but to come all the way to Hwayang…”

“It’s something you want. Why should difficulties stop us? Even if it’s hard, we’ll do it.”

Jihyuk pulled Yeocheong closer as he spoke. Startled, Yeocheong found himself pressed against Jihyuk’s chest, unable to resist the sudden embrace.

“I wish time would stop like this. I wish I could just lie here with you forever.”

They lay on the boat, looking up at the sky. The trees of the Hwayang Forest stretched above them, filtering the sunlight and casting soft shadows. It felt as if time had actually stood still, enveloping them in a serene, perfect moment.

Yeocheong, nestled in Jihyuk’s arms, tilted his head to look up at him. Jihyuk, who had been staring at the sky, looked down at Yeocheong and gently ran a hand down his back.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

Jihyuk said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

“Why are you saying this?”

Yeocheong’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. He didn’t ask because he didn’t know the answer – he just wanted to hear it from Jihyuk’s lips, a small, selfish desire to be reassured.

“Ah, have I been so negligent that you don’t know the reason?”

“That’s not…”

“Then it must be all my fault. I will tell you again and again, as many times as you need.”

With a playful tone, Jihyuk tightened his embrace. Yeocheong’s head pressed against Jihyuk’s chest and he could hear the fast, steady beating of his heart.

“Yeocheong, because I love you.”

“…”

“I wouldn’t mind if time stopped right now, just like that.”

Hearing the answer he longed for, Yeocheong’s heart began to beat in sync with Jihyuk’s. A warm blush spread across his cheeks and he wished, just as Jihyuk had said, that this moment could last forever. Shyly, he buried his reddened face deeper into Jihyuk’s embrace to hide his expression.

“When spring comes to the palace and the weather gets warm, shall we put a boat on the lake at Wolha Palace?”

“That sounds wonderful. Before the summer heat makes the sun too harsh, we should make sure everything is ready before the flowers fade.”

Yeocheong smiled as he spoke, the warmth of the moment filling his heart. It was one of the most peaceful and precious times they had spent together.

***

“Did His Majesty say he was busy again today?”

“Yes. He said that when he has time he will come himself, so there’s no need for you to come unannounced until you’re summoned.”

Three months passed after this peaceful retreat. At first, Jihyuk had used the excuse of being busy, but as time passed, he began to avoid Yeocheong more openly. Eventually, two whole weeks passed without him even showing his face.

‘He always made time for me, no matter how busy he was…’

With growing unease, Yeocheong had gone to Jihyuk’s office only to receive a cold rebuff – not from Jihyuk himself, nor from an aide, but from a eunuch.

At first, Yeocheong feared that Jihyuk must be overwhelmed with work. But as the days went by, doubts crept in. Was he really too busy, or was he just avoiding Yeocheong because he did not want to see him anymore?

The question lingered, gnawing at him.

‘I always feared that happiness gained too easily could just as easily be lost…’

Yeocheong kept thinking about his actions, wondering if he had done something wrong. But no matter how hard he searched his memory, nothing stood out. Finally, he returned to Wolha Palace with no answers and no resolution.

“It’s been three weeks since I last saw His Majesty. Have I made a mistake?”

“No matter how much I think about it, I can’t imagine that you have.”

Yeon replied seriously.

“His Majesty hugged you so kindly that day before he left, didn’t he?”

Yeon and Sowol had put their heads together, trying to help Yeocheong piece things together, but they too came up empty. Yeon, her eyes filled with tears, spoke in a trembling voice.

“Your Grace, you are always so careful… I just can’t believe you could have done anything wrong.”

“But if I haven’t done anything wrong, then why… why is His Majesty acting like this?”

Before Yeocheong could finish, tears began to roll down his cheeks. He had tried so hard not to cry, to remain composed, but once the dam broke, the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Is it because I can’t give him a child? Or has he simply grown tired of me?”

“Your Grace…”

Yeon’s voice was soft, tinged with worry as she watched Yeocheong disintegrate before her eyes. Sowol remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together, the weight of their shared helplessness hanging heavily in the room.

Sowol gently lifted a handkerchief and wiped away Yeocheong’s tears. Yeocheong took it from her and continued to dab at the relentless stream running down his face.

“If it’s something I can fix with effort, I’ll do everything. But… if it’s something beyond my control, if he’s tired of me for reasons I can’t change, then what do I do?”

“But surely His Majesty wouldn’t depose you for that reason.”

Sowol said, her tone trying to sound reassuring.

“Even if I’m not deposed… what then…”

Yeocheong trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

‘How can I go on living without the warmth and love I’ve come to know?’

He lowered his head, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the room.

“Your Grace, please don’t cry. Everything will be all right.”

Yeon said, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her own eyes. She clung to Yeocheong, crying alongside him.

On any other day, Yeocheong would have been the one to comfort Yeon, but today he had no strength left to comfort anyone else.

Wolha Palace had many attendants, but Yeocheong could only really rely on Yeon and Sowol. Their support helped him hold on to his crumbling resolve, but the anguish gnawing at his heart was beyond anyone’s ability to fully soothe. With each passing day, his spirit grew more worn, more fragile, slipping further into despair despite their best efforts.

After that, Yeocheong visited Daeyeong Palace several times, and each visit ended with the same result – a formal decree of rejection.

Spring, which came a little later than in Hwayang, came and went. The flowers wilted and the season became too hot to float a boat on the lake, but Jihyuk never took the time to visit Yeocheong.

The small boat, which had been prepared and kept in an easily accessible place in case Jihyuk decided to visit, was eventually put into storage. Yeocheong got used to sitting alone, drinking tea in solitude.

Then, one night, when the palace was shrouded in darkness, Jihyuk finally came to Wolha Palace – the visit Yeocheong had longed for.

“…Your Majesty?”

The words slipped from Yeocheong’s lips as he stood, caught off guard by the unexpected arrival.

But the Jihyuk before him was no longer the man who had laughed with him by the lake, the one who had held him so tenderly. The Jihyuk who stood there now had a completely different demeanour, colder and more distant than ever before.