Seon remained still, facing Kyeong'ui. "Your Highness," she said, "my brother is currently unconscious."
"I'm aware," Kyeong'ui replied. "I need to see him, to assess his condition myself."
"He wouldn't want you to see him like this," Seon countered.
Kyeong'ui bit her lip, suppressing her frustration. While she understood Seon's reluctance, a wave of anxiety washed over her. What is Ryang's condition if Seon is refusing to let me see him? But her concern for Ryang quickly turned to anger.
"And to whom does your brother owe his life?" she challenged.
Seon remained motionless, but Kyeong'ui pressed on. "Step aside."
Seon exhaled, a long, heavy sigh escaping her lips. Though Kyeong'ui was unaware of the circumstances surrounding Ryang's return outside the North Gate, she had, after all, mobilized her troops to search for him, pushing her soldiers to their limits. It was no surprise she now wielded her influence with such unwavering determination. Seon stepped aside, bowing her head in deference. "This way, Your Highness," she said, leading the way towards Ryang's chambers.
Inside, an eerie silence hung in the air. Ryang lay motionless on the bed, his face pale and drawn, barely recognizable. His eyelids, devoid of their usual vibrancy, concealed his once bright eyes. A bandage peeked from beneath the sheets, hinting at the wound that marred his shoulder. The sight of him, so vulnerable and still, filled Seon with a deep ache. She averted her gaze, unable to bear it. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Ryang's cold hand, a silent plea for his recovery. With a final bow towards Kyeong'ui, she excused herself, leaving them alone.
Kyeong'ui approached the bed, settling onto a nearby chair. "Lord Myeonghyeon," she called softly, her voice barely a whisper.
There was no response. She hadn't expected one, but the silence that followed her plea brought a wave of unexpected emotion. Her throat tightened, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Ryang's still form seemed to blur before her. Even in his unconscious state, he shivered occasionally, his body wracked with chills. His forehead was damp with sweat.
Kyeong'ui reached out, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his face. The dampness clung to her fingertips. A sad smile touched her lips as she gazed down at him.
"A scholar arrived from Sunyahng," she began, her voice soft and filled with a longing he couldn't hear. "You would've been so pleased to meet her. I even asked her to bring you gifts, a secret request from my father. She arrived with a treasure trove of knowledge. I could already picture your delight."
Silence met her words, a heavy quiet that amplified the emptiness of the room. Kyeong'ui felt a pang of sadness, a bitter amusement at her own desperate monologue. The carefully constructed walls around her emotions crumbled, and tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision.
"You asked me why I desired the throne," she whispered. "I haven't found a worthy answer yet, but... I wanted to tell you someday."
Her fingers, which had been tracing the lines of his forehead, now reached for his hand. It was burning hot, the calloused skin rough against her own. She felt the familiar grooves, the marks of an archer who'd spent countless hours wielding a bow. What has he aimed for, what targets has he sought? She longed to hear his stories, the ones he'd kept hidden.
"Please wake up," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "We have so much to accomplish together..."
Her voice, filled with a desperate longing, echoed in the silence, a stark contrast to Ryang's shallow breaths.
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Hongyoo, waiting outside, beckoned Seon with a subtle gesture. As she turned towards the library, U'nso, ever perceptive, caught her attention and whispered a warning.
"Are you sure it's wise to face him alone? He's dangerous."
"Don't worry," Seon dismissed.
She brushed past U'nso's concern and headed towards the library, leaving Hongyoo trailing behind. Inside, the silence stretched, the shelves lined with countless scrolls casting long shadows in the dim light. Seon waited, her patience wearing thin. Suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her. Turning, she found Hongyoo standing there.
"Explain yourself," he demanded sharply. "Who did this to Myeonghyeon Ryang?"
"It's none of your business," Seon retorted coldly.
Hongyoo scoffed. "Thanks to you, I'm tangled in this mess. I deserve to know what we're dealing with."
"This has nothing to do with you," Seon stated. "Your involvement is irrelevant. Let's be clear about who we're dealing with. Our agreement is with Sung, with your superiors, not with you. They make the decisions; you merely follow orders."
Hongyoo's brow furrowed. "Baek Ryucheon is not my superior."
"He seems to think otherwise," Seon countered with a smirk.
Seon's unwavering confidence piqued Hongyoo's curiosity. Ryucheon, before departing for Dong'gyeong, had shared limited information with him, leaving Hongyoo in the dark about the specifics of their agreement. Prolonging this conversation would only expose his own ignorance and lack of influence. He decided to provoke Seon, hoping to glean some valuable information.
"Would he maintain his support even if your brother were dead?" he challenged.
Seon bristled at his insinuation. "My brother is alive and well," she retorted. "Don't you dare speak such nonsense."
"I'm merely considering future possibilities," Hongyoo countered smoothly.
"It was I who persuaded Baek Ryucheon, not my brother," Seon declared.
"And you're confident he's on your side?" Hongyoo pressed.
"Judge for yourself," Seon scoffed. "But one thing seems clear. If you believed you could dispose of me and him, you wouldn't be here, wasting your breath on petty squabbles."
Seon's continued hostility only strengthened Hongyoo's suspicion that she knew the identity of Ryang's attacker. And it seemed likely the culprit was someone Dae-Sung wouldn't want to cross.
"Crystal Haze..." he mused, his voice low and thoughtful. "Whoever poisoned him must hold a deep-seated grudge. Even Mihn's physician wouldn't have access to such a rare toxin. His chances of survival are slim."
Seized by a sudden realization, Seon's eyes widened. "You have the cure, don't you?" she demanded, her voice laced with desperate hope. "The antidote!"
Hongyoo, momentarily caught off guard, scoffed. "Do I look like a physician?"
Seon, her usual composure shattered, pressed on, her voice rising with each word. "You gave me the antidote before! You must have dealt with this countless times!"
Hongyoo remained silent, but his smug grin betrayed his knowledge. Seon's suspicions were confirmed.
"You do have it, don't you?" she pressed again.
"Let's say I do," Hongyoo conceded. "Why should I help you?"
"We had a deal!" Seon reminded him.
Hongyoo's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Your brother's death would nullify that deal, and that's precisely what I desire. Besides, your agreement is with Baek Ryucheon, isn't it?"
"Hongyoo!" Seon's voice echoed through the room, her frustration reaching its peak.
Hongyoo's eyes narrowed, his gaze cold and menacing. "I warned you," he said. "You'll regret what you've done."
He turned to leave, but Seon lunged forward, grabbing his arm. "Tell me! Do you have the cure?!"
"Does it matter?" Hongyoo retorted. "Your brother's going to die regardless. And I won't lift a finger to help him."
Seon, abandoning her usual composure, clung to the sliver of hope Hongyoo offered.
"You have the cure, don't you? You can save him!"
"Even if I intervened, even if by some miracle he survived," Hongyoo sneered, "he'd be a shadow of his former self. You know the poison's effects. You sell it."
"I don't care," Seon pleaded. "Just save him. Please, I'll do anything. Anything."
"Anything?" Hongyoo's lips curled into a predatory smile. His eyes, half-hidden beneath heavy lids, bored into her, and Seon averted her gaze, unable to meet his intensity. He stepped closer, his presence looming. Seon instinctively retreated, her back pressing against the wall. Hongyoo reached out, his fingers brushing against her sleeve. In a flash, Seon drew her dagger, the blade aimed at Hongyoo's throat. He twisted away, narrowly avoiding the strike. With a swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back. Seon cried out in pain, her face contorted. Hongyoo pressed her against the wall, his other hand gripping her neck.
"Trying to kill me?" he taunted. "You're as foolish as ever. One wrong move, and you're dead. Haven't you learned anything?"
"Let me go, you bastard," Seon spat, struggling against his grip.
"Not bad with a blade, though," Hongyoo remarked, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
Seon's knuckles whitened as she gripped the dagger, the tendons in her hand and wrist standing out in stark relief. Hongyoo tightened his hold on her wrist, his grip like a vise. Seon gasped, a cry of pain escaping her lips as she finally dropped the weapon. Hongyoo leaned close, his voice a venomous whisper against her ear.
"You can't even keep your own promises," he sneered. "But it doesn't matter. Seeing your frustration, your anger... it's far more satisfying than forcing myself on some frigid whore."
His touch, unwelcome and predatory, sent a wave of revulsion through Seon, fueling her rage. His hot breath against her ear made her skin crawl. Trapped, unable to cry out for help, her fury simmered, her voice a low growl.
"Let me go!"
Hongyoo's laughter, silent and cruel, filled the room. He savored her struggles, her futile attempts to break free. Then, with a sudden shove, he released her, sending her sprawling against the wall. Seon gasped for breath, her body trembling with a mixture of pain and rage. Hongyoo watched, his lips curled into a mocking smile.
"You said you'd do anything?" he taunted.
Seon remained silent, her chest heaving as she cradled her throbbing wrist. Hongyoo's gaze, filled with disdain, raked over her.
"Some things can't be undone, even if you do everything," he said. "Consider this a lesson, in place of your dying brother."
Hongyoo brushed down his sleeves and strode towards the door. He paused, listening intently for any sound beyond the threshold. Then, with a swiftness that defied detection, he slipped out of the library, vanishing into the shadows.
Seon, her jaw clenched tight, fought to regain her composure. She smoothed down her rumpled clothes, her hands trembling with suppressed fury. The memory of that night in this very room, when Ryang, delirious with poison, had revealed Wicheong Palace to Hongyoo, flashed before her eyes. Though her own mind had been clouded at the time, she vividly recalled Ryang's voice, thick with shame and desperation. Would he have chased after Hongyoo now, begging for mercy?
No. She couldn't allow herself to break, not again. Anger, regret, and despair warred within her, a tempest of emotions that threatened to consume her. Tears streamed down her face, her body rigid, her hands clenched into fists. The throbbing pain in her wrist, the chill that seeped into her knees, it was all a testament to her helplessness, her powerlessness against the forces that sought to destroy them.