Chapter 54
An Uncomfortable Place
“What did you just say?”
Gyeom looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
And for good reason—Danseol had always looked uneasy whenever she saw him shirtless. She would avert her gaze, flinch awkwardly whenever their skin brushed, and act like even proximity itself was embarrassing.
So for her to suddenly ask him to undress first—of course, he was shocked.
“I said, please take off your clothes.”
At her words, Gyeom’s brow tilted sharply, suspicion flickering in his eyes. He still didn’t seem convinced.
“If I’m going to treat you, I need to see how bad the injury is, don’t I?”
“Ah. Right.”
Her calm tone made him turn his head away with a cough. He felt foolish for having misunderstood her intention.
“It doesn’t look too serious. The pain seems to have subsided since earlier.”
“Even so, I’ll need to examine the wound properly.”
Danseol, unusually insistent today, left Gyeom no choice but to start taking off his clothes, one layer at a time.
As the fabric fell away and his bare body was revealed, Danseol flinched slightly—but unlike before, she didn’t avert her eyes.
‘This feels… strange.’
The sensation of her gaze tracing his body was oddly ticklish, almost unbearable.
“I’ll have a look, just for a moment.”
She asked softly, stepping closer until she was right in front of him, then reached out with care.
“It looks like this area took the impact when you fell from your horse.”
Her long, slender fingers brushed against the left side of his abdomen—the very spot that had throbbed whenever he moved.
As her pale hand touched the sore flesh, the pain melted away as if by magic. Instead, warmth began to bloom beneath her fingertips.
“Does this hurt?”
She pressed lightly on the bruised area.
“Not sure.”
His answer was vague.
“What about here?”
“Still not sure.”
Again, his response was the same.
Danseol prodded a few more spots, but his answers didn’t change.
“Your Majesty, please tell me honestly if something hurts or feels uncomfortable. I can’t treat you properly otherwise.”
“You sound as though you think I’m teasing you.”
“…Aren’t you?”
Her direct gaze met his.
In truth, she was upset. She was trying—truly trying—to repay his kindness, but his flippant attitude made it feel as if he didn’t take her efforts seriously.
“And if I’m not?”
“Then please, tell me where it hurts.”
Her bold reply drew a dry laugh from him. But then, suddenly, his expression hardened. In one swift motion, he caught her wrist and pulled her closer.
“W–what are you—!”
“Here.”
He guided her hand firmly to his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Through her palm, she could feel the violent pounding of his heart.
“This is where it’s uncomfortable.”
When Danseol tried to pull away, he only pressed her hand tighter against him.
“Whenever I look at you, this place tingles, aches… sometimes it feels like it’s about to burst, like right now.”
“……”
“You wanted the symptoms—now, treat them.”
Her eyes trembled. The steady throb of his heart pulsed against her hand until her palm tingled.
She couldn’t say a word.
Was he making a cruel joke—or was he completely serious? She couldn’t tell.
Or perhaps she didn’t want to know.
After all, Lee Gyeom was the man who had killed her parents and destroyed her homeland.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“Because…”
Her dry tongue moistened her lips.
“…because I don’t know how to treat Your Majesty’s condition.”
“Hmph. Han Judan and Taeseorang praised your skill to the heavens. Seems it was all nonsense.”
Just like that, Gyeom released her hand.
“My apologies.”
Danseol quickly withdrew, bowing her head.
“Forget it. I only said it because you insisted.”
“Still, I’ll treat the bruise on your abdomen.”
He gave no reply. So she reached into her robes, pulling out the medicinal herbs she’d brought for emergencies.
While she ground them with calm precision, Gyeom sat silently, watching her.
‘Why did I do that?’
He thought back to what had just happened.
Answering vaguely just to prolong her touch, impulsively placing her hand over his chest… those weren’t things he would normally do.
‘Especially that last part.’
When she had flinched and turned away, his childish retort had been even more out of character. But when she’d avoided his eyes again, something in him had snapped.
‘Maybe I just wanted to understand why.’
Whatever she might think, the symptoms he’d described were real.
Whenever he looked at her, something deep in his chest itched—just like now.
“I’ll apply the medicine.”
Danseol approached again, the paste ready in her hand. As she began spreading it across the firm muscle of his abdomen, her hand paused mid-motion.
‘Again.’
Gyeom’s brow furrowed.
She always flinched at his touch—always reacted as if even brushing against him was unbearable.
Every time, a dull ache rose in his chest, mingled with a heat he didn’t understand.
It wasn’t anger or humiliation. It felt closer to… hurt.
‘Why?’
Why did it bother him so much?
Who was she, really—this woman who was always looking for a chance to kill him?
Why did she matter to him at all?
“If you have something to say, say it.”
His curt voice made her shoulders twitch.
“What does this mark mean, may I ask?”
Her question made him glance down. Her eyes were fixed on the plum blossom symbol etched below his left collarbone.
“It’s nothing.”
“But—”
“It’s none of your concern.”
He brushed her hand away and reached for his clothes, putting them back on. Then he spread his outer robe beside the fire.
“Sleep.”
He gestured for her to take the spot, then walked over to a dark corner where the fire’s warmth didn’t reach.
“…Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, ruffling her hair.
Gyeom never changed clothes in front of anyone. He wouldn’t even let the palace eunuchs or attendants help him.
It had to be because of that mark.
Which made her question just now painfully foolish—asking directly about something he clearly wanted to hide.
‘Why a plum blossom, of all things…?’
The plum blossom was her symbol—the emblem of the royal family of Seolhwa.
In Seolhwa, each royal was given a birth flower according to their season of birth.
Danseol, born at winter’s end, had been given the plum blossom—a flower that bloomed despite the cold, representing perseverance and purity.
Over time, people began to say that every royal lived like their birth flower, and Danseol had indeed been praised for her quiet strength and resilience.
That was why she had engraved a plum blossom on Dano’s sword, and why she hadn’t panicked when one mysteriously appeared on her own body one day.
But now… that same mark—her mark—was carved into Gyeom’s skin.
How could she not be curious?
Especially when the birth-flower tradition was a secret unknown beyond Seolhwa’s borders.
Danseol lay down on the robe he had spread for her, staring at the flickering fire.
‘What could it mean…?’
The faint scent of sandalwood that clung to his robe drifted up, unsettling her heart.
By the next morning, the rain had finally stopped, and the two were able to leave the cave.
The waterfall had swelled overnight, trapping them inside.
For two days, they had survived on nothing but dried meat—but worse than the hunger was being trapped in close quarters with Gyeom the entire time.
“No sign of pursuit. Either they gave up or changed direction.”
Danseol looked exhausted, while Gyeom seemed perfectly fine—as if two days of idleness had been enough to heal even his wounds.
His recovery bordered on inhuman.
“Wait.”
He stopped suddenly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“There’s someone ahead.”
At his whisper, Danseol focused her senses in the direction he pointed.
She couldn’t hear or see a thing.
“There’s nothing—”
Before she could finish, an arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the tree beside them.
