Chapter 16
A Daring Bargain
“Ah…!”
Danseol jolted awake with a sharp gasp. Her eyes darted wildly as she pushed herself up, frantically scanning her surroundings. Only when she registered the humble furniture, the wooden ceiling, and the moonlight spilling through the latticed window did her shoulders finally ease.
The bitter scent of herbs clung to the room—it must be an apothecary. Realizing she was somewhere safe, her tense body slackened.
“Finally awake?”
The door creaked open at the sound of a voice. Danseol flinched and quickly pulled the blanket over herself.
“If someone saw you like this, they’d think I dragged you here to eat you alive.”
“…Physician?”
Her guarded gaze softened when she recognized the man. He was the physician who had once brewed medicine for her under the pretense of errands.
“Taeseo Rang. Most simply call me Physician Tae.”
Introducing himself, Serang set down the tray he was carrying and sat.
“But… how is it that you are here, Physician?”
“Do you not remember?”
“…No.”
Danseol lowered her head heavily at his question. The last memory she could recall was watching the triumphant return of the great general’s procession.
“According to the witnesses, you suddenly collapsed.”
“…Collapsed…”
She repeated the word like testing its weight, as if trying to dig through the fog of memory.
“Did you see something so shocking?”
At those words, an image flashed before her eyes—the golden crown lying in the cart.
“…Ugh.”
Nausea surged. She clamped a hand over her mouth as bile threatened to rise. Her chest heaved, and her heart pounded like a drum.
“It seems you’re in no condition.”
Serang shook his head and stood.
“Don’t run errands today. I’ll explain everything to His Majesty myself.”
At the word “His Majesty,” Danseol’s eyes snapped open. In that instant, she realized how complacent she had been.
She had sworn to kill the Emperor and avenge her family, yet here she was, bargaining with herself, indulging in hesitation. She had no right to be proud.
“…I must go to Chiwoljeon.”
Danseol, pale and wan, tugged at Serang’s sleeve.
“I told you—rest. No punishment will come for neglecting errands this once.”
“No, Physician. No matter what, I must go to Chiwoljeon.”
“Ridiculous. In that state?”
“I’ll manage. Please… just give me the medicine.”
The two wrestled over the matter for some time. In the end, Serang, unable to break her stubbornness, surrendered with a sigh.
“If you falter and His Majesty punishes you, don’t blame me. I warned you.”
“I understand. Then, I’ll be going.”
Taking the medicine, Danseol stepped outside, his worried gaze burning into her back.
‘When opportunity comes, seize it, no matter the cost.’
Her expression hardened with grim resolve as she headed toward Chiwoljeon.
“Hmm. She’s late.”
Gyeom drummed his fingers on the table in boredom, his eyes fixed on the door rather than the open book before him.
“Shall I send word to the apothecary, Your Majesty?”
“No. If we move rashly, it may rouse suspicion.”
He waved Tae-yeom down. The one he waited for was Danseol. With Cheon Taesu back, he had to resolve matters with her quickly—before the Empress’s faction moved first.
“Perhaps… I should change my approach.”
He was deep in thought when the faint sound of footsteps reached them. Tae-yeom rushed to open the door, while Gyeom straightened his posture and feigned interest in his book.
“I’ve brought the medicine.”
At Danseol’s voice, Tae-yeom opened the door quietly.
‘Something about her feels… different.’
Her entire bearing had shifted. The way she walked, her gestures, even her expression—she carried the air of a general marching to war.
Danseol knelt and, without hesitation, downed the medicine. Shocked, Tae-yeom hurried to offer the tray of confections. She grabbed one and ate it just as decisively.
Gyeom’s lips curved upward. At his signal, Tae-yeom slipped from the room and would not return unless summoned.
“So—you mean to accept my offer?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was firm. Gyeom stroked his chin, studying her intently. The resolve in her eyes left no doubt.
“What made you change your mind?”
“I wish to seize the opportunity Your Majesty spoke of.”
“To kill me by becoming my woman… bold indeed.”
His low chuckle echoed, amused at her audacity. To ensnare Cheon Ihwa’s gaze, there could be no bait more perfect.
“Very well.”
He rose and strode toward her. Startled, Danseol instinctively backed away, only to feel his hand close firmly around her chin.
“Ugh…”
“You look at me as if I were about to commit some vile act.”
Leaning down, he drew her face closer until their breaths mingled.
“This… this is not what was agreed!”
“Not agreed? And what exactly was agreed, then?”
His taunting tone made her bristle. She tried to wrench away, but his grip was unyielding, deceptively strong despite its gentleness.
“I accepted Your Majesty’s proposal—not to… form an attachment.”
“…Ha.”
Her bluntness drew a wry laugh. The cold words, spoken from such a delicate face, pricked at him in ways he hadn’t expected.
“That only makes me want to touch you more.”
“…What?”
He whispered by her ear.
“Do you truly not know what it means to become my woman?”
“Th-that…”
Of course, she knew. To be the Emperor’s woman could mean only one thing. She had simply never imagined he would genuinely desire her.
‘This man… I’ve sworn to kill him. And I still will.’
What kind of fool would take to his bed a woman intent on his death?
Before she could answer, he released her chin.
“…Haa… haa…”
Freed, Denseol exhaled in shuddering relief. The few seconds of his hold had felt like an eternity.
“There is but one way for a palace maid to become a concubine.”
Gyeom crossed the room with unhurried steps, extinguishing each lantern he passed. The light dimmed, one flame at a time, and with each one Dahnsul’s heart sank deeper.
“To be favored by the Emperor.”
With a final puff, the last lamp died. Darkness fell.
‘Nothing… I can’t see a thing…’
She reached into the dark, fumbling, just as the moon broke free of clouds, silver light spilling in. Gyeom’s figure stood bathed in it.
“Tonight, I intend to bestow that favor upon you.”
The sash around his waist came loose. Silken robes slipped down to reveal the chiseled expanse of his back, sculpted muscle flowing like stone wrought by gods. It was breathtaking—and terrifying.
‘Can I truly survive this man?’
She had forgotten, if only for a moment: he was the Emperor, and she nothing but a palace maid. She had lived this long in the palace not through fortune, but because he had permitted it.
She needed clarity—now more than ever.
“Your Majesty once said you would grant me anything I asked.”
“I did. And why do you bring it up now?”
“While I remain by your side, I ask that no one lay a hand on me. Protect me.”
If she could not escape, then she would turn the peril into advantage.
“That includes you, Your Majesty.”
