Chapter 38
An Unexpected Side
“She even learned horseback riding? Impressive.”
Gyeom glanced sideways at Danseol, who was riding a little ahead of him.
Her legs were firmly pressed against the horse’s sides, stabilizing her lower body, while her upper body moved fluidly with each bounce to absorb the impact.
The way she used her legs to nudge the horse or pulled the reins to adjust its pace was smooth and practiced.
Her horsemanship truly was first-rate—enough to make even Gyeom, a seasoned rider himself, feel a twinge of admiration.
But it wasn’t only Gyeom who was surprised.
When Danseol had climbed onto the horse by herself, without any help, everyone around her had been left gaping.
A concubine known for her delicate beauty and leisurely walks—riding like an experienced soldier? It was beyond their imagination.
And by doing so, she instantly silenced those who had complained that her presence and carriage would slow down the army’s march.
As expected, she was a clever woman.
“Take a short rest!”
At Gyeom’s command, the soldiers halted their march.
Following their officers’ orders, they quickly set up shade tents and slipped feedbags over the horses’ heads.
While the animals rested, the men inspected their horseshoes and grabbed quick rations for themselves.
“It’s been a while since I’ve ridden… My back’s a little stiff.”
Danseol dismounted and stretched her arms over her head, then sat down on a rock, lightly thumping her lower back and thighs with her fists.
One of the soldiers approached and offered her a wooden flask of water and a rough rice ball.
“It may not suit your taste, Your Ladyship, but the road ahead is long. Please eat a little.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled warmly as she accepted it.
“P–please enjoy your meal!”
The soldier blushed at her bright smile, bowed hastily, and fled back to his post.
Danseol watched him go, then lowered her gaze to the rice ball in her hand.
“…Unexpected.”
Gyeom had ordered that everyone, regardless of rank, receive the same ration of rice balls.
There were no exceptions.
Even the Emperor himself ate and drank the same fare as his soldiers—no special treatment for his status.
That alone left a deep impression on Danseol.
In her experience, nobles and emperors always drew sharp lines between themselves and common soldiers. It was the natural order of things.
But Gyeom had shattered that convention with his own hands.
“Ha… What am I thinking again?”
Danseol bit into the rice ball as if to cut off her thoughts.
The mixed grains made it dry and coarse—not tasty, but hunger made it tolerable.
She forced herself to focus on eating, trying to push thoughts of Gyeom out of her head.
She could not—must not—feel anything toward him.
She could not try to understand him.
Only that way could she one day kill him and take her revenge.
“You may have me by your side, but sitting among soldiers so defenseless—are you not being too careless?”
A low voice sounded, followed by the sensation of something draping over her knees.
Startled by the brush of fabric, Danseol looked up to find Gyeom’s sharply defined face shadowed by the sunlight at his back.
“Your Majesty.”
She hurriedly rose to her feet.
“Enough. Sit.”
His hand pressed gently but firmly on her shoulder, pushing her back down.
When he sat beside her, Danseol’s eyes widened slightly.
“What is that reaction?”
“I just… didn’t expect Your Majesty to come here, so I was a little surprised.”
At her reply, Gyeom’s lips curled faintly.
“You didn’t come to me, so I had to come to you. Besides, there are too many eyes watching.”
He tore a large bite from his rice ball and motioned with his chin toward the soldiers and generals resting in the distance.
“My apologies. From now on, I’ll come to you first.”
Danseol bowed her head.
As his concubine, it was indeed inappropriate to be resting apart from him—it could easily draw unwanted talk.
“Not that.”
Her brow furrowed slightly.
When she failed to understand, Gyeom gestured toward the outer robe draped over her knees.
“Your clothes.”
“…Pardon?”
She quickly looked down at herself, but found nothing strange.
“Don’t sit around like that with your legs exposed.”
Now realizing what he meant, Danseol blinked in disbelief.
“But I’m wearing trousers. That hardly counts as exposed.”
To ride properly, she’d traded her skirt for men’s riding pants and wore a long outer coat that reached below her knees.
It wasn’t elegant, but it was far from improper.
“When you wear it, it’s different.”
When Danseol sat on the rock eating, every man’s gaze—regardless of rank—had drifted her way.
It was inevitable.
She was breathtakingly beautiful, and the sight of her sitting beneath the shade tree with her long legs stretched out was captivating, to say the least.
Though none dared openly stare at an imperial concubine, the covert glances were enough to sour Gyeom’s mood.
That was why he had come personally—to drape his robe over her legs and scatter their gazes.
And as if on cue, the moment he arrived, all those wandering eyes vanished.
“I’ll… be careful next time.”
Unsure how to respond, Danseol cleared her throat awkwardly.
She still didn’t quite understand why he was saying such things.
“When did you learn to ride?”
“When I was little. My older brother and I used to ride together often.”
Her quick and bright reply pleased him.
“You rode since childhood? Your family must have been wealthy, then.”
A single horse cost as much as an average house—owning one was no small feat for commoners.
But Danseol had said she rode often as a child, implying her family had more than one horse available for leisure.
“My father worked in the royal stables.”
She quickly added the excuse, realizing her slip.
Fortunately, Gyeom didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
“You must have been close to your brother.”
“He always treated me with love, like our parents would have.”
Her wistful tone made Gyeom fall silent, finishing the last of his rice ball.
The melancholy in her eyes made his throat tighten.
He had no siblings and couldn’t fully grasp her emotions, yet something about her expression unsettled him—perhaps because he sensed he might be the cause of that sadness.
Whatever it was, it didn’t feel right.
“Eat up. The road ahead is long.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As Danseol resumed eating, Gyeom found himself watching her quietly.
He had dismissed the strange feeling she stirred in him as mere distraction before…
But now, he could no longer deny it.
The army led by Gyeom marched for fifteen straight days before finally reaching the rear lines of the southern border.
They arrived deep into the night, and though the darkness obscured much, the devastation could not be hidden.
“…It’s severe.”
His low murmur was met with only cold silence.
In the stifling air, the only sounds were the groans of wounded and sick soldiers.
The scene was even worse than reports had suggested.
Everyone fell silent at the horror before them—including Danseol.
“Your Majesty, this area is filled with the wounded and those afflicted with plague. It’s dangerous here. Please, let us move you to the command tent.”
One of the generals in charge of the rear lines approached with overly polite speech.
Unlike the gaunt soldiers, his own face was well-fed and glistening.
The sight made Gyeom’s brow furrow.
“The damage seems greater than expected.”
“It only looks that way, because they’re all gathered here.”
Clearly, the general hadn’t anticipated the Emperor’s sudden visit.
After all, it was rare—unthinkable—for a ruler to head straight to the infirmary before the command tent.
“Your Majesty, please, you shouldn’t be in such a filthy place. Allow me to escort you—”
Sweating nervously, the man tried to hurry Gyeom away.
The war against the Yuldo Kingdom was already proving difficult; there was no need to let the Emperor witness such shameful disorder.
But just as he was about to lead him off—
“You may not know who’s in charge here,” Danseol spoke up, “but you mustn’t house plague victims together with the wounded.”
The smiling general’s face twisted in an instant.
“How dare you speak out of turn, woman!”
“I merely stated what’s obvious to anyone with eyes. And I’m advising you, not babbling.”
“Where does a mere wench think she—”
“Did you just call my beloved concubine a wench?”
The icy voice that cut him off froze the air where they stood.
