Chapter 61
An Unwelcome Favor
“Ugh….”
As Gyeom’s lips touched hers, Danseol let out a faint groan and twisted in discomfort. She fidgeted restlessly in his arms, as if suffocating.
Gyeom, however, did not let her go. Instead, he tightened his hold around her and slowly parted her lips—pouring the bitter herbal medicine into her mouth.
“Mmff…!”
Danseol shook her head fiercely as the acrid liquid flowed in, refusing to swallow. But Gyeom grasped her nape firmly and poured every drop of the medicine from his own mouth into hers.
“Cough, cough…”
When he finally pulled away, Danseol was coughing painfully.
“You should’ve just swallowed it properly,” he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with irritation.
He lifted the bowl of medicine again. Everything he was doing—this entire ridiculous situation—was for her sake.
If only she weren’t burning up with fever.
If only she had stayed conscious.
Then he wouldn’t have resorted to this.
So really, it was all her fault—for being so absurdly weak.
Holding another mouthful of medicine, Gyeom pressed his lips to hers once more. After repeating this process several times, Danseol, exhausted, stopped resisting.
She simply lay in his arms, quietly accepting the medicine he passed to her.
‘This is insane…’
But now Gyeom faced a new problem.
With her resistance gone, his senses began to sharpen—and that was a problem.
He could feel everything: the feverish warmth of her breath, the softness of her lips slick with medicine and saliva, the contours of her body pressed against his. Every rise and fall of her chest from her shallow breathing rubbed against him and sent his thoughts spiraling.
‘I thought she was frail…’
Yet Danseol’s body was anything but.
Her waist was slender, but her breasts were full—surprisingly so. Her hips, which he’d assumed would be nothing but bone, were firm and inviting.
And the curve of her delicate neck, the faint glimpse of her collarbone through her collar—everything about her was perilously tempting.
A dangerous body.
And though he knew it, he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn in.
‘Maybe… I was already bewitched back then.’
The first time he met her—when she was brought to Chiwoljeon as a captive.
Dressed in finery, her face impassive as she poured him wine.
The moment she glared at him with those fierce eyes, declaring she would kill the Emperor of Hwangseon.
Perhaps from that moment, he had been captivated by this woman named Danseol.
And strangely enough… he didn’t find that thought unpleasant.
* * *
“Your Grace! You’re awake!”
Danseol struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. A familiar voice reached her ears, and when she turned her head, she saw Eunso’s worried face hovering nearby.
“…What happened?”
She couldn’t remember what had occurred after leaving the banquet hall.
She recalled feeling chilled, her body so heavy she could barely walk—and that was it.
Now she was lying in her bedchamber, and it didn’t make sense.
“You collapsed not long after leaving the banquet,” Eunso explained.
“Ah…”
“Your fever was terribly high, to the point of losing consciousness.”
So her body had been in worse shape than she thought.
“I must have caused trouble on such a joyous night.”
It was fortunate she hadn’t collapsed in the banquet hall—otherwise the courtiers who already disliked her would have had a field day gossiping.
“Trouble? Not at all, Your Grace.”
“You must have struggled to bring me back here.”
Eunso had risked herself to come to her side—Danseol felt bad for burdening such a devoted girl on the very first night.
It would have been difficult even for a man to carry an unconscious adult all the way to Chiwoljeon. The thought of delicate Eunso doing so filled her with guilt.
“I truly didn’t suffer, Your Grace.”
“You don’t need to say that just so I don’t feel—”
“His Majesty brought you here himself.”
“…His Majesty?”
Danseol blinked. Eunso nodded slowly. Danseol’s brow creased in disbelief.
“But His Majesty left the banquet before I did. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
Besides, Chiwoljeon, where she stayed, and Geoniljeon, where the Emperor resided, were in opposite directions. There was no reason for him to have been on her path—unless he had waited there deliberately.
“I’m not mistaken. When you collapsed, His Majesty appeared and caught you.”
“And then personally carried me here?”
“Yes.”
Danseol tried to imagine Gyeom carrying her in his arms—but the image was so unreal she had to touch her own arm, as if to check for any lingering warmth of his body.
“So… I troubled His Majesty instead.”
She didn’t know why he had been there at that exact moment, but it was undeniable that she now owed him.
And that made her twice as uncomfortable as before.
“His Majesty surely doesn’t see it as trouble. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed until just a while ago.”
“…What?”
“I mean, His Majesty must not think you a burden.”
“No, not that. What did you just say after that?”
“That His Majesty stayed here until a short while ago, Your Grace.”
At that, Danseol’s expression turned grave.
It was as though she had heard something she wasn’t supposed to.
“How long… was I unconscious?”
“About three shijin—roughly six hours.”
“Three shijin…”
That was quite a long time. And she had left the banquet late into the night—
Which meant Gyeom had stayed by her side until dawn.
The Emperor—who barely had time to sleep because of endless affairs of state.
“Your Grace, is something wrong?”
“N-no, it’s nothing.”
Danseol turned her head toward the window instead of answering. Pale morning light seeped through the paper screens—it was already dawn.
“It seems your fever has subsided.”
Eunso placed a hand on Danseol’s forehead and sighed in relief.
“Yes, I feel much better.”
Indeed, her body felt lighter now, though she shivered faintly from the cold sweat that still clung to her.
“It’s all thanks to His Majesty.”
Danseol’s head snapped toward Eunso again, alarm flashing in her eyes.
Now she was afraid to hear what would come next.
“His Majesty personally fed you the medicine. Don’t you remember?”
“I… don’t remember at all—”
Her voice trailed off.
Because suddenly, a strange memory surfaced in her mind—
A memory of Gyeom’s lips pressing against hers.
‘T-That’s impossible…’
Danseol covered her mouth with her hand.
It was too vivid to be dismissed as a dream.
The bitterness of the medicine mingled with the faint scent of sandalwood.
The warmth of his breath.
The soft, crushing pressure of lips against lips.
Their breaths mingling, hot and ragged.
The more she tried to suppress it, the more the memory flooded back, washing over her in waves.
Whether it had truly happened or not, she couldn’t tell anymore.
“Your Grace…?”
Eunso called her name, worried by the sudden pallor on her face.
“Are you all right? Should I fetch the royal physician?”
“No, I’m fine. There’s no need.”
Danseol forced a smile to reassure her maid.
Perhaps thanks to Gyeom’s devoted care, her body was indeed lighter—though she couldn’t decide whether that was a blessing or a curse.
“I’m glad,” Eunso said, smiling in relief.
“By the way…”
Danseol smoothed her hand over her nightclothes.
“I assume His Majesty didn’t also change my clothes?”
Even as she asked, her voice wavered with unease. Beyond the embarrassment, there was something else she feared—she didn’t want him to discover the same strange mark that lay upon her body.
Any connection, however small, between them was unwelcome.
“No, Your Grace. I changed you myself.”
At that, Danseol let out a quiet sigh of relief.
But then Eunso hesitated, lowering her voice.
“Your Grace… may I ask something?”
Her tone turned cautious, almost secretive.
“When did the plum blossom mark on your left thigh appear?”
Danseol’s face froze instantly.
