DN13

Chapter 13:

Ominous Premonition

Since that day, Danseol had been running errands for medicinal decoctions.
Although “errands” was the word, the truth was that, just like before, the decoction she brought back ended up being drunk by her.

“What are you glancing at like that?”
“…Nothing.”

Danseol quickly averted her gaze from Gyeom as she swallowed the bitter medicine.

“Nothing? Don’t let your mind wander over useless things—just finish it.”

Scolded in that calm yet authoritative tone, Danseol tilted her head back and drained the remaining liquid in one go.

As soon as she set the empty bowl down, the eunuch standing nearby stepped forward and silently held out a tray.
On it was a piece of honey-glazed confectionery, tempting in appearance.

But Danseol turned her head away in refusal.
At that, the eunuch quietly withdrew.

“It’s already this late.”

Closing the book he’d been reading, Gyeom rose to his feet.
The eunuch, still holding the untouched confectionery, followed him.

“My answer will not change, so you may stop wasting your efforts like this.”
“When you return, submit the remaining memorials to the throne.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Without responding to her outright rejection, Gyeom simply left.

Danseol’s rigid posture softened only after he was gone.

The two of them were currently engaged in a silent battle of wills—
all because of his absurd suggestion that she become his consort.

Gyeom came to her every day, pressing his case;
Danseol, in turn, met him with unyielding resistance.

Somewhere in the middle of this standoff, an unspoken rule had emerged—centered around the confectionery the eunuch always brought.

If Danseol drank the decoction and ate the sweet, it meant she would accept the proposal.
If she refused the sweet, it meant her answer was still “no.”

“Why on earth is he doing this…?”

She could not understand him.
He came every day, not to threaten or coerce her, but to feed her this liquorice-laden medicine—as if this were some sort of childish game.

The days passed, her body growing noticeably stronger even as her mind grew more tangled.

Maybe… he’s trying to keep me under watch?

That seemed more believable to her.
It could be a way to make sure she didn’t attempt anything reckless—poison, for example.

He wants me to remember that he holds my life in his hands.

Each time she drank the decoction in front of him, this thought occurred to her.

If the bowl contained hemlock instead… it would be an easy thing for him to replace it and kill her on the spot.

Thus, every time she raised the bowl to her lips, she felt a faint dread—praying silently that he hadn’t chosen this day to end her life.

It was a miserable way to live.

I could never like that man… even after an eternity.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the empty bowl.

Returning the bowl to the dispensary, Danseol began tidying up.
The constant strain from Gyeom’s visits had left her feeling worn out.

“Did your errand go well?”
“Ah, yes.”

She bowed quickly when she saw the court physician standing by the door—
the very same man who had first sent her on these decoction errands.

“There’s no need to be startled.”

The physician stepped inside, motioning for her to relax.

“How’s your health? I’ve been adding herbs to replenish your vitality—any trouble taking them?”
“Ah…”

Danseol faltered, unsure how to answer.

Then, without warning, the physician reached for her wrist.

“W-what are you doing?!”
“Taking your pulse. Stay still.”

Closing his eyes, he measured her pulse with calm precision, his expression serious.

“Hm. Better than I expected. Much of your depleted energy has returned.”

When he finally released her wrist, Danseol instinctively drew it back, holding it protectively.

“Why…?”
“By order of His Majesty, I was told to look after you.”

Her eyes widened sharply at the unexpected statement.

“I heard you provoked the Empress and were forced to drink poison, harming your health?”

She stayed silent.

“His Majesty likes to give some form of compensation to court ladies who have suffered because of the Empress. Truly, a benevolent ruler.”

That refrain again.
As a palace maid, Danseol had heard endless praises for Gyeom’s supposed kindness and virtue.

Benevolent and wise sovereign.
Each time she heard it, her chest seemed to tear a little more—
because the man others saw as a saintly ruler was, to her, a mortal enemy.

And then there was that plum blossom mark below his collarbone…
The fact that they shared that in common made her skin crawl.

She had asked around, but as a low-ranking maid, she’d learned nothing.

Worse still was the creeping, unbearable thought—
that maybe Gyeom wasn’t as bad a man as she had believed.

“Why would His Majesty personally care for every lowly maid?”
“Perhaps… because he knows the pain of losing someone precious.”

Her eyes widened again at the physician’s words.
He smiled faintly at her surprise.

“What’s so shocking? Royalty are people too. If anything, they often lead more unfortunate lives than we do.”
“Unfortunate or not, they’re born with every privilege and power in their hands.”

Danseol’s lips curved in a small pout.
Those at the pinnacle of power might have hard lives, but they were not truly unhappy lives.
She herself, as a princess of Seolhwa, had lived such a life.

“His Majesty never even saw the face of his own mother and grew up in loneliness.”
“…I see.”

For the first time, Danseol could understand what the physician meant.
Growing up in the dangerous world of the palace with no one to rely on…
that must have been an incredibly difficult life.

Why am I even thinking about this…?

Shaken by the realization that she was sympathizing with him, she looked away.

The physician rose.

“I’ll be going now. Finish tidying up before you leave.”
“Yes. Take care.”

Even after he left, Danseol sat unmoving, lost in thought—
her mind circling back to what she had just learned about Gyeom.

“Your Majesty, His Majesty has retired to his chambers,” came a cautious voice from beyond the door.

Dressed in her night robe, Yi-hwa’s face hardened in an instant.
Once again, Gyeom had not come to her.

Every month, the Bureau of Astronomy selected auspicious nights for the Emperor and Empress to share a bed—
a matter of state, since they had no heir yet.

But Gyeom had never come to her on those appointed nights.

“…Geonji alone may enter.”

At her icy order, Geonji—her personal maid from her family home—stepped inside.
She approached her mistress, who sat alone before her dressing table.

“Shall I help you remove your ornaments, Your Majesty?”

As Geonji removed a hairpin, Yi-hwa spoke in a low, bitter voice.

“Once again, the entire palace will whisper that the Empress has been abandoned by her husband.”
“Your Majesty…”
“They’ll laugh at me behind my back, pleased with my humiliation.”

Her tone was calm, but her clenched fists trembled faintly.
Despite the public shame, she still awaited him on these nights—
because of the slender hope that he might one day return to her.

It was a foolish hope, but she could not let go.

If I were not Cheon Yi-hwa… would things be different?

She sometimes regretted being born into the Cheon clan,
but regret changed nothing.
She was still the daughter of Great General Cheon Tae-su.

“If anyone dares mock you, I will not forgive them,” Geonji said fiercely.

Yi-hwa gave a small laugh.
In this cold, loveless palace, Geonji was her one source of comfort—
so loyal that she would give her life for her mistress.