Chapter 38. Can You Still Endure This?
“Bring him here.”
As soon as Cha-eon gave the order, the servants left the main hall. While Seohyo stood there in a daze, still unable to believe what was happening, someone was brought inside.
Clank, clank.
Every step came with the sound of chains dragging across the floor. The heavy, unfamiliar noise made Seohyo turn her head.
The person the servants brought in was a man.
Was he a prisoner?
His worn clothes were stained with dried, brownish blood, and his ankles were bound in chains. His face and hair were a mess, unkempt from a lack of grooming.
Even in her stunned state, something felt off.
If he was a criminal, why were only his legs bound?
Normally, wouldn’t the arms be restrained as well? If his hands were free, he could remove the chains—or even steal a key and escape.
But her question was soon answered.
The man had no hands.
Neither the right nor the left.
At first, she thought his sleeves were just unusually long, but what she was seeing was absence—where hands should have been, there was nothing. That was why the sleeves hung limply in the air.
“My father planted someone in my territory.”
Cha-eon looked at the man as if he were an object to be disposed of.
“I thought I was the only one who did things like that. But I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
He let out a small laugh, almost amused by his own words, then turned his gaze to Seohyo. With a slight tilt of his chin, he pointed at the man.
“That’s him. The one who sent you letters for an entire year.”
“…What?”
“He impersonated me and sent you love letters. For a whole year, while he was under my roof. Even I get chills thinking about it.”
Cha-eon ground his teeth.
“A year. An entire year.”
When he looked at the man again, clear murderous intent filled his eyes.
“Did he think he could get away with something like that inside my palace?”
A servant, reading Cha-eon’s mood, kicked the back of the man’s knees. With a groan, the man collapsed to his knees.
Normally, one would brace themselves with their hands when falling forward.
But he had no hands.
He could only topple helplessly before managing to steady himself.
“Truly astonishing,” Cha-eon said.
He must have read the letters.
More precisely, the letters the man had written—and Seohyo’s replies to them.
“I could feel my skin crawling reading them. I thought, so this is how well he deceived you. You looked completely taken in by it.”
Each word cut into Seohyo like a blade.
“Let me ask you something, honestly.”
Cha-eon shook his head with a faint smile.
“Do you really think I care what book you’re reading these days? Honestly?”
His laughter grew louder, mocking.
“Me?”
“…Then…”
It was Seohyo’s turn to speak, but she was still reeling from the revelation that the person who had sent her those thoughtful letters wasn’t Cha-eon.
And yet what came next was even more shocking.
If this man was the one who had written to her…
Then why didn’t he have hands?
After all, letters had to be written by hand.
“You mean… his hands…”
“You’re thinking correctly.”
Cha-eon answered without hesitation, almost cheerfully.
“I cut them off.”
“…My god…”
A servant had asked whether to punish the right hand for betrayal, or something else.
And Cha-eon had replied:
“If the right hand did it, the left hand must have known. Cut them both off.”
Seohyo’s strength left her legs, and she collapsed to the floor.
This can’t be real. This must be a nightmare. There’s no way something this horrifying is real.
Looking down at her in cold amusement, Cha-eon gave a small laugh, as if he understood her reaction perfectly.
“Why am I doing this to you, you ask?”
He grasped the hand of a woman who had been massaging him, still keeping his eyes on Seohyo.
“Because you were chosen as my match by the Heavenly Emperor.”
His fingers continued to idly toy with the woman’s hand.
The woman tried to pull away, giggling lightly in embarrassment.
“I told them I wouldn’t marry anyone. That I would live as I pleased, alone. But they insisted on balance and chose a partner for me anyway, like I was some insignificant creature.”
Now called an “insignificant creature,” Seohyo struggled to hold back tears.
What had her fiancé called her in those letters?
Summer sunlight.
Pink blossoms.
The sound of grass flutes beyond a wall.
That was how he described her. And she had believed, without doubt, that Cha-eon must be like that too.
She had ignored all the rumors—his cold personality, his cruelty toward subordinates.
Even her mother, Mujobu-in, had been uneasy about the engagement because of those rumors.
Even if exaggerated, they couldn’t be entirely false.
I can’t handle a man like that.
Her mother’s serious face came back to her.
“It seems my father decided to tighten control over me, even considering force if necessary. So I decided to switch targets—you.”
Cha-eon pointed at Seohyo.
“Come to think of it, it was close. The envoys my father sent were supposed to protect you. The timing was perfect, wasn’t it?”
A satisfied smile curved his lips.
“I even pretended to have changed after discovering the pile of letters. Didn’t work, though. But in front of me, the old man still smiled like he believed me. I almost believed him back.”
Seohyo’s ears rang with the words he had said that morning.
‘He’s quite predictable, isn’t he?’
‘Still, this time it was close. I almost fell for it.’
So that’s what he meant.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“You’re crying.”
Cha-eon nodded as if praising a child.
“Tears are a good sign. It means my plan is working.”
“…Cha-eon-nim…”
She wanted to beg him to stop. To stop terrifying her like this. Her whole body trembled violently.
Then Cha-eon’s expression went completely cold.
“Look forward to it.”
His voice was colder than any blade.
“You’ll soon realize that Cha-eon of Mangwol is far more cruel than the rumors say. And by then, you’ll understand—you’ll need to cling to the Heavenly Emperor’s robe and beg him to cancel this marriage if you want to live.”
He stood up.
Before leaving, his final order was to execute the man.
“Since he’s been presented, his usefulness ends here.”
After Cha-eon, the servants, and the man all left, Seohyo couldn’t move a single step.
Something truly terrifying had just happened.
She returned to her quarters like a soul gone empty.
Now she understood what he meant by “from now on, things begin.”
In just half a day, her entire situation had changed.
While she had been away, all the furniture in her room had disappeared. The elegant decorations were gone, leaving only a bed and a thin, worn blanket.
It felt hollow.
Just that morning, she had thought how peaceful it was, looking at the bamboo swaying in sunlight.
Now it didn’t feel peaceful at all.
It felt like a sealed-off cell.
A cold palace…
She lifted the cloth she had wrapped around herself like a skirt and saw bruises covering her body. Only now did the pain begin to sink in.
“Oh… my clothes…”
Something poked out from under the blanket. It was the outfit she had worn yesterday. She had thought everything she brought had been burned, yet this remained.
She hugged it tightly.
It was the only thing from home that was still hers.
She buried her face into it and inhaled. It carried the scent of home—like her mother’s sachet tucked deep in a drawer.
“I want to go home…”
The tears she had been holding back finally broke.
She sobbed into the fabric.
Everything was too frightening. Cha-eon’s cruel face wouldn’t leave her mind.
Then—
Creak.
The door opened without warning.
She quickly wiped her tears and looked up. The maid who had burned her belongings earlier entered.
“This is no time for that. Change your clothes and get to work.”
“Work?”
“There’s a lot to do.”
Still dazed, Seohyo followed her.
She was taken to the laundry area.
The maid’s words were true.
Mountains of laundry waited for her.
Three massive tubs, all overflowing.
“You’re to finish it alone,” the maid said before leaving.
Seohyo begged to send a letter to her mother, but the maid cut her off.
“Finish this first. Then we’ll talk.”
She stared at the enormous pile. It was impossible for one person.
But she had no choice.
She had to contact her mother.
That night, after what felt like endless labor, she returned past midnight. A tray waited for her—cold porridge and plain water.
She drank without stopping and collapsed to the floor.
Tears kept flowing down her cheeks.
Five days had passed since she arrived in Mangwol.
From the second day, she was treated like a servant.
Her once-soft hands, used to housework, had already become rough in just a few days.
There was still no permission to send a message to her mother.
Instead, her workload only increased.
On the fourth day, she collapsed, saying she couldn’t move from pain.
Cha-eon responded by summoning the maids.
When the servants brought whips, Seohyo began trembling.
“Please forgive us!”
“Please calm your anger!”
The maids were beaten brutally. Though they had once changed their attitude toward her, they were still just following orders.
“I’ll get up! I’ll work!”
Seohyo cried out.
“Please stop this!”
“…You should have said that sooner.”
Cha-eon left calmly.
That was two days ago.
Today too, Seohyo dragged her broken body into the kitchen.
There was a banquet being held on a pavilion in the middle of a lake.
She had been cooking since dawn.
“Alright, time to send out the main dishes!”
The head maid clapped.
Each guest had a different table setting. Seohyo, still trembling, was handed a tray.
“Deliver Cha-eon-nim’s table.”
She was pushed forward.
In Mangwol Palace, everyone had uniforms. Everyone except her.
That was why she stood out so much.
Now she understood—it wasn’t kindness that let her keep her clothes.
It was surveillance.
To prevent her from escaping unnoticed.
As she entered the pavilion, she heard Cha-eon’s voice.
“Long time since we’ve had a feast. Eat well.”
Seohyo carefully placed the dishes, avoiding eye contact.
Then—
“Ack!”
Her knees buckled.
She almost collapsed, but a strong arm caught her.
She looked up.
Cha-eon smiled gently, the same soft expression from that morning.
“You caught yourself this time.”
His voice was warm.
Seohyo quickly straightened, apologizing repeatedly.
Cha-eon shook his head.
Then he told her to draw a fortune slip from a bowl.
Her hands trembled.
What punishment would it be this time?
“Stop shaking.”
He smiled brightly.
“Anyone would think I’m about to eat you alive.”
“S-sorry…”
“Stop apologizing too.”
“I’m… yes, understood.”
He laughed again.
That same smile—soft enough to melt fear.
Seohyo thought he was simply acting differently in front of guests.
But she knew the truth.
He hated her.
Every time they met, he stabbed her with cruel words.
So why…
Why did that smile shake her so much?
“Pick it already.”
She drew a slip.
“鼎, 喜.”
“Ah, simple characters,” Cha-eon said lightly.
Guests began murmuring.
Seohyo hesitated.
Then laughter suddenly broke out.
A cold, mocking laugh.
“Where do we even begin with this?”
The gentle atmosphere turned into ridicule.
Her face burned with humiliation.
More than Cha-eon’s cruelty, she hated herself for being shaken by his kindness just moments ago.
She couldn’t lift her head.
“Still enduring?”
Cha-eon leaned back.
“Have you already gotten used to it? Not crying anymore?”
No…
I am crying.
I’m already crying…
The words stayed trapped inside her.
