"……For now, the only thing we can do is focus entirely on replenishing the Empress's vital energy. The choice can be made after that."

This meant that even removing it would only be possible once Yunseo's condition had recovered to some degree. Hwi closed his eyes as though nodding.

"Devote all efforts to the Empress's recovery."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

After the physician had gone out, Jo Sanggung came in carrying a tray with hot water and a cloth. Hwi received it and gestured, and Jo Sanggung vacated her place.

In the silence, a faint pulse was heard. Hwi stood looking at Yunseo in a daze before dampening the cloth and carefully wiping his stained lips.

"You were brave and strong in all things, so you will shake this off and get up. Won't you?"

Yunseo, who seemed as though he might open his eyes at any moment and squirm in protest saying that was obvious, was sunk in a deep and heavy sleep. Hwi wiped Yunseo's nape and loosened the ties fastening his clothing.

He himself had tied each of these ties. And then, hand in hand, led him to a place of death.

"All you have to do is live."

Hwi whispered it as though making a vow, as though reciting it, and slowly wiped the exposed body. Carefully stroking down the arm that had grown thin and lighter in the meantime, the sight of his fingertips blackened with embedded dirt and his fingernails broken here and there made him feel — only guess, could only guess — how much pain this child had been in, and his limbs burned again.

"All you have to do is live……"

Hwi reverently pressed his lips to each of the soiled fingers and then rested his forehead on the back of Yunseo's hand.

'Because it is common to not be able to break free from the shackles of the place where one was born and raised. I am more afraid of and hate that kind of life more than death.'

A rough and metallic laugh escaped between his lips. Hwi held Yunseo's hand as though it might shatter — awkwardly — and traced it as though feeling a glass bead.

'Even if I were to go back, I would make the same choice — so what is there to be sorry for?'

The end of every crossroads he had stepped into was right here. Searing pain twisted his limbs, but what was truly frightening was not this kind of pain that he had been suffering his whole life.

The possibility of finally, ultimately losing Yunseo.

Just entertaining that possibility alone made his throat close up, and Hwi erased that impure thought entirely. He would save him by any means, by whatever method. If this child would only live, he would do anything.

Hwi rubbed his forehead against Yunseo's and whispered desperately.

If I could go back……

You……

* * *

"Your Highness. His Majesty the Emperor is asking for you."

At the court eunuch's message, Crown Prince Hwi tossed the wooden practice sword he had been swinging and shook off the sweat running down his forehead. His body felt light when moving, but once he stopped training, every part was stiff and heavy. And yet if he devoted the whole day to martial practice, the more he exerted himself the more poison accumulated and became difficult to manage — it was all truly tiresome and troublesome.

He wiped the sweat with a cloth a palace servant had brought and began walking. He could not guess why his imperial father was calling him. If a signal fire had gone up, news would have arrived long before now……

"What is it?"

"I apologize, but this one has only received the order and does not know well."

Meeting with his imperial father had been becoming an ordeal at some point. Because he had to feel as though he were standing before a half-dead walking corpse from his own father. Witnessing the process of his father's flame being extinguished — and that not someone else's, but his own parent — was not particularly pleasant.

It was not that he did not understand his imperial father's helplessness. His beloved Noble Consort Ye had already passed from this world before him, and on top of that grief he had watched his young son undergo Gakchim.

If the firstborn Yung had undergone Gakchim, since Yung was sixteen at the time, he would only have had to hold on for a year or two and could have abdicated, stepping back from all responsibility. If any other brother had undergone Gakchim, holding on for a few years would have sufficed. But as fate would have it, it was he himself at the mere age of seven — and five years had passed and he was still only twelve.

Far too long a time for the feeble imperial father to hold out upright.

Hwi delivered a cynical assessment of his own father and quickened his steps. His imperial father's helplessness had exceeded all bounds — the things slipping out of his grasp numbered not one or two — and all of that fell to him, so there was no leisure for idle conversation.

Time with his imperial father was just one more item among matters to be dealt with. Heading to the main hall while mentally going over the remaining tasks for the day, Hwi arrived and narrowed his brow at the palace servants lined up before the hall.

"Why is everyone outside?"

"His Majesty the Emperor ordered everyone to withdraw."

An ominous premonition somehow ran across his spine. Hwi examined the faces of the palace servants who showed no particular reaction, then immediately stepped inside.

The door closed behind him and as he walked further down the long corridor, an ill-boding aura descended steadily onto his shoulders.

Sound. He could not hear any.

If his imperial father was inside, some sound should be heard — yet a chilling silence filled the space. Without being able to guess what had happened, yet with instinct as his guide, Hwi opened the door.

Upon the golden throne in high relief with a living dragon, his imperial father was seated. With a sword plunged into his chest.

It was as though a shapeless boulder was silently pressing down upon his head. Hwi tightened the faintly trembling hand into a fist and walked toward the unfortunate fate waiting for him.

Seen up close, his imperial father, having failed to sever at once his tough and tenacious constitution, was writhing. But around his lips floated a peaceful smile. The relief of having finally found rest.

His imperial father's pupils wavered several times before landing on Hwi. He gave a slight nod and closed his eyes. And then complete stillness.

An excruciating burning pain began to crawl up from the tips of his fingers and toes. The same pain he had felt when first undergoing Gakchim came charging at him as though to kill its owner. The physician had said this was a hallucination and not pain that actually existed, but Hwi had to endure the impulse to tear the man apart for spouting such leisurely nonsense.

Hwi slowly looked over his imperial father from head to toe. To make real his death, his end.

His feet, not yet fully grown, changed direction. Hwi walked back the way he had come, not sinking into grief but into anger. But before he could even savor that anger, he was counting, one by one, what he had to do, what had been left before him.

Now he would be the one sitting upon that throne. The ten-thousand subjects would look up to him, and he would have to give his remaining life to that hell.

The burning pain writhed like a worm through his veins. Hwi scratched his palm with his fingernails as though tearing the skin and clenched his fist tight.

When he flung the door open, the sky that greeted him was mockingly clear and bright. Hwi erased his expression and opened his mouth.

"Bring. My mother. Here."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Hwi stood before the door and looked up at the sun casting down its warm light. With eyes that burned coldly, as though cursing whoever might be up there.

* * *

He felt approaching footsteps and raised his head. Soon the door opened and Jeongjoo came in. When Hwi gave a look to Jeongjoo, who had come in with a troubled light in his eyes, he bowed his head and reported.

"Your Majesty. One man has fled from the Deputy Minister of Personnel's family home."

One man fled from the home of Deputy Minister Sobaekhuk? Unless this was a story about some petty thief, the main figure in question would be……

"It is said that Gukyong went out to stop him and collapsed."

"Collapsed?"

"Yes. A guard named Buseon witnessed him collapsing just from having a hand placed on his chest and is in pursuit. The runaway is believed to be a court noble of the So clan."

A court noble of the So clan. An interested look flickered across Hwi's lips. The entry into the palace had been in two weeks, hadn't it. Hwi recalled the date and asked.

"What is Gukyong's condition?"

"The physician says he has simply fallen asleep."

Simply fallen asleep — meaning a guardian star can put a Yongrin to sleep? Was it an accidental coincidence stumbled upon, or was it his pure ability? If the latter, it would truly mean that power was extraordinary……

The corner of Hwi's eye twitched for a moment.

"I have not heard news that the So clan's court noble has bloomed."

"No, that is correct. I understand he was of age to enter the palace in two weeks upon coming of age."

"Was the verification of blooming missed?"

"No. They visit the So household monthly to verify whether he has bloomed. Even at the beginning of this very month, it was confirmed he had not bloomed."

That would mean he had either bloomed in the interim, or had bloomed before and concealed it. Since the bloom scent had not erupted, it was clear he had resorted to some method.

Well, well.

The corner of Hwi's mouth tilted upward. Hwi tapped his finger on the desk cluttered with petitions and ledgers and, for the first time in a very long while, recalled his first meeting with that court noble.

'Your Majesty. It is said that the second son of the Deputy Minister of Personnel sprouted today.'

'The Deputy Minister of Personnel's?'

The face of the Deputy Minister of Personnel flashed before his eyes — acting naturally composed yet rolling his eyes with hidden scheming. That the son of someone so eager to reduce the authority of Yongrin and Yeongchunhwa had sprouted was truly a trick of fate.

Seeing his face when he heard the news must have been quite a sight. He swallowed a cynical laugh and was about to move to his seat when the words that followed stopped him.

'However, the court noble is eight years old this year…… and people are hoping that his power might be exceptional.'

Eight. Suddenly the pain that had twisted his entire body when he underwent Gakchim at seven came to mind, and his brow furrowed.

'Might you not wish to personally confirm it in person?'

Eight. Eight, he says.

Far too young. Normally even the youngest sprouted around thirteen or fourteen, so the path that child would have to traverse was daunting. And if the Emperor were to personally go and confirm it on top of that — would that truly be a good choice?

'Perhaps.'

'Your Majesty. Tomorrow is Your Majesty's Gakchim anniversary, and the So clan's court noble sprouted today, which is his own birthday…… It may be that divine will is at work.'

He had dismissed the expression "divine will" with a light sneer, but on the other hand, an expectation he had thought had completely dried up stirred. Just as he himself had undergone Gakchim at a young age — a vain and fanciful hope that this court noble who had sprouted at a young age might become his match.