It was outrageous that neither Donghyeon nor Yuwon said a word to let things get to this point. However, the fact that it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible made Hwan’s head throb.
Was Choi Yuwon from some ordinary family? Donghyeon probably couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth that Yuwon had hit him because he was worried about the aftermath. Still, Hwan thought, couldn’t he at least say that wasn’t what happened?
‘So there’s no loyalty even for that.’
Yuwon was probably delighted and sneering that someone else was taking the blame for what he’d done wrong. Or perhaps this guy had called him in targeting this from the beginning? The thought made his blood boil for a moment.
But Hwan was confident. There was no reason not to be confident.
‘Because I really didn’t do it.’
They said the truth would come out. So he thought it would soon be revealed that he hadn’t done it, and those guys making such a fuss would make some more noise and then stop.
However, contrary to Hwan’s expectations, this rumor with the provocative words “prince” and “school violence” attached became more detailed with each passing day and spread like wildfire. Eventually, it even crossed the school walls.
[I heard a prince hit someone]
[For real?]
[Is there proof?]
[My younger sibling’s friend told me]
It started from a very small online community.
But it eventually reached a level that couldn’t be ignored and passed over, and one day the PR Director even brought Hwan and Huiseo in after school and interrogated them about this matter.
“I’m asking in case a response is needed at the imperial level. Your Highness, is there any truth to this?”
Only then did Hwan realize, ‘Ah, this is serious.’
It was “school violence,” no less.
This wasn’t something that could be dismissed as the cute mischief of the troublemaker prince—if mishandled, it could seriously damage even the imperial family’s image. There were so many hyenas in the media and parliament who wanted to tear into the imperial family somehow, and there could be no better prey for them than this.
“That’s…”
At the PR Director’s question, Hwan’s eyes rolled anxiously to the side.
It wouldn’t be difficult to tell him about the circumstances.
But the reason Hwan couldn’t quite speak and kept watching for reactions was because beside him was Huiseo, and beside him was the Chief Secretary who’d rushed over sensing something was seriously wrong with this matter—in other words, Huiseo’s father was also present.
‘How much should I say to avoid letting ahjussi know?’
While he was taking his time thinking about that, the PR Director seemed to become even more anxious, apparently thinking Hwan was hesitating because he had something to hide.
“Prince Yoon, Your Highness. This is an extremely important matter.”
He urged Hwan with a stern expression. Around that time, Huiseo also signaled to Hwan with his eyes as if telling him to speak quickly. So Hwan had no choice but to stop holding out and start answering.
“It’s true that I had a conflict with that student that day. But it was just a verbal argument in the hallway… It’s true that emotions ran high and I grabbed him by the collar, but that was all—I didn’t hit him.”
“What about the story that you moved alone in the parking lot? Did you really do that?”
“That’s…”
He seemed to be continuing well, but when it finally came to that part, Hwan hesitated and couldn’t readily speak. Perhaps thinking he was afraid of getting scolded for moving alone without permission, Huiseo took over from there. If anyone was going to be scolded, he thought it should be his share for letting Hwan go alone.
“He did move alone, but it has nothing to do with that student. That day, Your Highness had left something in the classroom, so with one security guard, he went to the classroom…”
But at that moment, Hwan firmly grasped Huiseo’s hand.
As if reproaching him not to do that.
Puzzled by this, Huiseo turned his head, and Hwan was biting his lips tightly as if enduring something. Why? Not knowing the situation, Huiseo called out to him with a bewildered expression.
“…Your Highness?”
What Hwan revealed with difficulty next was a shocking story that Huiseo couldn’t dare imagine.
“…I was at that scene that day.”
“…You’re lying.”
Surprised by Hwan’s words, Huiseo muttered that involuntarily.
“What on earth do you mean by that…”
At the same time, the PR Director pressed his forehead, and the Chief Secretary, Huiseo’s father, hardened his expression. Among those various reactions, naturally Huiseo’s eyes mixed with a sense of betrayal hurt Hwan the most.
He should have explained to Huiseo beforehand, at least.
He felt so sorry for letting him find out this way after thinking it would be nothing, that it would die down soon. He wanted to grab both his hands right now and explain, “That’s not it, it’s a misunderstanding,” but the agitated PR Director in front of him completely monopolized Hwan’s attention.
“How did this happen? Can I trust your words that you didn’t hit him? Is there any evidence that you weren’t involved?”
“I have text messages…”
As he took out his phone to show them, the PR Director lunged at it as if to snatch it.
But meanwhile, the Chief Secretary, who had been looking at Huiseo with a terrifyingly stern face, gripped Huiseo’s shoulder firmly saying, “Come out for a moment.” Seeing this, Hwan became even more restless. He was clearly angry, and the atmosphere suggested that anger would be directed at Huiseo.
When it was clearly his own fault.
“Your Highness, may I speak with Huiseo separately for a moment?”
“No, wait…”
He asked politely, but in fact, he seemed to have no interest in Hwan’s answer at all. Hwan said to wait a moment, but he was already turning to go outside. The troubled Hwan shifted his bottom urgently as if to follow, but it was hopeless. He was immediately caught by the PR Director.
Hwan could only watch Huiseo’s back as he weakly stood up and followed out.
“Director Han! Can’t I go for just a moment and then come back to talk!”
“This is more urgent!”
At the PR Director’s firm attitude, Hwan had no choice but to clutch his hair as if to tear it out.
***
His father, who’d called Huiseo out of the office, immediately scolded him harshly. He was Huiseo’s father, but before that, he was the Chief Secretary of the Korean Empire’s imperial family. In his eyes, this whole matter seemed like Huiseo’s fault.
“How did you let His Highness move alone!”
There was no leniency just because he was his own son. No, rather, because Huiseo was his son, he wielded an even harsher rod than with others.
“What were you thinking…! What exactly is your job!”
Though it might be disappointing, Huiseo stood there silently accepting that harsh reprimand without saying a word. It was because he agreed with every word saying that if only he had properly assisted His Highness by his side, this wouldn’t have happened.
He was endlessly ashamed of himself, belatedly, for being drunk on that miserable feeling at the time. In fact, there had been something more important than that, but he’d missed it.
‘It was definitely strange.’
He’d thought Hwan was being admirably considerate of him.
He felt pathetic and dumbfounded at himself for thinking only the best and making things turn out this way. His face burned hot.
“Can you see what crisis has befallen the imperial family due to your inexperience!”
“…I’m sorry.”
Huiseo had nothing to say even if he had ten mouths.
If this story spread beyond this point, even if it was later revealed to be untrue, the immediate image loss and damage the imperial family would suffer was serious enough that it couldn’t be recovered. Hwan would surely go through considerable ordeal too. Thinking of the reporters and public who would tear into him mercilessly made his head spin.
“If you’re like this, how can I entrust Prince Hwan to you? I’m saying this based on your recent attitude—if you don’t want to do it, leave cleanly. No one forced you. Honestly speaking, the current you is a nuisance and a disgrace.”
At this whipping that couldn’t be any harsher, Huiseo had no choice but to clench his molars tightly.
Not wanting to do it? How could that be?
Words of protest that it wasn’t like that had risen to the end of his throat, but he knew better than anyone that far from those excuses working, they would only provoke greater anger. So Huiseo silently chewed and swallowed that sullen heart.
‘Still, it’s deserved.’
Thinking that, Huiseo smiled bitterly. Just like letting his guard down and sending Hwan alone that day, Huiseo thought this whole matter had occurred purely because of his own mistake.
He’d been arrogant.
In the end, because he’d clumsily tried to use his head, things had gotten tangled and turned out like this. While being just as clumsy himself, in trying to artificially smooth things between Hwan and his friends, he’d ended up pushing Hwan toward an even steeper cliff.
Huiseo couldn’t dare raise his head before the disastrous result he’d created.
“…It’s all my fault. I was wrong.”
It was the moment he was meekly apologizing.
Hwan, who seemed to have finally escaped the PR Director’s harassment, came bursting out and embraced Huiseo as if snatching him away. Then, regardless of the startled Huiseo and his father with wide eyes, he even raised the veins on his neck as he defended Huiseo.
“What did Huiseo do wrong! I’m the one who did wrong, I’m the one who lied, so why are you scolding Huiseo! Even if everyone else does that, Director Jeong shouldn’t do that!”
He shouldn’t. Especially not in this matter.
