Sa Ha-hyeon’s performance with the bow in hand was nothing short of masterful. Just as he had done when he first picked up a sword, he pretended to be unfamiliar and clumsy — turning the bow this way and that, fumbling with it awkwardly. Even Wol, who had been watching from the side, couldn’t help but step in.
“Oh my. Your Grace, if you hold it like that, you’ll end up shooting yourself.”
“Oh, is that so?”
The Martial Arts Instructor approached without a word and corrected Ha-hyeon’s form. The hands that pressed down on his shoulders and lifted his elbows were so precise and careful that Ha-hyeon almost felt like one of the young girls sitting in a row beneath the shade, watching the Martial Arts Instructor with admiring eyes.
“Is this how I hold it?”
The Instructor nodded. The grip technique he demonstrated was slightly different from what Ha-hyeon had known up until now.
Following the Instructor’s guidance, Ha-hyeon drew the bowstring up to his chin. He was timing the release of his fingers when the Instructor reached his arms around Ha-hyeon from behind — and then a rough, masculine hand closed over Ha-hyeon’s and pulled the bowstring back together with him.
The string was drawn so taut that Ha-hyeon’s back ached from the strain. Then, as if signaling that it was time to release, the Instructor tapped Ha-hyeon’s fingers twice. The moment the fingers let go, the man gave the wrist holding the bow a sharp inward twist.
The arrow tore through the air like a drill, launching with ferocious speed. The target it struck split clean in two and tumbled to the ground. Wol and the maidservants clasped their hands over their mouths in shock. Even Sa Ha-hyeon himself blinked in disbelief at what had just unfolded before his eyes. The only one who wasn’t surprised was the Martial Arts Instructor.
“……It’s rather a grim thing to say, but with destructive force like that, one could certainly kill a person.”
The Instructor smiled at Ha-hyeon’s words. It was a smile Ha-hyeon had never seen from him before. No matter how disastrously Ha-hyeon performed or how impressively he excelled, the man had always remained as expressionless as a stone Buddha. That such a person would smile at a comment about being able to kill someone — it sent a chill down Ha-hyeon’s spine.
The Instructor quietly handed him a fresh arrow, and Ha-hyeon, as though entranced, drew the bowstring again. At first, it had only been about preparing for the unexpected. But now, he was completely absorbed in the learning itself. The thrill of an arrow piercing its mark — that raw, primal rush of exhilaration — was so intoxicating that Sa Ha-hyeon lost himself entirely, forgetting even that the skin of his fingers was tearing and his back muscles were screaming in protest.
***
That night, after washing up and changing into his sleeping robe, Ha-hyeon made his way toward the bed.
Any other time, Wei Wuyuan would have waited for Ha-hyeon to arrive — but tonight, for some reason, he had already settled in and was lying down. Moving closer, Ha-hyeon could hear the quiet, steady rhythm of his breathing. Beneath his closed eyelids, his thick lashes cast deep shadows across his face. It was not the face of an Emperor who commanded the world, but simply the face of a strikingly handsome man worn down by exhaustion.
Looks like today was rough for him.
Not wanting to wake him from his deep sleep, Ha-hyeon killed every sound he made and carefully slipped beneath the blankets. But his weary body refused to cooperate.
“Ugh……. Oh, my back.”
Against his will, a groan escaped his lips. Wei Wuyuan’s closed eyes slid open. He reached out and snatched Ha-hyeon’s hovering waist — suspended awkwardly mid-air — and laid him down beside him.
“Ah — Your Majesty.”
Ha-hyeon let out a sharp yelp as he tumbled onto the bed, and Wei Wuyuan’s hands moved as if they had been waiting for exactly this moment, beginning to travel over Ha-hyeon’s body. He smoothed down Ha-hyeon’s stiff, tension-locked back, then trailed his hands down along his forearms. Wei Wuyuan’s fingers came to a stop at Ha-hyeon’s right hand. He carefully traced over Ha-hyeon’s thumb, swollen and riddled with blisters.
“What on earth were you doing to get blisters like this on your hand?”
A cold sweat ran down Ha-hyeon’s spine. Could he honestly say he’d been obsessively shooting arrows all day and kept drawing the bowstring over and over? No — even so, it was too much. For a concubine to have practiced until his hands looked like this would be going too far.
Ha-hyeon’s eyes darted around before he offered a different excuse.
“I was learning to sew, and I’m afraid……”
“Sewing?”
“Yes…. I thought perhaps I might make you a pair of socks myself……”
Socks, at least, might be something he could learn quickly enough to actually present. If it came down to it.
“Pointless.”
“Pardon?”
“I have no need for socks made by those hands. Stop at once starting tomorrow. If you truly have nothing to do, you’d be better off taking a nap instead.”
“Do you truly have no need for them?”
Limited edition, though.
Ha-hyeon hadn’t even made the socks yet, and still felt a pang of hurt at being told they weren’t needed.
“And here I thought Yeong-ui had been so devoted to mastering the martial arts that it had taken a toll on his body. But you’re worn down from something as trivial as sewing?”
Without warning, Wei Wuyuan’s thumb pressed firmly into the inner edge of Ha-hyeon’s shoulder blade.
“Hgh!”
“Hold still.”
Ignoring Ha-hyeon’s cry entirely, Wei Wuyuan began pressing in steadily. For a brief moment the pain was so intense it raised goosebumps — and then, gradually, the aching shoulder began to loosen and ease.
“Mmmmh……”
A long groan escaped Ha-hyeon’s lips. It was not the kind of sound one would expect from a concubine — it was precisely the sort of sound a middle-aged man would make sinking into the hot bath of a jjimjilbang.
“Heh.”
Wei Wuyuan’s shoulders shook.
“I — I apologize. It just felt so good that I couldn’t help it.”
“I usually forget that Yeong-ui is older than me, but hearing a sound like that — I’m reminded all over again. Watching you groan over every aching bone in your body… truly, the years cannot be deceived.”
“……!”
That was a bit too much like treating him as an old man. Ha-hyeon was left speechless.
“Tonight, I shall offer special reverence to my elder.”
He was just about to snap back with something sharp about whether he was going to be fitted for a walking cane — but then Wei Wuyuan burrowed deep into Ha-hyeon’s embrace. He curled his body in close and pressed his cheek against Ha-hyeon’s chest.
Huh?
Ha-hyeon looked down, and there it was — the top of Wei Wuyuan’s dark head, the sharp, elegant line of his nose. And then firm arms wrapped all the way around Ha-hyeon and held him close. Looking at the Emperor curled up against him like a child, Sa Ha-hyeon found himself thinking — he usually forgot that Wei Wuyuan was younger than him, but seeing him like this, he looked every bit like nothing more than a boy.
Normally, it was Sa Ha-hyeon who would nestle against Wei Wuyuan. Because the Emperor liked it that way. But tonight — calling it special reverence for his elder and coming in first to be held like this…
What is this. He’s kind of adorable.
The Emperor who commanded all under heaven — curled up in someone’s arms and acting like a child. As if in a daze, Ha-hyeon lifted his hand. And before he knew what he was doing, he was gently stroking Wei Wuyuan’s hair. The strands slipped between his fingers like silk. As one might praise a well-behaved child, or tenderly touch a beloved — he repeated the motion, again and again.
Wait, am I out of my mind. Have I gone insane.
Ha-hyeon’s hand froze mid-air. A cold sweat rolled down his spine. He was actually stroking the head of His Majesty the Emperor? Did he have a death wish? Wasn’t this the gravest of all acts of disrespect — the highest form of lèse-majesté? He began to quietly pull his hand away. The Emperor caught it in his grasp.
“It feels good. So don’t stop — keep going.”
“……Are you serious?”
“Yes. It feels good, so keep going, I said. Until I fall asleep. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll have you charged with lèse-majesté — bear that in mind.”
Wei Wuyuan released the hand he had caught around Ha-hyeon’s wrist, and settled back into an easy, comfortable breath. What else could he do? He’d been told that not stroking him was an act of disrespect. Now that he had the excuse of avoiding a lèse-majesté charge, Ha-hyeon stroked Wei Wuyuan’s hair to his heart’s content.
With the steady rhythm of the touch, the Emperor’s breathing gradually deepened. Ha-hyeon looked down at the man sleeping without guard in his arms, and fell into quiet thought.
Having shared the same blanket and slept skin to skin every night like this — somewhere along the way, it seems I’ve grown fond of him, for better or worse.
Exchanging silly jokes about elder reverence and all that, sharing warmth like this so naturally in the night. Since being cast into this desolate palace, he had always lived on edge — but tonight, just tonight, it felt as though he had returned to some ordinary night from a past life.
People said the Emperor was young and capable, but without warmth. A cold-blooded man without an ounce of feeling……
But the Wei Wuyuan Ha-hyeon saw before him was nothing like that at all. He was a man who could say he was tired when he was tired, who longed for a gentle touch, and who could sometimes be as childlike and endearing as a boy — an utterly, profoundly human man.
Sa Ha-hyeon gazed with tender eyes at the Emperor sleeping soundly in his arms, lost to the world. The hand softly stroking his hair slowed, little by little. And so, another peaceful night quietly drew to a close.
