“Mmm…. Why have you come so late.”
Sa Ha-hyeon mumbled with half-closed eyes. He couldn’t fight off the drowsiness. His body was so heavy with exhaustion that he half-wondered whether Wei Wuyuan’s voice might be a hallucination or a dream.
“The sun set long ago, and yet the heartless affairs of state refused to end. Even though my heart was already here the moment the sun went down.”
Wei Wuyuan rubbed his cold nose against Ha-hyeon’s nape and grumbled. In that voice there was far less of the dignity of an emperor governing an empire, and far more of the sulking of a young man, weary from the day, wanting to be consoled.
Perhaps it was because he was half-asleep. Wei Wuyuan’s words reached Ha-hyeon’s ears sounding almost unbearably endearing. For once, the boy seemed his actual age. An Emperor whining about being late because of overwork — this had to be a dream.
“You must be tired. There, there.”
Ha-hyeon opened his arms and held Wei Wuyuan. As he patted that broad back, the Emperor’s breathing gradually grew easier. The moonlight filtering through the window illuminated Wei Wuyuan’s face. As Ha-hyeon looked at him quietly, eyes cast downward, the image of the small child from his memories overlapped with the man before him. The little boy who used to clutch at Ha-hyeon’s sleeve, on the verge of tears, saying he was afraid of the dark.
“I really missed you.”
The young Wei Wuyuan from his dream speaks to Ha-hyeon. Ha-hyeon’s eyes stung with sudden tears. It was a dream he truly did not want to wake from. The moment Ha-hyeon had decided to save the young Wei Wuyuan, the child’s fate had been pulled off its original course. He was a child who had lived because of him. If that were so, wasn’t it only right to take responsibility to the end? That thought was a self-reproach that sometimes weighed heavily on Sa Ha-hyeon.
And yet — to think he became such a remarkable Emperor.
The hand patting the Emperor’s back quietly slid downward. Ha-hyeon gave Wei Wuyuan’s bottom a gentle pat, murmuring softly, as though bursting with fond pride. Not the strained, performed voice of a woman — but his own, natural voice.
“Thank you for growing up so well……. An Emperor, of all things — I wonder what an Emperor’s salary even… is. Mmm…….”
***
The next morning. When Ha-hyeon opened his eyes, the space beside him was empty. Right — he hadn’t come last night after all. Even by his own reckoning, twice in one day would have been too much. The Emperor wasn’t some cushy desk job.
“Jaein, look at this! This morning’s breakfast has three meat dishes!”
Wol came in carrying the tray, fussing excitedly. Behind her, two fresh-faced young maidservants he’d never seen before followed her in. The request Ha-hyeon had made yesterday morning — the Emperor had not forgotten it.
And so another day passed. Night came without fail, and Ha-hyeon set about the task of warming the bedding in preparation for an Emperor who might arrive at any moment.
“One, two, three. Huff. Four, fiiive. Hup.”
Sa Ha-hyeon was doing push-ups on top of the covers in his inner garment.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Wol had come in to check whether there was anything needed for bedtime and startled at the sight.
“What does it look like? I’m warming the bed. I have to make it warm before His Majesty arrives.”
“Goodness gracious. Stop that. What is that grotesque position? Have some dignity!”
Wol was horrified — even if he was only a fake concubine, it was simply unseemly to be moving his hips up and down against the floor like that.
“There’s no help for it. Whatever the method, as long as the bedding is warm.”
“Then why on earth are you warming it with your body? Just use a bed warmer.”
“……A bed what?”
“A bed warmer. Wait just a moment.”
Wol went outside and came back carrying a brass vessel about the size of a chamber pot.
“You fill this with hot water and tuck it inside the covers, and it stays warm until morning. When you have this right here, why put yourself through all that trouble?”
“That’s because…. I didn’t know such a thing existed…. Something like this was here? Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”
“Because you didn’t ask.”
So they had a hot pack here all along. To think he’d been clumsily warming things with his own body when a perfectly civilized tool existed. A hollow laugh escaped him. Still, better to know now than never. Sa Ha-hyeon tucked the bed warmer filled with hot water inside the covers.
Then, half-dozing as he waited and waited for the Emperor, a tremendous noise rang out from beyond the gate.
“His Majesty the Emperor arrives!”
Sa Ha-hyeon, who had been sprawled across the bed clutching the bed warmer, startled awake and scrambled down. He hastily straightened his clothing and dropped flat on the floor in a bow. The door opened and Wei Wuyuan strode in, wearing golden dragon robes.
“Everyone withdraw.”
At Wei Wuyuan’s word, the eunuchs and palace servants who had followed him all filed outside at once. Only Wei Wuyuan and Sa Ha-hyeon remained in the room. The Emperor set aside the ceremonial hat on his head, loosened the jade belt at his waist, and began undoing the knots of his robes. Sa Ha-hyeon quickly lowered his eyes.
“Jaein, why are you just standing there?”
“Yes…? Oh.”
He wants me to help undress him? It was only then that Ha-hyeon realized with a start and hurried over to the Emperor. He carefully removed the heavy dragon robes. Beneath them were several more layers of clothing. Ha-hyeon kept undressing the Emperor, one layer after another, until the white inner garment appeared.
“Your hands are not unpleasant.”
“You honor me greatly.”
Sa Ha-hyeon was crouching at the Emperor’s feet, ready to receive his trousers, when Wei Wuyuan tilted Ha-hyeon’s chin up lightly and met his eyes.
“From now on, I will no longer call you Jaein. I am granting you the rank of Yeong-ui.”
“……Pardon?”
Yeong-ui? Ha-hyeon didn’t know what that meant. He knew of the title Chief State Councillor, but that clearly wasn’t what Wei Wuyuan was referring to.
“It is the position that manages and attends to the clothing of Our bedchamber. Two ranks above Jaein.”
Insane. Did I just get promoted? And by two ranks at once? That’s a meteoric rise. No — all I did was help him undress, and I’m getting promoted? Is this real?
Ha-hyeon was stunned.
“Your Majesty’s grace is boundless. This humble consort will tend to Your Majesty’s garments as if guarding her own life.”
“Enough of that — come and lie down.”
The Emperor lay down first. Ha-hyeon put out the lamp in the room and lay carefully down beside him. Having been promoted, he felt he ought to earn his keep — but he hadn’t the faintest idea where to begin.
“Your Majesty, how shall I give you a massage?”
“No need for a massage. That is unnecessary. Simply stay like this.”
Before the words were even finished, Wei Wuyuan’s firm arm wrapped around Ha-hyeon’s waist and pulled. Ha-hyeon’s back was pressed flush against Wei Wuyuan’s chest without a single gap between them. Sa Ha-hyeon felt very much as though he had become the Emperor’s beloved stuffed toy.
The Emperor’s embrace was warm and broad. Even Sa Ha-hyeon, who was not a small man, was comfortably enclosed within it.
But the position was not entirely comfortable for Ha-hyeon. He kept every nerve on edge — wondering whether a hand might slip under his clothes, whether his backside might be groped. And yet Wei Wuyuan did nothing of the sort. He simply buried his face in Ha-hyeon’s nape, drew a few deep breaths, and then, as if by magic, the tension drained out of his body completely.
Hush, hush. Almost immediately, the sound of regular, even breathing echoed above his head. That breathing was so tranquil and drowsy that it was contagious, spreading even to Ha-hyeon, who had been wound so tightly. The warm body heat coming from behind, and the comfortable, just-right weight of an arm, made his eyelids impossibly heavy.
He could barely tell whether he was the one attending the Emperor’s sleep, or whether it was the other way around.
In the end, Ha-hyeon gave up resisting. Using the Emperor’s arm as a cozy blanket, he too drifted helplessly down into the depths of deep sleep.
***
Sa Ha-hyeon’s days settled into a simple, strangely surreal rhythm.
Wei Wuyuan came to Ha-hyeon’s quarters every single day. There was no fixed time. Some days he appeared in the middle of afternoon court business and took a brief nap for about the time it takes to eat a meal before leaving. Other days he arrived the moment the sun set and stayed the whole night. And some days he came stumbling in just before dawn, dozed for a short while, and left.
The important thing was that through every one of those visits, the Emperor made no demand of Ha-hyeon whatsoever beyond lying beside him.
Sa Ha-hyeon had been tense at first, worrying that the quietly lying Emperor might suddenly turn and strip off his clothes or demand another bizarre massage — but at some point, he had adapted completely to this strange arrangement of sharing a bed. All he had to do was lie there without lifting a finger, and meat dishes and silk robes came pouring in. What sort of job in the world could possibly be better than this?
And then one day, it seemed the Emperor had grown concerned that Ha-hyeon was bored, confined within the palace — and sent an unexpected gift.
“Yeong-ui, this is a martial arts instructor sent by His Majesty to relieve your boredom.”
“Martial arts?”
“Yes. His Majesty heard that before entering the palace, you practiced martial arts for your health. He says that being confined to such a small palace day after day is sure to weaken the body and spirit, and that you should train a little each day to maintain your health. Come in.”
At the eunuch’s words, a tall man entered the courtyard. He appeared to be around Ha-hyeon’s age, with long hair reaching to his waist, tied loosely and left to hang. However rigorously he had trained his martial arts, a sharp, unwavering presence radiated from him even just standing still. His face was strikingly handsome as well, easily rivaling any actor. Sa Ha-hyeon’s martial arts instructor knelt on one knee and bowed his head deeply. The eunuch added from beside him.
“He cannot speak. However, his ears hear clearly, so if you need anything, simply give the order.”
“Is that so.”
How are we supposed to train martial arts if we can’t communicate? But then again, he was sent by the Emperor — I suppose I’ll trust that. And Ha-hyeon’s concern turned out to be unfounded. The man led Ha-hyeon with remarkable agility, not a single word spoken. Eye contact, hand signals, and the sensation of clashing blades proved more than enough to communicate.
Taking up a familiar sword and working up a sweat after such a long time — it felt as though a blockage that had been choking him had blown wide open. All the stress drained away. But alongside that, there was an uneasy feeling that lingered. A concubine, of all things — is this really alright…?
And so the strange double life continued — gripping a cool sword hilt by day, and being held in the warm arms of the Emperor by night — until one evening.
Wei Wuyuan was lying on the bed as he always did, holding Ha-hyeon tightly in his arms. But tonight, rather than settling straight into sleep, he was absently squeezing and kneading Ha-hyeon’s forearm. The Emperor’s large hand moved slowly over the area around Ha-hyeon’s bicep.
“Your arm has gotten quite firm.”
Wei Wuyuan’s fingers pressed into the muscle, slightly pumped from training. A chill went down Ha-hyeon’s spine. Maybe I should have gone a little easier after all.
“Don’t stop — keep training.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
Well. What an unusual set of tastes this Emperor has.
Footnote:
Yeong-ui — (rank two levels above Jaein; manages the Emperor’s bedchamber clothing)
