“Your Highness, the day is damp and the arrows have taken on moisture — pray stop….”
Won Yun-sang stepped forward after the repeated misses, but Hyeon-wi refused with an outstretched hand. A young guardsman laid an arrow from the quiver across his palm.
He drew and loosed in one motion.
As if to cut his brooding short.
The blue flag waved again.
“Is that the last arrow?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As if to prove the guardsman’s words, the quiver stood empty. Only then did Hyeon-wi hand over the bow he had been gripping and leave the training ground.
Once he went in and set his appearance to rights, he would take his midday meal, then go to Geonwon Palace to assist his father the Emperor with the myriad affairs of state. After that, back at Gyeongchun Palace, he was to discuss the classics at Sigangwon. Hyeon-wi counted off his routine — fixed, unchanging, never straying from its frame barring something extraordinary — one by one. For the same reason he had loosed those aimless shots.
That is: before the things that defied all reason could churn his mind into a mess and root through it.
Choosing to walk rather than ride the royal carriage, Hyeon-wi’s stride was broad and swift. He thought he heard panting behind him, but that was none of his concern.
“We greet the Crown Prince.”
“We greet Your Highness.”
His stride slowed — because of the party approaching from the opposite side.
“You are on your way back from the training ground, I see, Your Highness.”
The one who read his day’s schedule from his cheollik garb was Seo Jae-pil, Left Companion of the Sigangwon.
“Yes. I mean to change only my robes, then go assist His Majesty.”
Hyeon-wi’s answer, with a slight bow of the head, was directed at Seo Jae-pil — but his gaze rested on Woo Hui-won, standing behind him.
When Hyeon-wi’s eyes found him, Woo Hui-won bowed his head.
Ever since Hui-seo’s entry into the palace had loomed, he had been letting his mind wander; now, as if that had never been, Woo Hui-won had recovered his old self in no time.
Discussing the classics before Hyeon-wi alongside the other Sigangwon scholars, he was unfailingly proper and unshaken throughout.
When Hyeon-wi visited Cheongu-dang every other day, and now too — when it was nearly half a month since he had last gone.
None dared chatter to his face, but the rumors drifting through the palace were no secret to Hyeon-wi either.
The talk of the day was, of course, Woo Hui-seo. In truth he had been the talk since before he entered the palace, so “of the day” was absurd.
The recent rumor went like this, anyway.
The Crown Prince’s favor had run its course, they said. Had it been a fleeting springtime fling after all? But then, he hadn’t visited Yeongha-dang either — was His Highness merely busy? And so on.
The rumor, leaping the high walls of the rear palace, seemed to grow feet and spread to every corner of the palace — from the one in the highest seat to the lowliest ears.
But Woo Hui-won could not have failed to hear it.
How could his heart not ache for his younger brother’s misfortune?
“You are so busy of late — whatever shall we do? You must take care of your precious body, Your Highness.”
Seo Jae-pil’s gaze flicked briefly to Woo Hui-won. The hero of the circulating rumor being Woo Hui-won’s younger brother, the remark seemed meant with him in mind. It was just like him — the most meddlesome of the Sigangwon scholars.
Busy, indeed.
Too flimsy an excuse to serve as a cover.
Before Hui-seo’s entry into the palace and after it, Hyeon-wi’s days had not changed. A little busier or a little idler at times, perhaps — but that was all.
Hyeon-wi tilted his head to one side.
“Was this student of yours so very busy?”
Discomfort crossed Seo Jae-pil’s eyes.
The words with which he had meant to reproach Woo Hui-won once they left this place had all been reduced, by his vague denial, to a useless string of words.
And Woo Hui-won remained serenely still.
“Ah. Hearing my teacher’s words and looking back, I suppose it has been like that all along.”
Keeping his unruffled expression, Hyeon-wi rolled the words off the tip of his tongue.
“It would be troublesome if he were to sulk.”
Plainly, he meant Woo Hui-seo.
“Ha, haha….”
Seo Jae-pil laughed, his eyes rolling.
At last Woo Hui-won’s composure cracked. He tried to hide it at once, but Hyeon-wi — who had been watching him all along — had already read it.
Earnestness, worry and concern, affection. A helpless, longing ache.
Woo Hui-won only tried not to show it; inside, he was slowly festering, exactly as Hyeon-wi intended.
If asked whether he was glad of it, he couldn’t say.
The sight of Hui-won crumbling was what he had always wished to see, yet now that he had seen it, his stomach twisted strangely.
How laughable.
Perhaps it was because there was something familiar in Hui-won’s expression — like the one Hui-seo had worn at Geonwon Palace over dinner, when he spoke of meeting his brother again.
Perhaps because he had recalled that day, the cool body temperature that had touched his hand flowed of its own accord into his memory.
He who had forgotten how to keep anyone by his side, who could not sleep unless alone — even the fact that he had slept with Hui-seo beside him, if only for the briefest moment.
For the past fortnight he had tried so hard not to think of it, yet once the floodgate opened, the memories came in a chain, rankling him.
A drop of water plopped onto the bridge of Je Hyeon-wi’s nose as he nearly furrowed his brow without thinking.
He glanced up. The dark clouds that had covered the sky all along were finally beginning to shake loose raindrops.
“What are you doing? Hold the parasol over him!”
At Won Yu-sang’s command, the palace servants moved as one. Soon a parasol was spread above Je Hyeon-wi’s head.
“Your Highness. Before the rain grows heavier, please return to your residence. In half a shijin you must attend the grand audience as well, must you not.”
With words that subtly hurried their steps, Won Yu-sang gave Seo Jae-deul a meaningful look.
“Your servant has detained Your Highness’s steps too long. Before the rain grows heavier, please return to your residence promptly.”
Catching Won Yu-sang’s signal, Seo Jae-deul was the first to speak the farewell. Had it not rained, Je Hyeon-wi would have been the first to leave the spot, and Hui-won had no thought of detaining them further.
When Hui-won, who owed them a separate farewell of his own, fell silent, Seo Jae-deul nudged him with an elbow.
Hui-won, who had been biting his lip gazing at the rainy sky, only then grasped the situation and spoke meekly.
“…Please depart promptly, Your Highness. I shall see you at the Siganwon at yu-si.”
Though a little late, it was impeccable, decorous, and courteous. Je Hyeon-wi looked at him, then wordlessly turned away.
As Je Hyeon-wi moved, the servants stayed glued close, the parasol held high over him.
“Won Yu-sang.”
When they had passed the fork in the road and were nearly out of sight, Je Hyeon-wi opened his mouth, which had been shut all along.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Won Yu-sang hurried to fall in half a step behind, listening closely.
Instead of parting his lips again, Je Hyeon-wi looked up at the sky, as Hui-won had done a moment before. The sky, packed tight with dark clouds, was gloomy without a shred of sunlight. The air had been damp and heavy for days, as if heralding the coming rainy season, so the falling rain would not easily let up.
It would not let up.
Then would thunder strike as well? Would you cover your ears, all alone, and tremble?
“…Your Highness?”
Hui-seo, who had nestled into his arms; Hui-seo, who had held his hand — the memory crossed his mind.
“It is nothing.”
But soon he brushed it away like raindrops.
As if he had never thought it.
Je Hyeon-wi looked on, feigning not to notice the hairline crack that had opened somewhere inside his heart.
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