Da-on swallowed hard and felt a sudden sense of déjà vu.
These dishes…
Why did they look so familiar? As he tilted his head wondering, his eyes landed on a translucent jelly.
“Oh, a Valkyrie?”
A huge smile spread across Da-on’s mouth. Just looking at it brought back the taste and texture of that time.
Come to think of it, the table held only dishes Da-on had liked. Atar had fed him one of each kind — he must have remembered every single reaction.
It wasn’t even only food he’d been fed by Atar.
There was the jerky he’d rationed crossing the desert, the poultry dishes he’d devoured like mad at the inn. How did he know all this — though the source of the information was so transparent it made Da-on a little heated.
‘It must be Tashishi.’
Both of them were equally shady. What was he planning to do with that kind of information?
It left a bad taste, but filling his stomach came first. He picked up his spoon and chopsticks.
Watching Da-on bolt his food, Atar smiled triumphantly.
The head seat of the banquet hall overlooked everyone — which also meant everyone could look at the emperor.
It was a sight never before seen. What was that thing on His Majesty’s lap? People murmured at the rare spectacle.
“He’s… the royal concubine?”
“Watch your mouth. What if the goddess curses you?”
“Am I the only one who can see that necklace?”
Rumors travel faster than wind. The tantalizing phrase “the goddess’s gift” had already spread throughout the empire, and in the palace where it began, there was no one who hadn’t heard it.
Even before Da-on appeared, people had been waiting for the goddess’s gift to show. And now the “gift” had appeared wearing a heliodor necklace that marked a sex slave — and was sitting on His Majesty’s lap besides. It was the birthplace of a brand-new rumor.
The stares fixed on the two of them were beyond counting.
Among them, one gaze in particular glared at Da-on with livid intensity.
Bangs cut short just above the eyebrows, cool wide-open eyes, delicate features. Sisia Glope, the dancer famed as the most beautiful in the troupe, was staring at Da-on as if to devour him.
So that was the goddess’s gift.
Beauty, plain — there’d been so much talk. Beauty, my ass. Every element of the face, eyes, nose, mouth included, was so dull it made him yawn. And that scrawny, unimpressive body? He seemed taller than Sisia, but stuck beside the towering His Majesty, he looked ridiculous.
Someone approached Sisia, whose eyes were shooting sparks.
“Sisia.”
“Ah, Father.”
It was Sisia’s father, Fleur.
It was obvious where his son was looking. Who wouldn’t look at His Majesty and Corax-nim? But in all of Quantara, his son was the only one glaring at Corax-nim as if he wanted to chew him up and spit him out. Fleur clicked his tongue in exasperation.
“Mind your eyes. In the palace, even a gaze carries weight.”
“…Understood.”
Sisia quietly lowered his eyes. A voice far too low to suit him flowed out. Sisia had such a pretty face that nine out of ten mistook him for a woman, but his voice was quite deep.
Sensing that his son harbored no small grudge against Corax, Fleur stepped forward.
“What are you thinking, walking around like that? If His Majesty saw you, your eyes would be gouged out.”
“…”
At his father’s scolding, Sisia bit his lip hard.
“But…?”
“But?”
“How can he dote on someone like that? If he looked like a monster, I’d understand. But look at him! Anyone with eyes, just look!”
Alarmed by Sisia’s outburst, Fleur seized his son’s arm and dragged him outside, grateful that the music was loud and no one was listening to their conversation.
Dragging Sisia to a deserted spot outside the banquet hall, Fleur barked at him.
“That’s exactly why you can’t catch His Majesty’s eye!”
“Ah, Father…!”
“You foolish boy, thinking looks are everything. To bring up something that would vanish with a single scorching before the goddess’s gift…” Fleur pounded his own chest in frustration.
If the troupe’s performance hadn’t been about to start, he would have beaten his son black and blue. Wasn’t it a father’s duty to knock some sense into him, even like this?
Before his fuming father, Sisia’s face crumpled. Why? What was he lacking? The resentment wouldn’t die down. And hadn’t his father wanted him to catch His Majesty’s eye more than anyone? What had he devoted his whole life to?
Fleur frowned at his son, who still hadn’t come to his senses.
The fool. He clearly had no idea what order His Majesty had given for Corax’s sake. The rumor had spread through the whole troupe, but he was so distracted he’d been the only one not to hear it.
Last night, His Majesty had personally come to the troupe while they were practicing late. To Fleur, who’d pressed his forehead to the floor in a bow, His Majesty had given a single order:
“Prepare a solo by the young terracord player.”
A solo by the troupe’s youngest child.
Yeonri was skilled for a young age, but not nearly skilled enough to perform a solo before the emperor.
Fleur thought his days with the troupe were over that very day. No matter how talented, the child was still unripe. There was no way someone that small could overcome the pressure and play well.
He’d already lost no few troupe members to His Majesty’s hand. If they carelessly offended His Majesty’s ears, it wouldn’t just be the small child’s neck — the entire troupe’s safety would be at stake.
So Fleur had risked punishment and objected.
“Fo-forgive me, Your Majesty! The child is skilled, but still only an eleven-year-old child! Such a grand stage alone is too much…”
“Enough, enough.”
Fleur’s rambling was cut short at once.
Atar waved a hand with an uninterested expression. Before the emperor, the words “can’t” and “impossible” did not exist.
Cold sweat streamed down Fleur’s temples. Only half a day remained until the closing ceremony. Even a seasoned adult professional would be pressed for time. Could an eleven-year-old possibly manage?
To the tense Fleur, Atar said generously:
“Don’t worry. I’m not asking for a perfect performance. As long as it makes sound, even a mess will do.”
At the emperor’s gentle tone, Fleur swallowed hard. His Majesty’s mood was rarely this good.
Just like… in the central garden.
At Atar’s uncharacteristic words and manner, a strange courage surged in Fleur. So he asked a question he never would have asked otherwise.
“If I may be so bold… might I ask why you request Yeonri’s solo?”
Fleur raised his head with a grave expression. At the unexpected question, Atar pressed his lips together and blinked.
Why request the solo.
The question genuinely perplexed Atar. He’d only thought to request it; he’d never considered why he was personally requesting such a paltry performance. The vague reason condensed into a single word through the question.
“…Corax.”
Atar’s eyes narrowed. If there was a reason, it was only one.
“Corax took a liking to the child’s playing.”
The skinny body he’d been toying with until just before came to mind. He’d tormented Corax long after he fell asleep — he might not wake until late.
Atar pressed his lips together. A grown man, shamelessly leaking tears.
Picturing the white face collapsed as if fainting from exhaustion, Atar smiled faintly.
Witnessing the emperor’s smile, Fleur’s shoulders flinched. He slowly rose and bowed deeply before the emperor.
“I shall prepare so that Your Majesty may fully enjoy it.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
Atar patted Fleur’s shoulder encouragingly and turned away. Watching His Majesty’s retreating back, Fleur secretly clenched his fist.
‘…This is a far bigger fish than I expected.’
Born a provincial commoner, Fleur had come to the capital with nothing and made his place all the way to the palace. What could matter more in the palace than backing the right person?
As a commoner, his standing in the palace had its limits. Until now he’d hoped his son — who took after his mother — would catch His Majesty’s eye. With just the title of the emperor’s beloved concubine, his life would change completely. How many days had he sighed, wishing the boy had been born a daughter instead?
…And yet His Majesty was requesting even paltry music for one person’s sake.
A new card had just been dealt into Fleur’s hand. Not an old, rotten card — a far stronger one. The stifling, stagnant situation cleared, and a sharper, clearer path appeared.
Fleur glared at his son, who had no intention of accepting his words.
After years in the palace, to be this oblivious. He was clearly still dreaming of His Majesty, nursing empty hopes.
Lest foolish Sisia scheme anything pointless, Fleur pointed a finger and warned him firmly.
“You, never cross Corax-nim. His Majesty’s side is no longer yours!”
“Father!”
“Fine. Why not aim for the spot of Corax-nim’s conversation partner instead? Corax-nim is soft-hearted and not strong-willed — that would suit you.”
At Fleur’s words, Sisia bit his lip, his expression bleak.
It was his father who’d planted the dream of standing at His Majesty’s side. How could he discard him so easily? He’d watched Sisia cough up blood learning dance and song — how could he?
Sisia’s quietly seething heart went cold.
‘Corax-nim’s conversation partner.’
It sounded rather sweet.
Head bowed, Sisia gathered his thoughts, then slowly raised his head. Toward his father, who was still watching him with pity, he lifted the corners of his mouth brightly — as lovely a smile as befitted the dancer called the finest in Quantara.
“Yes, Father. I’ll do as you say.”
Roses are most beautiful not in an overgrown flowerbed but arranged in a vase — especially with white baby’s breath to deepen the red.
***
“Wow, fuck. Now I feel alive.”
Da-on crammed food into his mouth greedily, exhaling through his nose as he worked his jaw. Atar babbled beside him — he looked like a beggar, like a starving ghost — but not a word reached Da-on’s ears. Better a full beggar than a hungry noble.
Watching him, Atar held back his laughter. He pushed a plate toward Da-on and spoke.
“Since when did your mouth get so big? You could barely take a cock in it properly.”
“….Guh! Cough!”
At the mind-attacking remark, Da-on hurriedly covered his mouth. Thanks to that, he avoided the disaster of food spraying everywhere.
With a sickened face, he chewed the food in his mouth thoroughly and swallowed. A small giggle reached his ear.
Hah. He let out a small sigh. Suppressing his irritation, he looked at Atar.
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