Dream of Affection (Completed)

From that day, everything changed.

First of all, my house arrest was lifted. And then came a deluge of gifts—enough to fill four carts. These gifts included tribute items I had seen at the recent birthday banquet and many things I had never laid eyes on before. The important thing was that all of them were exceptionally precious.

They were items meant to be distributed among the consorts—the Empress, the Noble Consort, even the Empress Dowager. Yet he sent all these gifts to me. Even if I were getting married, receiving this much would be excessive.

In the end, I submitted a memorial to the throne. It was an audacious act for a princess, but accepting these items without contest would certainly bring trouble—immense trouble. How could a princess live after turning all the palace consorts into enemies?

It was said that even the Empress was outraged. If she was angry over gifts given to her own daughter, how would the other consorts feel? The situation needed to be contained quickly. I resolved to write the memorial as delicately as possible, emphasizing that I was not being disloyal, and decided to present it in person. Dressing in plain clothes to symbolize my apology, I strengthened my resolve and went to the audience chamber.

But as soon as he saw me walking in, he set aside the document he was reading and burst out laughing. I didn’t know what amused him so, but he seemed genuinely entertained. Just as I finished bowing and was about to speak, he shook his head.

“You cannot return the gifts.”

Ah, I hadn’t even said a word yet…

“I wish I could discuss this with you at length, but a war has broken out between Zhong and Yin. As you know, this conflict has erupted numerous times, and both nations’ people are weary. Civilians are gathering in Sujin Fortress, but since they don’t get along, the security of the city is poor. I may need to send troops. I can’t afford to waste time debating over gifts given to a princess.”

Sujin Fortress is the westernmost border of our kingdom. It has always been problematic—trade flourished there, but so did all sorts of unsavory things, as the Crown Prince once wryly mentioned. Yet, it is an extremely crucial stronghold.

“I once told you why Sujin Fortress is important. Do you remember?”

“It pays the highest taxes and tributes in the realm.”

My husband often spoke to me about his work, so I was familiar with most matters. His smile grew deeper at my absent-minded answer.

“Yes, it generates the most revenue. Maintaining its security is vital… You remember well.”

You remember well.

His words startled me, and I looked up. What did I just say? I had fallen for a leading question. His Majesty had just verified whether or not I was Shim Seo-hye. I had never explicitly revealed who I was. How could I fall for such a simple ploy?

I quickly composed my frozen expression. Reacting in shock and dismay would not help. I put on a calm face and looked at him again. He was observing me the entire time. When our eyes met, he smiled again, as if he’d seen through my attempt to regain my composure.

“Return to the palace.”

And with the gentlest voice in the world, he dismissed me.

A few days passed.

The atmosphere in the palace was as if caught in a dizzying whirlwind. Not only had my confinement been lifted, but everyone was also taken aback by His Majesty’s sudden favor toward me, who had previously been overlooked.

Each evening, he shared a meal with me, complete with wine. He acted as if we had returned to old times, discussing state affairs daily—what had happened, with whom, and what points of contention arose. The conversations were even more extensive and profound than when he was Crown Prince.

“You always seem to enjoy listening to these stories.”

He smiled while tipping his glass. The eye hidden behind the mask narrowed slightly. I found myself wondering about the other side of his face. What could have caused such a scar?

“I never realized you enjoyed refined pursuits before…”

I couldn’t call myself ‘your servant’ or ‘this maiden.’ I didn’t know how to refer to myself. He didn’t bother pointing out my hesitance either. Our relationship had become ambiguous.

“I don’t enjoy them.”

“……”

“I’m merely a man who can’t go without a drink.”

I was taken aback. I never thought of him as someone who relied on alcohol. He had a reputation for strict self-discipline. He shunned indulgence and was known for being almost obsessively austere—so how had he become someone who couldn’t live without drink?

“Since Her Grace passed…”

His Majesty’s gaze fell upon the wine cup, yet it was clear he wasn’t really seeing the drink within. Instead, his thoughts seemed to wander back to some distant day in the past.

“I haven’t been able to sleep well.”

“……”

“But enough about me. How is it, living as Yu-eum? I hoped you might feel a little of that freedom.”

His words took me by surprise. I had assumed His Majesty wouldn’t think fondly of Princess Yu-eum’s image. Yet he spoke of her without disdain, even appearing to view her favorably. Was it simply because she was his daughter? From what I’d heard, she had been a reckless princess…

I was silent, unable to form a response, so he chuckled, adding, “Though it doesn’t suit you much.” He then tilted the bottle and refilled his cup. Since he had dismissed all attendants to be alone with me, he had to pour for himself. I wasn’t sure if I should take over, so I merely stared at the bottle, hesitant. That’s when he spoke.

“No. I can pour myself.”

It was astonishing to see His Majesty, of all people, serving his own drink.

The atmosphere was unbearably tense. As I absentmindedly cupped my cheek, I found my eyes fixed on his hand holding the bottle. He subtly withdrew his hand when he noticed my gaze. When I looked up in surprise, he offered an awkward smile.

“There’s a scar.”

It seemed he was slightly embarrassed to show it. I found myself at a loss, staring back at him. How had he gotten such a scar? I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask. He seemed unwilling to speak about himself.

A mournful tune carried on the night breeze, the sound of a pipa being played somewhere. The melancholy notes tugged at my heart. Who could be playing such a sorrowful song?

“It is Consort Chae.”

“…Pardon?”

“The person playing the pipa, I mean. You seemed curious.”

Embarrassed, I lowered my head. How hadn’t I known before that he could read my expressions so well? As I remained silent, he continued.

“You used to play the zither beautifully.”

“……”

“Might you play it for me again sometime?”

Caught in indecision, unsure whether to call myself ‘your servant’ or ‘this girl,’ I let my words trail off. Yet he addressed me easily as ‘Consort,’ though I was no longer one. I had been stripped of my title; I wasn’t supposed to be called that anymore.

“It would be my greatest honor to play for Your Majesty.”

When I responded with a formality befitting my status, he smiled once more. This time, however, it was a wistful smile. His eyes did not meet mine as he spoke.

“It’s not necessary for the Emperor.”

“……”

“There are already too many who vie to offer him their tribute.”

The cynicism in his tone felt uncharacteristic. When I looked at him, he raised his head, and our eyes met. He smiled again, and I realized something then—whenever he looked at me, he forced himself to smile. But what kind of face was he hiding behind that smile?

“I should go. There’s much state work left.”

Since discovering that I was Princess Yu-eum, he had stopped visiting the consorts’ quarters. Naturally, whispers circulated in the inner palace, rumors that should never reach my ears. I knew I had to inform him about it, but I had no idea how to begin.

For some reason, he didn’t seem happy as the Emperor. During his days as Crown Prince, he had shone brightly, but now he was shrouded in darkness. Like a sky once full of stars, now covered by thick clouds, without a trace of moonlight.

As he prepared to leave, I paused before adjusting his attire. It wasn’t my place to do so. But he narrowed his eyes, leaning down as if to prompt me. To reach him.

“Your Majesty.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I touched his robes. It was the first time I had ever done so. Smoothing the elegant folds, I whispered softly.

“Bold words are drifting through the shadows of the palace.”

He immediately understood what I meant. After a moment of stillness, he suddenly pulled me close. Before I could react, I found myself wrapped in his embrace. He rested his face against my neck, one arm cradling my shoulder.

I froze, unsure of what to do. I could hear the quiet sound of his breathing. The warm breath against my neck made me flinch. His voice then came, deep and gentle.

“Scents must come from the soul.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, so I couldn’t respond. Then, as if speaking from the depths of a dream, he murmured.

“You smell like you.”

For a long moment, he held me, his face buried in my neck, inhaling my scent. When I realized this, embarrassment washed over me, and I tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go.

I could hear him breathe—drawing in and releasing his breath. And suddenly, as I listened, I thought: it didn’t sound like he was smelling me, but rather like someone who had barely escaped drowning, gasping for precious air. That’s how desperately he was breathing.