“Your Highness, what is this ring? I haven’t seen it before.”

As soon as Yeocheong returned to Yeon, he handed the ring to Seon. The ring looked worn and lacked shine, giving it a rough appearance. It was something Seon hadn’t seen before, and he looked at it with disapproving eyes.

“It was given to me by His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince. Make sure to keep it safe.”

“Excuse me? Then you should wear it all the time. Why would you want me to store it away?”

Seon was surprised and adjusted the ring in his hand. A moment ago, he had carefully examined it between two fingers, but now he placed it gently on his palm, alternating his gaze between the ring and Yeocheong several times.

Jihyuk had spent a long time staring into Yeocheong’s eyes. While Yeocheong had said he was helping him become more accustomed to him, there was clearly something more burning in Jihyuk’s eyes.

“It’s a valuable item. We shouldn’t risk damaging it by wearing it unnecessarily.”

The more he thought about it, the more confused Yeocheong became. He had convinced himself it was all just an act, but the look in Jihyuk’s eyes was something that couldn’t be faked, and it stirred up his thoughts in ways he couldn’t control.

Even though he tried to convince himself that it was just a misunderstanding, he couldn’t help but feel that anyone would interpret those eyes the same way.

No matter how much he pondered, the conclusion was always the same.

“It seems His Royal Highness truly cares for you, Your Highness. Could it be that he really fell in love with you at first sight? After all, our Crown Princess…”

“I’m getting a bit of a headache. I think I need to rest for today.”

He shook his head, once again reminding himself that it was futile to try and find faults with his past. It was pointless.

At this point, even if Jihyuk claimed he loved him, it wouldn’t change the fact that their relationship had always been flawed from the start. They were destined to end up in the same place.

Jihyuk had needed the marriage with Yeocheong as a stepping stone for war. Even if his feelings had twisted momentarily, causing him to take an interest in Yeocheong, it was nothing more than a fleeting emotion.

Why was he even having these thoughts? He knew full well that love, trust, and hope were all meaningless. What could he possibly do with these feelings?

‘Pathetic.’

Today, even the book he had been clinging to like a lifeline was out of reach. Yeocheong grasped his aching head, swaying slightly before lying down on the bed.

‘Don’t forget. No matter how much this looks like the past I once desired, it’s nothing more than a meaningless illusion. To avoid the same outcome, I have to change. Even if that person seems different from before.’

No matter how brightly those eyes shine, how warm that hand is, or how comforting that embrace may feel, Yeocheong repeated this in his mind over and over until he sleep.

***

Perhaps it was the nap that caused it, but after a quiet rest, Yeocheong woke up in the deep hours of the night, long after the evening had passed.

Most of the palace attendants in Yeon were likely asleep by this time. Only the soldiers on duty passed by intermittently.

Yeocheong tried to sleep again but found himself increasingly irritated by the faint sound of insects chirping. Finally, he gave up on the idea of falling back asleep and got out of bed.

He considered lighting a candle and reading the book he hadn’t finished the day before, but the thought of searching for a light just to read didn’t seem appealing. His mind was too cluttered to focus, so he decided against it. Feeling restless, he paced the room for a while before deciding to get dressed and go outside.

He wasn’t fond of walking around. Yeocheong usually found comfort in staying inside his room, but perhaps due to the overwhelming thoughts of the past, being indoors felt suffocating, almost unbearable.

Yeocheong walked aimlessly, turning slightly when he heard footsteps approaching, and distancing himself from any places with visible lights. Before he knew it, he found himself in a quiet, deserted garden.

It was a place he recognized, but the darkness around him made it hard to be certain of his location. But it didn’t matter. He just wanted to be alone in a peaceful spot.

‘When I came back, I thought I could change everything. I thought the heavens had shown me mercy and given me a chance…’

Yeocheong sat down on the grass inside the garden, staring blankly at the sky. He had once believed everything could change, but in reality, nothing had.

The saying that opportunities only come to those who are prepared seemed to have the same meaning as the idea that an opportunity given to someone unprepared was little more than a punishment.

‘If I’m already being tossed around like this, what can I possibly do? If I had known even a little bit about the future, it would have been better. If I had known something small, at least then I might have been able to do something.’

He had never been interested in matters outside the palace, and after spending over three years imprisoned, he didn’t have a single piece of useful information at his disposal. Now, even if he spent all day reading books, it wasn’t as if knowledge would miraculously fill his mind overnight.

He had once promised himself that he would live a life different from the past. He had sworn to avenge his mother’s death and to get back at Jihyuk, the man who had manipulated him.

But with each passing day, what grew was only his self-loathing and disgust. Every day, he felt more acutely aware of his own incompetence and helplessness. Nothing had progressed; nothing had changed.

‘Mother…’

If it was going to end like this, Yeocheong thought, it would have been better to have stayed in the Imperial Palace a little longer. If only he could have spent more time with his mother, if only he could have shared more moments with her. The pain of remembering his mother’s face—tears falling as she sent him away—stung deeply.

Tears began to fall from Yeocheong’s eyes, one by one. They were the tears he had kept hidden from others, forcing himself to hold them back, unwilling to appear weak.

But tears don’t simply vanish when swallowed. Instead, they build up, waiting for the dam to break.

‘What can I possibly do? Why am I so useless? Why did fate give me another chance, only for it to be wasted? If this is how it was going to be, it would have been better to meet my mother again in the afterlife.’

He had believed that with life would come opportunities, but maybe what was given to him wasn’t an opportunity at all. Perhaps it was fate’s cruel reminder that even with a chance, he would end up at the same conclusion.

Yeocheong buried his face in his hands, resting his forehead against his knees, his shoulders trembling. He stifled the sobs, swallowing the sound in fear that someone might find him. He stayed there, huddled and crying in silence for what felt like an eternity.

‘If I keep waiting like this, maybe one day an opportunity will come. But what if I lose my mind before that happens? No. Maybe I’m already half-mad.’

For Yeocheong, Jihyuk was like poison. Whether his eyes were dark and sunken or brightly shining, just being near him was enough to completely ruin Yeocheong.

‘I can’t forget. If I forget… it will..’

The past was everything to Yeocheong. While there might not be a clear answer in his life, the wrong answers were glaringly obvious. The memories that tormented him every day were proof of that.

“Ugh…”

Yet those memories, while they gave him the drive for revenge, were also the ones slowly destroying him. If it had been only painful memories, perhaps it would have been easier, but the fact that his happiest moments had also involved Jihyuk made it even more unbearable.

Yeocheong buried his face between his knees again and began to sob. Once the tears came, it was clear they wouldn’t stop easily.

He should return before the sun rose. By the time dawn broke, the palace attendants would begin their day, so he needed to be back before then to avoid making Seon worry unnecessarily.

But, as always, Yeocheong’s body didn’t obey his will. The tears wouldn’t stop, and his legs refused to move, showing no sign of improvement.

Tap, tap…

How much time had passed? Yeocheong felt a cold sensation on his shoulder. When he lifted his head, he realized that a cold drop of water had fallen onto his forehead, followed by another.

The saying that misfortune always strikes at once seemed to be true. From the moment he noticed the rain, the downpour intensified, as if mocking him.

‘I should go back…’

His clothes were quickly soaking through, making the already chilly night air feel even colder. But Yeocheong remained where he was, huddled with his head bowed, unwilling to move.

Yeocheong didn’t want to do anything. In that moment, he thought it might be easier to just stand there, letting the rain soak him through, and perhaps catch such a bad cold that he would be too sick to think for days.

At that moment, something was cast over Yeocheong’s lowered head. Surprised by the rough feel of fabric against his skin, he looked up.

“Please forgive my intrusion.”

With the familiar voice, Yeocheong was lifted up from where he sat.