My father was frail — a dragon whose life could fade away at any moment. Huinyeong wasn’t even worthy of being called a dragon — she was just a girl who had failed to become one. She was weak and useless, unable to protect herself.

Even if she continued to live and remained in her place, she would not benefit the emperor or the Great Yeon. And yet Huinyeong had lived far longer than anyone expected.

This was because her father had always protected her.

“…There is nothing for Your Majesty to worry about. I recovered long ago.”

She never knew when the illness would strike again.

Huinyeong counted the days until it returned.

Whenever she struggled to breathe and gasped for air, the emperor would take her hand. Like any father in Hwanju, he would gently place his palm against her forehead.

His eyes were always filled with sorrow.

What would he do if his only daughter left this world before him?

When the moment came that his bloodline might be cut off, he cried not for the question of succession, but for that reason alone.

It was a pitiful sight.

It was tragic enough that father and daughter took turns lying helpless in their sickbeds. And yet, in the end, they had each other, and each other alone.

“If you recovered long ago, why does your complexion still look so pale?”

The words were spoken in a quiet murmur.

Huinyeong raised her gaze, which had previously been lowered without strength.

The king wore a gentle smile.

It was neither darkened by shadows nor clouded by coldness. It was a sweet, kind smile.

Yet Huinyeong feared the king so deeply that she could not help but imagine hidden malice beneath that harmless expression.

Sometimes, that fear was enough to make her feel as though she might die.

Her breath trembled whenever she faced him.

“M-Myself… I am always like this, Your Highness.”

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

She wanted to smile calmly. She didn’t want to appear cowardly in front of her father’s enemy. If she could just keep her composure, maybe her neck wouldn’t feel so cold when she turned around.

Huinyeong stared at the man who was watching her in silence.

The smile would not come.

No matter how hard she tried, her tense, fearful lips would not lift.

“I will have someone from the Prince’s Residence prepare a medicinal decoction for fever and send it to you.”

“That will not be necess—”

“It is my wish. Please accept it as a nephew’s concern for his uncle.”

There was nothing more she could say.

Huinyeong looked at him with weary eyes before slowly nodding.

In any case, the tea would be delivered by the court maids. If she chose not to drink it, that would be the end of the matter. The Wing Prince seemed to understand that as well.

But he said nothing more.

Perhaps the time it took to drink a cup of tea had passed.

The Wing Prince rose from his seat and smiled at Huinyeong.

It was a faint yet graceful smile; so perfectly composed that she found it difficult to meet his gaze.

Warmth crept into her lowered eyes.

Soon after, the prince took his leave.

When she heard the court maids close the door, Huinyeong slowly lifted her head.

Then she pressed her bare foot firmly against the spot where he had been sitting and stamped on the empty space again and again.

***

A tremor flickered at the corners of her reddened eyes.

Wi-pyeong gently brushed his fingers across her closed eyelids. Her fingers twitched and then curled tightly around the sleeve of his robe.

He thought of her olive-colored eyes, glistening with tears. Each time they flushed with warmth and blinked, a deep and restless desire stirred within him.

When had he first started thinking that even if Yeon-pyeong were to die, her daughter should be spared?

In any case, she was not a proper imperial princess. Hadn’t his late empress said that the child in her womb had come from outside the palace?

It wouldn’t matter if he took her.

Their blood would never truly mix. Even if the woman bore two or three children from his seed, it would make no difference.

Wi-pyeong had always felt this way whenever he held Hongokmae in his arms.

“Consort.”

The fingers that had been stroking her eyelids lifted and gently caressed her pale lips.

Her face was as white and delicate as smooth pebbles resting in a stream’s flowing water. Like small stones that appeared and disappeared beneath wavering light on the surface — small and lovely.

There had never been a moment when she was not beautiful. And, of course, there had never been a moment when she was not precious.

Not since desire had taken hold of him, at least.

He believed it must have been the first true desire he had ever felt.

Men were naturally expected to l*st after women, yet Wi-pyeong had never been stirred by anyone before.

This was the first time his gaze had lingered on a woman. The first time he had felt the urge to press his lips against someone’s.

It should not have been anything out of the ordinary.

And yet, Wi-pyeong disliked the shadow of desire that had appeared within him.

What had he done to the false daughter of Yeon-pyeong — the girl he had placed in Yangmyeong Hall?

“You should eat your breakfast.”

Her eyelids fluttered.

Wi-pyeong pressed a kiss onto her eyelids and then onto her pale lips.

She had cried all night, claiming that she could hear phantom sounds. It had always been like this ever since he took the baby away.

Sometimes she said she saw illusions.

It was probably not a lie.

Huinyeong feared him.

She had endured and suppressed that fear for a long time.

Nevertheless, he could not return Ryu to her now.

“The royal kitchen has prepared pheasant meat—the dish you like.”

Huinyeong opened her eyes.

Her lifeless gaze fell upon Wi-pyeong.

The woman did not resist him.

Ever since she had heard that the wife of the King of Han had taken her own life, and that one of her daughters had become a slave in Haeju, she had never resisted him.

From that day on, she did not resist him, even when he spread her thighs and ej*culated inside her.

He lifted her frail body and held her in his arms.

The court maids brought the breakfast table from where it had been set aside and placed it before Huinyeong.

“You must eat well if you wish to go to Haeju.”

Huinyeong slowly turned her head.

At the mention of Haeju, her eyes trembled.

Noticing that a look of sadness was about to cross her face, Wi-pyeong gently patted her on the shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

The daughters of the late King of Han had lived as slaves in Haeju.

They had once been among the few friends Huinyeong had had during her lonely days in the palace.

Wi-pyeong knew that the King of Han cherished Huinyeong deeply. He smiled quietly and kindly at her.

He lifted a jade-colored bowl of porridge and held it out to her.

She parted her dry lips slightly and accepted the spoon he offered her.

“You like apricot-kernel porridge, don’t you?”

From early morning, the court maids who had finely ground apricot kernels to prepare the porridge smiled faintly toward Huinyeong.

Her throat moved slightly.

“Lanhwa…”

Huinyeong looked at Wi-pyeong with aching eyes.

He had promised to tell her once she had finished her porridge.

Lanhwa was the name of one of the King of Han’s daughters — either Mu Lanhwa or Mu Lanzu.

They were also Wi-pyeong’s nieces.

They were false names to Huinyeong, but true blood relatives to Wi-pyeong.

But they were useless and insignificant.

“They said Lanhwa gave birth to a child…”

Huinyeong began to cry.

Tears fell from her eyes, even at that early hour.

Wi-pyeong brushed her long, disheveled hair behind her ear and kissed her on the cheek.

This was such a common occurrence that neither the eunuch nor the court maids took any notice.

He held her slender frame tightly and pressed his lips against hers.

“Then Consort must do even better, must she not?”

“Your Majesty…”

“As my wife, you must fulfill your duty.”

“Your Majesty… this concubine… this concubine…”

“I am not satisfied with only Ryu.”

Huinyeong fell silent.

Tears slid down her cheeks and gathered at her lips.

Wi-pyeong gently licked away the tears that had gathered there.

He wanted to mingle their tongues and steal her breath, but instead he steadied his roughening breath and looked at her br*ast, still swollen from giving birth to the infant.

“I have killed three children for you.”

“…This concubine never wished for that. I never—never— Ah!”

“Did you not cry and plead with me? Did you not weep and say that the children born to the concubines would one day kill you?”

“That was not what I meant, Your Majesty…”

“Do you not remember how you cried through the night, worrying about things that had not even happened? So I cut off their breath.”

Huinyeong started crying again.

Shaking her head violently and trembling, she tried to pull away from him.

Knowing she would retreat into the corner of the bed and curl up into a ball as she always did, Wi-pyeong only tightened his arms around her.

“Therefore, you must bear two more.”

He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

Realizing that she could not escape, Huinyeong stared at him frantically.

Instinctively, she pushed against his chest.

Despite knowing that refusal was impossible, she grasped at his chest every time.

“Because of you, I cannot visit the Seven Palaces or even the Empress’s palace. You must make greater effort.”

“…I never asked for this.”

She bit her lip.

Her tears tasted salty and sour.

Although she tasted them more often than her morning meal, she never grew accustomed to that flavor. Yet the emperor always seemed to enjoy them, licking them away with his tongue.

With her eyes twisted in grief, she whispered softly.

“No. You wanted it.”

“……”

“Did you not cry when I pulled a woman into my arms in front of you?”

“……”

“You turned your back after seeing the empress, swallowing your jealousy in terror.”

“That is not true. Never—ah…!”

“And yet every night you sobbed because you wanted to become my woman.”

“No!”

Huinyeong cried out.

Wi-pyeong laughed.

Her face flushed red as she shouted, as though her secret had just been revealed.

Satisfied, Wi-pyeong squeezed her br*ast.

“You deny it, yet I know you lived your days aching to be held by me.”

Huinyeong trembled violently.

Her eyes, twisted with anger, shimmered with tears.

Wi-pyeong smiled as though watching something endearingly amusing and pinched her cheek.

He pushed aside the cooling porridge and ordered the breakfast table to be set up again.

As he coaxed Huinyeong back into his arms, she had begun to cry in helpless frustration. The court maids quickly brought in fresh breakfast trays.

He fed her another spoonful of apricot-kernel porridge and gently stroked her hair.

At that moment, one of the court maids slowly lifted her head and looked at the pitiful woman.

She remembered when Huinyeong had still been an imperial princess.

Back then, she had been beautiful and fragile.

Like a golden oriole trapped inside a cage.