“Kang Seung-gyu?”

Hearing the name, Ugong’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at Ah-shin.

“Th-that man, isn’t it?”

“Who are you talking about?”

Ah-shin had never heard the name Kang Seung-gyu before.

Kang Seung-gyu was Yul-hye’s father, executed as a traitor ten years ago. Now Ah-shin was investigating the matter to clear his name, but Ugong’s reaction when he heard the name was unexpected.

“Th-that man! The one who fought tooth and nail to prevent you from becoming Crown Prince…”

“No, that was Kang Mu-yeol.”

How could this fool not remember? It was Kang Mu-yeol who had constantly interfered, blocking his path to the Crown Prince’s throne and spewing all sorts of outrageous nonsense.

“Kang Mu-yeol is Kang Seung-gyu.”

“What?”

How did that make sense? Kang Mu-yeol was Kang Seung-gyu?

“Kang Mu-yeol’s real name is Kang Seung-gyu and Kang Mu-yeol is his alias.

“Alias?”

“You didn’t know that Kang Seung-gyu’s alias was Kang Mu-yeol? Did you really think that was his real name…?”

“……”

“After all the attention you paid to him, you didn’t even know his name…”

“……”

It hadn’t even occurred to him. For Ah-shin, Kang Mu-yeol had always been just Kang Mu-yeol. He had never imagined that Mu-yeol was an alias and that his real name was Kang Seung-gyu.

“What difference does it make? Whether he’s Kang Mu-yeol or Kang Seung-gyu, what’s the difference?”

“Maybe destiny is destiny. After all, that Kang Seung-gyu’s daughter became yours…”

“Enough.”

Ah-shin interrupted with a click of his tongue, cutting Ugong off sharply.

“I will take my leave now. There’s a lot of work I’ve neglected.”

Ugong said hastily and left the room as soon as he saw Ah-shin’s dark expression. It wouldn’t do him any good to stay any longer.

“But on the other hand, why on earth didn’t she know her own father’s alias?”

The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Yul-hye hadn’t even known that her father’s alias was Mu-yeol. This explained her confusion when he asked her if she was Kang Mu-yeol’s daughter.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know.”

Yes, he wasn’t the only one in the dark. So it wasn’t a mistake on his part – not really.

Ah-shin took another letter and opened it. A large pile of letters lay in front of him – proof of how much work had accumulated.

In the end, he had abandoned the idea of going to the capital himself. Instead, he had sent people to deal with things on his behalf, resulting in this mountain of letters.

Half of them were from his siblings, begging him to forgive them and let them go just this once. The other half were reports detailing how he had dealt with the bold and brazen conspirators who had set him up.

He had decided to give his young nephew, the Emperor, another chance. As for his brothers, he had stripped them of their powers and sent them to various remote border regions. Those nobles who had sided with them had their estates confiscated and were banished from the capital.

As for the young emperor, Ah-shin decreed that he must personally travel to this place every two months to report on the affairs of state. This ensured that no decision would escape Ah-shin’s scrutiny.

I have no desire to take the throne. I have no intention of killing my brothers. Nor do I wish to return to the capital and lose my peaceful, leisurely life.

But that doesn’t mean I ignore my responsibilities. As a compromise, I’ve decided to manage the Emperor directly. It’s not quite a regency, but something akin to what might be called a government by correspondence.

Through letters, I oversee the Emperor’s handling of state affairs, and every major decision must be approved by me through written correspondence.

I don’t intend to keep this arrangement forever. When my twelve-year-old nephew turns twenty, I’ll end it. But if his behaviour does not meet my expectations by then, I may simply remove him from the throne early and assume the position myself. Not that I want to – but I wouldn’t rule it out.

There’s nothing attractive about being Emperor. I just want to see the country properly governed. There’s also a part of me that wants to prove Kang Mu-yeol wrong – that I can actually look after the people, as he said I couldn’t. But it’s just a thought, nothing more.

“This is something…”

Ah-shin’s brow furrowed as he read the last letter. It was about Jung Do-yoon, who had gone to the capital five months ago with a letter of recommendation written by Ah-shin himself. According to the letter, the current king had arranged for him to take up the position of Gyeongbok – an official in charge of the palace’s finances. However, Do-yoon had been caught stealing from the royal treasury, resulting in the loss of his hand and banishment from the palace.

“So he insisted on doing something he wasn’t capable of, and that’s how it ends.”

There was no need to tell Yul-hye. He had no intention of telling her about Jung Do-yoon. After all, Yul-hye was no longer Do-yoon’s bride. She was his bride now.

The laws of the land? He had changed them.

The outdated law that forbade divorced or annulled women to remarry? Ah-shin had abolished it, ensuring that women were free to remarry. And as soon as the law was passed, he and Yul-hye were married in an official ceremony and became husband and wife.

Now no one dared to call Yul-hye the governor’s consort. She was his in every way.

Now she was called only one thing: Ah-shin’s bride.

“There she is again.”

Ah-shin muttered as he stepped into the courtyard and saw Yul-hye sitting in a garden chair.

It was spring now. The trees were in bloom, their petals blowing gently in the breeze.

And Yul-hye’s belly had grown noticeably round. It had been six months since she had become pregnant – his child, of course. After all, he was her first man and would be her last.

“Yul…”

He started to call her name but stopped, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

She was dozing in the chair, her face serene, framed by the gentle cascade of falling petals. For a moment he just stood there, watching her in silence, unwilling to disturb her peace.

Her head bobbed gently as she dozed, probably lulled by the pleasant warmth of the spring sun.

A perfect day for a nap.

A faint smile curled at his lips.

Without hesitation, he sat down beside Yul-hye’s chair, unconcerned about the dirt that would stain his clothes. He reached out and gently took her hand that was resting on her lap.

It was still a small hand – delicate and soft. But it was a hand that held him firmly, a hand that had complete control over him.

She may have been small, but she possessed him completely. People whispered that he had stolen her, but in truth it was his heart that had been stolen.

Those rumours, though somewhat unfair, didn’t bother him much. What could he do? The truth was that she was his.

‘Because I love her, I can endure that much.’

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to have grown bored of him yet.

“Sleeping so soundly.”

Ah-shin murmured, playing with her hand as he gently pushed her nodding head back to rest against the back of the chair. Once she was settled and sleeping more comfortably, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Then, without hesitation, he laid his head on her lap.

Her steady, calm breathing reached his ears, soothing and reassuring.

‘A perfect day for a nap,’ he thought again.

When she woke up, he wanted to tell her the truth – that Kang Mu-yeol and Kang Seung-gyu were one and the same. But that could wait for now.

The hand he held was warm, her heartbeat calm and steady. Surrounded by the gentle embrace of that spring day, he closed his eyes.

No longer was he called the Butcher in Human Form. Now he was known simply as the kind and compassionate governor, Ah-shin – the husband of the beautiful Yul-hye. That was the extent of his reputation.

Until Ugong came looking for him, Ah-shin let himself drift into a peaceful nap. He didn’t know that Yul-hye woke first, her eyes softening as she smiled at the sight of him asleep on her lap. Nor did he notice when Ugong burst in, letter in hand, worried about another riot in the capital.

In those brief, quiet moments, Ah-shin remained utterly relaxed, content and at peace, untouched by the chaos that awaited him.

The End.