A Pact for Ten Years

“You came back without any notice!” Danhyang exclaimed as she opened the doors leading to the inner chamber. “His Majesty arrived while you were away! What is this all of a sudden?”

But Yi-seol’s mind was elsewhere. He walked briskly, not hearing a single word Danhyang said. He stopped in front of the inner chamber door, catching his breath.

“His Highness, the Ru Consort, has arrived. Shall I let him in?”

“Tell him to enter.”

He had never entered his own chamber with such tension. As the door opened, Yi-seol hurried forward and stood before the Emperor.

“This humble consort greets Your Majesty. I apologize for making you wait.”

“It is my fault for coming without notice.”

The Emperor brushed aside Yi-seol’s greeting and picked up his teacup. While he took a sip, the silence in the room was as tense as walking on thin ice.

“I have something to discuss with the Ru Consort. All of you, leave.”

At the Emperor’s command, no one argued; they quickly retreated from the chamber. The door closed, and the sound of footsteps faded as if they had moved far enough not to overhear the conversation.

“Sit down.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor gestured to the empty chair across from him. Even after Yi-seol entered, the Emperor had not once looked at him. He seemed to gaze around the room, but his eyes never landed on Yi-seol.

Yi-seol swallowed dryly, pressing his fingertips with his nails—a habit when nervous. Suddenly, he recalled the first time he had met the Emperor. They had sat like this then, too, and he had painfully pressed his fingertips. Now, not knowing what words he would hear, his throat burned with anxiety. Why, of all times, isn’t there even a simple cup of tea? he thought resentfully.

“I heard you visited the library?”

“Yes. I borrowed some books.”

“Those are by Gatak-hee. Good books.”

“…Has Your Majesty read them as well?”

It was an unintentional question. The Emperor, whom he had expected to ignore him, answered calmly.

“I have read the Poison Herb Compendium, but not the Herb Compendium.”

“….”

“They contain nothing I need.”

Knowing both herbs and poisons would be useful, Yi-seol swallowed his retort. He merely nodded quietly.

He didn’t believe the Emperor had come to ask after his well-being. The Emperor said he had matters to discuss and had sent away the attendants, yet he only sipped his tea in silence. Yi-seol had nothing to say either, so no conversation arose. He considered asking about the Emperor’s health but lacked the courage to speak first. Knowing that the Emperor was not fond of him made him hesitate in every action.

The Emperor’s teacup was empty. He looked down at it for a moment, then rubbed his left wrist, where Yi-seol’s name was engraved, and set the cup down. His wrist was still bound in silk.

“Did you wait for me in the countryside?”

The flat tone made it hard to tell if it was a question. Yi-seol answered a beat late.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

For an instant, the Emperor’s expression seemed to change, then returned to impassivity. It was neither a frown nor a smile—a fleeting look that Yi-seol couldn’t read. He wondered if he had given the wrong answer.

“Then you must resent me for never appearing.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Even as Yi-seol shook his head in denial, the Emperor showed no reaction, simply refilling his empty cup.

“The consort abandoned in the countryside—the rumor has spread throughout the palace. Yet you claim you don’t resent me.”

“….”

“Is your nature so pure, or are you too foolish to understand the situation?”

The Emperor’s indifferent words pierced his heart. Yi-seol couldn’t answer. He wasn’t pure of heart; he was simply too foolish to see the situation clearly. But he couldn’t admit that to the Emperor.

“…I…”

“Enough. Don’t answer.”

“….”

“The one thing I value in you is that tight-lipped mouth. Remember that.”

Interpreted as a warning not to speak unnecessarily, Yi-seol swallowed his words and answered quietly, “Yes.”

“I heard you do not appear at the tea gatherings in Tanyeongdang.”

The Emperor brought up an unexpected topic. Yi-seol hesitated and confirmed it. The cold aura spreading from the Emperor’s eyes grew thicker.

“You are a consort. Fulfill your duties.”

Yi-seol kept his head down so the Emperor wouldn’t see him bite his lower lip. He barely suppressed the inexplicable grief rising in his chest and answered, “I will follow your orders.” Whether the Emperor was pleased or not, Yi-seol couldn’t tell.

Another long silence fell. Just sitting and breathing quietly in this place was suffocating. Though he did nothing, his heart raced so loudly he felt it might be heard outside.

“Do you truly believe that the destiny Heaven assigned to me is tied to you?”

Again, the Emperor asked a question difficult to answer. Yi-seol’s lips moved, but no words came. If he said yes, it might displease the Emperor; if he said no, it would deny his own reason for being here. So he said nothing.

The Emperor didn’t seem to expect an answer. Without scolding Yi-seol for his hesitation, he continued.

“I do not think so.”

The Emperor spoke calmly, took a sip of tea, and finally looked directly at Yi-seol.

“The fact that you do not bear my name, and that I feel no absolute affection for you—all of this is because we are not fated.”

“…Then why did Your Majesty take me as a consort?”

Yi-seol had vaguely known. He never felt that absolute affection from the Emperor that arises between lovers who share names. In every encounter, the Emperor was indifferent or displeased. The one-sided affection flowed from Yi-seol to the Emperor, and the Emperor never reciprocated.

Also, as the Emperor said, Yi-seol did not have the Emperor’s name. He used to check his body once a day after undressing, but after a while, he stopped. By then, Yi-seol was almost certain: he was not the Emperor’s true fated partner.

Having his own realization confirmed by the Emperor was not pleasant. Ignoring the words about lacking affection, he asked what he had been thinking.

“Because I, a royal of Yeon and a man, was needed by Your Majesty.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“I made a pact not to produce an heir through the Empress consort. I brought you into the palace to fulfill that pact.”

Though unexpected, the answer was convincing. The Emperor had chosen the most certain way to prove his promise not to continue the imperial line.

“……So you intended to appoint me, a man, as Empress consort, to uphold the pact of not having an heir. …But I…”

“Did not become Empress.”

A sneer touched the Emperor’s face as he looked at Yi-seol.

“After meeting you in person, I thought the position of Empress was somewhat wasted on you.”

“….”

“Do you regret it?”

“No. This humble consort considers even the rank of So-ui excessive.”

Unlike his earlier hesitation, he answered instantly when asked about regret. Yi-seol had never felt regret about his position. Whether Empress or Consort, he was still the Emperor’s person, and that made no difference.

The Emperor didn’t seem to believe him. A short, mocking laugh escaped, and Yi-seol looked up, but the Emperor was expressionless once more.

“Then do you covet the Empress’s position?”

“I do not.”

“It’s good that you don’t.”

As if Yi-seol had answered that he did, the Emperor spoke with an intimidating tone. Most of his words were flat and dry, but this one sounded sharp, laden with emotion. Yi-seol held his breath briefly, then let it out.

“The one who made the pact with me wishes for you to become my Empress. He might offer you something tempting.”

“….”

“Whatever you do, it would be foolish. That way, you will not get what you want.”

In a flat voice again, the Emperor spoke. Now Yi-seol understood the Emperor’s intent.

“……I understand Your Majesty’s words completely. I will not bring shame upon Your Majesty.”

“Stop your ears, close your eyes, and shut your mouth. Live as if you never existed in this palace—quietly, as if dead.”

“….”

“If you preserve your life that way, I promise you will leave this palace within ten years.”

Yi-seol’s head shot up. Startled, he stared directly at the Emperor. Blinking, he couldn’t even ask what that meant. The Emperor answered:

“Once I abdicate the throne, you will be free. You may return to Yeon. Though you cannot remarry, at least it will be better than growing old and dying alone in this palace.”

The Emperor spoke as if it were nothing, but Yi-seol was struck speechless. He didn’t know how to respond.

A consort cannot leave the palace freely. On the day he left Yeon, Yi-seol had thought he would never set foot in his homeland again. He had abandoned all attachments. The thought of returning to Yeon had never occurred to him. Now the Emperor’s words echoed in his ears. He couldn’t remarry, as the Emperor said, but he could enjoy unparalleled freedom in his homeland for the rest of his life.

A vision of ten years later, which he had never dreamed of, painted itself in his mind. He didn’t know what to answer. He couldn’t refuse the pact, but he also couldn’t express gratitude. The Emperor remained calm, as if unaware of Yi-seol’s turmoil.

“Do you not like my promise?”

“……Do you truly promise?”

“I promise on the throne of the Son of Heaven.”

There was no falsehood in that emphatic voice. Even as Yi-seol slowly closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, the Emperor only quietly savored his tea.

“Then I, this humble consort, will also do my utmost not to bring shame upon Your Majesty until the day you abdicate.”

At those words, the Emperor’s face hardened slightly, but since he was usually expressionless and indifferent, Yi-seol didn’t notice much.

“This is a pact between you and me. Keep it secret from others.”

“Yes.”

“Also, I will frequent Bi-eun Palace from now on. The Empress’s position is vacant, but it’s not good for many to consider it yours.”

“….”

“But do not take seriously any rumors that I have developed affection for you. You are not my destined one.”

The final words were sharp, but Yi-seol didn’t mind and answered quietly. Every time he heard those words, he felt as if his very existence was being denied, making him pity himself. But he couldn’t blame the Emperor, because he truly was not the Emperor’s fated partner.

Today, Yi-seol gazed at the Emperor’s wrist, bound with a silk ribbon, and called out to him. “Your Majesty.” A somewhat impulsive curiosity arose.

“I may be a fake, but the name engraved on Your Majesty must be real.”

“So?”

“The true destined one somewhere in this world… don’t you wish to meet them?”

At Yi-seol’s cautious words, the Emperor did not answer immediately. He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps he simply thought Yi-seol was impertinent. Instead of avoiding that gaze, Yi-seol slowly blinked.

Just as he was about to apologize for the lack of response, the Emperor stood up. It seemed he had said all he needed to say. Yi-seol rose as well, but the Emperor did not immediately walk away; he answered:

“If my true destined one truly exists somewhere in this world, they would bear my name and would have found me through the Celestial and Terrestrial Bureau. But no one has come so far.”

“….”

“There is no true destined one for me.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the Emperor walked away. For a moment, Yi-seol was dazed by the curt words, then awkwardly bowed to honor the Emperor’s departure. When the Emperor opened the chamber door himself, a multitude of footsteps moved in unison and soon faded away. Only when it was certain that the Emperor had left the palace did the court ladies enter. They chattered, asking what had been discussed, but Lady Ju’s sharp reprimand silenced them.

Yi-seol stood blankly, blinking without answering.