WDCDF 09

Chapter 09

No matter how much of a fallen kingdom it was, slapping someone who had once been a princess was still a crazy thing to do. But it wasn’t as if he’d hit her for no reason. Ryeo-hwan shook off the wrist Seohwa had grabbed and said,

“I could apologize a hundred times and it still wouldn’t be enough for striking a lady’s cheek, but… I thought you were dead.”

“Dead?”

Seohwa glanced around, checking the slope they had rolled down. It had been quite a fall, but not far enough for it to be fatal. She rose to her feet, brushing at her clothes—only to realize there wasn’t a speck of dust on them. Frowning slightly, she noticed Ryeo-hwan’s clothes, in contrast, were covered in dirt and dried leaves. Her voice softened just a little.

“…I’m not so weak that something like this could kill me.”

“Then why didn’t you wake up, even when I shook you so hard?”

She had been breathing, but no matter how much he shook her—or even slapped her—she wouldn’t wake up. He’d even worried she might have hit her head. He had truly been scared. Understanding what he meant, Seohwa replied,

“When one has a divine dream, that’s usually how it is.”

“A divine dream? Even the Azure Dragon dreams?”

“It’s not exactly the Azure Dragon dreaming…”

She had been about to explain it was more like a shaman’s prophetic vision, but decided to shut her mouth. There was no reason to explain that much to him. Turning her gaze to the slope they had tumbled down, she changed the subject.

“Anyway, how much time has passed? I doubt we can climb back up there, and there’s no way to contact the general, so—why are you looking at me like that?”

She stepped back at the sight of Ryeo-hwan staring at her with something like fascination. He chuckled softly.

“No reason. I was just thinking you really can’t understand a person until you’ve experienced them yourself.”

“…?”

At her puzzled look, he shrugged.

“Have you ever heard the rumor that the Empress of Seora killed her own daughter because the princess had gone mad?”

His tone was infuriatingly casual for someone tossing the words “mad” and “murder” around to her face. Worse yet, when he slapped her earlier, he’d spoken down to her—but now, when digging into her private wounds, he was using polite speech. Seohwa let out a sharp, bitter breath. Any gratitude for him having shielded her during the fall was completely gone. She said, her voice edged and cold,

“Sir.”

“…?”

“I’m astonished to meet someone who can rack up debts just through words alone.”

It wasn’t easy to throw yourself in harm’s way and still end up hated, but if it were a talent, Ryeo-hwan clearly had it. She shook her head.

If only she could land one good hit on that annoyingly smooth face of his.

‘There’s no one watching… maybe I could?’

At her calculating gaze, Ryeo-hwan instinctively stepped back.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face, my lady?”

[I don’t like this guy one bit.]

If the Azure Dragon hadn’t expressed its disgust, she might have smacked him already. Snapping back to herself, Seohwa shook her head.

“I didn’t have anything in particular I wanted to do in the capital, but I’ve just decided I absolutely must find out your rank.”

Hearing her say she wanted to learn his rank—not once, but twice—left Ryeo-hwan momentarily dumbfounded before he laughed in amusement.

“There are some things in the world where ignorance is bliss, my lady.”

His words had a sting despite the smile. Seohwa glanced at him sidelong.

“Sometimes it’s better to drink poison knowingly than be used without realizing it.”

Crunch, crackle.

Ryeo-hwan pushed through dry branches and leaves to catch up, then moved ahead of her.

“Even so, leaping off a horse like that was dangerous. Are all Seora royals that reckless?”

“I don’t think I need to hear that from you.”

“If you regret it later when you find out who I am, that’s on you.”

“I’ve been regretting meeting you from the start.”

“Seriously, you never let me win a single word…”

He trailed off in mild frustration, and Seohwa didn’t bother to answer. The only sound between them was the rustle of dried leaves underfoot.

Half a day passed.

Seohwa looked up at the darkening sky. Ryeo-hwan, leaning against a tree trunk, glanced over.

“We’ll have to spend the night here. Is that all right?”

“Better than crossing the mountain at night. We’d probably lose our way if we kept going.”

“No need to worry—we’re on the right path. Luckily it’s not too cold yet. The mountain’s full of dry branches, so I’ll build us a fire.”

He reached up to snap a thick branch from the tree he’d been leaning on, then began scraping leaves together with his boot.

“Why are you looking at me like that, my lady?”

“Are you really going to light a fire?”

“It’s early autumn, but the mornings are cold. In those clothes, you’ll catch a chill easily.”

“But… if the fire spreads, it’ll be disastrous.”

There was no place more prone to wildfire than a dry mountain. Catching a cold was far preferable to burning alive, in her opinion. Ryeo-hwan chuckled.

“The Azure Dragon is right here—why would you worry about fire? I saw you put out that roaring blaze yesterday; you can’t possibly be afraid of a spark.”

Her shoulders twitched. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed she had summoned rain. So he’d known and just pretended otherwise? Ryeo-hwan grinned impishly at her startled look. Knowing there was no point pressing further, Seohwa frowned and gave another reason.

“Even if the fire’s safe, won’t the smoke alert any pursuers?”

“You’ve been checking behind us all day—was that the pointless worry on your mind?”

Pointless worry, he called it. Her already frayed nerves snapped tighter. She almost kicked him right then and there, but instead sank down in a squat, forcing herself to cool her temper.

Watching her, Ryeo-hwan struck his flint.

“No need to worry about pursuit. Those men were sent by Namga—they won’t keep following us.”

“Namga?”

“It’s a long story. Just know it’s all staged and nothing to fear.”

“Then what was that clumsy ambush about?”

“A warning.”

He tossed a branch into the small flames that had begun to rise, and the fire licked it up hungrily.

“I’m watching you.”

Another branch caught with a flare.

“I know exactly what you’re planning.”

And again.

Seohwa quietly watched him feed the fire. His tone carried no emotion—no anger, no resentment. Like a court historian reciting facts, his voice sounded heavy, almost crushed by the dark of night.

“Don’t forget—I can kill you any time if you try anything.”

But when he finally tossed in a last stone and looked up at her, she realized—he wasn’t emotionless or resigned.

“So that’s why His Majesty left the palace to seek me out?”

The king was simply waiting—for the right time. Waiting to tear out the weeds playing games above his head. That was why the king himself had gone after nothing more than a fallen princess.

Ryeo-hwan’s eyes widened at her words, then narrowed with amusement.

“How did you figure it out?”

“When we fell, I heard General Myeonghak call you ‘Your Majesty.’ That made me suspicious.”

“I always thought that loyalty of his would trip me up someday.”

He didn’t seem angry at having his identity discovered. In fact, he almost looked entertained.

Is he toying with me again?

She wasn’t entirely certain—when they’d fallen, she’d been disoriented, and the general’s voice had been hard to hear over the commotion. This was a gamble, really—one with nothing to lose.

To drive in the nail, she tilted her head with deliberate confidence. Bluffing sometimes worked wonders—like now.

“And just now, Your Majesty confirmed it for me.”

“Well, well. Guess I walked right into that one.”

Even in the chill of the autumn night, with only a campfire for warmth, this was a rare sight—a king extending his hand to a princess.

“So, will the princess of a fallen nation help me?”

The shifting shadows from the fire made his face look alternately smiling and cold. She caught a fleeting redness in his black eyes, and she knew what it meant.

A cursed royal house. A cursed king.

Her gaze dropped to the hand he offered. Even the nobly born could be read from their hands—well-kept nails, but the backs bore numerous scars, the kind unrelated to swords or pens. She recognized them instantly as self-inflicted.

“You wouldn’t tell me you’ve come all this way just to refuse, would you?”

Lifting her eyes to meet his, she answered,

“I’ll help you, as much as I’m able. But I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You’re not even going to hear it first?”

“Why—are you going to ask for the throne?”

She grimaced at the ridiculous suggestion, and he laughed brightly.

“As long as it’s not that, I don’t care. Even if you asked me to cut off my arm, I’d give it.”

“No thank you. I’ve no taste for human flesh.”

“I wasn’t saying it literally…”

He fell silent when she clasped his hand. Honestly, when he’d heard she was looking for him, he hadn’t thought things would go this smoothly. To her, the Ryeo royal house ought to be her sworn enemy. Surely ten years hadn’t dulled that hatred?

Unable to read her thoughts, he pondered quietly. She gave his hand two light shakes before speaking again.

“Oh. But there is one problem.”

The most important words always came last. Ryeo-hwan gave her a puzzled look.