Chapter 10
The current head of the Nam family was Nam Baekcheon, uncle to Nam Dowon.
Nam Baekcheon acted as though he had completely taken control of the Nam clan, but anyone with a bit of sense predicted that it was only a matter of time before Nam Dowon took back what was his.
However, there was one thing even the shrewd did not know—
Nam Dowon already held the most important core power of the Nam family in his hands.
So when a man silently emerged from the darkness, Nam Dowon was not surprised.
It was the leader of the ragtag bandits who had pretended to ambush him earlier in the mountains.
Now dressed entirely in black night-garments, the man reported in a flat tone:
“It was true that Choi Myeonghak was bringing an adopted daughter. I confirmed him returning to the capital with a woman who appears to be past her twenties.”
Nam Dowon’s eyes narrowed.
So Choi Myeonghak really was bringing an adopted daughter?
Dowon had suspected it was related to the curse.
What were the odds that this “adopted daughter” was actually the princess of the fallen kingdom?
Not impossible.
But if that were the case, why would they send only Choi Myeonghak to bring her?
The royal family’s curse had deep and unyielding roots.
Even the most revered monks and shamans in the land could not break it.
If they had finally found someone after ten years who was said to be able to lift it—
why send only Choi Myeonghak?
“Any other unusual details?”
“There was another man in the party, but I could not identify him. He fell down a mountain slope, so I never saw his face clearly…”
“He fell down a slope, you say.”
“Yes. The woman fell with him, so it’s possible Choi Myeonghak’s adopted daughter might not make it to the city gates.”
Nam Dowon had only ordered a staged farce—something done with both sides pretending ignorance.
He hadn’t imagined that such a small incident would keep Choi Myeonghak from fulfilling the king’s orders.
The unknown man could be anyone; the Choi household had no shortage of disciples.
Dowon glanced sideways at the man who seemed to think the problem was solved.
Only someone who didn’t know the real issue could think that way.
But Dowon had no intention of explaining.
The man followed him not out of loyalty, but because Dowon was Nam Baekjun’s son.
And when Baekjun regained consciousness, that loyalty would vanish like flipping a hand.
Such a man would never change masters before Baekjun’s death.
There was no trust between them, so no need for unnecessary conversation.
“Leave.”
At his command, the man vanished without a sound.
Dowon lifted his head.
For nearly ten years, Choi Myeonghak had never once left the capital.
Not just because of his position as Chief of the Guards—
but to personally restrain the curse with force if it flared out of control.
And now? He’d left for days… simply to fetch an adopted daughter?
The man once hailed as a prodigy from childhood narrowed his eyes.
“They said there was a man with them.”
A bitter laugh escaped between his teeth.
He knew better than anyone how absurd the thought in his head was.
Surely not.
There was no way the king of an entire nation would so easily leave the capital.
But Ryeohwan was not a king one could understand with ordinary reasoning.
Dowon didn’t know all of his king’s eccentricities, but the few he did know often made him wonder if their ruler had gone completely mad.
Looking up at the night sky with no moon in sight, Dowon clicked his tongue.
Surely not…
Yet despite telling himself that, the urge to storm into the palace surged within him.
At the very heart of the labyrinthine palace, behind four layers of sliding doors, lay the king’s bedchamber.
Would the king be there upon his golden bed—or not?
Trying to quell the restless impulse, Dowon’s gaze lingered on the cloud-covered sky where neither moon nor stars shone. His eyes sank into shadow.
As Ryeohwan had predicted, Choi Myeonghak had not slept a wink.
A well-trained horse could find its own way home, they said.
Myeonghak had released his steed with orders to at least find the nearest settlement, then spent the night combing the mountain for Ryeohwan.
By the time he followed smoke and found the pair, the sun was already rising.
“Your High—”
“Shh.”
The moment Myeonghak opened his mouth, Ryeohwan pressed a finger to his lips.
Only then did Myeonghak see Seohwa sleeping soundly against Ryeohwan’s shoulder.
Silently, he approached and asked in a whisper:
“Were you injured anywhere?”
Ryeohwan flicked aside the branch he’d been whittling. Injured?
The slope had been steep and the tumble long, but in the end they were lucky.
No broken bones, no real wounds.
Even so, Ryeohwan did not answer immediately.
Casting a sidelong glance at the woman sleeping on his shoulder, he rubbed his face with one dry hand and said:
“My heart aches.”
“…Pardon?”
He asks if you’re hurt, and you say your heart aches?
Myeonghak stared at his liege, wondering if he’d hit his head.
Without knowing what his subordinate was thinking, Ryeohwan sighed.
“I don’t think lifting the curse will be that easy.”
“What did you hear?”
“I don’t know whether to say I heard it or not.”
Clicking his tongue, Ryeohwan again glanced at Seohwa.
Her hair, neatly coiled before, now had stray wisps sticking out.
Apparently she’d found the time to marry even while on the run.
On impulse, he plucked out her hairpin.
Her fine hair tumbled over her shoulders in waves.
Touching the hair ornament of a married woman—
it was the sort of thing that deserved a slap.
Myeonghak looked at him in disbelief, but Ryeohwan calmly set the hairpin on her lap and said:
“The Azure Dragon is angry.”
Myeonghak frowned. The words could be taken two ways—
Was he saying the princess who had made a pact with the Azure Dragon was angry, or that the dragon itself was?
During the Seara Kingdom’s days, Myeonghak had roamed border posts where belief in the dragon was weak; people died of thirst everywhere despite the legends.
But now, he could hardly deny it. He leaned toward the latter meaning.
“Can a god become angry?”
“That’s what I’m saying. And what kind of god holds such petty grudges? If it wants to punish someone, shouldn’t it be my father or the emperor of Seara who ruled tyrannically? What did I do?”
Ryeohwan’s gaze drifted along the blue aura flickering angrily—
then, oops. His eyes wandered from her shoulder up to the nape of her neck.
Pulling out the hairpin had been mischief, but this… this was edging into impropriety.
Clearing his throat, Ryeohwan froze.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Ah.”
Somehow, Seohwa was awake—her cold black eyes fixed directly on him.
Only then did he realize how close they were.
Blinking slowly twice, he hurriedly pulled back—
—but her loose hair had snagged on his earring.
“Ah!”
“Ow!”
Seohwa yanked his robe in pain; Ryeohwan’s knees buckled as he was dragged down.
If this were a romantic novel, their lips would have met.
In reality, her head slammed into his jaw.
“Ugh!”
Still tangled, Seohwa groaned, unable to move her head.
Ryeohwan jerked his chin upward, almost hitting her again, then froze.
Her curly hair framed her face—so close that a tilt of the head could bring their mouths together.
For a fleeting moment, he thought: Her skin is really nice… How is it this fair and smooth after ten years on the run? Is it natural?
“Your Highness.”
Her furrowed brows shattered his thoughts.
“Could you—just take the earring off?”
“Huh?”
“My hair is caught on it. And why did you pull out my hairpin in the first place?”
“So you were awake, pretending to sleep? Why?”
“I was watching to see what you’d do. Is that a crime?”
“…Let’s say you’re innocent of the charge of laying hands on the royal body.”
So he had been planning to accuse her.
Seohwa exhaled in disbelief.
“Honestly… General Myeonghak?”
Noticing Myeonghak standing there, she flushed red.
Without a word, Myeonghak turned his back—
a silent promise to pretend he’d seen nothing.
