CHAPTER 26
ROYAL HALL – MIDDAY
The King's throne room was heavy with silence.
Muwon stood at full height, hands clasped behind his back, his expression respectful yet unreadable.
The King sat atop the elevated throne, dressed in simple royal robes, his crown resting lightly—like a burden he never asked for. Around him stood the royal council:Elder Baekjin, General Gunho, Lady Miran, Elder Jaesuk, High Priest Sangwook.
The King broke the silence first.
"I heard... Sihyun is not doing well."
His tone was gentle, but the room tensed.
Muwon bowed slightly.
"Yes, Your Majesty. He's recovering."
The King's brows pulled together slightly.
"Shouldn't a royal physician see him? His condition must be closely monitored."
Muwon answered firmly, but with courtesy:
"A physician will not help, Your Majesty. Sihyun is... a sorcerer. His energy is depleted—that's all. What he needs now is rest."
There was a pause. A moment where tension thickened between truth and formality.
The King nodded slowly.
"Very well. If that's the case…"
He looked down thoughtfully before continuing,
"Would it be alright if I visited him myself? Later, of course. I do not wish to intrude."
Muwon didn't hesitate.
"Of course, Your Majesty. I'm sure he would appreciate it."
Behind them, the elders remained silent—but their gazes flickered.
Elder Baekjin's lips tightened.
Lady Miran's fan fluttered once—then stilled.
General Gunho gave nothing away.
Jaesuk lowered his head slightly—but not out of respect.
The High Priest murmured a quiet chant under his breath.
In their hearts, they all thought the same thing:
"So the King has grown fond of the sorcerer… That complicates things."
They had planted spies.
Sent shadows to follow the King and the Crown Prince.
Planned carefully to exploit the cursed bloodline.
But none of them expected this level of loyalty, or bond, between the royals and a Demon Sorcerer.
Their plans… might not go as easily as they hoped.
SECRET CHAMBER – EVENING
A room hidden deep within the palace—dark, stone-walled, lit only by the flicker of oil lamps. Scrolls lined the corners, sealed boxes sat untouched, and the air was thick with incense and whispered treachery.
Gathered around a square stone table were the five elders:
Lady Miran seated elegantly, her lacquered nails tapping her fan against the table's surface.
Elder Baekjin, arms folded, eyes narrowed.
General Gunho, leaning against the wall, brooding.
Elder Jaesuk, pacing slowly.
High Priest Sangwook, fingers locked in prayer, but lips twisted in thought.
Lady Miran slammed her fan shut.
"Useless, the lot of them!"
she snapped, voice venomous.
"The spies we placed on the King and the Crown Prince couldn't deliver one simple thing. Not a whisper, not a thread."
General Gunho's jaw clenched.
"They're being watched more closely than we thought. Even the palace walls have grown eyes."
Baekjin added coldly,
"Still… all is not lost."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Sihyun is weakening, and the 20th mark—"
He paused, eyes glinting.
"—it's already beginning to show."
Jaesuk turned toward the others, smirking.
"He won't be in control for long. That mark will change him. Twist his mind. Make him volatile."
He stopped pacing.
"We won't need to lift a finger. He'll give us the perfect excuse soon enough."
Lady Miran's lips curled slowly into a smile.
"Then we frame him for treason. Massacre. Poison. Take your pick."
Baekjin nodded.
"He's a Demon Sorcerer. That alone makes him guilty in the eyes of the court. When the time comes…"
The High Priest finally spoke, voice low and gravelly,
"The people will not mourn a demon's fall. They will thank us for it."
Silence followed.
The air pulsed with conspiratorial energy.
Jaesuk broke it with a final whisper:
"Let the prince protect him. Let the king visit him. We'll wait. When the 20th mark fully awakens... we strike."
The firelight flickered across their faces.
Predators, every one of them.
Watching.
Waiting.
EVENING
The room was dimly lit by golden lanterns. The wind rustled lightly through the silk curtains. A bowl of untouched herbal broth sat cooling on a nearby table.
Muwon sat silently beside the bed, his eyes never leaving Sihyun's sleeping face. His hand was wrapped firmly around Sihyun's, thumb gently brushing over the knuckles. The warmth between them said what words couldn't.
After some time, Sihyun stirred—eyelids fluttering open with effort. He blinked slowly, breathing shallow.
Muwon leaned closer, voice soft.
"Sihyun… you're awake."
Sihyun's gaze met his, tired but aware.
"Are you feeling better now?"
Muwon asked.
"Do you want some water? Or a little porridge?"
Sihyun made a weak effort to sit up. Muwon immediately moved, slipping an arm behind his back to help him upright. Once Sihyun was comfortably propped, he shook his head slowly.
"No…"
he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"I don't want anything…"
Before Muwon could say more, the sound of a gong echoed.
A clear voice from outside the room followed:
"His Majesty, the King, has arrived."
The doors opened with graceful weight, and the King entered, flanked by two silent attendants. He was clad in royal indigo, his expression unreadable.
Both Muwon and Sihyun turned their gaze toward him. Muwon rose to his feet respectfully, while Sihyun remained seated, watching warily.
Muwon bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty."
The King stopped a few paces away from the bed, eyes scanning Sihyun. His brow furrowed—though whether in concern or judgment, it was unclear.
"He looks pale,"
the King finally said, his tone composed but cold.
"So this is the Demon Sorcerer strong enough to heal a royal curse… yet too weak to sit without trembling."
Sihyun's jaw tensed, fingers curling slightly into the blanket. A sharp glow flared in his eyes—but before he could say a word—
"Father!"
Muwon's voice cut through the tension.
A heavy pause filled the chamber.
A heavy silence lingered in the air after Muwon's sharp interruption. The King's gaze shifted between his son and the boy in bed, unreadable.
Then, with a faint smile lacking warmth, he spoke.
"Ah… where are my manners?"
He took a step closer, folding his hands behind his back.
"I came to wish you well, Sorcerer. May your recovery be swift."
His words felt rehearsed, a courtesy rather than genuine concern. He offered a shallow nod, then turned to leave.
Sihyun said nothing—his dark eyes simply followed the King's every move until the door quietly shut behind him.
Only then did Muwon sit back down, his expression darkened with regret.
"I'm sorry about that…"
he said softly, glancing at Sihyun.
Sihyun gave a small disapproving nod, lips twitching upward in a faint, amused smile.
"He's… exactly how I imagined."
His voice was tired but calm.
Then, almost hesitantly, Sihyun reached out, his slender fingers wrapping around Muwon's arm—holding it close, grounding himself.
"Stay with me tonight,"
he whispered, leaning his head gently on Muwon's shoulder.
His eyes slowly shut, his breath easing. There was no tension, no pretense—just the warmth between them.
Muwon smiled, letting out a quiet breath.
He brought his free hand up and gently patted Sihyun's head, his touch light and careful.
"I'll stay,"
he murmured.
"I'm not going anywhere."
The room fell into a quiet hush, the flicker of the lantern casting soft shadows over the peaceful scene.