CHAPTER 33
The following morning, the court physicians presented their findings. The parchment was read aloud in the grand hall— the late king had not died of natural causes but through the use of sorcery, his lifeforce drained while in his sleep.
A hush spread through the palace. Everyone knew what that meant.
Whispers rippled like wildfire—one name on everyone's lips: the Demon Sorcerer.
Despite the turmoil, the king was laid to rest with full honors. His burial was a grand affair, drums and gongs echoing across the mourning palace. For several days, the courtyards were shrouded in white, incense filling the air as ministers, servants, and commoners alike wept and offered their bows.
But grief swiftly hardened into suspicion.
When the mourning period ended, Muwon was formally crowned king. The golden coronet sat heavy upon his head as he ascended the Dragon Throne, the new monarch.
Yet before the crown could even warm, the five elders and the court officials gathered, bowing deeply but speaking with sharp tongues.
"Your Majesty,"
Elder Baekjin began, his voice stern.
"The death of the late king cannot be brushed aside. The autopsy reveals sorcery. And there is only one known Demon Sorcerer under this very roof."
High priest Sangwook, his robes trembling with righteous indignation,
"Justice must be served! We cannot allow His Majesty's death to go unanswered. Lord Sihyun must be put to trial."
"Yes!"
echoed the ministers.
"The people whisper. They already suspect him. If we do not act, unrest will spread through the kingdom!"
The voices rose, one after another, each presenting their so-called facts—his presence in the palace, his cursed blood, the timing of the king's death.
Muwon sat upon the throne, his expression unreadable. His gaze swept the hall, weighing every word, every pair of accusing eyes. Finally, he raised a hand, and silence fell.
"I hear your voices,"
he said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying the weight of command.
"And I do not dismiss your concerns. But this is not a matter to rush."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances.
"You demand justice,"
Muwon continued,
"and so do I. But justice clouded by haste is no justice at all. I will consider your petition. Give me time to deliberate."
The words were final. Though dissatisfaction lingered in the air, no one dared push further. The elders and ministers bowed again, retreating, but their eyes burned with the same unspoken suspicion: that the new king was shielding the demon.
The chamber was dim, the curtains half-drawn, letting in only slivers of pale morning light. Sihyun stood by the window, his arms folded loosely, eyes distant as if searching the skies for answers they never gave.
The door creaked open.
Yuhyun stepped in carefully, balancing a tray of food. The quiet clinking of porcelain broke the silence as he set it on the table. He turned, giving his brother a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, then sat beside him.
"You should eat, Sihyun,"
Yuhyun said softly, lifting the lids one by one, releasing the scent of warm rice and side dishes.
"You haven't touched anything since yesterday."
Without turning from the window, Sihyun asked, his voice low and even,
"Tell me… what's been happening in the palace?"
Yuhyun hesitated, then sighed.
"The autopsy result was announced. the late king has already been given a proper burial. And…"
he paused, glancing toward his brother's profile,
"Muwon has already been crowned king."
At that, the corner of Sihyun's lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile.
"King Muwon, is it?"
Yuhyun swallowed and continued,
"The autopsy said the king was killed with magic in his sleep. And… they want you on trial."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. But Sihyun didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his tone almost amused.
"So they truly believe it was me."
He let out a quiet chuckle, empty and sharp.
"No matter what I say, no matter what proof I offer, they wouldn't believe me… would they?"
Yuhyun's hands tightened into fists on his lap. He leaned forward, his voice urgent, almost trembling.
"But I believe you, Sihyun! I know you didn't do it. I don't care what anyone else says—their words mean nothing. You're my brother. And I know you."
For the first time, Sihyun turned his gaze from the window to look at Yuhyun. His black eyes softened just a fraction, but his smile didn't fade—it only grew more bittersweet.
For a fleeting moment, the hardness in Sihyun's eyes wavered. He inhaled slowly, letting Yuhyun's words sink in, and for the first time since the accusations, his shoulders seemed to loosen.
"Yuhyun…"
his voice cracked ever so slightly, low and unguarded,
"sometimes I wonder if you're the only one left who sees me for what I am… and not for what they fear I might be."
Yuhyun blinked, startled by the rare confession, his chest tightening at the pain behind his brother's words.
But just as quickly as it appeared, Sihyun's mask returned. He let out a short laugh, sharp and dismissive, as though mocking himself for showing such weakness. He turned away, voice smooth and guarded again.
"Enough of that. Tell me… how is Taeyang?"
Yuhyun stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
"Sihyun, don't worry so much about him. Just eat first. Taeyang is fine—he's being taken care of… looked after by his maid—"
The words slipped out before Yuhyun realized what he'd said.
Sihyun's head whipped around, his black eyes narrowing like blades. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with tension. Yuhyun froze under that gaze, realizing his mistake too late.
"I…"
Yuhyun's throat went dry.
"Forget what I said. Please, just eat."
But Sihyun's voice cut through like a whip.
"Taeyang… is being looked after by someone?"
He stepped forward, his presence sharp and demanding.
"Who are they? Tell me now."
"Sihyun, calm down,"
Yuhyun tried, raising his hands in placation.
"It's nothing. Just a caretaker, nothing more—"
"Nothing more?"
Sihyun's tone cracked, anger and fear bleeding together. He pushed back the chair, standing abruptly, his shadow falling across Yuhyun.
"What if Taeyang likes them more than me? What if he forgets who his father is?"
His voice rose, trembling with possessive desperation.
"I am his father, Yuhyun!"
The shout echoed through the chamber, rattling more than the walls.
Yuhyun's chest tightened at the sight. He didn't like where this was going—not the sharp edge in Sihyun's voice, nor the fear behind it.
"Sihyun, listen to me—"
Yuhyun's voice wavered as he reached across the table, but Sihyun's glare pinned him in place.
"When did they become his caretaker?"
Sihyun's words were sharp, clipped, each one a demand.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
Yuhyun swallowed hard, his palms sweating.
"It's not like that… I just thought—"
"You thought?"
Sihyun barked, his temper igniting like dry wood. His fists trembled at his sides, veins tightening along his arms.
"You thought it was fine to let someone else take my place? To keep this from me?"
"Sihyun, please… calm down,"
Yuhyun pleaded, rising to his feet.
"You're going to—"
"I need to see Taeyang."
Sihyun's voice cut through his brother's plea like ice. His jaw tightened, eyes dark and stormy.
"Tell me where he is. Now."
Yuhyun's lips parted, searching for words, but nothing came. His silence was enough.
The chair scraped harshly against the floor as Sihyun pushed it aside. Without waiting for an answer, he stormed toward the door, his cloak flaring behind him like dark wings.
"Sihyun—!"
Yuhyun rushed after him, panic racing through his chest. His steps echoed in the corridor as he tried to catch up. He knew exactly what would happen if Sihyun saw Taeyang like this. His brother's emotions were a flood—uncontrolled, relentless—and Taeyang would be swept into it whether he wanted to or not.
If Muwon found out… if anyone else found out…
"Sihyun, stop!"
Yuhyun called, his voice almost breaking as he reached out, fingers just inches away from Sihyun's arm.
But Sihyun didn't stop. He didn't even look back.
Yuhyun's heart pounded in his throat. He had to stop him before it was too late.