UN 15

Chapter 15

The voice, which did not pretend to be gentle, sounded unfamiliar and sharp, almost like someone else’s—but she did not notice.
Soran clung to his arm.
“Please! Help me, I beg you.”
“So, what exactly are you asking?”

Gyoheum wondered why she was acting so emotionally. Only one thing came to mind.
Jung Seoryeong.

As Gyoheum’s eyes sharpened, Soran spoke.
“I’ll prepare breakfast! So please… allow Lady Yeonsan to… return home.”
“……”
He still couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“No, I will do all the work she should do. I’ll prepare the meals, do the laundry, clean… so please allow Lady Yeonsan to attend the child’s funeral.”
“……”
“Please.”

Ah. Only then did Gyoheum’s expression harden, as if he finally understood what had happened.
So, Lady Yeonsan’s child had indeed passed away.

Soran’s hands, gripping his arm, trembled like leaves in the wind. Bowing her head, she whispered softly, almost like a sigh:
“Lady Yeonsan is… so pitiful.”

Gyoheum’s gaze followed her, sinking into thought.
“……Please.”

The edge of the pitch-black sky was turning a faint blue. A sudden impulse to embrace her rose within him.
“……”

Gyoheum clenched his fists tightly, enduring the moment with his teeth gritted so he wouldn’t reach out to her.

“Who’s here?”

At Gyoheum’s question, Jaegwan glanced back, his face pale. His voice was urgent.
“It’s… Lord Jung Seoryeong. Shall I let him in?”

Gyoheum narrowed his eyes instead of replying. His mouth set firmly.
He had been planning to visit Jung Seoryeong soon with Soran, but now the elder had come first. Why?
No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t understand the reason.

“……”
“Sir.”

Jaegwan pressed him impatiently, clearly bothered by making Jung Seoryeong wait.

Finally, Gyoheum stood. The tiger had come to the den before him, so he needed to hear what the elder had to say.
“I’ll go out myself.”
“Yes, sir.”

Jaegwan let out a sigh of relief and stepped aside.

Outside the building, Jung Seoryeong was waiting in the courtyard.
It wasn’t just Jaegwan who was uneasy; his subordinates hovered around Jung Seoryeong like puppies with nervous bladders.

Descending the stone steps, Gyoheum offered a polite smile.
“How kind of you to come all this way. I would have visited if you had sent someone.”
“No need for that. I happened to think of it while passing by.”
“Please, come inside.”
“Very well.”

Father-in-law and son-in-law walked together with an unusual warmth. One subordinate, staring blankly, whispered softly into Jaegwan’s ear:
“Wow… it seems Lord Jung Seoryeong thinks highly of our master. To remember him while passing by—doesn’t this mean our master is destined for even greater success?”
“Shh. Don’t speak carelessly.”
“Did I say anything wrong? Honestly, someone like our master could hold an even higher post. His father is such an upright man that it’s practically a sin no one can help him secure a position…”
“Shh.”

Jaegwan glared at his subordinate, who slinked away silently.

Meanwhile, Gyoheum, having opened the door, gestured with a smile for Jung Seoryeong to enter first. Then he turned to Jaegwan:
“Prepare some tea.”
“No need. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

Jung Seoryeong declined graciously. Gyoheum did not insist and closed the door.

“……”

Sitting across from each other, neither spoke. The heavy silence weighed on Gyoheum’s shoulders.
He did not believe Jung Seoryeong’s claim of passing by casually—and the elder wasn’t naive either.

Jung Seoryeong surveyed the office with a subtle smile. For a moment, his eyebrows twitched.
Though called an office, the room was chaotic, shared by several officials.
His gaze slowly scanned the room and finally stopped on Gyoheum’s face.

Gyoheum, though a military officer, was handsome. His eyes were clear and sharp like a scholar’s, and his lips were red. Yet he did not look like a civil official; his height and broad frame gave him a commanding presence.

“Hmm.”

Jung Seoryeong, letting out a soft hum, asked, as if recalling something:
“How is married life?”
“Thanks to your concern, it couldn’t be better.”
“I fear I have failed to teach her enough while she was in my care. I worried she might be lacking and cause trouble, but hearing this eases my mind.”

Failed to teach her enough while she was in your care…
Gyoheum repeated this silently, picturing Soran’s face—clumsy and naive for the daughter of Jung Seoryeong.
That morning, she had clung to his arm, crying quietly. The image was still vivid.

—I will prepare the meals, do the laundry, clean… please allow Lady Yeonsan to attend the child’s funeral. Lady Yeonsan is so… pitiful.

He could no longer remember exactly what he had said. Only Soran’s tears, wiped quickly with her sleeve as she ran to the kitchen, remained etched in his mind.

Was it an act to distract him? A maid could hardly cry so mournfully over the death of a child.

In the current reality, seven out of ten children did not reach adulthood. Four died during birth, two did not survive past their first year, and at best, a child might live to ten.

Yet Soran genuinely pitied Lady Yeonsan and her child.
The Soran who had been held in Jung Seoryeong’s arms. And the Soran mourning the child’s death.
Which of them was her true self? Or perhaps neither truly was.

Lost in thought, Gyoheum felt her gaze upon him and consciously offered a soft smile.
“Not at all. She already manages the maids and takes care of the household herself. Thanks to her, I can focus entirely on external affairs. Is there any wife more perfect than this?”

“Is that so?”

Jung Seoryeong knew it was not entirely true. Gyoheum knew he didn’t believe it either.
They exchanged these formulaic words while hiding their true intentions.

After several polite exchanges, Jung Seoryeong asked tentatively:
“Does the child ever say anything else?”
“What do you mean?”
“How is it in my house…? Never mind.”

Shaking his head as if it were nothing, he smiled faintly again.

“By the way,” he lowered his voice meaningfully, “how long do you intend to stay at your post?”
“What do you mean?”

Gyoheum feigned innocence. Jung Seoryeong clicked his tongue.
“If you’re only patrolling the capital, what would people say? My reputation would be ruined.”
“I cannot simply wish for a promotion and have it granted, can I?”

Jung Seoryeong’s gaze lingered on him, as if measuring him.
Gyoheum needed the elder’s trust; the closer he was, the closer he could get to Saheum’s truth.

Should he reveal his ambition now? He lowered his voice cautiously.
“Of course, I will seize any opportunity that arises. I do not intend to remain in this position for long either.”

“Good. A man must have that much spirit.”

Finally, Jung Seoryeong nodded approvingly, then grew serious.
“What if I were to give you that opportunity?”

“……”

Gyoheum remained silent, his mind racing in the still air.
Why promote me? Am I needed? Why? In place of my brother? Or for some other reason?
Questions without answers swirled within him.

“Now that you are my son-in-law, should you not accomplish something great for His Majesty?”

Son-in-law. Jung Seoryeong’s intent was clear.
He deliberately emphasized that they were now linked as family—a powerful bond.
He seemed to expect Gyoheum to pledge loyalty.

Even now, if he closed his eyes, Saheum’s final image came vividly to mind: the wrinkled brow, tightly pressed lips, thick rope marks on his neck.
A face distorted by pain, almost unrecognizable as Saheum.

He had called out to him:
—Brother.
No answer came.

—Brother!
Even louder, still only the servants’ cries returned.

Gyoheum clenched his jaw, swallowing his trembling breath. His tightly clenched fists trembled.
The world turned white; everything seemed upside down.
It was the first time he had felt so powerless.

Gyoheum desired more power. Greater strength.
Not for wealth or glory, but to reveal the truth of that day.

To do so, he had to enter the palace, meet more influential people, and gather more allies.
So that he could fight on equal terms with those before him.

If someone tried to use him as a pawn, he would comply—until the decisive moment, when he would seize the king. Not the king in the opponent’s camp, but the one in his own.

Bowing his head with a smile that would please Jung Seoryeong, he said,
“Why should I refuse?”

“Wise. Soon, the palace will become tumultuous. Do you know why?”