In the capital, a long spring rain fell.
Heoseokgyeom moved under the eaves where raindrops pattered. Breathing in, damp air filled his lungs.
Lately, he often recalled past events or looked at himself with disdain, thinking of his lord as an incompetent old man. Heavy regrets weighed on his shoulders.
Still, today wasn’t so bad.
He had succeeded in finding the person Ye-kyeong requested. Though his grandson asked for two things, Heoseokgyeom had handed over one item to a temple outside the capital, completing the first task.
But it was too early to feel pride in fulfilling the request.
The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
On one hand, he wondered how Shin Gwiryeong managed to sway Ye-kyeong’s heart.
In the past, Ye-kyeong had been obsessed with entertainment and indulgence, as if escaping reality. Heoseokgyeom had avoided him for it.
How could someone change so suddenly?
Could Shin Gwiryeong’s bold, cunning words have persuaded the mad prince, even from afar?
No, he had started changing before that.
Something significant must have triggered it.
“Lord?”
Heoseokgyeom, staring at the mansion’s wall from under the eaves, turned to a hesitant servant. The servant fidgeted, as if guilty of a grave mistake.
“Speak plainly. I know.”
The mansion had been noisy since morning. He knew it stemmed from a young boy who arrived last night.
Admitting his own uselessness before his strict master was no easy task.
When the servant couldn’t speak, Heoseokgyeom sighed.
“I know, so speak. That boy from last night, right?”
The person Ye-kyeong asked him to find was a slave, and a very young one at that. He didn’t seem useful enough to benefit Ye-kyeong by keeping him close.
But since Ye-kyeong specifically requested this slave, there must be a reason.
After showing a changed demeanor, his grandson had abruptly left for Bukgye. He likely had a plan in seeking this slave.
It was disappointing that Ye-kyeong shared no details, but what right did Heoseokgyeom, a mere servant, have to voice such feelings?
He nodded.
“He’s not here now. From the moment he entered, he hasn’t stopped running wild. He’s a real beast.”
A slave destined to be a mad prince might make a fitting pair.
They might connect through shared recklessness or status, but one was a prince, the other a mere slave. No matter how defiant, a slave wouldn’t dare act boldly before a prince.
“Don’t speak lightly. He’s to serve His Highness. We can’t show him in such a state.”
For a slave, disobedience warranted some violence, but this one was meant for Ye-kyeong. They’d already sent him out of the capital.
“Even beating him wouldn’t tame him,” the servant said, mimicking Ye-kyeong’s stern expression.
But Heoseokgyeom couldn’t let the boy cause chaos in his mansion, troubling other servants.
“I’ll see him myself.”
Heoseokgyeom’s voice grew firm.
If it helped Ye-kyeong, this effort was no burden.
“Find him!”
The hall where the slave was kept was chaotic before Heoseokgyeom arrived. A servant shouted that the lord was coming, and Heoseokgyeom hurried in.
He saw three servants struggling to restrain a wild boy, a scene of utter disorder.
The young slave growled like a beast, his clothes tattered and filthy. No wonder the servant compared him to a beast. Even the stray cats in the mansion looked cleaner.
But strip away the dirt, and he had a refined face. If he were a few years younger, his gender might be hard to discern. He shared some traits with Shin Gwiryeong.
The other servants quickly clasped their hands and stepped back at Heoseokgyeom’s arrival, but the boy, meeting him for the first time, seemed to realize who he was only gradually.
When the boy growled again, the servants panicked, trying to restrain him, but Heoseokgyeom’s gesture was faster.
The sword he always carried, except in the palace, clinked as he drew it, freezing the room.
The servants, never having seen their lord wield it, assumed he was furious.
Then Heoseokgyeom swung.
A gasp.
Even a defiant slave wouldn’t be killed, the servants thought, startled.
The blade stopped an inch from the boy’s chin.
Whether from causing trouble or fear of death, the boy’s face paled instantly.
“Do you know who I am?”
Silence followed. The boy shook his head.
“If your master acts kindly, you won’t be treated so gently.”
“No.”
The reply came.
Heoseokgyeom continued.
“I am Heoseokgyeom.”
The boy’s eyes widened. Though unaware of Heoseokgyeom’s rank, to a slave, he was an impossibly high figure.
The boy tilted his head, as if seeking more explanation.
He resembled an untamed animal. Heoseokgyeom let out a dry laugh.
“Your master is far above me.”
“Would a beast understand human words?”
The sword’s edge touched the boy’s chin.
“Your fate depends on him. You must be ready to die for him.”
The blade pressed against the tender skin.
“That’s the only reason you’re kept alive.”
Loyalty was all that mattered to a prince. Heoseokgyeom had no intention of killing an unarmed boy in a hall, but without such measures, taming him would take too long.
The boy’s eyes darted, perhaps seeking escape or scheming. Either way, it was futile before Heoseokgyeom.
But his next question was unexpected.
“Who is my master?”
He dared ask, even with a blade at his throat. Heoseokgyeom snorted, impressed by his audacity.
Such spirit was rare.
If not for Ye-kyeong’s request, he’d want the boy for himself.
Reluctantly, Heoseokgyeom answered.
“The rightful prince of this land.”
Why am I doing this?
The thought struck as I wrote a letter to send to the capital.
Ugh.
Why am I scribbling on paper?
Since when did I wield a brush?
“Argh!”
I threw the brush and paper, standing from my chair. Papers fluttered around.
I’m a swordsman, but at this rate, my dignity—
I grabbed my hair, groaning.
“Your Highness?”
A knock came, and Han Naegwan called from outside.
Seems my outburst was heard.
They didn’t hear everything, did they?
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“I’m always here, so call when needed.”
“Got it.”
After a moment, Han Naegwan’s presence faded.
I sheepishly gathered the scattered papers and brush, placing them neatly on the desk.
Honestly.
Writing isn’t hard. The mad prince’s handwriting was always terrible, so even my clumsy scribbles wouldn’t raise eyebrows.
Tossing the paper was just venting.
The real issue is my lack of strength.
Weak.
I hadn’t even trained recently. My skills were better at first, but this frail body won’t match Baekyeon’s level in a day or two.
If my body strengthens gradually, fine. War isn’t tomorrow. But my weakness means I can’t act alone.
My allies—Yu Geung, Heoseokgyeom, and the warriors from Wolhanseong.
Would they stay loyal to me? Hard to say.
Probably not.
They follow because Wolhanseong sees us as outsiders.
I need to prove myself to win Bukgye’s hearts, but I’m still hesitant.
Fleeing from a few dozen monsters?
Others call my survival luck, but fainting from shock? Not quite.
If King Bonhyeon sends troops and Bukgye’s lords pledge support, I’d have little to do.
That’s if things go well, but my time here is short.
It’s not about weight; useful allies are hard to find, so I can’t waste time.
Bukgye’s lords aren’t easy to sway.
“Still no word from my grandfather.”
Finding someone with so little to go on isn’t easy.
No need for him to check on a distant grandson, wasting money.
Chincheon, that bastard, is who I should find first.
If the Chincheon who killed me had joined the Magyeong expedition, he wouldn’t have fled. He’d have crushed the monster horde.
He was that strong.
Not now, but someday, he’ll return as a monster.
I can’t let my guard down.
This time, I’ll beat him to a pulp and keep him in line.
The sound of my laughter.
Heh heh heh.