A few days have passed since I parted with my dad at the hospital.
Though I felt anxious about separating from him, my dad calmed me down by saying he had no intention of ever being apart from me again and that we would be together continuously in the future.
However, he mentioned that for the time being, we would communicate through Hyunwook.
In all likelihood, my cell phone and computer are already under surveillance.
Of course, nothing was explicitly said, but Joo Minhyuk—who had previously installed cameras in my pavilion—might do who-knows-what again.
I still don’t know where the cameras were installed or if they are still there now.
Seeing how he thoroughly saw through my behavior, it seems they weren’t just in one or two places.
What worries me is that I shared quite a lot of stories about my past life with Hyunwook.
Yet, because he makes absolutely no mention of that part, it only leaves me confused.
Just where on earth are the cameras, and how much of our conversations did he hear?
It was a massive headache.
Above all, the air inside the imperial palace these days is far too heavy.
I am aware that the first trial regarding the crime of rebellion has begun, but my grandfather still denies all charges and is maintaining his stance of being falsely accused.
One would think he’d be exhausted from the high-intensity investigation, but he isn’t budging at all.
In a way, he is a truly remarkable human being.
To deny everything even while his close associates are opening their mouths one by one.
I was driven to the brink of anxiety thinking that at this rate, I would helplessly end up being deposed to a commoner.
The moment I resolved that I must reach a definitive conclusion regarding the divorce and move on, I heard the voice of the Chief Sangseon announcing the arrival of the Emperor.
“Uh, why did he come?”
There was no particular reason for him to visit.
Perhaps because he hadn’t shown his face at all lately, I wound up getting tense at his sudden visit.
In the past, I used to be glad whenever he came, but now his visits only bring me dread.
Joo Minhyuk, as if accustomed to me doing nothing but lying in bed, didn’t bother waiting and walked right into the bedroom.
His face as he entered the room was so gaunt that for a split second, I almost leaped up.
From his dry, rough skin to his unfocused pupils, it was a face completely and perfectly ravaged by fatigue and stress.
It was obvious that he was suffering inside and out from the trial, the day-and-night investigations of the suspects, and the issue regarding my residence.
Yet, it was truly strange; it seems a person’s intuition is not something to be ignored.
Exceptionally today, Joo Minhyuk’s appearance was different from other days, and the vibe felt strange too.
I got a gut feeling that he had brought something that would put an end to our relationship.
Watching him approach me with an extremely dark expression, I raised my upper body which had been lying down.
Joo Minhyuk, who pulled over the chair next to the bedside nightstand and sat in front of me, set an envelope he was holding down onto the bed and rubbed his fatigue-stricken face with his hands.
Then, slowly removing his hands from his face, he locked eyes with me.
“…Things are heading in a completely different direction from the plan I had conceived, so in truth, I am very flustered. I thought it would go according to plan. That’s why I don’t even have a clue as to what would be best to do next. I really don’t know.”
From his anguished expression, I could feel Joo Minhyuk’s deep agony.
It was certainly pitiful and it made my heart ache, but even so, it couldn’t be helped.
We can no longer be together.
If I were to remain by his side, I could guarantee that the fatigue on Joo Minhyuk’s face would never disappear.
“It might seem that way right this moment, but later on, Your Majesty will definitely realize that sending me away was the right thing to do. If I stay by your side, Your Majesty’s face will always be filled with nothing but shadows and fatigue from suffering because of the ministers. Eventually, that exhausted heart will turn into anger, and we will do nothing but fight continuously.”
And I would probably go on repeatedly bringing up the sense of betrayal I felt from the incidents of that time.
Our end was obvious.
The very fact that I am the grandchild of the Prime Minister is the reason we can never have a happy ending.
Joo Minhyuk, who had given no reaction to my words, picked up the envelope and held it out to me.
“It’s what you wanted. Inside, everything you need from the necessary documents to the precautionary notes is included. Check it.”
Leaving it at that, Joo Minhyuk rose from his seat, turned around, and quietly walked to the door.
“Is there really not even a single bit of the heart you once showed me left anymore? To the point that you don’t even want to compromise with me any longer? I thought we shared the same heart. But did it really cool down that quickly?”
It was a voice that sounded as if he were begging, and an expression that showed he wanted to confirm one last time.
Did it cool down that quickly?
This is less of a heart cooling down and more of a disappointment.
Since trust vanished and only distrust remains, filling that space with doubt, it is a completely different issue from a heart cooling down.
If I had simply grown to dislike him, I would have forced myself to live with him anyway, but this is a matter where I cannot even do that.
“What exactly do you mean by sharing the same heart? That heart which Your Majesty never once expressed to me in words? Just what on earth were Your Majesty’s feelings toward me anyway. A person with utility value? A person you grew attached to just to that extent because you couldn’t overcome your lust and shared your body so much? Other than that, I wouldn’t know. Since you never told me even once.”
With my final words, a silence settled between us, and Joo Minhyuk, who stared at me for a brief moment, walked completely out the door.
Our problem was that we grew close far too quickly.
Without any detailed conversations about the future, we got fired up by a rapidly progressing relationship and became close at a breakneck speed.
And to that exact extent, we knew nothing about each other.
I failed to properly grasp Joo Minhyuk’s tendencies which I observed from up close, and the same went for Joo Minhyuk.
The sweeping emotions were urgent, and we were at the young ages of a mere twenty and twenty-two.
Although it is an age where it’s only natural to have many things one is clumsy at or doesn’t know, because our positions were what they were, what we had to bear was different from our peers.
Even though I didn’t die like in the original work, I ended up unable to remain by his side just like in the original work.
Another person will step into this position.
I was an existence of exactly this much significance.
The thought that I would be different vanished mercilessly, and whatever the cause, I was ultimately just a person who was leaving.
It seems I existed merely to fulfill the role of letting someone else occupy the space beside Joo Minhyuk.
While Minhyuk checked the documents piled high like a mountain, Yul cautiously observed his sensitive appearance.
“Why. If you have something to say, don’t walk on eggshells and just say it. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I was wondering if it isn’t about time for Her Highness to bring the documents. She must have thoroughly checked all the precautionary notes, right?”
“Probably. Since she’s a more meticulous person than expected, she would have mastered them so as not to be caught off guard.”
“She also understood the clause stating that she must live in a designated place for two years after the divorce, right?”
“Since I wrote down the reason, she would have understood. It’s something done for safety, so she has to comply with that much. Whether it’s someone holding a grudge against the Prime Minister, or an assassin or murderer sent from the Prime Minister’s side, there’s no knowing who might launch an attack from where. I granted the divorce she wanted, so she should tolerate at least that much.”
Minhyuk hadn’t known a situation would come where he would have to hand over the divorce papers directly.
His heart felt as though he wanted to run back, snatch them away, and tear them to shreds.
It took time just to go through the process of handing them over.
Haejoo’s crisis of being deposed to a commoner had arrived right under their noses.
To the point where there was no longer any room to back down.
He had far too easily assumed they would be together, and he had never doubted for a single second that Haejoo would naturally remain by his side.
It was Minhyuk’s arrogance, which left behind nothing but regret.
In truth, the shock of this outcome was so great that he couldn’t even process how the current situation was turning out.
He couldn’t even begin to fathom whether he would be able to endure the aftermath once Haejoo left.
What should he do?
Just as Yul said, there was no choice but to watch over Haejoo while living apart.
It is a helpless situation where he can only pray that that method works well.
This is the first time he has experienced waiting for the other party’s decision while being unable to do anything like this.
“…I didn’t even know that I had to say it.”
“Say what.”
“I didn’t know I had to tell the Imperial Concubine about the emotions between her and me. Was that how it was originally supposed to be? Weren’t things supposed to be understood even without speaking? Think about it. There’s no way someone would form that kind of relationship with just anyone if they didn’t like them.”
Confirming Yul’s face, which distorted greatly at his words, Minhyuk muttered softly, “So that wasn’t it.”
Yul also shook his head, unable to hide his frustration as he muttered about what a disaster this was.
Minhyuk was currently realizing through Haejoo that there were truly so many things he didn’t know and that he was full of deficiencies.
“Who is it! Stop eavesdropping like a rat and come out!”
Minhyuk, who had been murmuring in a dejected state, suddenly shouted sharply toward the door.
At Minhyuk’s sudden action, Yul leaped up and assumed a state of alert.
“It’s me. Your Majesty.”
“…Lee Siyoon?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t listen on purpose, I really happened to hear by chance. My father asked me to inquire as to how much longer the Daebin Palace will remain in the palace….”
Minhyuk found Lee Siyoon’s expression and tone of voice—which even showed the hint of a smile on the corners of his lips in this kind of situation—bothersome.
The Daebin Palace?
“Is this insubordination or what. To an immensely high existence whom someone like you cannot dare to address that way, the Daebin Palace?”
Minhyuk already found Lee Siyoon and his family, who were trying to raise Siyoon to become the Empress, bothersome.
Although they were a family that achieved great merit in suppressing the rebellion, the fact that they dared to harbor such a delusion is contemptible.
His feelings were already uncomfortable and his mind was noisy enough as it was, yet every little thing was running wild.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty. Since he is someone who will vacate the position very soon anyway, I made a mistake.”
Siyoon quickly lowered his head, pressed down by Minhyuk’s fierce aura.
“Whether the Daebin Palace leaves or not, what does that have to do with you.”
“That is, since a new person will arrive soon, I need to make preparations as well, and also…”
“So what exactly is there for you to prepare? Listen to my words very clearly. The reason I kept you by my side is because you are useful. You did the tasks you were ordered to do better than expected, and you always brought good results. That is why. It is only natural to keep a person with utility value by one’s side.”
Siyoon stared with trembling pupils at Minhyuk, who poured out venomous words directly without talking around it.
“That is the reason I kept you, who are skilled at driving wedges between people, by my side. Did you think I wouldn’t know that you’ve been going around playing games with your words? So stop doing useless nonsense and just stick to your duty.”
Siyoon shed tears as he blankly watched Minhyuk leave the room—who didn’t even hide his expression of disgust, even throwing down the pen he was holding.
To think that after staying by his side and helping the Emperor for a long time, the return would be an insult like this.
He couldn’t understand why the Emperor kept acting this way over someone like the Daebin Palace.
Then, as if making up his mind, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a call somewhere.
Someone like the Daebin Palace, it really would be better to just get rid of him.
