SNF | Chapter 1.4

Reluctantly, Yeon-oh lay down and closed his eyes. The darkness behind his eyelids felt suffocating. His body stiffened involuntarily, and an odd, restless thumping echoed from within his chest. There was an anxious weight pressing down on him, one he couldn’t quite explain.

Unaware of Yeon-oh’s inner turmoil, the Prime Minister pulled the blanket up to his neck and patted his chest lightly, almost as if soothing a child.

“I used to do this for you often when you were little.”

“…….”

“Have you already fallen asleep?”

His father’s voice was gentle, but Yeon-oh kept his eyes shut and his lips sealed. Taking his silence as an answer, the Prime Minister remained for a while longer before finally rising.

The weight pressing on one side of the bed disappeared, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. Only then did the lingering tension within Yeon-oh begin to ease. The restlessness that had clawed at him earlier faded away, and just as he had thought sleep would never come, drowsiness crept in, carried on the lingering effects of the medicine.

By the time Yeon-oh awoke from his deep, medicine-induced sleep, darkness had already blanketed the land. The only light slicing through the shadows came from the moonbeams filtering through the lattice of the window. Still lying down, he turned his head. Of course, there was no one there.

His eyelids were still heavy with drowsiness, and he blinked slowly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. But then he realized—the night was darker than he expected. The realization jolted him fully awake, and he sat up, making his presence known.

“You’ve woken up?”

Hearing his movements, the nanny entered immediately.

“The banquet?”

He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but judging by how dark it was outside, it was clear that he had slept for quite some time. His voice came out hoarse and thick, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to steady it. In the meantime, the nanny lit a candle and answered his question.

“It began about an hour ago.”

“You should have woken me.”

“You had a fever again while you were sleeping. It was brief, but I sent word to His Excellency, and he ordered us not to wake you.”

Yeon-oh ran a dry hand down his face, frustration lacing his movements.

“His Excellency said that right now, your health is the most important thing.”

“…Even so.”

“You can make an appearance at the Spring Festival. Missing tonight’s banquet won’t bring you any disgrace. Who would dare criticize the Young Master for that? So please, focus on recovering.”

The nanny’s voice carried a knowing warmth, as if she fully understood what was bothering him.

Yeon-oh wanted to present himself as the flawless heir of the family. He was fragile, yes, but he wanted to prove that his health was not a weakness that would hinder him from leading the household. He didn’t want to be seen as some feeble young master who couldn’t even attend a banquet due to a slight fever.

He hesitated, weighing his options. The nanny was right—besides, if he started getting ready now, it would take too long. The banquet was hosted by the Prime Minister himself. As the heir returning to the Capital after eight years, he couldn’t afford to show up looking hastily prepared. If anything, it would be better to make a proper appearance at the upcoming Spring Festival instead.

“…Fine.”

Once he made up his mind, acceptance came quickly. Seeing that he had given up on attending, the nanny stepped closer.

“Are you hungry? Should I bring you something light?”

Yeon-oh shook his head. Since he had been sleeping all this time, he didn’t feel particularly hungry.

“Still, it would be best if you ate something.”

“Later. More importantly, where is my outer robe?”

“You’re going out?”

“Just to the back garden. I’ve been stuck in this room for four days, and I feel stifled.”

Yeon-oh had been feeling restless for a while now, and he had reached his limit. He knew the nanny would disapprove, but at this moment, he was too stubborn to care.

“Why don’t you just open the window for a while instead? You just had a fever earlier, so you’re not completely recovered yet.”

Despite her protests, Yeon-oh’s expression remained firm. The nanny hesitated, lips parting as if to argue further, but then let out a resigned sigh and brought his outer robe.

She knew that once Yeon-oh made up his mind, no amount of reasoning would sway him. He was usually reasonable, but there were times when he became impossibly stubborn—times like this, when he wouldn’t back down regardless of the consequences. Whenever that happened, the nanny would mutter that he had inherited this particular trait from his mother.

And just like always, Yeon-oh pretended not to hear it as he pulled the robe over his shoulders.

“It’s too dark outside; you won’t be able to see much.”

The nanny was clearly hoping he would change his mind, but he paid no heed to her concerns and finished preparing to step out. As soon as he emerged from the room, Hasung, Ranyoung, and a few other attendants instinctively moved to follow him.

Yeon-oh stopped in his tracks and glanced over at them.

“The nanny will accompany me. The rest of you, stay here.”

His cold voice sent a shiver down their spines. Their expressions wavered with confusion and unease. The Prime Minister had been the one to enter earlier, so they had no choice but to allow it—but that didn’t mean Yeon-oh had forgotten their insolence. They had let someone in without informing him, their master. And he had no intention of letting that slide.

“I am your guard, Young Master.”

“I wasn’t aware you were so devoted to your duty, Hasung.”

Yeon-oh’s words had been a clear jab at them for letting the Prime Minister in without his permission, but Hasung showed no sign of understanding. Or perhaps, he was simply pretending not to.

“As if anyone would dare scale these high walls and sneak into the inner quarters on a night like this. Enough.”

Having silenced them thoroughly, Yeon-oh turned away and started walking down the corridor. The nanny, uncertain how to handle his uncharacteristic sharpness tonight, hesitated before hastily following after him. The attendants, however, dared not move after Yeon-oh’s cold command, leaving the procession limited to just him and the nanny.

Only when they had walked far enough for the servants to be out of sight did the nanny finally speak.

“Young Master.”

Yeon-oh chose to ignore her. He had no interest in hearing what she had to say—it was obvious anyway.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken. Realizing that he had no intention of responding, the nanny eventually gave up, and so their walk toward the back garden remained wordless.

Outside, the cold was sharp enough to justify her earlier concern. Though he thought he had dressed warmly enough, the biting wind still found its way through the layers, slipping into the gaps and pressing its chill against his skin. Instinctively, his body curled inward, shoulders hunching against the cold.

He lifted his gaze, the only part of him not bracing against the wind. The moon had yet to reach its fullest form, its shape still uneven, incomplete.

Gazing at it for a moment, Yeon-oh then resumed walking.

He had expected to struggle to find his way, unsure of the exact location of the shrine after so many years. But his feet moved without hesitation, as if they remembered the path better than his mind did. And before long, he arrived at the back garden.

Though the darkness obscured much of his surroundings, it could not completely hide the beauty of the place.

The garden of the Marquis of Hanam was renowned. Though the most beautiful garden in the empire was said to be within the golden palace, the Hanam estate’s garden was not far behind in its splendor. Several generations ago, when an emperor’s beloved empress gave birth to a prince, he had summoned palace craftsmen to design this place. Over the years, it had been expanded and refined, and now, it was often compared to Biwon¹, the most breathtaking secret garden in the Capital.

Poets had written verses about its beauty, and its reputation had only grown.

Tonight, Yeon-oh walked through that very garden, past the withered trees that had yet to awaken from winter’s grip. He stopped at the edge of the lotus pond.

Even in the dead of winter, the pond remained a symbol of the Hye family, filled with lotus stems stretching toward the frozen surface. Though the season had not yet arrived for them to bloom, the time would come when lush green leaves would unfurl, and vibrant lotus blossoms would spread their petals, filling the air with their sweet fragrance.

Had it been summer, he might have lingered, admiring the blossoms. But now, in the deep of winter, all he could do was stand before the frozen pond, his posture still and composed.

Then, the wind blew. The lantern beside them flickered—and went out.

Darkness engulfed them instantly.

“What should we do?” The nanny’s voice held a subtle question—should they return?

Yeon-oh shook his head.

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

There was something poetic about the way the darkness settled around them. The moonlight, faint yet persistent, cast just enough illumination for the shapes of the world to remain visible.

“It’s too dark. I’ll fetch a new lantern.”

Displeased by the overwhelming gloom, the nanny insisted she would bring another light and urged him to stay put.

Her tone, reminiscent of someone soothing a child, made Yeon-oh chuckle softly. He nodded and waved a hand dismissively, a silent go on, then.

She hesitated, casting him one last uncertain glance, then finally turned to leave.

“…….”

The moment even the faint presence of someone nearby disappeared, a perfect silence enclosed him like a fortress. No matter how late the night or how deep in the back garden they were, it made no sense for there to be absolutely no one around—but not a single soul was in sight. They were probably all busy serving at the banquet hall. Their absence was a fortunate turn of events for Yeon-oh, who had no desire to have his solitude disturbed.

Within that silence, Yeon-oh did not take his eyes off the frozen lotus pond.

“The fish sink into the water,
The geese fall to the ground,
The moon hides behind the clouds,
And the flowers blush in shame.”

A smooth, almost lyrical voice drifted through the air from somewhere. Yeon-oh turned his head sharply toward the source of the sound, his expression wary.

A man dressed in deep red robes was watching him with a smile.

“When I first came across these words, I wondered to whom they could possibly refer. But now, it seems they were meant for someone like you, young master.”

“…Who are you?” Yeon-oh’s voice was sharp, edged with clear vigilance.

There were three gardens in Hanam Province, and this one was the most secluded of them all—the inner garden, nestled deep within. It was not a place where outsiders were freely allowed to wander. Yet, here stood an unfamiliar man who had not only set foot inside but was addressing him so casually. There was no way he could not be on guard.

“Hmm… well, I wouldn’t call myself a mere night visitor.”

“…….”

“If I were, I would’ve stolen your breath away long before you even sensed my presence. Don’t you think so?” The unknown man shrugged as he spoke.

Yeon-oh did not lower his guard, carefully taking a step back.

This man was dangerous. He had to be cautious. Every instinct in his body screamed as much.

“Ah…” As Yeon-oh stepped backward, his foot caught on a stray stone.

He hadn’t accounted for the fact that he was standing near the lotus pond. It was a misstep—a careless mistake.

If this continued, he was going to fall. And not just any fall—it would be an utterly undignified one.

With a grimace, he braced himself for the inevitable pain and humiliation, closing his eyes.

“Pardon me.” But the pain never came.

Instead, when he opened his eyes, his vision was filled with red—like the color of spilled blood.

“Are you alright?” A voice murmured near his ear.

It took Yeon-oh a moment to register that the darkness filling his sight was the fabric of the man’s robes. He had caught him before he could fall. But that also meant—against his will—he was now practically leaning into the very man he had been wary of.

Realizing this, Yeon-oh bit his lip and immediately pushed him away.

“Judging by the strength with which you’re pushing me, I’d say you’re fine.”

“……”

“You could get seriously hurt if you fall here. Though I’m sure you’d have been careful on your own, I couldn’t help but worry.” The man chuckled lightly, his tone unbothered.