BYBM Chapter 0 (Part 2)
by BreeYet despite finding his foolish heart utterly ridiculous, she had chosen to stay silent.
Even knowing that he harbored feelings for her own betrothed, she had simply accepted it without hesitation, believing that being open about it was far better than deceiving each other with sweet words and empty pretense.
This was how she treated those she cherished most—by understanding them completely, piece by piece.
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And that was precisely why Yoo Hyun-jin treasured her so deeply.
……But no matter how much he truly cared for and loved her, envy was still envy.
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No matter how much she insisted, ‘There’s nothing to be jealous about!’—he was jealous all the same.
That noble, beautiful princess, whether she wanted to or not, would eventually have this man.
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They would become a flawless pair—neither one lacking, neither one excessive.
And even if, by some chance, that didn’t happen—even if she didn’t claim him in the end—
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What difference would it make?
To Yoo Hyun-jin, nothing would change. Nothing at all.
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With nothing to his name, living as a man, and destined to spend his life in chastity, serving only Hanaram—Yoo Hyun-jin knew that this man was as unreachable as if he were on the other side of the world.
So, he might as well savor this absurdly miraculous moment while he could.
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Still curled up at the edge of the bedding, Yoo Hyun-jin slowly lowered himself down. From this angle, he could see the man’s face directly. Carefully, silently, he inched closer for a better view.
Unbelievable.
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To be able to look at him this freely, from so close.
Maybe this was Hanaram’s reward for his years of faithful devotion. To bless him with such a dream—such a gift. When he woke up tomorrow, he would have to offer three days of gratitude prayers.
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His gaze flickered downward for a moment. The man’s body was hidden beneath the blanket.
He had heard that his leg had been badly injured. The reason he had returned from his post was because his injury had been severe enough to require rehabilitation.
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The Pyeonghang region, where he served as governor, had long suffered from tensions with Songal. Terror attacks and uprisings were common there. Though things had stabilized somewhat after he took office, a crisis large enough to make national headlines still erupted once or twice a year.
Not long ago, a massive attack had completely destroyed an annex of the government building. He had been caught in the explosion, sustaining a serious injury to his right leg. That was two months ago. Since then, he had returned to the capital to recover and undergo rehabilitation. His recovery was progressing well—most of the visible wounds had already healed, and now, he was focused on rehabilitation.
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When Yoo Hyun-jin had first heard the news of the accident, he had felt his heart plummet.
“……”
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He wanted to help.
To ease the pain, even just a little.
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But in the end, he only fidgeted with his fingers before giving up.
His heart already felt like it was about to burst just from looking at him. There was no way he had the courage to actually reach out and touch him.
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So instead, Yoo Hyun-jin simply stared.
Tracing every inch of the man’s face with his eyes, as if trying to carve it into memory.
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When he had seen him on the news right after the incident, he had looked gaunt and haggard. But now, he seemed much better.
At least from his face alone, there wasn’t much difference from before.
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…No matter how many times he looked, he was still ridiculously handsome.
His sharp, cold features somewhat undercut that beauty, but when examined closely, it was clear—his face was sculpted to perfection.
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What would he look like if he smiled?
He had never seen him truly smile.
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Not just smiling—he had never really seen him express emotions at all.
…Though, maybe that was just with him.
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The photos in the newspapers and the clips on the news always showed him with a similar expression. But on rare occasions, when Yoo Hyun-jin had glimpsed him from afar among close acquaintances, he had sometimes seen him smile slightly or frown.
Yet never—not even once—had he ever done so in front of him.
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Not that they were close enough for that.
But even from the beginning, it felt like this man hadn’t liked him very much.
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After his father passed away, the brigadier general who had been his superior had taken in Yoo Hyun-jin’s family, allowing them to stay at his estate while working in the household.
And he had been there.
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Even as a boy, his expression and demeanor hadn’t been much different from what they were now.
The estate was massive, and the difference in status between a house owner’s son and a servant’s son meant that they rarely had reason to interact. But still, living in the same place for years meant that they had inevitably crossed paths multiple times.
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At first, he had thought his naturally expressionless face was just the way he was.
But over time, he began to feel that this man simply didn’t like him.
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He would be talking to others, his expression carrying a faint smile—only for that smile to disappear the moment Yoo Hyun-jin entered the room.
And just as Yoo Hyun-jin found it awkward whenever they ran into each other, other keen-eyed people had started asking, “Did something happen between you two?”
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Not that there had ever been any sort of argument or conflict between them—not even enough interaction for that to happen.
But still.
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“……”
He was right there.
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Close enough that if he reached out, he could touch him.
Slowly, Yoo Hyun-jin pulled his arm out from where it had been buried under the blanket, reaching toward the man’s face.
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He didn’t dare touch him.
But his hand hovered just over his cheek, over his forehead, moving as if tracing the shape of his features.
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The urge to stroke his skin was overwhelming.
But this was just a dream, so it wouldn’t matter if he did, right?
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…Except, the air against his exposed arm was far too sharply cold, far too real.
And then, from outside the window, a rooster crowed in the distance.
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It was still pitch dark outside—it was winter, after all.
But dawn was approaching.
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He needed to get up.
It was time to wake from this dream.
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Still, reluctant to part from it, he lingered just a little longer, drinking in every last detail of the man’s face as he shifted slightly in the blankets—just barely, just the faintest rustle.
And at that very moment—
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The man’s eyes opened.