SNF | Chapter 2.4

Took our mother. Yeon-oh couldn’t agree with those words. He had never taken their mother away. He had simply been born, gripping a fragile umbilical cord. As a child, he might have shrunk back in guilt when Hye Yeonseo blamed him for taking their mother from her. But now that he was grown, he felt no such weight. No emotion had the power to crush him anymore.

“So, you really have grown up.”

“……”

“When you were younger, you never knew where to look. Or have you just become shameless with age?”

When Yeon-oh didn’t react, Hye Yeonseo’s words sharpened, like thorns sprouting along a rose’s stem, reaching out to wound him.

“I suppose I have. In both body and mind.”

“You claim to have matured in thought as well? Tell me, in what way?”

“I’ve grown enough to realize that your malice is unjustified.”

Hye Yeonseo’s hand trembled violently. Yeon-oh watched, indifferent.

“My malice… is unjustified?”

“It was Mother’s decision to give birth to me. I never asked to be born.”

“What did you just say?”

“Am I wrong? Did I ever have a say in my own birth?”

With each word, Hye Yeonseo’s face darkened, her skin flushing with anger. She looked ready to scream, but if she did, her voice would carry beyond the room. The servants would hear. They would talk. And she would never allow that.

“You’ve become… insufferably arrogant.”

“And you, dear sister, have become foolish.”

She had wanted to wound him, but this time, she had failed. She was no longer a worthy opponent.

“…What did you say?”

“Who do you think I am?” Yeon-oh’s voice was calm, but it held the weight of unshakable authority. “Your younger brother? Of course, I am. But more importantly, we are both tied to the Hye family. And the one who will inherit Hye… is none other than me. Yet you speak to me with such disrespect.”

He smiled deliberately and took a sip of his tea. It had cooled just enough to be pleasant, sliding smoothly down his throat. Hye Yeonseo’s face turned crimson as her body trembled uncontrollably. Watching her, he spoke again, his tone almost lazy.

“Behave as befits the daughter of Hye. Just as I will conduct myself as its rightful heir.”

“Hye Yeon-oh, you—!”

“This means I will not tolerate a second offense.” Yeon-oh set down his emptied cup. “I’m sure you understand, but just in case, I thought I’d repeat myself.”

Rising to his feet, he dusted off his robe. Hye Yeonseo bit her lip, glaring at him.

“It wouldn’t be good for the child in your womb if you got too agitated. I’ll take my leave now. I should see you again when Father and my brother-in-law return.”

“……You—”

She had been holding back for the sake of appearances, but just as Yeon-oh was about to turn away, she parted her lips again. Her expression was eerily void of emotion. The flush of anger on her face had vanished entirely.

“You—what makes you so confident?”

“……”

“Ah, is it because you’re the precious heir of the Marquis of Hanam? Or do you think Father truly loves you? No, perhaps you believe the Empress cherishes you?”

“……”

“No, you’re wrong. No one loves you.”

After spitting out her venomous words, she paused, inhaling sharply, as if gathering strength for a final blow.

“No one loved you before. No one loves you now. And no one ever will.”

Yeon-oh regarded her impassively. She had wanted him to flinch, to recoil in pain. After all, as a child, he had always crumbled when she hurled cruel words about how he would never be loved. Back then, he had been unable to bear it. He had cried.

But Yeon-oh no longer expected love. And he no longer wanted it.

“I know.”

Instead of despair or anger, Yeon-oh responded with acceptance—and a smile.

“And since it seems you’ve already forgotten my warning, I’ll remind you one last time. I truly have no intention of overlooking or ignoring your disrespect any longer.”

His tone was kind, almost gentle, as if offering a final courtesy. Then, without hesitation, he stepped back. As his shadow wavered, the door opened. Yeon-oh turned to look at Hye Yeonseo one last time, smiling at her before stepping beyond the threshold. The door closed behind him. Through the narrowing gap, he caught a glimpse of her twisted expression before it disappeared.

Stepping away, Yeon-oh nearly let out a sigh from the exhaustion weighing on him, but he suppressed it. Too many eyes were still on him. Instead, he maintained the faint smile lingering on his lips as he glanced at the nanny.

“My sister looked tired, so I left early.”

“She’s nearing her due date. As the time approaches, women tend to grow weary and more sensitive.”

“I see. Still, she looked healthy, which is reassuring.”

“Indeed, that is fortunate. She must have a safe delivery.”

Yeon-oh exchanged words that painted the picture of a cordial sibling relationship—at least for those watching. Then, he retraced his steps, walking back the way he came. His breath felt stifled, but he clenched his fists and swallowed down every emotion.

He had met Hye Yeonseo’s hostility with composure, had told himself that it didn’t matter. But that didn’t mean he was truly unaffected. Somewhere, deep in the corner of his heart, a tiny scratch had been left—just as she had wanted. Small enough to be almost imperceptible, but sharp enough to sting if touched.

“Now that I think about it, I didn’t prepare a gift for my nephew.”

“Shall I send someone to the workshop?”

“No, I want to choose something myself, even if it’s nothing special. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to take a stroll through the Capital City while I’m at it.”

“Shall I make preparations for your outing?”

“Yes.”

No matter how much Yeon-oh pretended to be unaffected, he couldn’t deceive the nanny’s keen eyes. She had always known that he disliked meeting Hye Yeonseo, and having spent so many years by his side, she could sense even the emotions he tried to hide. Perhaps that was why, despite his flimsy excuse, she didn’t try to stop him from going out.

With Yeon-oh’s approval, the nanny ordered Hasung to prepare a carriage. Hasung left to make the arrangements, and Yeon-oh, too, began walking toward the inner gate.

—

Of course, he had no intention of picking just anything from a roadside stall as a gift. That was merely an excuse. Still, as if indulging in idle curiosity, he let his gaze sweep across the market stalls.

When Yeon-oh stepped down from the carriage and merged into the crowd, Hasung, struggling with his duty as a bodyguard, urged him to return.

“My lord, would you not prefer to board the carriage? This is not an ideal place for you to be.”

Yeon-oh ignored him.

“Hasung, what do you think of this?”

“……It does not seem suitable as a gift for the young master yet to be born.”

Yeon-oh had picked up a cheap trinket from a stall and held it up for inspection. Hasung, his expression stiff, answered reluctantly.

“So you do have an eye for these things. If I gave this to my sister, she’d throw it away immediately.”

Of course, no matter how rare and valuable the gift, she would discard it just the same. That part, he kept to himself.

For a brief moment, he considered choosing something deliberately annoying—something that would grate on her nerves—but abandoned the thought just as quickly. He had no real motivation for such pettiness.

Tearing his gaze away from the stall, Yeon-oh leisurely observed the bustling main street. With the Spring Festival approaching, the streets were packed. Having never stepped into such a lively crowd before, Yeon-oh found the sight both fascinating and unpleasant. The constant brushes and bumps against his shoulders were not something he could easily grow accustomed to.

Thankfully, his gold-embroidered robe marked him as nobility, prompting passersby to instinctively shrink away from him. Had it been otherwise, he didn’t even want to imagine the discomfort.

“My lord, perhaps you should return to the carriage. The festival draws near, and the crowds will only grow thicker.”

“I feel like walking.”

“Then shall I lead you through a quieter path?”

“No need.”

Yeon-oh’s tone was firm. His frail body, unaccustomed to such an environment, was already signaling exhaustion, but he ignored it.

“…In that case, I will clear the way for you. That would be best.”

Realizing there was no changing his mind, Hasung sighed in resignation and took the lead. As he cut a path through the crowd, it became easier for Yeon-oh to walk, and his pale complexion regained a bit of color.

“You’re quite skilled at this,” Yeon-oh remarked.

“You flatter me, my lord.”

At the unexpected compliment, Hasung’s face reddened. He scratched his head awkwardly, looking more like a boy than a trained guard. Amused, Yeon-oh watched him for a moment.

“My lord…” Hasung hesitated.

“What is it?”

“No, never mind…”

Gu Hasung must have sensed the blatant stare, as he called out to Yeon-oh. But when Yeon-oh shamelessly dodged the question, Hasung eventually gave up on asking and simply continued clearing the path forward.

Walking along the road as Hasung led the way, Yeon-oh took in the bustling street stalls, gradually feeling some of the suffocation inside him ease. That stifling sensation had carried resentment, anger, sorrow, and injustice—but now, those emotions were beginning to fade.

“…You?”

Just as he was about to say they should return to the carriage now that he felt somewhat better, a firm grip wrapped around his wrist. Ah. The unfamiliar pressure made Yeon-oh let out a short breath. Noticing it, Hasung immediately raised his sword toward the one holding Yeon-oh’s wrist.

“Could it be… Hye Yeon-oh?”

The sudden flash of steel startled the nearby crowd, causing people to scream and scramble away from the scene.

“Who are you?”

Judging from the fact that this person knew his name, it seemed like he knew Yeon-oh—but Yeon-oh had no recollection of him. Even as he asked in a cold voice, he neither denied nor affirmed his identity. Taking that as confirmation, the man smirked.

Despite the blade threatening his throat, he showed no sign of fear.

“I did hear you were coming to Yeonggyeong¹, but I never expected to run into you in a place like this.”

“You know me?”

The longer this strange situation stretched on—where the man clearly knew him, yet Yeon-oh had no idea who he was—the more irritated Yeon-oh became. He scowled and jerked his wrist free. The man let go without resistance.

“Well, if I keep holding onto the wrist of the precious young master, my own neck might be on the line. I’d rather let go.”

“……”

“Now that I’ve let go, would you mind lowering that sword at my throat? Hmm?”

“Hasung, lower your sword.”

“But—”

“Lower it, but don’t sheathe it.”

That was permission to raise it again at a moment’s notice. The man seemed to understand the implication and let out a low whistle.

“I don’t want to ask who you are again.”