SNF | Chapter 3.4

Now that he understood most of the situation, this was the part Yeon-oh couldn’t comprehend.

The Hye family had already gained enough glory by supporting the emperor’s rise to the throne. Even now, they enjoyed more prestige than any other noble house. No other jehu family could match their influence. So why insist on entangling themselves in the imperial succession?

“You’re right. Centuries of prosperity do not simply fade away.”

“And yet, under His Majesty’s protection, you would shake the very foundation of the empire? Such chaos would only weaken the empire’s strength. There are other noble families—so why must it be you, Father?”

“Well, the empire will recover soon enough. But yes, for a time, it will be chaotic.”

“You know that, and yet…”

“Yeon-oh.”

The Prime Minister cut him off, calling his name. Then he rose from his seat. As his gaze swept past Yeon-oh, countless emotions stirred within his eyes. Yeon-oh clenched his lips together at the sight.

With his hands clasped behind his back, the Prime Minister turned to the window, where a bonsai plum tree sat on the sill.

“You know that your mother died of postpartum fever after giving birth to you.”

“…How could I not know?”

It felt like he was being strangled. Yeon-oh barely managed to squeeze out a response.

“…Yes.”

“You are the last legacy left behind by your mother.”

“…….”

“A living legacy, one that carries so many traces of her.”

There was longing in the Prime Minister’s voice—so deep it was unfathomable. The sensation of suffocation did not fade. Yeon-oh raised a hand to his throat, rubbing it absentmindedly. There was nothing actually constraining him, yet he still felt bound.

“Even as she drew her last breath, her eyes never left you. And so, I made a promise—to make you happy. She simply smiled… and then closed her eyes.”

The Prime Minister turned to face him. His bloodshot eyes gleamed fiercely. Beneath that gaze, Yeon-oh saw something buried under layers of affection—something deep, heavy, and cloying. It stabbed into him like a blade.

“Yeon-oh. I will keep that promise. For your happiness, I will grant you a perfect family.”

The Prime Minister strode toward him, gripping Yeon-oh’s shoulders tightly. Though widely respected as a scholar, he had never neglected martial training, and Yeon-oh could feel the force of his grip pressing into his bones, threatening to shatter them.

“A flawless, impeccable family!”

“…….”

“Tell me, wouldn’t it be better to have a Hye family bloodline ascend the throne rather than some other noble’s?”

His grip loosened, his voice dropping to a whisper. Yeon-oh reached up, rubbing his aching shoulder, then slowly rose from his seat.

“…If that is the will of the family, I will follow it. However—”

Yeon-oh pressed his lips together.

“However?”

The Prime Minister prompted him for the rest. Yeon-oh swallowed back his breath, swallowed back his thoughts.

“No… it’s nothing.”

Don’t say that this is for me. The words clawed at his throat, desperate to be spoken, but he forced them down. The Prime Minister raised a brow but didn’t press for an answer.

“Well, in any case, I am pleased as your father that you have chosen to follow the family’s will.”

The storm of emotions that had just erupted from him was now completely reined in. Not even the slightest trace remained on his face. Instead, it was filled—just as it always was—with an overwhelming, unwavering affection. That, more than anything, suffocated Yeon-oh.

“But Yeon-oh.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“You are no longer a child who must simply follow the family’s will. You are the heir who must now lead it. That is why I gave you the time to choose.”

It was a reprimand. A warning. Yeon-oh had lingered too long, caught up in political reasonings, hesitating over the Crown Prince’s precarious position instead of making a decisive move. It was also a verdict—an unspoken declaration that there was no escape from the family.

“…I will keep that in mind.”

“Good. I will send word to the Empress to arrange a meeting with the Prince. It would be best to meet before Chunjul. Once the festival passes, you will officially be his mentor, so it is only proper that you first meet as uncle and nephew.”

“Understood.”

“The Prince is young and may not yet have the wisdom he needs. Watch over him. Guide him properly.”

“I will do so.”

“Good, good.”

“It is getting late. If you would permit, I shall take my leave now.”

The lingering scent of plum blossoms clouded his mind. He could no longer bear to stay in this room. As Yeon-oh requested to withdraw, the Prime Minister waved a hand dismissively in approval. With a precise, disciplined bow, Yeon-oh rose without hesitation.

“Yeon-oh.”

His father suddenly called his name.

“Yes, Father.”

“Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint your mother.”

The words struck like a tremor through his world. But Yeon-oh stood firm, his back straight, his posture unwavering. Though his face was pale, it was like iron-clad armor—without a single crack.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Instead of returning to his residence, Yeon-oh dismissed the servants who had been following him and headed toward the stables.

A stable hand who had been brushing a horse’s mane recognized him and quickly rushed over, bowing deeply.

“I will be going out.”

“At this late hour, Young Master?”

It was practically unheard of for a young master who had not yet completed his gwanrye¹ ceremony to leave the family estate at such a late hour. Moreover, Yeon-oh had neither the inclination nor the talent for martial arts—he could barely defend himself. To request a carriage alone at this hour was, from the coachman’s perspective, a troubling matter.

“You don’t need me to repeat myself, do you?”

But right now, Yeon-oh didn’t have even a sliver of patience left to consider the coachman’s concerns. It was already taking all his energy just to hold himself together. Sensing that Yeon-oh’s mood was anything but ordinary, the coachman hesitated but eventually prepared the carriage. Without a moment’s hesitation, Yeon-oh climbed aboard.

“Where shall I take you?”

“…….”

“Young Master?”

“…Sowan Inn. Take me there.”

The meeting with the Prime Minister had taken longer than expected; the evening bell signaling sul hour had long since passed. He knew he would be late. He knew this, and yet, he still gave the name of the place where Yeshin had told him to meet.

Upon hearing his destination, the coachman closed the carriage door. Soon, the carriage began to move. Only then did Yeon-oh allow himself to relax, taking a slow, steady breath.

He pressed his cold hands against his eyes, trying to calm the lingering storm of emotions. Somewhere inside him, there was a vast emptiness—an aching hollowness. But he couldn’t pinpoint its exact cause. Was it his father, the Prime Minister, who had invoked his deceased mother to tighten the reins and bring Yeon-oh completely under his control? Or was it something else—had his father’s emotions somehow seeped into him?

As he quietly examined his own emotions, the unsteady rhythm of his breathing gradually settled. His expression smoothed over, his face calming into a composed stillness.

At some point, the carriage began to slow down. A few moments later, the sound of a horse’s whinny filled the air before the carriage came to a complete stop. Yeon-oh adjusted his slightly disheveled clothes.

“You have arrived, Young Master.”

“Alright.”

As soon as Yeon-oh responded, the coachman opened the door.

“Wait here until I return.”

He knew he was already late, but there was still a chance Yeshin might be there. Even if it was only for a brief moment, he wanted to see him.

Upon hearing that Yeon-oh intended to go alone, the coachman paled and frantically waved his hands in protest.

“Young Master, it is far too late! You must not go alone! If His Excellency finds out, there will be severe consequences.”

“I have company.”

Yeon-oh had no trust in the coachman. As long as he had eyes to see, ears to hear, and a mouth to report, he would undoubtedly inform the Prime Minister of everything that transpired tonight. Surveillance within his residence was already suffocating—he had no intention of letting it extend beyond its walls.

“Even so, I cannot allow it. If I have made you uncomfortable, I will be careful and follow at a distance.”

The coachman didn’t back down even a single step. Even though it was Yeon-oh’s order, the mere fact that he was acting like this filled him with unease. And yet, to let him go off alone in the dead of night without even a single escort? There was no way the coachman could just stand by and let that happen.

“Even if it’s an order?”

“I cannot allow it.”

Faced with such unyielding stubbornness, as if even a needle wouldn’t be able to pierce through, Yeon-oh frowned.

“This is troublesome.”

As he was debating what to do, a crisp, cold scent of winter drifted from behind him.

“You’re speaking so seriously—it almost makes it seem like I’m some kind of ruffian threatening the young master’s safety.”

It was a scent that felt both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

“…Who’s there?”

The coachman tensed at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, his wariness evident in his stiffened expression. He looked ready to slam the carriage door shut and depart at any moment.

“I’ll guarantee the young master’s safety.”

“I asked who you are—”

“I’m his companion. Is that the answer you wanted?”

Leaning at a slight angle, as if he were some street rogue, Yeshin shot Yeon-oh a wink before responding to the coachman. Just how long had he been listening in on the conversation? Or had he been waiting there the whole time? Yeon-oh was curious, but it wasn’t something he absolutely needed an answer to, so he pushed the question aside.

The coachman looked between Yeon-oh and Yeshin, as if trying to determine the truth. When he saw no objection on Yeon-oh’s face, he seemed to realize that Yeshin was indeed accompanying him. But even then, he showed no sign of stepping aside. If anything were to happen to Yeon-oh tonight, it would be the coachman who bore the blame. His reaction was understandable.

“I beg your pardon, but I must accompany you as well.”

“Even though I can personally guarantee his safety?”

“Even so, I cannot allow it. Young Master.”

With the same rigid expression, the coachman firmly repeated his refusal. Yeshin, watching this display, curled his lips into a smirk and stepped closer.

The coachman instinctively took half a step back, but he barely managed to stop himself and planted his feet firmly on the ground, lowering his gaze.

Yeon-oh, seated inside the carriage, simply observed.

“That’s not your decision to make.”

“……”

“It’s mine.”

The coachman had only blinked. That was all. Yet in that fleeting instant, his body collapsed.

For Yeon-oh, it was as if the whole thing had been nothing more than a hazy dream. By the time he blinked again, Yeshin was already catching the coachman’s falling body and placing him in the seat across from Yeon-oh.

After finishing that task, he extended a hand toward Yeon-oh. His smirking lips remained exactly the same as before.

Yeon-oh pressed his lips together and looked at Yeshin.

“I only knocked him out for a little while since the conversation was getting too long. Did that startle you?”

Unfamiliar.

Even though they had exchanged letters for some time, enough for Yeon-oh to think he’d grasped a little of Yeshin’s character, right now, the man felt like a stranger. His sharp gaze remained filled with wary tension.

“At the shortest, he’ll wake in about one hour. At most, two.”

“……”

“In the meantime, I will ensure your safe arrival, Young Master.”

Yeshin still hadn’t withdrawn his outstretched hand. Was it really okay to trust this unfamiliar man? Yeon-oh swallowed dryly and looked into his eyes.

Beyond those long, dark lashes, his irises glowed black as ink. There was no emotion in them. No longing, no hatred. Not even affection. They were exactly the eyes he had always wished to see.

“…I do not wish for any confusion.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yeon-oh placed his hand atop Yeshin’s.

“Neither do I, Young Master.”

The warmth of their touching hands was so foreign that Yeon-oh wanted to pull away immediately. But instead, he faintly curled his lips into a smile.