The king is the one who stands at the pinnacle of this nation.
That person can only have a single purpose.
But as for what personal desires or political will the Daegyeongseung* holds, Sahyeon did not know.
He only wrote down his thoughts, hoping they would align.
Maybe it was because his mind had settled to some extent.
Or maybe the ink had been ground just right.
The words that had been blocked for so long began to flow effortlessly, and before he knew it, a full bamboo scroll was complete.
“Time…”
He had been so absorbed in his focus that he didn’t even know how much time had passed.
Even if he had dashed it off in one go, writing a full scroll must’ve taken at least a couple of sijin.
That’s what he assumed.
Sahyeon couldn’t hide his surprise and looked across from him.
Dan Ijae, who had been resting his chin on his hand and quietly watching Sahyeon, smiled gently the moment their eyes met.
It seemed he had simply been grinding ink and watching Sahyeon write all that time.
“You should have said something.”
Sahyeon grumbled out of guilt as he set down his brush.
“Said what?”
“That time’s gotten too late, may I leave now, how long are you going to keep writing—things like that.
You’re usually quick to nitpick, but in times like this…”
Dan Ijae’s pupils wavered slightly.
“Time?”
He looked around as if he truly didn’t understand what Sahyeon meant, then opened the narrow window.
Through the lattice, the sky was stained red.
It seemed even more time had passed than Sahyeon had guessed.
“…It’s evening.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t notice the time because I was writing for the first time in a while.”
“No need to apologize. You were doing your work, and I was doing mine.”
He gestured toward the ink he had diligently ground as he said “my work”—was he trying to take credit?
“So you really were just grinding ink all that time?”
“On and off.”
“The rest of the time…?”
Dan Ijae pointed, one by one, with his long fingers—at Sahyeon’s face and the scroll packed with characters.
“Watching.”
The absurd answer made Sahyeon chuckle.
Turning his head while twitching his lips, he was once again “watched” by Dan Ijae with a curious expression.
“Gongja**, may I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
Was it because of the sunset?
Dan Ijae’s eyes were tinged with the colors of a twilight sea.
Sahyeon took a deep breath and looked straight up at him.
“Why are you suddenly being kind to me?”
The archive, once filled with the rich scents of wood and ink, now held a hint of burning and a cold winter breeze.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“You cursed at me and snapped at me, and now you’re saying that?”
“That is you being kind. A mere 5th-rank official dared to curse at a prince of the royal family, and nothing happened.”
“Well, lucky you.”
As he just snorted in response, Sahyeon pressed again.
“I’m curious why someone who clearly wanted me gone suddenly changed his mind.
Of course, I know that… that day, you helped me out of pity, but to go this far…”
“This far?”
Dan Ijae slowly circled the desk and approached Sahyeon.
He didn’t look angry, nor did he make any threatening gestures—but Sahyeon couldn’t help but feel tense.
He braced his legs to avoid stepping back and clenched his sleeves tightly.
Stopping just close enough that their toes nearly touched, Dan Ijae bent down to meet Sahyeon’s eyes.
“What exactly have I done?”
A face smiling playfully, as if to tease.
Cold sweat beaded on Sahyeon’s clenched hands.
What was he afraid of?
That Dan Ijae might go back to being cold?
That he’d trick him into quitting his studies?
Or maybe… being so close, that on impulse…
“Ah, is this what you mean?”
His hand approached again.
His warmth touched Sahyeon’s cool cheek.
From the outer edge of his ear down the slender jawline, his large hand completely covered one cheek.
Through the half-covered ear, a pulsing thrum passed from Dan Ijae’s fingertips.
Was that the sound of Sahyeon’s heart, or the blood pulsing through Dan Ijae’s wrist?
Sahyeon bit his trembling lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut.
Looking back, it was almost funny—how he could remain composed even in front of someone who held his life in their hands, yet now, he was speechless in front of someone who clearly meant no harm.
He thought he was tense, but maybe…
Maybe he was too relaxed.
He swallowed dryly.
His throat bobbed more than usual.
Sahyeon steadied himself once more and lifted his eyelids.
No matter what he does—don’t be flustered.
Just like when he lied so calmly before Chaegong***, like when he made bold arguments before the king.
“Hmph.”
But then, Dan Ijae’s eyes were suddenly right in front of his—startlingly close.
A deep blue glow that seemed ready to engulf him at any moment.
His stomach…
“Is it unpleasant, that I touch you like this?”
A low whisper brushed his ear.
Like a man on a rocking ship, Sahyeon’s stomach churned too much for him to even open his lips.
Was it unpleasant?
No, not quite unpleasant—more like something felt wrong, like his breath was being choked…
SCREEEECH!
If the piercing cry of a hawk hadn’t split through his ears just then, he might’ve made a serious mistake.
How remarkable that this bird always seemed to show up just when Sahyeon was in trouble.
Sahyeon respectfully pushed Dan Ijae’s hand off his cheek.
Dan Ijae also silently withdrew his hand.
And the two of them turned to look at the white goshawk, which had somehow managed to wedge its head through the narrow window and was flapping about.
“…I’m going crazy.”
Clicking his tongue, Dan Ijae walked over to the window.
Without hesitation, he firmly pushed the goshawk’s head back outside, its yellow eyes wide.
Screee!
Squawk!
“Out.”
Squawk!
“What did I say would happen if you bit me again?”
Screech…
“Right, so get out.”
Squawk!
“Damn it…”
…It looked like Dan Ijae’s hand was halfway inside the bird’s beak.
Fortunately, the bird didn’t bite his hand off.
He only ended up with a small scratch on the back of his hand.
Only after injuring his master did the white goshawk finally close its beak quietly.
Then it turned its head and leapt out the window.
Dan Ijae shut the window with irritation.
“Are you all right?”
Sahyeon pressed down the corners of her lips, trying not to smile, and barely managed to ask after his well-being.
Maybe it was because the library had darkened again, but the nausea had mostly settled.
Dan Ijae turned to look at Sahyeon without easing the furrow between his brows.
“If it felt rude, I apologize.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”
Instead of answering, he made a gesture of pinching something tightly between his thumb and forefinger.
Sahyeon, without realizing it, reached up and touched her own cheek.
It had been a rude act.
Even when he’d first entered the household of the Royal Scholar, it had felt unpleasant when her seniors did something like that.
But was he so offended that he needed an apology?
Not really.
Was it because the other party was a “prince of the royal family”?
Or was it because Sahyeon had immediately repaid the rudeness with rude words of her own?
“Please don’t apologize.”
“Why not?”
“Well, if Your Grace starts apologizing, I’ll have to apologize every time I speak rudely to you, won’t I?”
“I take it you have no intention of stopping that rude talk, then.”
“Please try raising a child who takes after you someday, Your Grace. You’ll understand deep in your bones why I behave this way.”
“I have no intention of having children.”
“Why not…?”
He started to ask reflexively but closed her mouth.
Right—maybe he had… complications from fooling around too much—
“No, never mind. That could be the case.”
“…But why that face? Did you actually understand what I said?”
Why did he have to pry so uncomfortably?
Sahyeon quickly changed the subject.
“There’s no rule that says you can only teach people. Even the white pine wolf looks just like you, Your Grace.”
“You even manage to insult me in such a roundabout way. Impressive.”
Sahyeon gratefully accepted that as a compliment and smiled proudly.
Then, just as Dan Ijae was about to head toward the door to leave the library, he subtly stepped in front of him.
“You need to answer me, Your Grace. Why are you suddenly being so kind to me?”
He had to get a clear answer.
Only then could he decide how to respond to him.
But part of her was nervous—what if the answer he was expecting actually came out of his mouth?
Should he nip those feelings in the bud?
Or should he make use of them?
Dan Ijae raised his hand again.
Thinking he might touch her cheek once more, he instinctively took half a step back.
But this time, he only extended his index finger and pointed at the space between her brows.
Sahyeon looked uncomfortably at the finger and carefully pressed it down with both her hands.
Dan Ijae let out a small laugh.
“Right. You said you wanted to guide the direction of a statesman’s hand.”
Startled by his words, Sahyeon quickly withdrew his hands.
So, just as he thought, he did want to become a statesman?
Was he trying to win the king’s favor using her, just like the Grand Duke Taijeong had?
“You said I’d have to study the Confucian classics to help you do that. So I got curious—whether your absurd idea could actually come true. I only need to memorize a few Confucian quotes to see how it goes, so why not?”
…So he only saw this as a curious little spectacle.
Come to think of it, the way he messed around and even barked without reason but just laughed it off… maybe he saw her like a pet puppy.
“So you’re just hoping to see me fail miserably?”
“I’d rather see you succeed, if possible.”
“You don’t mean that…”
“If your goal is to steer a statesman’s will in the right direction, then it would be better if you succeeded. That way, even a pine caterpillar like me can live in peace, chewing on pine needles without worry.”
Having said all he wanted to say, Dan Ijae brushed past Sahyeon.