“Is that for me? Oh, it’s fine. You eat it. I just had some sea bream inside. Do you know sea bream?”
The little guy looked up at Sahyeon with wide, glistening eyes and then tilted his head to one side.
“It’s a bigger fish than this. I ate a bunch of it.”
Then, out of nowhere, it opened its beak wide and dropped the fish with a plop—as if it had just experienced a huge shock.
“…No, now that I look again, this one looks way tastier. A crucian carp, right? A big one.”
“Bbyaa…”
“I want to eat it so badly, but I’m too full. You go ahead and enjoy it instead.”
“Bbyaaak.”
“Oh, that looks delicious.”
“Bbyak.”
“It really does look tasty. Yum, this looks s—ah! You scared me!”
When Sahyeon had come out, that man had been sitting stiffly in the seat of honor, barely moving and just lazily gesturing for him to leave.
So when had he crawled out here?
Sahyeon jumped in surprise to find Dan I-jae now crouched right next to him.
“Well, we’re already speaking bluntly, so why not drop the honorifics too.”
“I was just startled. Baeksonggol tried to give me the fish it hunted, so I was trying to stop it…”
“Hunting, my ass. It just eats whatever the palace officials bring it. This thing’s so dumb, it’s probably never caught a proper animal—except for the ones trapped and raised in human homes.”
“Argh!”
“What? Am I wrong?”
“Aaack!”
Baeksonggol headbutted him in the ribs, and Sahyeon couldn’t hold back anymore—he let out a laugh he’d barely been stifling.
Dan I-jae, clearly annoyed, grabbed Baeksonggol by the scruff and pulled it off.
Baeksonggol, seemingly aware it had done something wrong, squeezed its eyes shut, opened its beak, and let out little chick-like cries—bbyaa bbyaa—while flapping its wings.
Dan I-jae narrowed his eyes at the pathetic display, then placed it back on the floor and firmly pressed its scruff down—as if to say “just eat your fish.”
Watching that, Sahyeon thought… What was it exactly?
Though Dan I-jae always acted serious in front of others, the way he treated Baeksonggol showed a glimpse of his age.
Bickering over silly things, picking fights, joking around… then laughing like this.
Sahyeon was watching their tug-of-war—Baeksonggol struggling to lift its head and Dan I-jae refusing to lose, pushing it down—and suddenly, he had a realization.
‘Wait a minute… doesn’t he treat me like that too?’
He never chatted warmly even with the court officials always around him, but whenever he saw Sahyeon, he’d pick on him, tease him, and give that same long stare before smirking… just like he did with Baeksonggol now.
‘No way, could it be that he…’
Sahyeon swallowed dryly, staring at him.
‘…sees me as something like a pet hawk?’
He wasn’t sure what kind of expression he was making as he looked at Dan I-jae, but—
“What kind of nonsense are you thinking about now, making that face?”
Judging by Dan I-jae’s immediate reaction, it clearly wasn’t a pleasant look.
“What did I even do?”
“Don’t pretend like you weren’t just looking at me like you wanted to eat me alive.”
“Why would I eat you, sir? You just serve delicious sea bream dishes without me lifting a finger.”
Sahyeon pulled the poor Baeksonggol from Dan I-jae’s grip and hugged it.
With a pitiful cry, it buried its head in his chest.
What could he do?
They were both in the same boat.
“By the way, sir, why haven’t you given it a name? Because of that, I still don’t know what it’s called.”
It was the only white hawk flying around the area, so calling it Baeksonggol (white pine hawk) didn’t cause any confusion.
Still, it felt a little pitiful to always be called “this guy” or “that thing.”
Dan I-jae picked up a fallen feather from the floor, spun it on his fingertip, and replied,
“Baeksonggol.”
“…That’s not a name.”
“Why isn’t it? Its surname is Baek, and its name is Songgol. Actually, come to think of it, you share the same surname.”
“Would you like it if I gave you a name like ‘Human’? Just ‘Dan Human’?”
“I don’t really care what I’m called.”
He really shouldn’t say things like that.
Sahyeon wanted to snap back with, ‘Oh, really? Then I’ll just call you Lord Dan Human from now on!’
But since the one who had named Dan I-jae was none other than the King of Pasa, he couldn’t say it out loud.
“If you feel so sorry for it, why don’t you name it?”
Dan I-jae really didn’t seem interested in naming Baeksonggol and just shoved the task onto Sahyeon.
Stroking the bird’s feathers, Sahyeon racked his brain.
A name… what would suit it?
“Well, since it has white feathers, let’s keep the surname Baek…”
“So you have white feathers too, and that’s why you’re Baek?”
“No, my hair turned white later. If hair turning white makes someone a Baek, then everyone becomes a Baek eventually when they age.”
“Maybe this bird’s feathers changed color for a reason too.”
Sahyeon snorted, brushing off the remark.
“Anyway, Baek it is. For the given name… what would be good?”
It seemed to understand human speech well, and ever since they first met, it had helped guide Sahyeon through alleys and paths.
Dan I-jae said it couldn’t hunt, but with food plentiful in the palace, maybe it just didn’t need to.
It didn’t seem incapable, at least—not with that sharp beak and those bright eyes.
So maybe something with Soo (秀), meaning “excellent”…
“Baeksoo?”
“BE?”
The three of them locked eyes awkwardly.
“You don’t like it? Then how about Baekwoo, using the Woo (優) meaning ‘superior’—”
“Baek Literature. You really shouldn’t be naming anything.”
Dan I-jae, for once, gave genuinely heartfelt advice.
“You’re just trying too hard to give it some grand name. This one’s just…”
“HOF!”
“There. ‘Bbi-yaki’ sounds about right.”
“Ppyak!”
“See? It even knows how to say its own name.”
“You told me not to name it, and then you come up with Bbi-yaki? That’s a name for a chick!”
Baeksonggol—no, Bbi-yaki—was a fierce bird capable of catching a full-grown rooster with its sharp talons.
A wimpy name like Bbi-yaki hardly suited it.
“Ppyaa?”
And yet…
Sahyeon looked down at the creature in his arms—no, at Bbi-yaki—who was gazing up at him quietly.
Its head was round and white, its yellow eyes wide and shiny.
Even its beak, curved like a sickle, looked smooth and round to Sahyeon.
And the way it tilted its head like that…
It was actually kind of…
“Bbi, Bbi-yak-ah?”
“Hey!”
It really did look like a Bbi-yaki.*
Sahyeon absentmindedly patted the creature’s head even more enthusiastically.
“Sorry, little one. It’s my fault for asking to name you and ending up with ‘Bbi-yaki.’”
“HOT!”
“This is all your master’s fault, so don’t blame me.”
“Aah.”
“With talent like that for shifting blame onto others, you could head straight to Jeonghanggung Palace.”
“Of course. I’m a born talent.”
Caught between two people unwilling to back down even an inch, the confused Bbi-yaki tilted its head awkwardly—then, slipping out of Sahyeon’s arms, it suddenly snatched the biggest fish and flapped its wings as it flew away.
It landed on top of the pavilion roof and finally began comfortably munching on the fish.
Seeing that, Sahyeon thought, If it had escaped sooner, it wouldn’t have had to suffer the indignity of being named ‘Bbi-yaki’.
“Sir, someone from Sugyeongdang has arrived.”
Only then did Dan I-jae brush off his clothes and stand up.
Since the person had come from Sugyeongdang, proper etiquette was required.
Sahyeon also stood and took a half-step back behind him.
A palace official from Sugyeongdang quickly approached and stopped below the wooden platform, bowing deeply.
Dan I-jae barely acknowledged the greeting, showing no particular response.
He simply frowned slightly and rubbed one of his eyebrows.
“I greet the Eighth Young Master.”
“What is it?”
“The Fifth Young Master has requested your presence along with the head of the archive.”
Fifth Young Master Dan Ye?
Only now?
So suddenly?
They would return to the archive shortly anyway—was it necessary to send someone all the way to Gamcheondang?
Sahyeon instinctively looked at Dan I-jae.
And the moment their eyes met, he regretted it.
Why was he looking for a reaction?
There was no reason for him to care.
Dan I-jae had clearly expressed his intention not to get involved in matters like this.
“We could have just met at the archive.”
“Well…”
It was merely a polite remark, but the official hesitated, as if trying to reply.
For some reason, Sahyeon had a feeling that nothing good would come out of standing there with Dan I-jae, so he quickly cut the conversation short.
“Well then, sir, since today’s class is over, I’ll take my leave now.”
Sahyeon turning his focus away from him and seeking another successor—that was exactly what Dan I-jae wanted, wasn’t it?
So there was no need to check his expression.
Who knows—maybe he was secretly rejoicing.
Just like the white falcon that forgets it’s a beast and fools around in front of its master, Sahyeon felt like he too was forgetting his true nature in front of Dan I-jae.
In the end, to others, he would look unmistakably like a mere bird.
A bird that forgets how to fly is bound to get eaten.
Even if he didn’t yet know where he should go, Sahyeon had no choice but to keep flapping his wings—
Wherever the bait is scattered.
***
When the mother of the Fifth Young Master, Lady Yeongeon, was young, her mother once wrote this in a letter to a friend:
“The child is clever—teach her one thing, and she learns ten. Surely, she will become a talent for the nation. But as her appearance grows more striking by the day, I worry her talents will be overshadowed by her looks.”
Back then, such words would’ve seemed like the overbearing affection of a parent.
But when King Danheul of Pasa chose Yeongeon as a royal consort, the contents of that letter began to circulate among the people.
Hailed as the brightest talent of the prestigious Jin clan, and seen as one of the young bloods who would lead Pasa’s next generation alongside the First Princess, Dan Gyeong, Yeongeon had no choice but to live with her hands tied—as a royal consort forbidden from participating in any government or military affairs.