You Can't Just Take Someone Else's Home
The night deepened.
The palace lights had mostly gone out, leaving only a few candles burning. The corridors were dark except for the paths most frequently used. Even the king's bedchamber, usually ablaze with brilliance, lay in shadow.
"The High Priest has arrived."
"Good. Let him in."
The Chamberlain bowed silently. A fresh candlestick rested in his hands—he intended to add more light for the High Priest. Ordinarily, another servant would handle such tasks, but tonight everyone else had been dismissed. Only the Chamberlain and the Lomon King remained in the room.
"Leave the lights as they are. No need to brighten the room."
"Understood."
The Chamberlain bowed once more and withdrew to the edge of the chamber. Moments later, the door opened quietly and the High Priest entered. His beautiful face emerged from the darkness. The king was suddenly reminded of the past.
When the boy was born, it had been quite troublesome. After summoning a dancer for a banquet, the king had taken her to bed without a second thought. Though the child was born within the palace, the mother's lowly status as a dancer had enraged the queen. She tolerated the king's affairs with other women so long as they caused no major scandal, and she usually handled matters concerning the resulting children—raising those of royal blood as royalty and placing others with suitable noble houses. But a child born of a dancer carrying the king's blood had been utterly unacceptable to her. The queen had always been obsessed with nobility and status.
Even so, the king could not simply abandon an infant who carried royal blood. In the end, the newborn had been entrusted to the temple in the form of an offering to the gods. Negotiations had gone smoothly, as the temple had been seeking to place a member of the royal family among its ranks at the time.
Back then, I thought it was the best solution.
As the years passed and the child grew more beautiful, the king had begun to feel it was a waste. With such looks, the boy could have been used elsewhere rather than hidden away in the temple. Even the queen had seemed to harbor some regret. Well, becoming High Priest is achievement enough in itself.
When the High Priest approached, the Lomon King pushed the idle thoughts aside. This was not the time for reminiscing.
"Come here."
He stopped the High Priest from kneeling and beckoned him closer with a hand.
"It's only the two of us. There's no need for such formalities."
The High Priest inclined his head slightly and stepped toward the table beside the bed. The moment he sat down, the Lomon King spoke, his impatience clear.
"Have you discovered anything about the Saintess's abilities?"
"My apologies. Thus far, all we have confirmed is that it appears to be a form of charm…"
The king clicked his tongue without realizing it. Several men around the Saintess had already fallen in love with her. That in itself was not a problem—they had been placed there for that very purpose, and if surrounding her with men would keep her in the kingdom, the king would not have minded ten or even twenty. The real issue was that Prince Alf had become one of them.
At first, the king had suspected the prince was only pretending, but repeated conversations had made the truth undeniable. The prince had genuinely fallen in love and was now begging to marry the Saintess. To an outsider, it might seem natural for a young man, but the king, who knew his son well, immediately sensed something was wrong. He already knew the nature of the Saintess's power.
"I thought it only charmed spirits."
Deep wrinkles formed on the Lomon King's brow. The ability itself had already been verified. After her summoning, spirits had gradually gathered around the Saintess, proving her claim was no lie. But to think it could charm humans as well—this was truly troublesome. At least not everyone was affected, which was some small mercy. The Saintess clung to the High Priest as well, yet he remained unaffected. Perhaps her charm did not work on priests.
If the High Priest were to fall under her spell…
The thought was so horrifying that the king shook his head vigorously.
"Continue your investigation into the Saintess. Monitor the spirits' condition and report any changes periodically."
"Understood."
Though no one else was present, the Lomon King glanced around before lowering his voice.
"Have you silenced the priests who discovered the Sprout?"
"Of course. They have been confined deep within the temple under the pretext of investigating the Sprout, and access has been restricted."
The High Priest's voice dropped as well.
"All priests involved have been isolated separately, so you need not worry."
"Good."
The tension eased slightly from the Lomon King's body. News of the Sprout's appearance had been followed immediately by reports that it had vanished without a trace. Unable to believe it, he had dispatched investigators, only to find clear evidence that the Sprout had been torn away. This could not be made public. Doing so might raise suspicions that the Saintess was a fake. The Spirit Tree was tied to the fate of the entire world; mishandling this could spark war with other nations. In the worst case, they might unite against Lomon. The kingdom's survival hung in the balance.
"Who on earth…"
Who could be so cruel as to tear away the Sprout of the Spirit Tree? The king's head throbbed as he pressed a hand to his forehead. Lately, even thinking about it brought on the pain.
"Your Majesty, are you all right?"
The High Priest asked anxiously.
"Yes, I'm fine."
Even after the king's reassurance, worry lingered on the High Priest's face. He glanced at the Chamberlain, his eyes silently asking whether a physician should be summoned. The Chamberlain gave a slight nod, signaling that it was unnecessary. This was a common occurrence, and the Chamberlain was accustomed to it. He had likely already prepared the usual medicine. Still concerned, the High Priest continued to study the king's face.
"Your Majesty."
"It's all right. This happens all the time."
The Lomon King lightly patted the back of the High Priest's hand. The boy who had been sent to the temple as an infant cared nothing for romance, status, or luxury—perhaps because he had been raised by priests. Though he now navigated politics with skill, he had once been an innocent child. Winning such a child's heart had been easy. Especially when that child was his own son.
The High Priest had come to love his biological father, the king, far more deeply than the priests who had raised him. He yearned for paternal affection to an almost pitiable degree. The Lomon King looked at him and issued another warning.
"Until this matter is resolved, you must not release any of the involved priests."
Fearing they might make a mistake, the king spoke firmly. The High Priest bowed his head slightly.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Noticing a flicker of guilt toward the priests on the High Priest's face, the king took his hand.
"I'm glad I have you, my son."
The High Priest's head snapped up, visibly startled. Those who entered the temple formally severed all ties with their blood relatives. They did not call their fathers "father" or their sons "son." The moment one became a priest, they became a child of the gods. The Lomon King had never once referred to him as his son until now. But this was a critical time to secure the High Priest's loyalty. The king smiled gently.
"It's fine when no one else can hear. No matter what anyone says, you are my blood."
"…"
Seeing moisture gather in the High Priest's eyes, the king squeezed his hand.
"Perhaps I'm growing sentimental in my old age. Won't you call me 'Father' just once?"
The High Priest blinked several times before his lips parted.
"…Father."
Tears streamed down the High Priest's cheeks. The Lomon King chuckled softly as the High Priest bowed his head to hide them.
A curtain had been set up inside the village hall for the women to change clothes. Without private rooms, the women had been inconvenienced, but this was the best solution available. The two brides slept with the children. Not only at night—the children faithfully followed Jinwoo's instructions and never left the brides' sides. The village men's attention was entirely focused on the brides; they would call out to them while working the fields or offer the children bribes in hopes of gaining favor. Just like the scene unfolding before him now.
"Hey, kids, put in a good word for me with the brides, will you? I really need a bride."
Geob-bo was pleading with the children while offering them pieces of meat—using his own allotted share as a bribe. The children accepted the meat one by one, but Ji-geu only drooled and refused to take any.
"Ji-geu, you too."
"I have to talk about my dad."
"I'm not saying you shouldn't. Just praise me a little. You know me best, Ji-geu. I'm a pretty great guy, right?"
"Well, that's true, but…"
Geob-bo's efforts were almost heartbreaking.
"Have you decided which bride you like?"
When Jinwoo asked, Geob-bo blinked, then smiled brightly.
"Either one is fine. As long as one of them chooses me as her husband. Really, I'm okay with anyone. I just need one of them to pick me."
No, that was exactly the problem. Jinwoo sighed inwardly. Many men were trying to appeal to the brides. The women looked troubled or blushed each time, but strangely, they always smiled when Geob-bo approached. For a moment, Jinwoo had wondered if Geob-bo actually stood a chance. But hearing him now, it was clear the brides' smiles weren't hopeful—they simply didn't see him as a man.
"At least focus on the one you like a little more. That might give you a slim chance."
Geob-bo scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"But they're both nice…"
"…"
At this rate, he might never get married.
"Well, this won't be your only chance, so just do your best."
"Yes, Village Chief!"
Listening to Geob-bo's loud reply, Jinwoo turned away. When he had asked about the contract, he learned that sending only men had led to too many runaways, so they had started sending brides instead. More would continue to arrive in the future—at least for the next few years. The men seemed relieved to hear that. Knowing there would be another opportunity gave them some breathing room. Jinwoo felt relieved too. If no more brides came after these two, there might have been riots.
Once the harvest comes in and things improve, I should probably send some men to the city for matchmaking.
He wasn't sure if anyone would come all the way out here, but the merchants had offered to act as matchmakers, so he could ask them.
Mulling over these thoughts, Jinwoo headed to the fields, where something else was happening.
"Peep! Peep-peep, peep-peep-peep-peep!"
Popcorn was pleading with the Sprout about something. Scattered twigs lay in front of the Sprout, and beside them sat what looked like a bird's nest. No—it was a real bird's nest. Next to it was an incomplete, clumsily made nest. Perhaps Popcorn had tried to copy it.
"You little rascal, where did you get that nest? You can't just steal someone else's home like that."
Jinwoo remembered reading somewhere that male birds build nests to invite females. The original owner of this nest must have been rejected by now. He felt sorry for the poor male bird, wherever it was.
"Peep… peep-peep-peep…"
At Jinwoo's words, Popcorn stretched out both arms with a pitiful expression. It pointed back and forth between the real nest, its own failed attempt, and the Sprout. Jinwoo didn't understand what it was trying to say, but he could tell Popcorn was deeply dejected. It seemed to be in a difficult situation. Though how difficult could a spirit's troubles really be?
Still, seeing it act so pitiful made it hard to scold. With a sigh, Jinwoo held out his hand.
"Come here."
"Peep."
Popcorn flew over listlessly. Usually, this would cheer it up immediately, but this time it seemed genuinely depressed. Whatever had happened must have been a serious crisis in its eyes.
"I can't teach you how to build a nest, but I can tell you one thing."
Jinwoo placed Popcorn on his palm and looked at it steadily.
"There's a saying from where I used to live: even if the sky falls, there's always a way out. So no matter how difficult your situation is, if you keep your wits about you and keep trying until the very end, you'll find a way."
"Peep…?"
Popcorn tilted its head. Well, it probably didn't understand anyway, so his words were pointless. Jinwoo wasn't even sure if the advice fit the situation. Making a nest had nothing to do with the sky falling, after all. It was probably just sulking because something hadn't gone well while playing.
"Peep!"
But Popcorn's spirits seemed to lift. Jinwoo didn't know why, but it raised its hand energetically. At least it had perked up.
"And don't go stealing other people's things. Don't bring any more bird nests. The birds will be upset."
The male bird must have been so disappointed. Popcorn's shoulders slumped as if it understood. It seemed to be reflecting on its actions. Even without words, they could sense each other's feelings. Jinwoo wasn't sure if Popcorn had connected it to not stealing real nests, or if it simply thought it meant "don't make a mess."
Jinwoo pointed at the nest with his finger and repeated firmly.
"Don't steal things like this. Got it?"
"Peep!"
Popcorn's eyes sparkled as it answered energetically. Somehow, Jinwoo had a feeling his meaning still hadn't gotten through.