Being Sick Is This Fun
“You could see it that way. After all, there aren't many scenes where he comes across as clever.”
Even on the page, Yuhyeon was written as a far cry from intelligent. Unlike the boy who had done nothing but shed tears, Hyowon captivated people with her actions, and the contrast only grew sharper. And while Hyowon worked to stabilize a nation that had fallen into even worse disarray after he came of age, Yuhyeon poured all his attention into Nabi alone.
It did look pathetic. But still—
“I think Yuhyeon cried so much as a child *because* he was clever. From a very young age, he had a clear awareness of his position and his duties.”
Of course, it would have been better if he'd stopped crying and shown a stronger side of himself. But that was a question of innate resolve or leadership, not intelligence. Being fearful, or lacking the qualities of a ruler, doesn't automatically mean a person is stupid.
The same went for how he seemed uninterested in politics after meeting Nabi. He seemed uninterested precisely because he was uninterested. It wasn't that Yuhyeon was too dim to understand how the kingdom was run.
“So he must have known all along that the Queen didn't love him. And that wanting her love wouldn't change anything.”
“Hmm… then all that groveling to win her favor wasn't because he wanted to be loved?”
“Whether the Queen likes him or not, what matters is survival. Learning to play the role was probably how he stayed alive. The Queen needs a Crown Prince, so as long as he performs that role well enough, she'll spare his life.”
Yuhyeon had value to the Queen only *as the Crown Prince*. His worth lay not in his name but in his function—and once he realized that, well, it seemed nearly impossible for him not to hate her. Which, I suspected, was exactly why he clung to Nabi so desperately.
Because she was the one person who looked at Yuhyeon as Yuhyeon—without a shred of hypocrisy or contradiction, regardless of what role he was supposed to play.
“That's why I think he hated the Queen.”
"…."
Had that answered his curiosity? I'd tried to choose my words carefully, but since it wasn't a case that could be pinned down to one clean incident, the explanation hadn't come easily. It was hard enough putting my own feelings into words—someone else's were harder still.
Convinced I'd done my best, I glanced to the side and found Kim Seokjun quietly lost in thought. I would have liked to leave him to it, but there was no time.
“Hyung, could we pick this conversation up next time? It's been twenty minutes.”
“Ah… right. Hmm, I should be heading off soon too. Thank you for telling me all that.”
“Not at all. See you next time.”
After bidding Kim Seokjun goodbye, I hurried off. I was turning my head to look for her when the scent reached me first—faint, hanging in the air. Walking a little further in that direction, I spotted Han Seyeong, her back perfectly straight even on a small folding chair.
“Noona.”
“There you are. Finished talking with your sunbae?”
“Yep. Shall we start?”
Han Seyeong nodded with a smile, and that was the whole exchange. After that, we each pored over our scripts, walking through today's scenes one by one.
“Yuhyeon, are you all right? Aigoo, if you'd just listened when I said I'd brew you some medicine, none of this would've happened!”
“Why are you angry—”
“Who's angry? Come on, up you get. Sick or not, you still have to eat.”
Nabi breezed through the door in high spirits and set down a bowl of rice porridge. Yuhyeon, his cheeks flushed with fever, was breathing a little heavily, but he obediently rose and sat as she guided him.
A spoonful of porridge came toward where he sat atop the bedding. Startled, Yuhyeon blinked, and Nabi urged him to open up as if it were nothing.
“Come on, hurry. Say *ahh*.”
"…Ahh."
With a soft gulp, the warm, yielding grains of rice slid down his throat. After about half the bowl, the raw sting in his throat had eased considerably. Watching his color improve, Nabi allowed herself a small, sneaky smile.
“Well? Feeling a little better?”
“Yeah. It's delicious. Did you make this too, Nabi?”
"Of course I did~. Right around the start of spring, my mother always caught a cold. When I cooked her this, she'd recover like nothing ever happened. You'll be right as rain soon too."
Sleeves rolled up and working with brisk efficiency, Nabi fed him clear down to the last spoonful—then suddenly pressed her hand to his forehead. Startled by the unhesitating intimacy of it, Yuhyeon froze, eyes wide.
“Fever's lower than this morning. Don't do anything today—just rest.”
“Mm. Thank you, Nabi.”
At his murmur, Nabi smiled and stroked his hair. It was the gesture of someone doting on an embarrassed little brother.
She was a yangban's daughter, an only child—though with a family too poor to keep even a single servant, the title felt rather hollow. Confusing as the world might be, the class system still existed, plain and absolute. And yet here she was, boiling porridge with her own hands for a boy she believed to be a commoner, tending him without a second thought. That was more than ordinary kindness could manage.
The thought made the hand resting on his head feel warmer still.
“…A few years ago, I was sick like this once.”
Yuhyeon was remembering his days in the palace. Looking back, it had been a light cold that should have cleared in a day—but as a child, the thought *what if I'm dying* had taken hold, and he'd spent that night trembling in absolute terror.
When the fever blurred his senses, Yuhyeon had been surrounded by any number of people. Physicians summoned in haste, servants devotedly dabbing the sweat from his brow. But that was all.
The two who never came—thinking of them now, Yuhyeon smiled faintly.
“It was hard back then… I never knew being sick could be this enjoyable.”
“You child! Don't say such things. Being ill is nothing to be glad about.”
Unable to understand him, Nabi's expression hardened and she gave him a scolding. But far from feeling rueful, Yuhyeon laughed—genuinely delighted.
It was the brightest smile she'd ever seen from him, and Nabi was still gaping in bewilderment when Yuhyeon looked at her, laughter lingering at the corners of his eyes.
“Nabi. I…”
"…."
“I'm so glad I have you.”
The whispered words dissolved into laughter, and there wasn't a trace of it that wasn't smiling. And yet nothing about it felt light—because the eyes meeting hers were brimming over with the deepest affection.
The eyes of a boy in love.
“Cut!”
The PD, who had rushed to check the footage, shouted with the delight of a child on a playground.
“Okay—wonderful! Moving straight to the close-ups. Nabi—sorry, Yuhyeon first!”
At the PD's words, the staff snapped into seamless motion. Amid the flurry, PD Kim stood with a hand covering her mouth. Even so, the deep smile beneath it refused to be hidden.
Wow… this is going to blow up.
The child actors' chemistry was even better than she'd hoped. As things stood, episode one was packed wall to wall with the child actors' scenes. The investors had insisted on a brief glimpse of the adult leads at the tail end of episode one, but episode two was still mostly the children. This was the crucial stretch that decided whether viewers kept watching, so she'd been worried—though she'd assumed the show would at least land somewhere respectable.
Han Seyeong already had plenty of experience playing the young heroine, and Seong Ijun's acting was perfectly solid too. The only thing missing was one truly striking blow.
And there it was.
PD Kim's fond gaze landed on Lee Yeonjae, blinking vacantly at nothing. God, he's adorable.
Even if the role of Yuhyeon wasn't large, it was never one to be taken lightly. No matter how good his face was, she'd wondered whether it was really right to throw in a total rookie with nothing but extra work to his name—if they hadn't, she might well be crying right now instead.
“Hoseok, how much of Lee Yeonjae's footage is left?”
“Uh… about six more takes? Most of it's already been shifted over to Kim Seokjun-ssi's side.”
“Right… Ha. Why did I do that.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing. Never mind. Back to work.”
Having dismissed the puzzled staff member, PD Kim sank into deep deliberation.
Since this was a romance, she'd decided at the early storyboard stage to cut the child actors' screen time as much as possible—it seemed unlikely they could carry such heavy emotion. And yet the instinct kept coming back.
The internet is going to lose its mind when this airs…
The scene they'd just filmed was going into the latter half of episode one. She could already see the future. Lee Yeonjae, cheeks faintly pink, saying I'm so glad I have you—that image was going to circulate endlessly.
Ha-eun had gotten one extra scene, but she was an extra, so that was the extent of it… and we have a supporting actor on our hands. To put it bluntly, it wasn't as if expanding a supporting role was impossible.
Mind made up, PD Kim pulled out her phone. With things like this, the faster you acted, the better.
“Ah, Writer Han. Busy? No, no, don't swear at me—I know you're busy, I'm busy too! Ah—ahh, it's just, there's something I need to discuss. Can't do it over the phone. I'll come over today.”
“Actor-nim! How's your stomach now?”
“It's fine. I'm all right—sorry for worrying you.”
“Don't apologize, please don't say that… just sit down here and rest!”
Without a chance to protest, I sank into the chair Ahn Jinbae had unfolded for me. As another wave of nausea rose and I bowed my head, he hovered anxiously, studying my face.
“Would you like another digestive? Or maybe a candy?”
“Hyung, I'm sorry, but talking is a bit hard right now…”
“Ah—yes! Of course. Close your eyes and rest.”
My stomach was still churning; even opening my mouth took effort. Today was the last shoot with Han Seyeong. I'd been holding up tolerably well until now, but with the two-week mark of this nausea creeping closer, my stamina must have given out, because the moment I let my guard down, the vomit surged up. Thankfully, even in my panic I'd made it to the bathroom, so I hadn't disgraced myself in front of anyone.
When Ahn Jinbae had come bounding over with rabbit-wide eyes, I'd brushed it off—I must have eaten something bad. When the PD suggested we push the remaining shoot to tomorrow since so little was left, I shook my head. One scene left with Nabi, and that was all—what was the point of delaying?
I'd nodded that I was fine and walked straight back in front of Han Seyeong, and the instant I did, I regretted it. Should have just postponed.
You okay?
Yeah. Upset stomach. I'm sure I threw off the rhythm—sorry.
Han Seyeong just gave me a helpless look and a gentle smile, telling me not to apologize for something like that. Even those few light exchanges sent that wretched scent flooding up, to the point where I couldn't tell whether I was managing my expression at all. Perhaps because I was clenching my hands hard enough to snap a nail, the shoot wrapped without incident.
Only one scene remained now—with Lady Yi. That wasn't scheduled until two days from now, so all that was left was to go back to the orphanage and rest. The PD had suddenly asked if we could talk when I had time, so I was waiting around, though I was barely half-conscious. The only thing keeping me upright was the thought that I'd never have to smell that scent again.
“Yeonjae-ya. Feeling any better?”
“Yes, I'm fine. Oh—Writer-nim. Hello.”
Writer Han appeared behind the PD, who had a hand on my shoulder, and I shot up to bow. What was the writer here for?
“Hello. You do look rough. Kim PD, asking a sick person to sit through a meeting—really. We could have just talked another day.”
“I'm just impatient. Sorry, Yeonjae-ya. It won't take long, so shall we get straight to it? Manager-nim, please have a seat too.”
With no proper meeting room anywhere on set, they'd unfolded a few chairs in a corner, and the four of us sat down. What on earth did they want to talk about?
Forcing down my churning stomach, I lifted my head—and there was the PD, wearing a face of pure good nature.
“Yeonjae-ya—hypothetically, if your part got bigger, could you handle it?”