The Sun Does Not Fall
The most terrifying enemy of all was, without a doubt—
Being bluntly asked when I planned to marry was embarrassing. And understandably so, since neither I nor Wang Seolha had even come of age yet.
By the standards of this life, not my previous one, one had to be seventeen to be considered an adult, so I hadn't given the matter a single thought.
"What's the matter? Have you truly never given it any thought?"
I was about to admit as much, seeing no reason to lie, when—
Delay the marriage as long as you can.
A voice transmission?
Out of nowhere, a message came from Wang Inho. And what he said made no sense at all.
Delay the marriage? Surely it wasn't that Wang Inho prized me so much he wanted me to hold out until another marriage prospect turned up. There had to be some other reason.
Considering Wang Inho's position and his usual conduct, saying something like that almost certainly meant politics was involved. And when I thought about why he'd chosen a voice transmission instead of speaking aloud, I realized this situation was far from ordinary.
Wang Inho did not trust Wang Yeomsu.
With that in mind, his subtly checking Wang Yeomsu all this while finally made sense. The question was why he couldn't trust him—and after a little more thought, the answer came to me easily enough.
He's worried that Wang Yeomsu's power might grow any larger.
Of course, as long as Wang Inho remained Clan Head, it wouldn't matter how much power Wang Yeomsu amassed. Wang Inho had already built too much for that to threaten him.
But I was a different story. By the time I succeeded as Clan Head, I would have accomplished nothing, and I would have to face Wang Yeomsu—a cousin of the previous head, father-in-law to the current one, and Master of the Vermilion Bird Pavilion besides.
No wonder he can't help worrying.
Even so, to begin openly checking a cousin he'd always been close with, practically overnight—politics really was a business without blood or tears.
"Thought about it... not deeply, I confess. However."
Everyone's attention fixed on me at those words. I paid it no mind and pressed on.
"I believe the engagement could take place right now, if desired."
"An engagement, you say?"
It was such an unexpected remark that everyone except Wang Inho blinked in surprise.
Wang Inho gave a slight motion of his chin, as if to tell me to continue.
"If we settle the engagement in advance, then when the time comes, the wedding will proceed naturally of its own accord, will it not?"
Wang Inho regarded me with an eye that held something unreadable. This time, it was he who had caught on to my intent.
Announcing my intention to become engaged was, in effect, a roundabout way of declaring that I had no plans to push the marriage talks any further just yet.
Put that way, I would surely save face with the elders who wanted the marriage arrangements to move quickly.
I stole a glance at Wang Yeomsu. He must have sensed by now that Wang Inho did not trust him.
If Wang Yeomsu raised an objection here, it would only confirm Wang Inho's suspicions. With that thought, I waited to see how he would respond.
"An excellent idea, Young Lord."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed. The marriage talks have not been underway for even a single day, after all. As you say, Young Lord, once the engagement is settled, the two of you will see it through in due course."
There was something distinctly relieved in Wang Yeomsu's expression as he said it. Being subject to Wang Inho's suspicion since morning had apparently worn on him.
Yet even so, Wang Inho showed no reaction at all.
Is he still suspicious? No—what kind of man is this paranoid?
By now he had every reason to set his doubts aside, but Wang Inho rose from his seat without the slightest hint of it on his face.
"Then this concludes our discussion. I shall take my leave."
The scrape of a chair.
With only those words, Wang Inho left the room. Just as I was worrying that this might provoke an unexpected rebellion from Wang Yeomsu, Seolha leaned her head against my shoulder.
I looked over to find her eyes closed as well—she seemed to have fallen asleep. After being wound to such an extreme pitch of tension, the moment Wang Inho stepped out of the room, it must all have drained away at once.
With Wang Yeomsu's leave, I carried Seolha to the medical hall.
Immediately after Mujin and Seolha left the room—
Whoof.
Wang Yeomsu at last let out a long, deep sigh of relief. Depending on how things had gone, the situation just now could have cost him Wang Inho's favor for the rest of his life.
Thanks to the Young Lord's clever maneuvering, the worst had been averted. Wang Yeomsu felt wounded by Wang Inho's suspicion, but he understood it.
It had already been more than twenty years since Wang Inho had grown so consumed by politics.
Among the many brothers of the clan, Wang Inho had stood far from the line of succession, and so he had entered the court on his own merits, determined to raise himself by his own hand.
Whatever else might be said of him, his talent for the martial arts was arguably the finest in all of Goryeo, and Wang Inho had risen ever higher until he attained the rank of Great General.
And there had been one man who helped him climb that far—Choe Chunghon.
Wang Inho had grown close to Choe Chunghon, taking the field alongside him, and despite the difference in their years, they could truly be called comrades.
But then came the year of Byeongjin.
Choe Chunghon killed Yi Uimin, the heart of Goryeo's power, and seized control. Before long, he massacred the ministers of the court.
When Choe Chunghon went so far as to depose the king itself, and Wang Inho's attempts to persuade him came to nothing, Choe Chunghon branded his brothers with treason—executing some, banishing others.
Witnessing all of it, Wang Inho returned to the clan, saying that power had changed the man.
After all that, there was nothing Wang Yeomsu could say, even if Wang Inho did suspect him.
Choe Chunghon.
So much had changed since that affair, Wang Yeomsu thought, rising from his seat.
It was time to start drawing up lessons to train the Flag Bearer Corps.
Gaegyeong. Yeon-gyeong Palace.
Gyaaaaargh!
It was the sound that rang out whenever the officials went about their rounds these days. The screams were so piercing that they traveled along the ground and echoed all the way outside.
And it wasn't only the screaming. The hiss of flesh searing, the reek of blood mingled with stench beyond description—the sounds and smells of death and agony had spread through every corner of the palace.
The palace was filled with people plugging their ears and covering their noses. From the servants to the highest officials, they all hunched their shoulders and tried their best to feel nothing at all.
Yet there were things no one could avoid seeing.
Whoooosh.
Heads impaled on long spears, their hair streaming in the wind.
Every one of those heads had come up from the underground. Each time the screaming finally ceased, another head was added to the count, and the sight sent a chill through everyone who beheld it.
And the man seated upon the throne was no exception.
"Close the window. I have no wish to look."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
His bodyguard shut the window as ordered, and at once the room fell silent, the sound of the wind gone.
Inside Yeon-gyeong Palace, the various ministers had all assembled—yet not one of them made so much as the sound of breathing.
"Well then. Speak. Why does it remain like that, long past the hour the moon should have risen?"
At those words, everyone but one man bowed their heads.
"We beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty."
"I just asked you. Why does no one answer?"
The king asked again. The answer that came back was the same.
"We beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty."
"Forgiveness! Forgiveness!! Have you truly nothing else to say to me?"
The man on the throne—Wang Yeong—shouted thus, crumpling the paper in his hand and hurling it to the floor. It was a sight that should have made anyone cower, yet the ministers did not so much as flinch. Taking in that scene, Wang Yeong lamented inwardly.
Not a single soul fears me. Am I truly a king at all?
A month ago, he had marshaled every resource at his disposal in an attempt to assassinate Choe Chunghon. And he had failed, miserably.
This was the result. The men who had once shown him loyalty, if only on the surface, no longer even bothered to pretend after that day.
He had striven to protect the nation, to save it, to restore it to its rightful place—yet there was not one man in this room who gave true loyalty to the Goryeo royal house.
Each of them was either one of the heads already impaled outside, or one of the screams echoing up from below.
He should have died alongside them that day. Had he done so, at the very least he might have tarnished Choe Chunghon's reputation.
But Choe Chunghon had spared him. And he had spared him with that very outcome in mind.
Even so, Wang Yeong opened his mouth. He believed that if he collapsed here, Goryeo itself would soon collapse with him.
"The thing I just threw. Do you know what it is?"
There was no answer. Wang Yeong drew in a sharp breath and continued.
"A notice. A notice. They've been posted all over the streets lately. You're aware of that, I trust?"
"......"
"Well then. Shall I at least tell you what it says? 'An evil spirit has entered the palace, causing many to cry out in fright—heed them not. Pig's blood is being sprinkled to drive it out—though you smell the blood, heed it not. The corpses lately found along the rivers and in the mountains are those who could not endure the evil spirit's aura and perished—heed them not.'"
Even when Wang Yeong finished, not a single minister opened his mouth. Deciding that anything more would only be a waste of breath, Wang Yeong was just rising to his feet—
"Kwahahaha!"
—when laughter suddenly rang out. Then a white-haired man stepped forth from among the ministers.
"Supreme Dictator. What is the meaning of this?"
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. I meant to hold in my laughter, but—"
"Then tell me why you laughed."
Supreme Dictator Choe Chunghon stroked his beard slowly before speaking.
"When Your Majesty works himself into such a rage to declare the most obvious of truths, how could I do anything but laugh?"
"What did you say?!"
"Consider it, Your Majesty. With the state of the realm as it is, what good could possibly come of unnerving the common people? It is a lie told entirely for their sake. Pray, let your anger cool."
Choe Chunghon tilted his head slightly as he finished. So utterly different was this from the man who had once at least gone through the motions of courtesy that Wang Yeong was left momentarily at a loss—and then, without warning, Choe Chunghon began to recite a poem.
Shoot an arrow at the sun—does the sun fall?
Hurl a stone at the sun—does the sun fall?
Who among men could ever strike the sun from heaven?
The sun does not fall, and thus it is the sun.
Be thankful if no mere spark flies your way.
Wang Yeong could only stare at Choe Chunghon in hollow despair as he recited his verse. It struck him anew just how far royal authority had fallen.
"You insolent wretch! Choe Chunghon!"
"Hm?"
At that moment, one of the ministers could bear it no longer and leapt from his place. His fury was such that his face, flushed scarlet, went beyond red and turned a bloodless shade of blue.
"The audacity...! I meant only to stand by and watch, but I cannot endure it! How dare a man who feeds upon the nation's stipend so shamelessly demean His Majesty to his face!"
"Heheh. I merely composed a verse from a fine turn of phrase that came to mind and offered it to His Majesty. Do not twist it into something it is not."
"You dog...! Word games to the very end!"
"You there."
Wang Yeong felt a strange familiarity with the scene. Seven years since his enthronement. It had always been like this.
"Perhaps you would like to see the beauty of this land called Goryeo from somewhere a little higher up?"
The moment those words left his mouth, the furious minister's head was severed, clean as a whetted blade.
That night, one more head was added to the spears outside.