NOVEL WEB Chapter 10: 10
The soft glow of lanterns bathed their wedding chamber in a warm, inviting light. The heavy, formal robes had been shed, discarded on the lavish bed as if eager to be rid of their ceremonial burden. Jihoon, his body still humming from the day's endless rituals and the lingering taste of Taeyoung's kiss, found himself standing before his husband, a peculiar mix of nervousness and anticipation coiling in his gut. Taeyoung, stripped down to a simple, loose inner robe, looked less like the formidable "God of Death" General and more like a ruggedly handsome man, his dark eyes fixed solely on Jihoon with an intensity that stole Jihoon's breath.
"Come here, Jihoon-ah," Taeyoung murmured, his voice a low, husky invitation that sent shivers down Jihoon's spine. He reached out a large hand, his fingers beckoning. Jihoon, feeling an almost magnetic pull, stepped forward, his heart thrumming. Taeyoung drew him close, his arms wrapping around Jihoon's waist, pulling him flush against his powerful chest. The scent of clean skin and faint woodsmoke, uniquely Taeyoung, enveloped him.
"You were… magnificent today," Taeyoung whispered against Jihoon's hair, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of Jihoon's temple. "Every noble in Goryeo saw my treasure. And your feast... they're still talking about it. You commanded them, without saying a word." A possessive tenderness laced his tone, making Jihoon blush furiously.
"I just… I just tried my best," Jihoon mumbled, his face buried against Taeyoung's shoulder, trying to quell the delightful shivers that ran through him. Being praised like this, held like this, was a dizzying new experience.
Taeyoung chuckled, a soft rumble that vibrated through Jihoon. "Your 'best' is extraordinary, my Jihoon." He gently lifted Jihoon's chin, tilting his head back until their eyes met. Taeyoung's gaze was molten, dark with desire, yet filled with a profound tenderness that made Jihoon's heart ache in the most exquisite way. "And now, you are truly mine."
His lips descended, slow and deliberate, consuming Jihoon's in a kiss that was both gentle and utterly dominant. It was a kiss that spoke of ownership, of passion, and of a deep, burgeoning love. Jihoon responded with an unrestrained hunger, his fingers clutching at Taeyoung's broad shoulders, his body arching instinctively into the warmth. They moved together, a slow, sensual dance of yearning and discovery, shedding the last vestiges of formality, the last shadows of the harsh world outside their chamber. Jihoon, in Taeyoung's arms, felt a safety, a completeness, he had never known was possible.
His illness, the novel's plot, the weight of his past life – for that night, they faded into oblivion, replaced by the overwhelming reality of Taeyoung's touch, his passion, his love. He was utterly consumed, utterly cherished. And for the first time, he felt truly, completely, alive.
The morning after was a comical awakening. Jihoon stretched languidly in the large, comfortable bed, feeling deliciously sore in places he hadn't realized could be sore. He smiled, a soft, private curve of his lips, as he remembered the intoxicating intimacy of the night. Then, the realization hit him: he was married. To a General. In a historical Korean kingdom. His internal clock, momentarily forgotten, gave a jarring tick.
Before he could even process the full implications, the door to the chamber swung open, and a flurry of maids, led by a surprisingly unruffled Madam Ahn, descended. "Sir Jihoon, it is time for your morning preparations!" Madam Ahn declared, her voice as crisp as ever, somehow completely ignoring the rumpled state of the bed or the General who was still, very much, in it.
Taeyoung merely grunted, pulling Jihoon closer, effectively trapping him against his chest. "Give him five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, his hand possessively stroking Jihoon's hair.
Jihoon flushed a deep crimson, mortified. His body, usually so modest, felt suddenly exposed under the maids' collective, if unseeing, gazes. "General!" he hissed, trying to pull away. "They're here!"
Taeyoung cracked one eye open, a mischievous glint in its depths.
"And? They serve the master of this house. And you, my Jihoon-ah, are now that master." He then planted a loud, smacking kiss on Jihoon's forehead, making Jihoon squeak in embarrassment. The maids, well-trained, kept their eyes dutifully downcast, but Jihoon swore he heard a few muffled giggles. It was a chaotic, humiliating, and utterly endearing start to his new married life.
He now knew, unequivocally, that he was loved, cherished, and also, occasionally, Taeyoung's favorite public embarrassment.
Later that day, feeling refreshed despite the chaotic start, Jihoon and Taeyoung prepared for the traditional visit to Jihoon's family home to pay respects to his elders. Jihoon was dressed in robes that, while still grand, felt far more comfortable than his wedding attire. The journey was short, filled with quiet conversation and Taeyoung's hand resting reassuringly on Jihoon's knee.
His parents, looking overwhelmed but immensely proud, greeted them with deep bows. The house was filled with relatives, all eager to catch a glimpse of the celebrated general and his now-married fiancé. Jihoon found himself navigating a dizzying array of introductions, polite smiles, and thinly veiled curiosity from his more distant relatives.
Taeyoung, true to form, was stoic but impeccable, his presence radiating quiet power that silenced any whispers of doubt about their union. He treated Jihoon's parents with the utmost respect, cementing their pride. Jihoon, watching the scene unfold, felt a warmth of gratitude towards Taeyoung. He had chosen well, both for himself and, unexpectedly, for his family's standing.
Back at the General's mansion later that evening, the residual energy of the wedding celebrations gave way to the quiet hum of domesticity. Jihoon, seeking a moment of peace, found Prince Jaemin in the ancestral garden, sitting by the quiet pond, skipping pebbles across its surface, looking forlorn.
"Your Highness," Jihoon began gently, sitting beside him. "You seem troubled."
Jaemin started, then offered a small, melancholic smile. "Sir Jihoon. The banquet was... grand. Thank you." He sighed. "It's just… the King of Goryeo. He sent for me today."
Jihoon's heart gave a jolt. "Oh? Did he... welcome you properly?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Jaemin shook his head, looking down at his reflection in the water. "He did not. He… he spoke of my position as an illegitimate son. My royal family here, in Goryeo, they always saw me as... an inconvenience. A stain. They mocked my gentle nature. I only learned of my Goryeo lineage and was sent here recently from Joseon, where I was raised by my adoptive family." Jaemin paused, his eyes glazing over with a faraway look. "It was my adoptive Joseon family, a fallen noble house, who took me in, who cherished me. They taught me, loved me. And Prince Min Youngjin… he was the one who truly cared. He sought me out. He saw my poems, my art. He spoke of beauty, of our shared home in Joseon. He was… stern, yes, sometimes severe, but he was the only one who showed me any true attention, any true... belonging, from my original world. He taught me to ride, to defend myself. I thought that was enough." Jaemin's voice dropped. "But the King of Goryeo… he speaks of solidifying ties with Joseon through my marriage here. And he demands my unwavering loyalty to him, now that I am in his kingdom. He even spoke of me needing to cut ties with my past, with... with Prince Min."
Jihoon felt a cold wave wash over him, now fully understanding the complex web of Jaemin's loyalties and trauma. This was it. The King of Goryeo, driven by political expediency and a desire to control Jaemin, was trying to maneuver him into a Goryeo marriage, forcing him to abandon his adoptive family, his home, and crucially, Prince Min Youngjin. This was the exact turning point where Jaemin, feeling abandoned by his biological family in Goryeo and pressured by their court, would eventually make the choice that would lead to the tragedy Jihoon remembered. The original novel stated Jaemin's "betrayal" of Youngjin led to his suffering. Jihoon now understood that "betrayal" was likely Jaemin choosing Goryeo's political demands over his heart's loyalty to Joseon and Youngjin.
"Prince Jaemin," Jihoon began, choosing his words carefully, his voice softening with empathy. "It is true that family can sometimes be… unkind. And it is natural to cling to anyone who offers you solace when you are cast aside. But consider this: If your birth family in Goryeo mistreated you and only now sees you as a tool for their own power, what loyalty do they truly deserve? Why would you cast aside those who genuinely cherished you, who saw your worth in Joseon—your adoptive family, and Prince Min Youngjin—for the sake of acceptance from those who discarded you?" Jihoon thought of Taeyoung, of his quiet acts of tenderness, of the fierce protection in his eyes, and how utterly different it was from the 'obsessive' love described in the novel for the General, and now, he understood, the dark turn Youngjin would take. "True affection, Prince, should never demand you betray your heart or abandon those who gave you true belonging. A love that commands you to cut ties with your past, with your genuine connections, is not a love that cherishes you. It is a love that seeks to control. Don't let their promises of power or status blind you to where your true heart, your true loyalty, lies. Don't throw away the care you've known for a false promise of acceptance from those who never wanted you."
Jaemin's gaze was fixed on Jihoon, a profound realization dawning in his eyes. He seemed to be truly considering Jihoon's words, turning them over in his mind. The thought of his cruel Goryeo royal family, and the profound implications of Jihoon's advice regarding Min Youngjin and his adoptive Joseon family, seemed to unlock something within him. "True care... and loyalty," Jaemin whispered, his voice trembling, as if seeing the world, and his own past, through a new lens. "Not to betray..."
Jihoon watched him, a desperate hope fluttering in his chest. He had to convince Jaemin, had to steer him away from the fate written for him. This was the path. This was the moment he could try to save him. The delicate balance of his new life, nestled in Taeyoung's love, now rested precariously on the slender shoulders of a prince he had only recently met, a prince he was determined to save from a choice that would destroy him.