NOVEL WEB Chapter 9: 9
The dawn of Jihoon's wedding day broke with an oppressive weight, yet it wasn't dread that settled upon him, but a strange mixture of exhilaration and sheer, unadulterated exhaustion. He was pulled from his deep, wine-induced slumber by a chorus of giggling maids who descended upon him like a swarm of very enthusiastic, very perfumed bees. "Sir Jihoon, it is your wedding day!" they chirped, practically dragging him from the warmth of his bed.
The morning was a blur of bewildering rituals. He was subjected to a thorough, almost ceremonial bathing in water infused with fragrant herbs and oils, leaving him smelling vaguely like a walking potpourri. Then came the dressing – a monumental task that involved more layers of silk, brocade, and embroidery than he thought humanly possible.
Each garment was meticulously placed, each tie adjusted with painstaking precision. He felt less like a groom and more like a very expensive, very uncomfortable doll being prepared for display. "Is all this truly necessary?" he grumbled to a particularly serious-faced maid who was attempting to affix a gold filigree ornament to his intricate topknot. She merely offered a serene, unblinking smile in response. Jihoon sighed. This was it. No turning back now.
Even before the sun had fully climbed, guests began to arrive, a seemingly endless stream of Goryeo nobility in their finest silks, their carriages filling the General's vast courtyard. The air crackled with anticipation, a far cry from the boisterous, familial atmosphere of his earlier banquet. This was the proper kind of feast, the kind Madam Ahn had originally envisioned, and Jihoon felt a flicker of perverse satisfaction knowing he'd already subverted expectations once.
Just as he was contemplating a desperate escape attempt through a window, Madam Ahn, looking primmer than ever, summoned him. "Sir Jihoon, the official scrolls await your signature." She led him to a small, elegantly appointed room where two stern-faced scribes stood beside a table laden with rolls of parchment.
One scroll, thicker than the others, was unfurled. It was the bride price scroll, meticulously detailing every item sent from the General's mansion to his family home. As the scribe read aloud, Jihoon felt his jaw slacken. "…one thousand taels of gold… five thousand taels of silver… chests of jade, rubies, and sapphires… five hundred bolts of the finest Goryeo silk… a thousand acres of prime arable land in the southern provinces…"
Jihoon's eyes bugged out. His family wasn't exactly poor, but this was an obscene amount of wealth. He started sweating. This wasn't just a bride price; this was a small kingdom. It effectively broadcasted to the entire nation the General's immense wealth and, more importantly, the extraordinary value he placed on his future spouse. Jihoon signed the scroll, his hand trembling slightly, utterly floored by the sheer, overwhelming generosity. He hadn't realized the custom extended to this level of public declaration, nor just how loved and valued he was now perceived to be by the General.
And indeed, the General had ensured it was made known. The day before, a magnificent military procession, led by General Taeyoung himself and comprising hundreds of his elite soldiers, had paraded through the bustling streets of the capital, showcasing the entire bride price as it made its way to Jihoon's family home. Carts piled high with shimmering silks, chest after chest overflowing with glinting gold and dazzling jewels, all under the watchful, approving eyes of the townspeople. It was a spectacle designed to impress, to publicly declare the General's devotion and the high standing of his chosen partner. The entire city now knew that the 'God of Death' had chosen, and he cherished his choice beyond measure.
Some hours later, his own family arrived, a smaller, more subdued procession. His parents, looking overwhelmed but proud, were accompanied by a carriage bearing his dowry. The scroll detailing his contributions was handed directly to Jihoon, a sign of trust and respect in his new role as master of the household. As he unfurled it, he saw a respectable list of lands, gold, and fine goods. It was, by any measure, a grand dowry for a noble, carefully prepared by his family. But next to the General's astronomical bride price, it looked, to Jihoon's modern eye, utterly insignificant, almost comically so. He fought the urge to chuckle at the sheer imbalance. Well, at least my family tried.
The wedding ceremony itself was a blur of solemnity and ancient custom. Dressed in the heavy, ornate robes of a Goryeo groom, Jihoon felt both utterly alien and profoundly connected to something ancient and timeless. He bowed, performed rituals with intricate hand movements, and exchanged formal vows, all under the watchful, intense gaze of General Taeyoung, who looked impossibly handsome and powerful in his own ceremonial attire. Jihoon felt a blush creep up his neck every time Taeyoung's eyes lingered on him, a soft, almost possessive warmth in their depths. The General, standing tall and unyielding, seemed to radiate a silent, fierce joy. He was finally, publicly, binding Jihoon to him.
After the formal ceremony, a more private and profoundly moving ritual took place. Taeyoung led Jihoon to a secluded, beautifully maintained part of the ancestral garden, where ancient stone markers stood nestled beneath towering trees. These were the graves of General Taeyoung's late parents. The air here was quiet, peaceful, almost reverent. Taeyoung lit incense, bowing deeply, then offered a silent prayer. He then turned to Jihoon, his eyes soft, and gently took his hand, guiding him to kneel beside him.
"Mother, Father," Taeyoung began, his voice a low, tender rumble, surprisingly intimate in the quiet space. Jihoon felt a lump form in his throat, utterly touched by this vulnerable side of the formidable General. "I have brought my husband, Jihoon, to meet you. He is... he is everything I never knew I desired. He is sharp-witted, kind, and brave beyond measure. He has brought light and laughter back into this house, and into my heart. He has earned the loyalty of my men, and he has captured my soul. I love him dearly. I vow to protect him, to cherish him, and to make him happy for all our days. Please, watch over us, and bless our union."
Jihoon felt tears prick his eyes. The sincerity in Taeyoung's voice, the raw emotion in his gaze, was overwhelming. This was real. This love, this man, was real. He squeezed Taeyoung's hand, offering his own silent prayer for their future, for the impossible hope that they might find a way to defy the fate written for them.
Finally, the long day culminated in the wedding banquet, a grand affair that lived up to all the Goryeo noble expectations. The main hall was transformed into a dazzling spectacle of lanterns, silk banners, and tables groaning under the weight of exquisite dishes. Nobles, military commanders, and high-ranking officials mingled, the air thick with polite chatter and the clinking of porcelain cups. Jihoon, now accustomed to his role, moved among them with a newfound confidence, occasionally catching Taeyoung's eye across the crowded room, a shared smile passing between them that felt like a secret.
As the evening wore on, and the general revelry reached its peak, Jihoon noticed a subtle tension near the King's elevated platform. He saw the King, a stern, imposing figure, lean in to speak to Prince Jaemin, who was seated a little apart from the main throng of revelers.
Jihoon watched as the King's face, usually impassive, hardened, his lips thin. Though he couldn't hear the words, he could see Jaemin flinch, his head bowing, his shoulders slumping. The vibrant light seemed to dim around the young prince, who suddenly looked small and vulnerable. Jihoon's heart ached for him. It was a silent, private berating, a stark reminder that even in this joyous moment, Jaemin was the "unloved" prince, still facing his predetermined path of sorrow. And as Jihoon watched Jaemin's dejected posture, a chilling wave of recognition washed over him. He can't just bask in the joy letting his one of the closest freind here be played by the plot.
He looked across the hall at Jaemin, whose light was destined to be snatched by the cruel plot. Jihoon's heart ached. He wouldn't just fight for his own survival; he would fight for a better ending for them both, to defy the fate written in that cursed novel.
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