By Zephyria 
A few days had passed since I parted with my father at the hospital. I had been anxious about the separation, but he calmed me down, saying he no longer had any intention of leaving me and that we would be able to stay together from now on. However, he mentioned that for the time being, we would communicate through Hyun-wook.
Most likely, my phone and computer were already under surveillance. Of course, he didn’t say that explicitly, but considering Joo Min-hyeok had installed cameras in the Imperial Pavilion before, there was no telling what else he might have done. I didn’t know where the cameras were or if they were still there.
Seeing how thoroughly he perceived my every move, it seemed there had been more than just one or two. What worried me was that I had shared quite a lot of stories about my past life with Hyun-wook. Yet, since there had been no mention of that part, I was left feeling confused. Where exactly were the cameras, and how much of our conversations had been overheard? It was a headache.
Above all, the atmosphere within the palace these days was far too heavy. I understood that the first trial for the crime of insurrection had begun, and my grandfather was still denying all charges, maintaining his position that he was being framed. One would expect him to be exhausted by the intense interrogation, but he refused to budge.
In a way, he was a truly formidable human being. To deny everything even as his close aides opened their mouths one by one. I was driven nearly mad with anxiety, fearing that he would inevitably become a stripped commoner. Just as I resolved to settle the matter of the divorce once and for all, I heard Sang-seon’s voice announcing that the Emperor had arrived.
“Oh, why is he here?”
He didn’t have any particular reason to visit. Perhaps because he hadn’t shown his face much lately, I found myself tensing up at his sudden visit. In the past, I had welcomed his arrival, but now, his visits only filled me with dread. Joo Min-hyeok, perhaps accustomed to me simply lying in bed, entered the bedroom without waiting.
The moment he entered the room, his face looked so haggard that I nearly bolted upright. From his sallow skin to his unfocused pupils, it was a face perfectly worn down by fatigue and stress. It was clear he was being hounded internally and externally by the trials, the day-and-night interrogations of the suspects, and the issue regarding my residence.
But it was strange. It seemed that one’s intuition should not be ignored. For some reason, Joo Min-hyeok looked different today than on other days, and the vibe was off. I had a hunch that he had brought something to put a final end to our relationship.
Watching him approach me with a very dark expression, I pushed myself up from my reclining position. Joo Min-hyeok pulled a chair from the bedside table and sat in front of me, placing an envelope he was holding onto the bed and rubbing his exhausted face with his hand. Then, slowly removing his hand, he met my eyes.
“…Things are going in a direction far different from the plan I had in mind, so I’m actually quite bewildered. I thought it would go according to plan. That’s why I have no idea how to handle what comes next. I really don’t know.”
I could feel Joo Min-hyeok’s agony in his pained expression. It was certainly pitiful and heartbreaking, but it couldn’t be helped. We could no longer be together. I could guarantee that if I continued to stay by his side, that fatigue would never vanish from Joo Min-hyeok’s face.
“It might feel that way right now, but later, you will surely realize that letting me go was the right thing to do. If I stay by your side, Your Majesty’s face will always be shadowed and exhausted from being hounded by the ministers. Eventually, that exhausted heart will turn into anger, and we will do nothing but fight.”
And I would repeatedly bring up the sense of betrayal I felt back then. Our end was obvious. The mere fact that I am the Prime Minister’s grandson is the reason we cannot have a happy ending. Joo Min-hyeok, who had been unresponsive to my words, picked up the envelope and held it out to me.
“This is what you wanted. All the necessary documents and precautions are inside. Check them.”
With those words, Joo Min-hyeok stood up, turned around, and quietly walked toward the door.
“Is there not a single shred of the feeling you showed me left? To the point where you no longer wish to compromise with me? I thought we felt the same. Did it cool down that quickly?”
His voice sounded almost pleading, and his expression was that of someone wanting one last confirmation. Did it cool down that quickly? This wasn’t a matter of feelings cooling; it was disappointment.
Trust had vanished, leaving only distrust, and that space had been filled with suspicion—it was a completely different issue from feelings cooling. If I had simply come to dislike him, I might have lived with him by force, but this was something I couldn’t even do.
“What ‘same feeling’ are you talking about? That feeling Your Majesty never once expressed to me in words? What exactly were your feelings for me, Your Majesty? Someone with utility? Someone you grew a certain amount of affection for because you mixed your bodies so often, unable to resist lust? I don’t know anything beyond that. Because you never once told me.”
Following my words, silence settled between us. After looking at me for a moment, Joo Min-hyeok stepped completely out the door. Our problem was that we had become close too quickly. Without detailed conversations about the future, our relationship progressed hastily, fueled by passion, and we grew close at a rapid pace. And accordingly, we knew very little about each other.
I hadn’t properly grasped Joo Min-hyeok’s tendencies from seeing him up close, and the same went for him. The surging emotions were urgent, and we were merely young—twenty and twenty-two years old. It was natural for us to be clumsy and ignorant of many things, but because of our positions, what we had to endure was different from those our age.
Although I didn’t die like in the original story, I became unable to stay by his side, just as in the original. Someone else would take this place. That was the extent of my existence. The thought that I would be different vanished mercilessly; regardless of the cause, I was ultimately just someone who leaves. It seemed I existed only to play the role of filling the space beside Joo Min-hyeok for another.
∗ ∗ ∗
While Min-hyeok reviewed the mountain of documents, Yul carefully observed his sensitive state.
“What. If you have something to say, just say it without walking on eggshells. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I was just wondering if it was time for the user to bring the documents. He must have checked all the precautions, right?”
“Probably. He’s more meticulous than I thought, so he likely studied them to avoid giving any room for criticism.”
“He must have also understood the part about having to live in a designated place for two years after the divorce, right?”
“I wrote the reason, so he probably understood. It’s for safety, so he has to comply with that. Whether it’s someone with a grudge against the Prime Minister, an assassin sent by the Prime Minister’s side, or a killer—there’s no knowing who might attack from where. Since I granted the divorce he wanted, he should endure that much.”
He hadn’t expected a situation where he would have to deliver the divorce papers himself. He felt like running back, snatching them, and tearing them to pieces. It took time even for the delivery process. The crisis of Hae-joo becoming a stripped commoner had reached his throat. To the point where there was no more room to retreat.
He had thought too simply that they would be together, and he had believed without a doubt that Hae-joo would naturally remain by his side. It was Min-hyeok’s arrogance that left only regret. In truth, the shock of this result was so great that he couldn’t even realize how the current situation was unfolding.
He couldn’t even fathom if he could endure the aftermath of Hae-joo’s departure. What should he do? As Yul said, he had no choice but to watch over Hae-joo while living apart. He was in a helpless situation where he had to hope that method would work. This was the first time he had experienced waiting for the other party’s decision while being unable to do anything.
“…I didn’t even know I had to say it.”
“Say what?”
“I didn’t know I had to tell the Palace Lord about the feelings between the Grand Imperial Concubine and me. Was that how it was originally? Didn’t I think everything was understood even without speaking? Think about it. There’s no way I’d enter into that kind of relationship with someone I didn’t like.”
Min-hyeok noticed Yul’s expression distorting significantly at his words and murmured softly, “Oh, so that wasn’t it.” Yul also shook his head, not hiding his frustration as he muttered about how this was a disaster. Through Hae-joo, Min-hyeok was realizing that he was truly ignorant of many things and full of deficiencies.
“Who is it! Stop eavesdropping like a rat and come out!”
Min-hyeok, who had been mumbling in a discouraged manner, suddenly shouted sharply toward the door. At Min-hyeok’s sudden action, Yul bolted upright and took a defensive stance.
“It is I, Your Majesty.”
“…Lee Si-yoon?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to listen; I happened to overhear by chance. My father asked me to inquire as to how long the Grand Imperial Concubine would be staying in the palace…”
Min-hyeok found Lee Si-yoon’s expression and tone—which even showed a hint of a smile in this situation—irritating. The Grand Imperial Concubine?
“Is this insubordination or what? ‘Grand Imperial Concubine’? To a being so far above you that someone like you cannot call him that?”
Min-hyeok was already annoyed by Lee Si-yoon and the family trying to elevate him to Empress. Although it was a family that had made great contributions to suppressing the rebellion, it was galling that they dared to harbor such delusions. His mood was already foul and his mind cluttered, and now all sorts of things were acting up.
“I apologize, Your Majesty. I made a mistake because he is someone who will soon be vacating his position.”
Si-yoon quickly bowed his head, pressed down by Min-hyeok’s fierce aura.
“Whether the Grand Imperial Concubine leaves or not, what does that have to do with you?”
“Well, since a new person will be coming soon, I also need to prepare and…”
“Exactly what is it that you need to prepare? Listen to me carefully. The reason I kept you by my side is because you are useful. You did the tasks I assigned better than expected and always brought good results. That’s why. It’s only natural to keep someone with utility by one’s side.”
Si-yoon looked at Min-hyeok, who was pouring out vitriol without sugarcoating, with trembling eyes.
“That is the reason I kept someone like you, who is skilled at driving wedges between people, by my side. Did you think I didn’t know you’ve been playing games with your words? So stop doing useless things and stick to your duty.”
Si-yoon watched as Min-hyeok left the room, not hiding his contempt and even throwing down the pen he was holding. Tears fell as he stared. To think that after staying by his side for so long and helping the Emperor, this kind of insult was all he got in return. He couldn’t understand why the Emperor kept acting this way over someone like the Grand Imperial Concubine. Then, as if having made a decision, he picked up his phone and made a call. Someone like the Grand Imperial Concubine—it would indeed be better to just get rid of him.