TCBW C14

Chapter 14

Suhoe, still trying to keep his composure, said lightly, though there was a faint shadow in his expression:

“I’m not sure what lights you’re talking about, but if you mean the one who was at the wedding ceremony, that person has nothing to do with evil things.”

He shrugged as he spoke, before adding:

“The truly ill‑natured ones are called gwi—ghosts. They play cruel little pranks on ordinary folk who can’t drive them away. They call them gui down in the villages, I think. Here on Mount Unbang, where divine beings gather, it’s an auspicious place for lingering souls who can’t cross into the afterlife. Some call them wonhon, vengeful spirits, or saryeong, wandering shades. I can’t see them or sense them myself, so I always carry this with me.”

The more Suhoe explained, the more Haeeon felt cold sweat pour down his back like a waterfall. Ghosts? Vengeful spirits? Even hearing the words made the hair on his body stand on end with a creeping sense of dread and unease.

“B‑but don’t worry too much. It’s fine now.”

Seeing the pallor on Haeeon’s face, Suhoe seemed to think it best not to elaborate further and tried to reassure him instead.

“So… we can take it they’re gone now?”

Haeeon forced a smile, making an effort to steady himself.

Suhoe, seeing that effort, found himself unable to say it wasn’t certain — or that there was room for doubt.

So he simply nodded.

“Ah, that’s a relief then.”

“Yes… I suppose so.”

“Whew. Madam, you’ve been a huge help to me. Thank you! Now we can finally get out of here.”

“…Pardon?”

Suhoe tilted his head in confusion at Haeeon’s words of relief.

“We’ll be taking this car back to Seoul now.”

“No, before that—what did you just call me? I think I misheard.”

“What? Oh… ah, wait, don’t tell me—”

In the space of an instant, the air between them turned heavy and hard as stone.

They stared at each other blankly, frozen in place by that short, loaded word that had just left Haeeon’s lips.

Madam.

It was the first time in his life Suhoe had heard such a form of address applied to him. No matter how he turned it over in his mind, he couldn’t understand why that should be what Haeeon called him.

His clear eyes trembled faintly with confusion.

Haeeon, skilled at reading a situation and someone’s mood, caught on immediately why Suhoe was reacting this way.

“I take it the shrine folk didn’t give you much of an explanation. Or… none at all?”

Suhoe swallowed hard — and Haeeon took that as confirmation.

Climbing out of the driver’s seat with an awkward look, he opened the back door and gestured toward the passenger inside.

“I’m not sure how best to lay this out for you, but… the truth is, the groom is someone else.”

The words made no sense — and for a moment Suhoe’s mind went white.

He couldn’t grasp what was happening; all he could do was press his lips shut and look where Haeeon was pointing.

There, seated as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him, eyes fixed calmly on some documents, was the man Unhyo had so firmly warned him to steer clear of: Lee Dowoon.

“So… that’s…”

Haeeon nodded quietly.

Having the unbelievable confirmed drove the color from Suhoe’s face.

“Does… Lady Gye‑geum know about this?”

When he finally found his voice to ask, Haeeon’s brow beaded with sweat.

“Ah… yes. She knows.”

She knew?

Even if he is your husband, he is not your husband…

Was this what she’d meant?

Had all those years of hearing the same calm, steady lessons been meant to prepare him for exactly this moment — to accept without flinching a wedding in which the groom himself did not even stand beside him?

His thoughts tangled in a rush.

From Haeeon’s perspective, the shock on Suhoe’s face was only natural. Taking the vows himself as the stand‑in groom had been bewildering; how much worse must it be for the one the ceremony was truly for?

Haeeon glanced over at Dowoon — still focused solely on his papers.

That such a man existed was almost beyond belief. Certainly, picturing someone with his air wearing the gaudy violet robe and standing as a spectacle before the shrine servants was laughable.

But whether or not Dowoon “fit” that place was beside the point — this had to wound Suhoe.

The emotions Suhoe had kept pressed down since crossing the shrine’s threshold felt ready to break their banks; heat gathered at the corners of his eyes.

Whatever else it might have meant, today had been the wedding day he had waited all his life for.

Even if the dragon had not descended, even if the rite was symbolic — the absence of his own groom at his side left a deep sting.

Learning that someone else had stood in for him was a sharp shock.

Of course, from Dowoon’s point of view, none of that mattered.

“How long are you going to waste time on something like that?”

Haeeon sucked in a sharp breath.

To not only skip the ceremony, but greet the matter to the boy’s face as something like that—

Suhoe’s hands clenched into fists before he realized it — not from anger so much as to keep his vision from swimming while his heart sank under the shattering of all his expectations.

The bite of his nails into his palms hurt less than the cold settling over his heart.

And more than that, he refused to cry in front of Dowoon. He poured strength into his fists and swallowed the sob clawing its way up.

You mustn’t break easily.

He told himself he had to accept and understand this, because it was his duty — and because it was Gye‑geum’s teaching, one to be obeyed without defiance.

But even with that logic, the man’s words stung bitterly. That the very first thing Dowoon said after Suhoe learned he was the groom was that.

There was no apology, no explanation — nothing but a curt, dismissive phrase that made it seem Suhoe himself was beneath notice.

He decided, in a moment of weary defiance:

Fine. Then I won’t thank you, or apologize, for what happened earlier.

A petty thought, perhaps, but it was a way to endure. He would etch that one sentence and that cold tone into his memory — proof enough of how little this marriage meant to the man, a sign of what treatment to expect in days to come.

Noticing how Suhoe’s lips pressed tight against the tears in his eyes, Haeeon gave a strained little smile, trying clumsily to smooth the mood.

“The president is a very busy man. He values his time. Let’s get in the car.”

Suhoe’s bitter look lingered as he slowly climbed in.

The soft leather embraced him, but with Dowoon beside him his thoughts were too sharp to allow a moment’s ease.

On the drive out of Mount Unbang and back toward Seoul’s outskirts, Haeeon scarcely swallowed a breath in comfort — partly because of his boss, eyes on his papers, but also because of Suhoe, staring out the window with an unfocused gaze.

He looked as though he were trying very hard to keep a calm expression, but the fragility beneath it was plain.

In truth, Suhoe was fighting to rein in the surge of hurt and accept the reality in front of him.

Yes. Mr. Dowoon had to marry me because of a curse. And on top of that, he’s expected to enter into an unwanted bond. It’s only natural this situation might displease him — or that he might not like me at all.

He turned the thought over again and again, thinking from Dowoon’s side until the inner storm began to settle.

Surely it was out of that same consideration that Gye‑geum had kept Dowoon from the discomfort of the wedding ceremony.

He, Suhoe, had been raised on the Lee family’s patronage, taught since childhood that he owed them a debt like fate itself. He’d had his whole life to come to terms with his role. But perhaps Mr. Dowoon had not.

So I have to be strong. I have to help him.

It might have been nothing more than self‑justification to dull the sting in his own heart — yet the desire to understand the other man’s position was genuine.