BW C33

Chapter 33

“Is this because of the decoction? Or the egg pancake? It’s not worth so much—how could you give me something so precious…”

But Chilbok seemed to have no idea why Hoeun was doing this. At the non sequitur, Hoeun tittered. Yes, the decoction and the egg pancake were things to be grateful for.

Hoeun wrapped his hand over the back of Chilbok’s hand gripping the pouch. Then, as when Chilbok had once whispered while giving him jangjorim, he murmured softly.

“This is just for you. It’s a secret from everyone else.”

It was only a joke. But Chilbok nodded with a grimly solemn face.

“Yes. A secret. I won’t tell anyone until I die.”

At that, Hoeun tittered again. Finding Chilbok endearing, he patted his shoulder. Chilbok’s cheeks flushed rosy under the look. Hoeun even helped him tuck the chocolate pouch into his bosom, then turned around. And—

“…”

“…”

Far off, he locked eyes with Taemuk, mounted on his horse. It was impossible to know whether they’d met by chance, or whether Taemuk had been watching for some time. Startled like a thief caught mid-steal, Hoeun twitched his shoulders, then gave Taemuk an awkward smile. Taemuk snapped his gaze away as if he’d seen something he’d rather not.

Regardless, feeling as though his spirits might fly, Hoeun walked lightly toward Taemuk. With every step, his silk ribbon fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.

Reaching the front of Taemuk’s horse, Hoeun stretched both arms toward him.

“General.”

He even called him in a voice sweet enough to tickle the ears. His face was simply pale and bright.

“Haa…”

Taemuk gave a disbelieving little laugh. Twisting his lips slightly askew for a moment, he took Hoeun’s arms without a word and hoisted him up. Hoeun’s small, thin body settled in front of Taemuk.

Hoeun immediately clasped Taemuk’s waist. And the horse hadn’t even started moving yet.

“Whew…”

Taemuk’s tent. Sitting in seiza at the end of the mat, he let out a sigh edged with tension. The “cling-close operation” had gone well enough all day, but he had no idea what to do inside the tent. In here, clinging seemed unlikely to end well.

Thinking what new humiliations tonight might bring—how many pains lay in wait—his chest churned. All he’d had that day was the one bowl of decoction Chilbok had given him for supper, yet he felt on the verge of retching.

Hoeun glanced toward the tent entrance. Taemuk had disappeared around the time the others turned in, and there had been no sign of him into the late night.

Come to think of it, Taemuk had never been in his tent before Hoeun. Where on earth did he go every night…

As Hoeun stared vacantly at the entrance, lost in thought, the quiet tent flap suddenly flipped up and Taemuk appeared.

“Eek…”

Hoeun startled as if an intruder had broken into his home. Strictly speaking, it was Taemuk’s tent, and he was the guest. Coming to his senses late, he sprang up and bowed.

“Y-you’re here.”

“…”

Taemuk cast him a brief glance, then stood to one side and began undressing. Hoeun quickly turned his eyes away, and then even turned his whole body sideways. He could no longer see Taemuk, but the sounds of undressing kept drilling into his ears.

Hoeun scratched his ear rim with his shoulder for no reason, then carefully ventured,

“Y-you must be tired. You haven’t slept since yesterday… Please sleep well tonight. I’ll stand watch over you.”

It was something he said with great resolve. But Taemuk immediately snorted. It was clearly a sneer.

“You’ll watch over me, so I should sleep?”

“Yes. I—I also have a pistol.”

Hoeun took the pistol from his side and set it on the small table. He still sat half-turned away from Taemuk.

“…”

Taemuk gave no answer. Only the sound of trousers being shucked came. Ignoring the sound as best he could, Hoeun stammered on,

“I might not be able to kill as many monsters as you, General, but m-maybe one…”

“That clever head of yours thinks up only that?”

“…Sir?”

Hoeun turned toward him before he knew it. At some point, Taemuk had changed into a robe and was looking at him.

“You stick to me like a leech all day, and now you don’t want to do the one thing you’re supposed to?”

“…”

Hoeun nearly clutched at his heart. The remark struck home like a nail. How could he pierce someone’s insides so cleanly, in an instant.

“It’s not… it’s not like that…”

As Hoeun’s lips fumbled, Taemuk brushed past him and dropped onto the bedding. Then he crooked a finger at Hoeun.

“Don’t think. Come here.”

“…”

His voice, issuing orders, had sunk low. He seemed angry. Understandably so. The guide he had finally found could do nothing properly. If Hoeun were Taemuk, he would find himself thoroughly exasperating.

But—but he could not bring himself to take Taemuk between his hips. He had steeled himself to be torn and eaten by monsters—but not to die in the midst of that act.

“Not coming? Then I’ll drag you.”

Unable to wait, Taemuk spoke again. At the bass that seemed to make the ground vibrate, the color fled Hoeun’s cheeks. Unable to hide the tense look, he went to Taemuk and sat in seiza about two handspans away.

“…”

As soon as he sat, he squeezed his eyes shut. He thought his hair would be grabbed and he’d be hauled between Taemuk’s legs at once. But even after counting to ten silently, and counting to ten again, Taemuk didn’t move.

Hoeun cracked his eyes open. At the same moment, he met Taemuk’s gaze.

“…”

“…”

Hoeun gulped and dropped his eyes—so hard that, at a glance, it might have seemed he’d closed them altogether.

Taemuk, on the other hand, stared at him without blinking. Hoeun could feel that gaze on his eyes, his nose, and on his split lips. To feel a gaze as touch—curious indeed.

Silence flowed, and flowed again.

All the world was quiet. It was late enough that most soldiers must have been asleep; only the tent rustling in the wind, the trees stirring, and Taemuk’s breathing could be heard.

How long had it been? When Hoeun’s legs began to tingle where they were folded under him, Taemuk finally spoke.

“Right. I’m tired.”

“…Sir?”

“I’m going to sleep.”

Then he flopped back on the bedding. Hoeun blinked a few times, set a hand to the floor, and moved to rise.

“Ah—yes. Please sleep.”

But Taemuk looked up at him through narrowed eyes.

“Where are you going.”

“Uh—b-because you said you were going to sleep…”

“We’re sleeping together.”

“T-together?”

“Yes.”

Taemuk patted the spot beside him.

“…”

Hoeun stared at the not-particularly-inviting bedding. “Sleep together” meant—sleep together, didn’t it? Just sleep? That must be it. Taemuk wasn’t one to speak in circles—and he had no need to.

The tightness at the corners of Hoeun’s eyes eased. If it was just lying down to sleep, he could do that as much as needed. In fact, it was just the sort of night with his Military God he wanted.

“Then p-please excuse me.”

In a small voice, Hoeun climbed onto the bedding. Just as he was about to lie down awkwardly, Taemuk tugged on the tightly bound sleeves of Hoeun’s garment.

“Do nobles all sleep dressed like this?”

“…”

At that, Hoeun looked down at himself. Tied sleeve cords, cheollik, jacket—clothes ill-suited for sleep.

He hesitated, then knelt again. He began untying the cords at his arms. He didn’t want to undress, but there was no help for it. He had learned well enough over the last nights that Taemuk’s demands were not to be gainsaid.

With cheollik and jacket off, he was soon down to his under-jacket. The thin fabric let the chill through. Surely he wouldn’t be told to strip bare—he glanced at Taemuk; thankfully, there was no further comment.

Hoeun folded the garments neatly and set them to one side. He rolled the sleeve cords and laid them on top. Then, timid, he lay down beside Taemuk. Not flush against him—at a proper distance, about a handspan away. Even so, curiously, he could feel Taemuk’s warmth—so warm it was like having a brazier beside him.

“…”

“…”

Silence came again. Taemuk did nothing—one arm tucked behind his head, eyes on the ceiling.

Rigidly tense, Hoeun scarcely dared to exhale. All his attention was on Taemuk. But as the quiet stretched on and on, his limbs slowly loosened. His eyes began to flutter shut. Despite having slept all day against Taemuk’s chest, now, again, sleep came. If he fell asleep now, he felt he could rest soundly until morning without so much as a stir.

“…”

About then, Taemuk turned onto his side, facing Hoeun. Hoeun felt him move, but he was already half-asleep.

At some point, the candle burned to the base and went out. Then Hoeun thought: So tonight we’re just sleeping. We really are just sleeping. Maybe the “cling-close operation” had worked even better than he’d hoped.

And then—

Thump.

Taemuk’s hand came down on his belly.