Carrying the Child of the Man Who Killed Me

Chapter 3

“I… I don’t understand what Your Majesty is saying.”

Yeocheong replied, lying flat on the ground.

His plan had been simple: to explain to the Emperor that the Fourth Princess had misunderstood, that nothing had happened between him and the Crown Prince of Yeon, and then to leave immediately for where his mother was waiting. However, standing in the Emperor’s presence, his mind went completely blank.

‘Why am I so nervous when I haven’t done anything wrong?’

The Emperor gazed down at him in silence. Whatever thoughts were running through his mind, his eyes were anything but paternal.

His gaze was more like someone appraising the value of an object. Feeling a sharp chill run down his back, Yeocheong shivered uncontrollably.

“The Fourth Princess claims he saw you in the palace gardens, embracing the Crown Prince of Yeon. Are you saying the Fourth Princess is lying?”

“It’s not… it’s not that.”

Even though he had done nothing wrong, an inexplicable sense of dread and tension gripped him. Struggling to calm his wildly racing heart, Yeocheong finally managed to speak.

“We only met by chance while I was walking in the palace gardens. I almost tripped, and he caught me. It was indeed a situation that could be misunderstood, but all we did was exchange a few words,” Yeocheong explained, feeling as though his heart might burst out of his chest. He bowed his head even lower as he recounted the events of that day. His forehead touched the cold floor, but he was too tense to notice the chill.

“They say you seemed to be conversing quite affectionately.”

“That’s not true. It was only a brief exchange.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Well….”

Yeocheong hesitated, unable to answer immediately. The subject of their conversation wasn’t something he was comfortable discussing in front of the Emperor.

Perhaps sensing his reluctance, the Emperor’s tone softened slightly, though it was difficult to discern his exact thoughts.

“It seems the Seventh Prince misunderstands me. Do you think I’m so narrow-minded that I can’t understand a child’s feelings of affection?”

“Excuse me?”

Forgetting decorum in his shock, Yeocheong lifted his head with a dumbfounded sound. The Emperor, contrary to the sharp gaze that had seemed to pierce him moments ago, now wore a surprisingly gentle expression.

“The King of Seonguk once brought up the idea of a marriage alliance and suggested sending you there.”

At the mention of Seonguk, Yeocheong took a small, sharp breath. Though he knew little of the world beyond the borders of Song Empire, he had overheard bits and pieces from the palace attendants.

“Did you hear? Seo-ah was sent with the delegation to Seonguk.”
“Poor girl. She must have made a terrible mistake to upset the Dowager Empress like that.”
“They say Seonguk doesn’t even treat their women as humans. Who knows, she might bear a bastard child and never be able to return to Song Empire.”

The tales of Seonguk had been overwhelmingly negative, leaving a strong and dreadful impression on him. It was a place he had remembered vividly, hoping he’d never have to go there.

‘I don’t want to go to a place like that.Even if I won’t be treated like someone important everywhere, still…’

Though he doubted even a queen would be treated disrespectfully, after hearing such stories, Yeocheong had no desire to go to Seonguk. He swallowed dryly, trying to calm his nerves.

“If that’s what you wish for, Seonguk wouldn’t be a bad choice.”

“…”

“Do you like the Crown Prince of Seonguk?”

Yeocheong recalled the brief conversation he had with Ji-hyuk. It had been far too short to truly understand what kind of person he was, but at the very least, he didn’t seem like a malicious individual.

“…Yes.”

Though he wasn’t entirely sure of his feelings, Yeocheong instinctively concluded that it would be better to go to Seonguk—even if it was due to the Emperor’s misunderstanding—than to a place where he might not even be treated as a human. Giving up on further explanations, he simply nodded quietly.

“Hahaha.”

The Emperor’s hearty laughter filled the room, causing Yeocheong to flinch slightly in surprise.

“Indeed. As heartless a father as I may be, would I not grant you such a simple wish?”

Yeocheong had never asked the Emperor for anything, but he chose not to correct him and remained silent. After all, if he had to marry, it might as well be to someone he’d at least exchanged a few words with.

“You may leave now.”

The private audience with the Emperor lasted less than a moment, but the change it brought was far from insignificant.

Before long, rumors spread throughout the capital: the Seventh Prince had fallen for the Crown Prince of Seonguk, so much so that he was lovesick. Out of pity for his son, His Majesty the Emperor had personally arranged the marriage between the Seventh Prince and the Crown Prince of Seonguk.

***

“Yeocheong, my child.”

“Mother…”

Yeocheong murmured in reply.

“If I send you away like this, when will I ever see you again?”

“When I settle down in Seonguk, I’ll make sure to request permission to invite you over, Mother.”

The marriage arrangements proceeded swiftly, and before long, Yeocheong was preparing to leave for Seonguk. It was just a week after his twentieth birthday.

“It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. Why are you so sad?”

Yeocheong tried to console his mother, who was dabbing at his endless tears with a handkerchief.

His mother, the Fifth Consort, remembered saying similar words to her own mother on the day of her marriage. That day, however, turned out to be the last time he ever spoke to her. Haunted by that memory, he found herself unable to let Yeocheong go, even as the time to board the carriage drew near.

“I’ll write to you regularly, so please don’t worry too much.”

“Yes, I know. You’re not a child anymore. I understand that… but I didn’t expect you to leave so suddenly. If only I could have stayed by your side a little longer.”

Yeocheong was well aware that he was her mother’s only source of joy in her otherwise lonely life in the imperial palace. Leaving her mother behind weighed heavily on his heart, but it was a duty he could not escape.

“Your Highness, it’s time to go.”

Came the anxious voice of Yeon, the attendant who had been waiting outside for their farewell to end. At last, the Fifth Consort reluctantly released her son’s sleeve and spoke with trembling resolve.

“Live well. Promise me you’ll live well.”

“…Yes, Mother.”

Yeocheong replied, his voice barely steady as tears filled his eyes. He forced himself to take heavy steps toward the carriage, his heart sinking with every step.

“It will take about a week by carriage to reach Seonguk. If the weather is unfavorable, it could take a bit longer.”

Explained the Seonguk warrior who had come to escort him. Bowing respectfully, he added.

“We will do our utmost to ensure your journey is as comfortable as possible.”

A week—or even longer. For Yeocheong, who had never set foot outside the palace, the sheer distance was unfathomable.

“Yes, I’ll be in your care.”

“You’re to become the Queen of Seonguk, Your Highness. There’s no need for you to address us so respectfully. Please feel free to speak casually.”

“Oh… I see. Very well.”

Yeocheong said, nodding awkwardly as he adjusted his speech. He had instinctively used formal language, sensing the warrior’s high rank, but now he made an effort to speak more casually, though it felt unnatural. After a brief moment of hesitation, he asked him a question.

“What is Seonguk like?”

The arrangements for his departure had been so swift that Yeocheong hadn’t had time to learn much about his destination. With no one in his life who could provide insights, he knew next to nothing about Seonguk. Only now had he realized how far he would have to travel. All he knew was that Seonguk lay south of Song Empire and that it rarely snowed there.

“Compared to Song Empire, it is less developed in some ways,” the warrior began. “However, its forests are well-maintained, and the climate is mild even in winter. It is not uncommon for people from Song Empire to visit Seonguk for leisure or recuperation.”

The warrior, his expression unchanging, added a few more words to the silent and visibly tense Yeocheong.

“Please do not worry. We will ensure your comfort, and I will do my utmost to help you adapt quickly to Seonguk.”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.”

Yeocheong replied hastily. He couldn’t help but feel awkward, as though he were an unwelcome guest heading to a place that would soon be his new home. Unable to shake the unease, he pressed his lips together and leaned his head against the rattling wall of the carriage.

As the warrior had said, Yeocheong arrived in Seonguk on the eighth day. Since he had departed Song Empire just ten days before the wedding, this left him only one day to rest.

“In Seonguk, there is a custom that the bride and groom must not see each other during the week leading up to the wedding. His Highness the Crown Prince will greet you on the day of the ceremony,” explained a stern-looking senior attendant as he tended to Yeocheong.

So that was why the Crown Prince had not been present among those welcoming him as he stepped out of the carriage. It made sense now.

Since the marriage had not yet taken place, the attendants of Seonguk addressed Yeocheong as “Your Highness.” The idea that, in just a few days, he would be referred to as the Crown Princess still felt surreal to him

Although we only spoke briefly, he seemed like a kind person. Surely, he won’t treat me harshly. He may not be pleased about marrying someone he barely knows, but… if I try my best, couldn’t we become a decent couple?

Yeocheong wasn’t harboring grand expectations, knowing their marriage wasn’t born of love. Still, he hoped that, even if they couldn’t share a deep affection, he and Jihyuk could build a harmonious relationship—a marriage rooted in mutual respect and trust.

“Bride and groom, please lift your heads and look upon each other.”

But the hope and expectations he held crumbled the moment his eyes met Ji-hyeok’s again on the day of the wedding.

“…”

The man before him—once a brief and kind acquaintance—now gazed at him with a face colder than the northern winds of the empire.