RHH | Chapter 1.2

Recalling that face, Leehwan studied Absalom closely. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he looked even paler than before.

“Your complexion doesn’t look good. Are you sick?”

At that, Absalom laughed. It was the same kind of laughter as before.

“That should be my line, Leehwan. Do you even know what your own face looks like right now?”

Leehwan instinctively touched his face. His rough skin met his fingertips. If Lucien saw him, he probably wouldn’t be pleased—that was what crossed his mind at that moment.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

Absalom’s voice was sharp. Leehwan turned to look at him. His deep blue eyes glowed intensely.

“I’m the one in front of you right now. So don’t think about anyone else.”

“…Sorry.”

Leehwan knew that Absalom’s words didn’t quite fit the nature of their friendship, and that he wasn’t obligated to respond in any particular way. Still, he apologized without hesitation.

Three years ago, Absalom had told Leehwan that he loved him. At the time, Leehwan had already been in a relationship with Lucien, so of course, he had turned him down. But more than that, Absalom had always been just a friend to him—so even if Lucien hadn’t been in the picture, his answer likely wouldn’t have changed.

Even after that, they had remained friends. It was thanks to Absalom respecting Leehwan’s wish—he hadn’t wanted to lose his only friend in this world.

And yet, Absalom’s one-sided love was still ongoing.

Leehwan looked at him carefully. Silvery hair, deep blue eyes, breathtaking features that could easily be mistaken for the wrong gender—there was no logical reason for someone like him to be so devoted to Leehwan. And yet, Absalom had repeatedly confessed his love. The most recent confession was just two months ago.

Sometimes, his eyes looked like they held nothing but ashes. Whenever that happened, Leehwan felt as if a heart burned out by years of unrequited love was being placed right in front of him.

‘What would remain after everything has burned away?’

That sudden thought startled him. Quickly, he grabbed his beer mug.

“We haven’t seen each other in a while. Are you just going to be mad the whole time?”

Absalom let out a deflating laugh. It was his way of letting it go. Only then did Leehwan feel at ease again and placed an additional order.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

Leehwan slowly opened his eyes. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep, so waking up like this felt strangely disorienting. He could feel the hard mattress beneath his back, and a scent unfamiliar to his memory brushed past his nose. As he turned his head, his eyes—barely adjusting to the darkness—caught sight of unfamiliar furniture.

He tried to retrace his memories. He recalled sitting across from Absalom, laughing together. After that, his mind went blank. It seemed that after abstaining from alcohol for so long, just a few beers had been enough to get him completely drunk.

That meant this place was likely a room on the second floor of the tavern or perhaps a nearby inn. Leehwan silently thanked Absalom for dragging his drunken self all the way here instead of abandoning him on the streets.

The night was still deep, and from outside the window, a pleasant level of ambient noise hummed through the air. The lingering alcohol in his system coaxed him back into slumber. Leehwan slowly closed his eyes.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard the sound of the door opening. The approaching presence was familiar.

‘It’s Rlom.’

Feeling relieved, Leehwan was about to sink back into sleep when something soft yet dry—likely a finger—grazed his lips. As expected of Absalom, whose body temperature always ran high, the touch was scorching as it traced over his lips and cheek.

By the time Leehwan fully awoke, the faint, metallic taste lingering in his mouth sent a chill down his spine. He realized why Absalom was rubbing his face. He forced himself to steady his breathing, which threatened to grow erratic.

Absalom remained like that for a long while. Maybe it just felt that way because Leehwan was on edge. When the touch finally pulled away, it barely brushed against his lips before retreating as if by accident.

Just as he exhaled in quiet relief, a soft wet sound echoed in the silent room. The unmistakable sound of a kiss. Leehwan didn’t have to see it to know what Absalom was doing. His face grew hot.

Footsteps sounded again—Absalom was leaving. Leehwan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The door creaked open, allowing a faint light to spill into the room.

“Wait for me.”

Leaving behind those words, Absalom stepped out of the room and never returned. Leehwan, who had waited for him, only made his way home at the break of dawn.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

Despite the late hour, the separate palace was brightly lit. Murmurs of conversation filled the air.

“Sir Alexander! Where have you been all this time?”

A servant, upon spotting Leehwan, shouted. It was someone who had never once raised his voice in Leehwan’s presence. Momentarily taken aback, Leehwan was at a loss for words. The servant, unbothered, continued.

“You’ve been missing since last evening, and we searched for you everywhere. Please, come inside.”

His tone was oddly forceful. Leehwan assumed it was out of frustration from staying up all night searching for him. He figured he’d be just as upset in his place, so he obediently followed without complaint.

Just as he was about to climb the stairs leading to his bedroom on the second floor, he caught sight of a middle-aged man. Leehwan turned his head for a better look.

“Sir Wibaeng?”

Wibaeng, the knight personally assigned to Lucien’s close protection, was standing there. His presence here meant only one thing—Lucien had returned to the Imperial Palace.

Yet, despite making direct eye contact with Leehwan, Wibaeng did not so much as acknowledge him. Watching the knight’s retreating back, a strange sense of unease settled in Leehwan’s gut.

Even between lovers, visiting at this hour was inappropriate. So, Leehwan patiently waited long after daybreak before going to find Lucien. This time, a different servant greeted him.

“The Fifth Prince has gone to the main palace for a meeting. He is not here at the moment.”

“When did he return?”

“Last evening.”

Irritated by the servant’s failure to inform him earlier, Leehwan questioned him sharply—only to realize that everything was his own fault. Left with no choice, he turned away and walked back to his quarters in defeat.

At the time, he still believed he would see his lover soon. But their reunion was much further away than he expected.

Because exactly three days later, knights stormed in and threw him into prison.

The charges? Blasphemy and colluding with a foreign nation.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

The Imperial Palace’s underground prison, reserved for traitors and the gravest criminals, was eerily empty. Leehwan was locked in the innermost cell. Several guards wrestled him into place, chaining him tightly to the wall.

Leehwan tugged at his wrists. The thick chains wrapped around him clanked heavily. No matter how strong he was, breaking free from these bindings was impossible. As despair flickered in his eyes, the guards sneered.

“So much for being the ‘Messenger of God Iella.’ Can’t even break some chains made by mere humans?”

Leehwan did not respond. His mind was already too consumed with other thoughts to waste energy on their taunts.

‘Lucien.’

A powerless Fifth Prince from a lowly background. Lucien hadn’t even been granted the fief that was naturally given to a prince—at least, not until he became Leehwan’s lover.

What kind of situation was Lucien in right now? Was he being mistreated just because he was Leehwan’s lover? Endless negative thoughts consumed Leehwan’s mind. Could it be that the reason they hadn’t seen each other lately was because someone had imprisoned him?

And soon, he didn’t even have the luxury to think.

The jailers brought out all kinds of torture devices, pressing Leehwan for a confession and citing various pieces of “evidence.” Every single one of them was something he had never seen or heard of before. He denied it all. Then, the scent of burning flesh filled the prison.

The first thing was the mark of the criminal. Next were his fingernails.

After his fingernails, his toenails were taken as well. Then, they laid him down on a human-shaped torture rack, its surface lined with countless spikes. Soon, fresh, crimson blood seeped into the wood.

The jailers tied down Leehwan’s limp limbs with ropes. Just as one of them disappeared somewhere—

Creeeak—

The ropes suddenly yanked at Leehwan’s arms and legs. His joints dislocated with a sickening crack, and he swallowed a scream.

His fingers were crushed, his teeth broken.

Even so, he couldn’t nod in agreement. There was one face that overshadowed all the pain. If he was convicted, Lucien would be implicated as well. That, above all else, had to be avoided.

When he endured to the very end, it was the princes who visited next—the very ones who had always looked down on Lucien. They stomped on Leehwan’s head and sneered.

“You want to save Lucien, don’t you?”

In the end, Leehwan confessed to every single charge with his own lips.

A public trial for Leehwan was held in the plaza. The crowd that had gathered to watch faltered the moment they saw him. He looked far different from what they had imagined. But soon, they began to hurl insults and throw stones.

A fleeting memory passed through his mind—only months ago, he had stood here, showered in flower petals. And yet, not one person among them believed in him.

He had survived countless near-death experiences, wielded his sword while suppressing the fear that instinctively rose within him. And this was what he had earned in return. Leehwan stared blankly down at the people.

The trial finally began. One after another, people stepped forward to accuse him. Among them was Duku. The judge accepted the bundle of letters Duku handed over.

[People call me the Knight of Salvation. Some even say I am a Messenger of God Iella. Every time I step into that hollow space they call a cathedral—a place where not even a husk of God exists—I feel like retching. Surely, my true God will take pity on me for this.]

[The fools of this empire are no better than blind oxen. The moment I give the signal, they’ll charge forward without hesitation. It won’t be long before they shower me with flowers, even if I sever the Emperor’s head. And when that time comes, I will finally be able to spread the doctrine of the true God across this land.]

[Iella! Every time I am forced to praise that false god, my tongue feels like it is burning. Oh, my true God, watch over me, so that I may pass through this hell unscathed.]

Letters written in a language Leehwan didn’t even recognize testified against him.

A group of heretics stood beside him. They had been uncovered during the investigation and, under interrogation, confessed that they had cast a curse of death upon the Emperor under Leehwan’s orders. They were people Leehwan had never once seen in his entire life.

Yet, he admitted to all the charges and evidence. Because he believed this was the only way to save Lucien.