Garden of Joy C4

Chapter 4

Watching Hwan stride inside alone after dismissing all who followed him, the few palace attendants remaining in the residence showed no sign of surprise. When their paths crossed, they merely paused to exchange brief, formal bows, then calmly returned to their own duties.

In truth, they knew all too well that interfering any further would only invite needless trouble.

After winding his way through such twists and turns, Hwan finally arrived before Heeseo’s door and lifted a hand to his flushed cheeks.

…At last.

The moment of facing that infuriating Jung Heeseo again had finally come.

What should I scold him for?

No—of course, it wasn’t as if he could ever truly scold Heeseo. The thought alone made his heart thump lightly, an inexplicable cheer rising within him.

Just as he was about to knock, however, the door clicked open first—and Hwan froze in shock as an unfamiliar palace attendant stepped out.

“…What?”

Why were they coming out of there?

The fleeting question was instantly drowned by a surge of emotion with a very clear name: jealousy.

…What were you doing in Heeseo’s room?

Rationally, Hwan knew better.

There must’ve been some other reason.

Most likely, they’d come on an errand from the elders.

And yet, no matter how much he tried to soothe himself, the sulky feelings that kept leaping up within him refused to be held back—falling short by just a hair’s breadth. He knew it was unsightly, but even something this trivial made him jealous.

You didn’t even send me a single message.

Whatever the circumstances, the thought that Heeseo might have been chatting and laughing with someone else during the time Hwan had been waiting so desperately left a bitter ache in his chest. His lips puckered unconsciously just then.

Perhaps his expression looked far more ominous than he realized, for the palace attendant facing him visibly startled, even stepping back in alarm.

That, too, displeased Hwan.

…Why are you so startled? What crime did you commit?

Once his mood soured, even the smallest things irritated him. The attendant’s reaction felt like mockery. For a moment, Hwan was tempted to seize the poor soul and vent his anger indiscriminately.

But he stopped himself—because his gaze fell on the small tray the attendant was carrying.

More precisely, on the empty glass and the torn medicine packet resting atop it.

Medicine?

Hwan blinked once, then twice, as the pieces fell into place.

Jung Heeseo, unreachable all this time.
And now, this.

Even for someone as reckless as Hwan, connecting these ominous signs was not difficult.

“…Heeseo is sick. Isn’t he?”

The certainty in Hwan’s expression cooled rapidly, growing sharper than before.

If that were true, then a single scrap of medicine like this wouldn’t be nearly enough.

He didn’t know where Heeseo hurt—but that only made it more urgent to summon the royal physician. Time was of the essence. And yet, seeing the attendant standing there hesitantly instead of running at once left Hwan incredulous.

“What are you standing around for? Go and bring the royal physician immediately!”

“But, Your Highness… that is….”

“But what?”

As Hwan snapped impatiently, the attendant’s face drained of color.

From the attendant’s perspective, Hwan’s devotion to Heeseo was common knowledge. How could anyone not know? Having watched them so closely, he knew it better than most. But even so, this was a different matter.

The royal physician was not a title bestowed lightly.

No matter how diminished the imperial family’s authority had become, allowing a royal physician to examine someone who was not of royal blood—Heeseo—was not something to be taken lightly. If word leaked outside, another uproar was inevitable.

Worse still, Heeseo himself might suffer the consequences.

Hwan should have known this as well. Yet, overcome by immediate worry, he pressed unreasonably forward, leaving the attendant utterly trapped.

“Are you saying my words don’t even count as words now—!”

Just as Hwan’s thunderous shout crashed down upon the attendant, there came another click—the sound of Heeseo’s door opening once more.

In that instant, the attendant had the absurd impression that Hwan’s ears practically perked up, like some spirit or goblin. His reaction was that swift. The words he’d been about to hurl died in his throat, as though they no longer mattered.

Because the subject of all this commotion had finally appeared.

“Heeseo.”

Hwan called him in a voice soft and aching.

Heeseo, who seemed to have already grasped the situation from the noise outside, swallowed a sigh. Even so, Hwan’s face melted completely at the sight of him.

“Your Highness.”

“Yes. Heeseo.”

At that quiet exchange alone, Hwan instantly became a large, gentle puppy, ready to offer a paw at the slightest prompt.

Such a dramatic reversal was possible only because the other party was Heeseo.

True to his well-known reputation, he was Hwan’s sole safety pin—and to the flustered attendant, nothing short of a savior.

Normally, upon appearing like this, Heeseo would have launched straight into scolding Hwan. At the very least, he never spared him when it came to mistakes unbecoming of a prince. By any measure, Hwan’s behavior earlier had gone far beyond the line.

Yet today, for some reason, Heeseo merely looked at him for a moment—then suddenly let out an exaggerated cough.

Cough.

‘What is this?’

To the watching attendant, the act looked painfully unnatural. That one could convey such blatant bad acting with just the sound cough was, in its own way, impressive. He assumed Hwan would surely see through it as well.

But somehow—

Whether Hwan truly lacked awareness, or simply pretended to, he took one look at Heeseo’s awkward display and instantly turned pale, springing up in alarm.

“Why did you push yourself to come out like this? Your face is practically half gone!”

“…It was noisy outside, Your Highness. Did something happen?”

“No? What could’ve happened. Nothing at all.”

“…Is that so?”

As if.

There was no way Heeseo wouldn’t see through such a flimsy excuse. Yet once again, after a brief silence, he let it pass. His uncharacteristic behavior left both Hwan and the attendant staring in confusion.

“Your Highness, but I’m feeling a bit….”

Abruptly, Heeseo leaned his head heavily against Hwan’s shoulder.

“H-Heeseo?”

It was an awkward gesture by any measure, yet Hwan stiffened completely, at a loss for what to do.

…What is he doing?

For Heeseo to initiate contact like this—especially in front of others—was exceedingly rare. At that point, even Hwan couldn’t help but sense something was off. Like a child uneasy after being rewarded despite wrongdoing, he kept glancing at Heeseo’s face.

Is he plotting something?

He did suspect it—briefly.

But only briefly.

…Or is he really so sick he can’t even hold his head up?

At the end of that thought, Hwan’s heart dropped heavily.

That’s serious. I have to do something—now!

Yet contrary to his urgency, his ears burned red, betraying the frantic pounding in his chest. He knew this wasn’t the time to feel this way.

And yet—he couldn’t help it.

Just a single tilt of the head was enough to steal his wits away.

“Ahem—cough—well, then, let’s hurry inside and lie down.”

Clearing his throat repeatedly, Hwan gently drew Heeseo closer by the shoulder and was about to usher him into the room. At that moment, Heeseo, who had seemed ready to follow, cast a quick glance toward the attendant standing there in a daze.

It was clearly a signal to leave while there was a chance.

…Ah, I see!

Only then did the attendant realize that Heeseo’s uncharacteristic behavior had all been to divert Hwan’s attention. At last understanding, he bowed deeply several times in silent gratitude.

As the attendant vanished down the corridor like a gust of wind, the day’s troublesome situation seemed, once again, to pass without incident.

Heeseo might not have known it, but among the palace staff, another tale of his quiet heroics had just been added.

In truth, all Heeseo had done was follow Hwan inside, sit where he was led, and behave quietly. Yet that alone seemed to erase all memory of the earlier chaos from Hwan’s mind.

From the corners of his mouth to his cheekbones, his shoulders to his very mood—everything that could possibly lift was lifted. The transparency of it all was so amusing that a small laugh slipped from Heeseo’s lips.

Oblivious, Hwan was deep in earnest contemplation.

What do I do now?

He was dizzy, so first lie him down—and then?

There was too much he could think of, too much he wanted to do.

He already took medicine… but he was coughing. Should I bring some warm water? Something sweet might help. I should go to the Saenggwabang too. Does he have a fever? Do I need a cool cloth?

Hwan placed his hand on Heeseo’s forehead to check his temperature, his shoulders trembling slightly.