Garden of Joy C5

Chapter 5

Of course, if Heeseo was in pain, there was no way Hwan’s heart wouldn’t ache as well. In fact, it hurt even more—far more. Especially just moments ago, when the door to Heeseo’s room had opened and he was confronted with that already pale face turned frighteningly whiter still, gaunt and exhausted—his vision had nearly spun out of control.

So he was upset.

That damned, cursed law.

Because of that outdated, useless thing that served no purpose now, Hwan couldn’t even summon the closest and most capable doctor he knew. His frustration boiled over. And it wasn’t as though he could simply take Heeseo outside the palace to a hospital either. How could his insides not rot with resentment?

Part of him wanted to throw dignity aside altogether and collapse right there on the floor.

He even had the excessive urge to drag everyone in the palace over and make them take care of Heeseo. If he did that, not all of them, perhaps—but surely a few soft-hearted souls would indulge either Heeseo or himself.

But he could see it all too clearly.

If he did that, Heeseo would be furious. Disappointed.

That was what made it so suffocating. So unfair.

…Then what am I supposed to do?

You’re sick.

And all he was, as always, was a powerless excuse for a prince.

Normally, Hwan didn’t care what his position was, or what people around him said. So what if they talked? He never even blinked. It never mattered. But at a moment like this—when Heeseo was ill—being forced to realize that there was nothing he could do was unbearably miserable.

…This is pathetic.

His clenched fist ached as his nails dug into his palm.

Then, suddenly, another thought crossed his mind.

Yes, the situation was still hopeless. Utterly so. But the moment he realized that, because of it, he might actually be able to nurse Heeseo with his own hands, Hwan’s expression changed completely. Separate from all the bitterness and frustration, a rising excitement he couldn’t control crept up on him.

I get to take care of Heeseo. Me. Personally.

All this time, he had only ever clung to him—asking him to stay, to like him. And now, finally, however small it might be, he had found something he could do for him. To exaggerate just a little, it felt as though a great bell had rung loudly inside Hwan’s head.

If I earn some points like this… then maybe…

Maybe you’ll like me just a little more.

He even dared to dream such a sweet, secret dream.

Before long, however, Hwan ran headfirst into an obstacle he had never anticipated.

Jung Heeseo.

Absurdly enough, Jung Heeseo himself was the problem.

It was fine up to the point where he obediently followed Hwan in and sat on the bed. But just when it seemed he would go along with things, Heeseo brushed Hwan’s hand off his forehead and spoke.

“That’s enough. You can go now.”

“…What?”

Enough? And on top of that—go?

“What do you mean, go?”

Hwan, who had a mountain of things planned from this point on, stared at Heeseo with eyes blown wide, as though struck by lightning from a clear sky.

Of course, Heeseo had no idea what kind of resolve Hwan had come in with—how determined he was to care for him. Otherwise, there was no way he could so cruelly shatter this rare, pleasant daydream. But even so, Hwan had no intention of backing down.

“You—never mind. Let’s not even talk about it. You’re the patient. Just stay put and be taken care of.”

“What patient? It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine after sleeping it off, so stop making such a fuss.”

“A fuss?”

At Heeseo’s reaction—cool to the point of indifference—Hwan’s brow furrowed.

This conversation felt utterly different from what had happened in front of the palace attendant earlier.

For one thing, the “Your Highness” and polite endings Heeseo had used so carefully were gone. Worse still, right in front of a prince, he had dared to call his concern “making a fuss.” There was not a shred of courtesy left in his tone.

If even Heeseo’s father—the chief secretary, not to mention the royal elders—heard this, he might very well collapse on the spot, or worse, cut ties entirely.

And yet, this overly familiar manner of speaking was a small secret belonging only to the two of them—one that Hwan had painstakingly fought to earn since they were children.

But… he is Your Highness…

No, Heeseo. When it’s just us, we’re friends, remember?

That’s…

Not “Your Highness.” What do you call me?

…Hwan.

He had drilled it into him until Heeseo was sick of hearing it. And so, truth be told, Hwan was far more accustomed to—and fond of—this version of Heeseo than the one who addressed him politely.

The fact that they had a secret only the two of them shared, and that whenever they were alone their distance closed by a few bold steps, pleased him immensely.

Hwan.

When Heeseo called him that, he somehow became even prettier than usual, and Hwan’s heart would pound every single time.

But now—at least right now—Heeseo was so infuriating he could barely stand it.

He had called Hwan’s worry, his attempt to care for him, “making a fuss.” Where had he learned such awful words? The indignation was so great Hwan nearly slapped his own knee.

If he was too sick to even attend the event, that meant he was truly unwell—and yet he was pretending otherwise. That, too, was maddening.

“Then couldn’t you even send one message?”

The absurdity welled up in his chest, and the words spilled out before he could stop them.

Immediately, Hwan bit down hard on his lower lip.

He had just scolded someone who was sick.

It was a mistake. A terrible one. Who was he to blame anyone? The thought made him feel ridiculous.

While Heeseo had been suffering like this, what had he been doing?

Pouting like a child. Sulking. And yet he dared to reproach him.

Once again, Hwan felt painfully aware of his own immaturity.

I really haven’t grown at all.

Momentarily crushed, he hurriedly glanced at Heeseo’s face. Even if Heeseo found him contemptible, he had no right to complain.

“I—I mean….”

Fortunately, Heeseo didn’t seem to take it seriously. He simply reached for the phone on the bedside table, checking it idly. When he saw the mountain of missed calls and messages, he paused, momentarily at a loss for words.

“…Sorry. I fell asleep.”

The quiet apology came out awkwardly.

That’s not what I was trying to get an apology for…

Seeing Heeseo lower his head like that only made Hwan’s heart ache even more.

“Does that mean you take it out on innocent people?”

“Huh…?”

Just three seconds after apologizing, Heeseo narrowed his eyes sharply. Hwan couldn’t help but panic.

“No, that’s not—”

So it wasn’t going to end there after all.

It was obvious he was referring to the incident where Hwan had raised his voice at the palace attendant. This time, Hwan’s voice shrank.

“I was just so startled, and worried about you…”

He stole a glance at Heeseo’s expression, but there was no opening at all. Faced with that piercing gaze, Hwan was completely helpless.

“…I messed up, didn’t I?”

He clasped his hands neatly in front of himself, meekly tucking his tail between his legs.

If one were to nitpick, he wasn’t entirely without grievance—but no matter how one looked at it, this was a losing battle. Even if it was out of concern, it was true that he’d done something Heeseo disliked. Making excuses now would only hurt him further.

Unwilling to lose any more points, Hwan flattened himself completely.

“I’m sorry.”

Still, Heeseo didn’t say anything.

He almost wished Heeseo would scold him. The brief silence was somehow more painful, and Hwan’s restless gaze darted everywhere. Should he confess everything, starting from sulking at the ceremony? Would that ease things even a little?

His thoughts were in a tangle when he suddenly remembered something more urgent.

“…At least lie down. Do it lying down.”

It might sound ridiculous, but he was asking Heeseo to scold him while lying down. Judging by the situation, Heeseo had likely been asleep until recently, and Hwan didn’t want him pushing himself to sit up while sick—just because of him.

Of course, if one asked who had angered his already aching body, Hwan had no excuse. That was precisely why he couldn’t back down.

At the very least, he wanted to keep him from getting worse.

“I’ll get scolded as much as you want, okay?”

Holding his hands and coaxing him gently, Hwan pleaded. At last, Heeseo sighed and nodded, as though he had no choice. But just as Hwan felt relieved, the small sigh Heeseo let out made his heart drop.

You shouldn’t expect Heeseo to always play along with you.

The words of his eldest brother, Kang, surfaced again, unbidden.

…No. That can’t be.

After all the years we’ve spent together.

Even as he tried to reassure himself, the unease lingered. After wetting his lips several times in secret, Hwan finally gathered the courage to ask—though it wasn’t the question he truly wanted to ask.

“…Does it hurt a lot?”

“No.”

His voice cracked ever so slightly as he answered, yet Heeseo insisted flatly that it didn’t. Someone else might think him cold, even heartless—but Hwan knew better.

He had to know.

The reason Heeseo couldn’t even say that he was in pain—

It was because of Hwan himself.