"do you... trust me?" it's a low whisper, the king's soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never...
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With her hands planted firmly on her stout hips, Jin-young-nim stands before you with a look of slight exasperation stretched across her features. Her mouth is moving, but you can't exactly hear what she's saying. All sound seems to have faded out, replaced with a heady buzzing that some part of you recognizes as shock as it infiltrates your mind, leaving your own mouth agape. You can do little more than blink and remember to breathe for several long moments until the silver chopsticks you were holding clatter to the table, finally pulling you from the daze.
"The wedding... is... off?"
Your voice sounds so far away; you can't believe the words even as you say them.
"Finally! You understand me!" Jin-young cries with relief.
"I don't— What? No... It can't be true."
"But it is! The match has been broken off."
You shake your head in disbelief.
You'd seen Beom-su just yesterday, merrily taking her afternoon tea in the pavilion where you once sat with the king. Though you tried to limit your stare for your own self-preservation, she had clearly looked happy. After all, she had no reason not to be smiling — the grand wedding was planned for next week. Was.
"Didn't you hear all the commotion today?" Jin-young finally takes a seat, setting her arms on the table.
"No, I've been working here since morning." You've been spending more and more time with your research, letting it distract you from more... obtrusive things.
"Oh, child. You've missed so much. Early afternoon, two eunuchs found Beom-su-nim's father, the esteemed Minister, in the storage room."
Your eyebrows furrow. What's the fuss about that?
Jin-young's gaze glints. "He was forcing kisses upon a maid!"
Shit. Oh, shit.
Jin-young looks highly amused at the gasp that falls from your mouth. "Jeonha immediately stripped him of his position. And there is no possibility of jeonha marrying the daughter after all this scandal."
...The king will not be married.
You are grateful for the back of this chair. Without it, you would have likely fallen to the floor with the emotions crashing into you, of which relief makes up more than half. The king will not be married. You grip the table hard, but you barely feel the stiffness of your fingers as you try not to acknowledge how your heart rate doubles, renewed with a childish dream you thought you had buried.
It is a week after the incident that the king summons you to his official meeting chambers.
To say you go with a hopeful heart is an understatement.
You spend the entire night before imagining how this first meeting in months will go, now that the wedding has been indefinitely postponed. (The people seem to trust him more anyway, after hearing of the way he removed the corrupt Minister without hesitation. You are selfishly thankful, for it quells talk of another, immediate engagement.) Will he smile at you, and call your name? Will he invite you for tea? Will things between you return to how they were half a year ago, with the casual intimacy of laughter and shared, warm afternoons and witty quips that you can still recall so clearly?
You are, of course, aware of how silly your fantasies are. When Jin-young had first brought you the news, it felt like you'd used up every ounce of luck in one fell swoop. And it's not as if Beom-su's absence changes your rank, or his. Your lives were always meant to be separate, somehow miraculously linked together by only the most tenuous of coincidences. But still, something in you whispers. But still.
The guards step aside and you enter the king's chambers with all these thoughts crowding your mind and then everything just seems to stop and disappear when he brings his dark eyes up to yours.
"Su-uinyeo-nim."
"Jeonha." You bow deeply. "How may I help you?"
He leans back, sunlight catching the strands of his hair. "My mother." It is not what you wanted to hear, but you don't let it show. "You examine her health weekly, do you not?"
"Yes, that is correct. She has been in fine spirits every week, and I have seen no major changes in her health."
He nods. "From today on, you are to report directly to me every other week about her condition."
Oh? "Is... Is there anything I should be looking for in particular, jeonha?"
"No. She simply seems more tired as of late, and so I would like to be more informed."
You almost smile at his care. "I see. Then I will work to the best of my ability, jeonha."
"Good."
Was that all he called you here for? A simple task? You fiddle with your fingers as the silence between you settles in. Part of you wants to say something about his marriage, perhaps condolences, but you're afraid that would reveal too much about your true elation. Is he upset about the broken union, or is he relieved? You can't read the expressions on his face anymore. The space between you seems to stretch further with each of your nervous breaths.
"Um," you eventually mumble, "is there anything else you require?" Please.
"No, that is all for today."
Oh. "Alright. I understand. I shall, er, take my leave then." You try not to sound too disappointed that your meeting hasn't even lasted five measly minutes. He is the king. He is busy, much too busy to chat with you. If he even wants to now, that is. "Good day, jeonha."
Then you hear it, as you are stepping out of the room. A quiet "thank you" followed your name, uttered so softly it almost doesn't register if you hadn't been hoping so fervently for it. But it's not meant to call you back. It's merely a parting gift.
One of your silly fantasies has come true, yet it still doesn't feel like enough.
Over the next few months, you do come to appreciate these reports, brief as they are. You never exchange more than the words that are necessary, though sometimes you grow bold enough to extend a pleasantry that he curtly answers. Sometimes the queen asks you to bring him a few things on your way, as if she wants to help extend your precious minutes by a few seconds more. You take the chance. You take anything you can get, even while telling yourself to do better, to stop holding on to things that are long gone. Beom-su may not remain, but the distance she created remains present in your every interaction. So you can only remind yourself over and over that he is the king, no longer the... friend that you knew.
But at the very least, these visits prove that he still trusts you enough to take care of the queen.
And while this distant role of physician may now be the only position you hold in his eyes, it is better, so much better than not being close to him at all.
