A Hearty Meal

The moment Miye’s voice had rung out across the arena, he knew what he had done.

The sight of Yugwon slaughtering another human was already despicable to him. He did not wish to witness another murder… again.

He had chosen mercy over silence, and in doing so, he had shattered the Prince of Hwachon’s pride before the eyes of the entire world.

He watched Yugwon now, whose head remained lowered, refusing to look at him. Even without eye contact, Miye knew exactly how the Prince felt. He had lived beside the man long enough to understand the weight of that stillness, the lethal danger hidden in the absence of immediate wrath. To humiliate the Prince for the sake of a foreigner he had never even met was an unforgivable transgression.

And so, that night, the summons came.

Miye walked to the royal chambers slowly, quietly. Thoughts raced through his mind, each more dire than the last. Is this the end? Will I finally die by this monster’s hand?

He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "I wonder where that bird flew away..."

The moment he entered the Prince’s chambers, Miye knelt. He pressed his forehead to the cold floor, his body trembling like a fragile branch beneath a sudden frost.

"Please forgive me," he said, his voice barely holding together. "I spoke out of turn. I am willing to accept any punishment -"

"Stand."

The command cut through the room like a blade.

Yugwon reclined upon his bed, draped in a loose inner robe that hung open, revealing a powerful, muscular frame. His black hair spilled over broad shoulders like ink across silk. Smoke curled lazily from the pipe between his fingers, the air thick with a cloying sweetness, the scent of burnt brown sugar that made Miye’s head ache.

The Prince’s eyes gleamed in the dim light, his gaze as dark, cruel, and amused as a serpent’s. Miye rose slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"I admire that you realized your mistake," Yugwon said softly. "But mistakes must be corrected. Otherwise... they grow."

Miye’s fingers curled tightly into his sleeves.

"You are precious to me," Yugwon continued, rising at last. "And precious things must be shaped carefully. Preserved perfectly."

The smoke Miye had tried not to inhale grew stronger as the Prince walked directly toward him. Before Miye could retreat, hands seized him. His waist was grabbed abruptly, and his chin was forced upward to meet the eyes he had tried so hard to avoid. Instinctively, Miye flinched, bracing himself for a blow.

However, the strike never came. Instead, the Prince asked with a strange, low voice,

"Do I scare you?"

His voice was deep, perhaps intoxicated by liquor or the pipe he smoked.

Why isn't he doing anything? Miye wondered. 

It was unnerving for Yugwon to behave with such gentle restraint when the person responsible for the greatest humiliation of his life was standing right there, wrapped in his arms.

Miye didn't respond. What could he say? Of course, Yugwon was terrifying! But he didn't dare admit it. Who knew what this mad Prince would do with the truth?

"Never mind." Yugwon let go, turning away and staggering slightly from the intoxication.

He walked toward the covered soban with a white cloth. He pulled the fabric away, revealing a freshly prepared meal that was still steaming. 

Yugwon turned back toward the pale figure, "Come. You haven’t eaten anything, have you?"

A lump formed in Miye’s throat, making it difficult to even swallow his own saliva. And now the Prince expected him to swallow food? 

He had no choice. He nodded slowly and walked toward the table, kneeling with his back straight. Yugwon followed, sitting loosely with one knee pulled up, his chin resting on his hand as he watched Miye.

Before Miye, a vibrant array of food was displayed: a bowl of curry dumplings, a small dish of red pickled cabbage, a large bowl of spicy braised chicken soup with rice noodles, a bowl of sticky rice, and finally, a small plate of flower-shaped sugar dessert.

Mandu-guk, kimchi, Dakgaejang, and Yakgwa?

This had to be a dream! Miye had not tasted Dakgaejang since before his mother became the Queen. Though her version had been poorly made, it was his favorite meal of all time. Spicy food was typically forbidden for a royal of his standing, making the delicacies of a common man impossible to reach. How he had longed for even a whim of these flavors... and now, they were laid out before him to feast. 

I truly must be dreaming, he thought.

"Do you not like it?" Yugwon tilted his head, resting a hand on his cheek. "I had these prepared specifically for you. I know you like spicy food."

Miye’s hesitation finally spoke out, "Your Highness, I do not understand. I made a grave mistake. Should you not be punishing me...?"

"Ah, you’re right," the Prince feigned a thoughtful look. "But why don't we eat first?"

Everything remained a mystery, but who cares? If food was being offered, there was no reason to refuse, especially when it consisted of every one of your favorite dishes. 

"Then, I shall eat, Your Highness." Picking up the wooden spoon with slender fingers, he scooped a healthy portion of the red soup and sipped.

The taste was marvelous. So good. So warm, so nostalgic, that it flushed his fair cheeks with a rosy hue. Along with the spice, a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. 

He didn't know why the Prince had suffered a sudden change of heart, or what he might be conspiring, but in this moment, Miye was simply grateful. Even if a terrible punishment awaited him, he would endure it for a hearty meal like this. 

He ate everything, despite his thin frame. It was as if he sensed he might never taste such things again.