It’s Not Night - Chapter 200.1

Side Story: Hydrangea Garden

‘You must love that person, it’s your fate.’

Living in a state of half-death, the woman always seemed to live by repeating the words that she should love him. And every time, it made Yona want to ask, “And you?”

But Yona had never voiced that question. It wasn’t a question for her, but a reflection she threw at herself.

She merely nodded every time.

* * *

The Emperor visited the hydrangea garden early one morning. There was no particular reason for the visit. The anniversary was approaching, and the timing aligned with the blooming of the hydrangeas.

A garden full of hydrangeas was the perfect place for quiet reflection and passing time.

“The weather is nice.”

Lately, the sun had been especially warm. The hydrangeas, soaking in the moisture, shimmered beautifully under the light. As the Emperor entered the garden, the gardeners who were watering the plants bowed in respect. The Emperor acknowledged their greetings and continued deeper into the garden.

Through the colorful hydrangeas, a gazebo came into view, which had once been the man’s place of rest. The Emperor casually settled into one of the two chairs beneath the gazebo, and her attendants began unloading her belongings. The chief attendant soon followed, setting up a tea tray and beginning to pour the tea.

In the peaceful garden, the sound of tea being poured was the only sound that echoed through the air. The Emperor leaned back in her chair, slowly surveying the surroundings. Her eyes immediately fell on a second chair next to her.

The chairs were originally crafted as a pair, intended for the Emperor and the Prince Consort. Unfortunately, it was rare for both chairs to be used. During the Prince Consort’s lifetime, the Emperor rarely visited the garden.

The Emperor stared at the worn armrest of the chair, where the Prince Consort’s touch had once lingered, then quickly turned her head away.

The garden had been a place the Prince Consort frequented with his cane. After he closed his eyes, however, nothing in the garden had changed. The man had left it just as she had gifted it to him, even though he had spent so much of his life here.

When she thought about it, it seemed almost ironic.

No one had changed the Emperor’s life as much as he had.

While the Emperor sipped her tea, the chief attendant brought a letter. The letter, delicately placed on a red velvet cloth, caught the Emperor’s eye. Without hesitation, she picked it up.

[To dearest Mother…]

The neat handwriting, much like her father’s, caught her attention. The Emperor read the letter for a long time, taking a sip of tea.

“Looks like Regina has departed.”

“I’ll make preparations for the Duelen Castle.”

“Yes.”

The Emperor slowly closed her eyes. The gentle breeze rustled her red hair, causing it to sway lightly.

As sleep overtook her, someone’s voice seemed to slip into her thoughts.

* * *

“Your Highness.”

Yona opened her eyes. A large shadow loomed over her. A young man, still shedding the last traces of his youth, was looking down at her with a concerned expression.

“You’re sweating coldly…”

He hesitated, offering her a handkerchief.

Yona raised her hand and touched her forehead. Cold sweat clung to her hair, which stuck to her skin. Her back, touching the ground, was also damp. When had she fallen asleep? She gazed up at the sky without accepting the handkerchief the Lord offered.

Above, the bright sun hung in the blue sky, almost blinding in its intensity. She must have dozed off after her practice here. She was lucky to have woken before the sun rose any higher.

After a moment, the Lord hesitated before sitting down beside her. Still looking up at the sky, Yona spoke, having heard the sound of the wooden sword hanging from his waist.

“Zeon, why are you holding a sword?”

“…I don’t know. Everyone says I should, so…”

“You always give the easy answers.”

Yona opened her palm and held it up. The sunlight, which had been shining brightly, was now blocked by her hand, casting a shadow across her face.

“Is it too bright for you? Should I get an umbrella…?”

Yona raised her hand to stop the Lord from calling for an attendant. She then looked up at him.

Not long ago, he had been a crybaby, but now, with a few more years, he had started shedding his childish demeanor and showing more of his manly side. He had even grown a bit taller than Yona. His expression, still a bit silly and naive, remained unchanged.

When the Lord met her gaze, he faltered. It seemed like he had something he wanted to ask, so Yona gently encouraged him.

“You look like you have a question. You can ask.”

“I… I wonder, Your Highness, why do you hold a sword?”

The Lord asked carefully. It was understandable, given that the youngest princess, who had no need to endure hardship, insisted on holding a sword herself.

Yona paused for a moment, then answered in a voice that sounded a little weaker.

“I… hold a sword to protect.”

“What is it that you are protecting?”

“….”

What is it that she was protecting?

Yona silently looked at the calluses on her hand, the result of gripping a sword. Her hands had been blistered and torn from holding the weapon.