CHAPTER 76
As Sihyun stepped through the grand entrance, arm brushing Yuhyun's, the entire hall seemed to pause. The chatter faded into silence, all heads turning toward the doorway.
He stopped just short of the first step, his breath caught in his throat. The sight before him was unlike anything he had ever known—crystal chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, golden ornaments shimmered on the walls, and nobles in fine robes stood beside long, decorated tables lined with plates of glistening fruit, roast, and wine.
But none of it compared to the eyes. So many eyes. Watching him.
At the far end of the room, the King sat in his elevated seat, face unreadable but gaze locked directly on him. Around him stood high ministers, warriors, and nobles of every rank.
And beside them—Muwon.
He was dressed in the deep colors of royalty, his dark robe trimmed with gold. But it wasn't the clothes that made him stand out. It was the way his expression softened the moment his eyes found Sihyun.
Muwon had seen him in many ways before—wounded, furious, defiant. But now, standing in the ceremonial robe he had picked out earlier that day, framed by the warm light of the palace, Sihyun looked different.
He looked like someone who belonged here.
Muwon couldn't take his eyes off him. The nervous tension in Sihyun's posture, the unsure way he held himself, the way he subtly leaned toward Yuhyun—it all only made Muwon's chest tighten. He'd never wanted to walk across a room so badly in his life.
Dohyun, standing near Muwon, leaned in with a knowing grin.
"Told you he'd look good. You're staring like you've never seen him before."
"Shut up,"
Muwon muttered back, but his lips betrayed him with a smile.
Taejin crossed his arms with a smirk.
"If your heart bursts in public, do we call a healer or just declare it a love story?"
Muwon didn't answer. He stepped forward instead, closing the distance between them with slow, measured steps. The hall remained silent, watching.
Sihyun braced instinctively as Muwon approached—but then the prince stopped in front of him and simply held out his hand.
"You made it,"
Muwon said quietly, only for him to hear.
Sihyun's fingers twitched by his side. Then slowly, uncertainly, he placed his hand in Muwon's.
"I'm here,"
he replied, trying to sound steady.
Muwon gave a faint nod, then turned toward the crowd.
"Everyone,"
he announced, voice strong but calm,
"this is Sihyun. The one who risked his life to protect this palace—and all of us."
The hall erupted into respectful applause. Some bowed their heads. Others murmured words of gratitude.
Sihyun, still gripping Muwon's hand, stood frozen as the sound rolled over him like a wave. He didn't know how to respond—how to be the center of so much attention without shrinking.
Yuhyun, standing behind them, gave him a thumbs-up and a quiet smile. It helped.
Muwon leaned in again, lowering his voice.
"You don't have to smile. You don't have to say anything. Just be with me. That's enough."
Sihyun blinked at him. Then, after a pause, he nodded slightly—his heart still racing, but steadying with Muwon at his side.
The feast was in full swing.
Laughter rippled across the golden-lit hall. Nobles raised their goblets, exchanging stories, wine flowing like a river. Servers glided between tables with plates of roasted boar, sweet rice cakes, glazed duck, and delicate rolls of seasoned fish.
Sihyun sat beside Muwon at the long central table, straight-backed and stiff, his hands clenched under the ornate tablecloth. His ceremonial robe—deep black with hints of crimson threaded through the sleeves—still felt too heavy, like he was wearing someone else's skin.
Then came the nobles.
One by one, they approached him between bites of food and sips of drink—some with warm, respectful smiles, others with an almost curious reverence in their tone.
"Thank you for protecting the prince. You have our deepest gratitude."
"I heard you took down Vanyul with your own hands. Incredible…"
"So young… and yet so powerful. You truly are something rare."
Each word of praise pressed down on Sihyun like a weight. He barely managed nods, his lips twitching toward polite smiles that never quite formed. His eyes kept darting around the hall like a trapped animal's, searching for a corner to disappear into.
Muwon noticed. He reached beneath the table and placed a firm hand on Sihyun's knee—a quiet grounding presence. Sihyun glanced at him, meeting a small, reassuring smile. It helped. A little.
Yuhyun, seated nearby, caught his eye and raised his goblet in a mock toast with a small wink, mouthing, You're doing fine. Sihyun rolled his eyes in response but appreciated the gesture.
Just as he began to gather his breath again, a hush began to fall over the hall.
The King had stood.
Clad in full royal regalia, his presence alone demanded silence. He raised a golden goblet, the reflection of the firelight dancing in his eyes.
"I ask for a moment,"
the King's voice rang clear, calm, and commanding.
"Tonight is not simply a feast—it is a celebration of the one among us who, despite bearing the mark of a cursed bloodline, risked everything to protect this kingdom."
A ripple of murmurs flowed through the crowd. Sihyun's shoulders tensed.
The King continued, his gaze fixed solely on Sihyun.
"Though born a demon sorcerer, this young man chose mercy. He chose to save instead of destroy. And he saved my son's life—again and again."
Sihyun felt like the floor might open and swallow him whole.
The King raised his goblet higher.
"To Sihyun. May history remember not what he is—but who he chose to be."
All around the room, nobles and courtiers stood one by one, following suit.
"To Sihyun!"
echoed through the chamber like thunder.
Sihyun froze. Every goblet was raised to him. Every eye was on him again. His throat tightened, unsure whether to cry, run, or melt into his chair.