FYH Chapter 72

The day after his fight with Lee-Jae, Roderick came to see her—to apologize.

But the head lady-in-waiting stopped him.

“Her Majesty the Queen is unwell.”

“Hailey? What’s wrong? How bad is it?”

Shocked, the King moved to open the door at once, but the lady-in-waiting quickly intervened.

“She wishes to be alone.”

“…Are you seriously trying to stop me right now?”

Deborah dropped to her knees and bowed deeply.

“Never, Your Majesty. No one in Cayenne could stop you if you chose to enter. I merely relayed Her Majesty’s wishes.”

“…Has the physician come by?”

“…”

“So they haven’t?”

“…”

“Is she even really sick?”

A storm of conflicting emotions hit him—hurt from being turned away, and relief that she might not be physically ill.

He hesitated at the door but ultimately turned away without going in.

Yet when the same scene repeated itself day after day, Roderick—and everyone around him—began to realize just how serious things were.

Once again, the King came by today and knocked on the door.

“Hailey. Can we talk?”

No response.

At this point, he even wondered if she was really inside.

“Then at least say something. You don’t have to show your face.”

His voice was tight with urgency.

“Hailey, you’re not sick… right? Okay, I get it. Just say something if you’re okay.”

He’d started to turn to leave—but turned back.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry. Just give me a chance to say that. …I really miss your face.”

The people nearby fell silent, bowing their heads.

Their King sounded like a man desperately pleading for love to a door that wouldn’t open.

But still, the door remained shut.

The Queen gave no reply.

Roderick turned to Deborah.

“Is she at least eating properly?”

“…Yes, she is.”

“She’s not hurt or anything?”

“…No, she’s not.”

Roderick gave a small nod.

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Lee-Jae was completely absorbed in her carving. The spirit of the chest sat atop the table, watching her, while Roderick’s voice carried faintly into the room. Hearing it, Lee-Jae let out a sigh.

Even so, her hands holding the carving knife never stopped moving.

“Why did I get so defensive? So ugly about it… I always end up regretting it later. I should be more careful with my words, but no matter how much I try, it doesn’t go well.”

— Then just see him and make up.

“…”

— Humans do that thing called a handshake, right? It means they don’t want to hurt each other.

Lee-Jae nodded slowly.

“Yeah, that’s true. But… I can’t face him right now. My heart still feels too… sad.”

The spirit joined in her sadness.

— Why is Lee-Jae sad?

“It’s hard to admit that I’m lacking. But once I tell myself everything was my fault, things feel a little easier.”

— Then do whatever feels easier when you’re ready.

Lee-Jae lowered her gaze, her eyes full of sorrow.

There was nothing she could do—so she simply kept carving.

What she was making was a pair of guardian totems—Heavenly Great General and Earthly General—to be placed in the King’s quarters.

She’d resented this ability her whole life.

But in the end, this was the only thing she could do for others.

It was the only way she knew how to give.

Whenever she had a moment, she wrote talismans too.

She couldn’t predict the future.

Sometimes she saw glimpses, but never the kind of vast, sweeping destiny people imagined.

She’d known her limits from the start.

Still, a nagging instinct kept surfacing—the feeling that she might die.

And from a worldly point of view, it was possible they might part ways.

Lee-Jae’s spirit was low, but even if she weren’t in that future, she wished the King would always be alright.

— I’m always on Lee-Jae’s side.

“You know, you don’t have a nose, but you’re pretty clever and sweet, huh?”

— Of course!

“Where I used to live, there was this story we told children.”

— What kind of story?

“It was about a boy whose nose grew longer every time he told a lie.”

— Really?

“Yep. But since your charm is not having a nose… can you promise not to lie, like me?”

— Okay! Got it! I won’t lie! My charm is having no nose, after all!

The spirit puffed up proudly. Lee-Jae smiled at the sight.

And silently, she kept carving—doing the best she could.

 

The Queen emerged from her room after four days.

Carrying the Guardian totems and talismans, Lee-Jae approached Deborah and asked first:

“Has His Majesty gone to the meeting?”

“Yes, he just stepped in.”

“How long will it take?”

“Usually a couple of hours, but… shall I inform him? He’ll surely come right away.”

Deborah hesitated, then added something she felt the Queen deserved to know.

“Your Majesty… His Majesty has come two or three times every single day. …He was truly worried about you.”

Lee-Jae considered for a moment, then shook her head.

“Is there any way you could not tell him I came out? Please… don’t let him know.”

Deborah and the other ladies-in-waiting found the Queen’s behavior truly strange.

They were all bound to the Queen’s fate—but it was undeniable that her fate was now bound with the King’s too.

At times, they simply couldn’t understand her.

Even so, Deborah replied without hesitation:

“I shall escort Your Majesty.”

Lee-Jae expected trouble at the King’s chamber. After all, she had unintentionally made a fool out of him last time. She felt awkward, even guilty. Unlike before, she couldn’t confidently push the door open.

Hesitating, she asked:

“Would it be alright… if I go in?”

But the guards opened the doors without a word.

They weren’t blind.

The King had asked after the Queen daily—multiple times—and spoke of her whenever he had a chance.

At this point, barring the Queen would have been the fastest way to get dismissed.

As she stepped inside, Lee-Jae looked around the room.

Was this the work of a spirit?

There were only two lingering spirits today.

She brought her hands together and offered a silent prayer of thanks, then turned to face the Yeomra statue.

“You really are the masterpiece of my life. I guess if something looks properly terrifying, people hesitate. That’s the key—setting the tone.”

She patted the fearsome statue several times, murmuring that it had done well.

Then, as usual, she approached the bedside—and froze.

The Earthly General, which had been snapped in half, was now standing upright.

It had been clumsily glued back together, grotesque and pitiful.

But tears instantly welled in Lee-Jae’s eyes.

“What are you doing…”

This won’t hold power like this.

It’s broken. It’s no use.

So why—why would you do something like this?

“I told you to throw it away…”

She kept wiping her tears as they fell.

Even when the carving broke, the King hadn’t been able to part with it. Because it had been made with her hands, with care.

And now Lee-Jae couldn’t throw it away either.

Because it now held his heart.

She gently placed the cracked Earthly General and the broken carving into her pouch.

And in their place, she set down the new figures she had worked on tirelessly over the past few days.

“You’re going to be alright. I’m always wishing that with everything I have.”

Your Majesty.

Maybe someday, you might cast me aside.

I’ve ruined past lives over the despair and rage that thought brought me.

But now—I want to stop blaming anyone.

Because this isn’t anyone’s fault.

What is clear is this:

No matter what happens, I will never betray you.

I will always be your friend.

Thank you for continuing to speak to me throughout this lonely life.

Lee-Jae smiled for a moment, her face still lonely.

Then she breathed life into the totems.

And finally, turned her gaze to the wall.

 

The news that the Queen had left her room eventually reached the King as well.

Deborah was mobilizing every connection she had to catch the rat—but it wasn’t easy. The castle’s master was the King, after all.

In the middle of a meeting, Roderick heard a whisper in his ear and asked again:

“Hailey?”

He was overjoyed. And yet, worried too.

“Is the Queen feeling alright?”

“Yes, she seems well, Your Majesty.”

“Alright, good.”

But even while discussing matters of state, the King suddenly gestured for Jade.

“Can we have a physician on standby?”

Roderick was restless, racking his brain for how to get his wife to see a physician.

She didn’t like being examined—maybe he should suggest they go together?

Or tell her they’re going to the temple?

What should he cook for her?

What would cheer her up?

But no matter how he thought about it, his wife didn’t seem to like anything besides carving and growing herbs.

And honestly, even that—it was hard to tell whether she still did it out of love.

Carving. Herbs. Brewing medicine. Arthur’s forest. The King’s chamber. Walks by the lake.

And among all that, what had she ever done just for herself?

Still, despite the whirlwind of thoughts, the King’s face glowed with excitement.

The nobles around him couldn’t understand why he was smiling so widely.

The meeting ended quicker than usual, and the King headed straight for his chamber—

Only to find it completely empty.

“Where’s the Queen?”

Roderick felt the bottom fall out of his stomach.

“She just left a moment ago.”

He frowned.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep her here?”

“We tried, Your Majesty, but she was insistent… She was quite resolute, we couldn’t stop her… Forgive us.”

The Queen’s occasional bouts of strange stubbornness were already well known.

No one could quite make sense of them.

Still, before the King, all they could do was bow their heads.

With a heavy heart, Roderick glanced around his chamber—then toward the wall she always used to glance at.

As always, there was nothing there.

But at that moment, he sensed something.

“…Strange.”

The room felt peaceful. The energy had clearly settled.

It was an instinct born of royal blood and years as a swordsman.

“You did something again, didn’t you?”

No sooner had he spoken than the faint scent of something burnt tickled his nose.

A smell that sometimes lingered when she had spent the night.

No one understood what he was talking about, but the King’s face had hardened—frighteningly so.

“Send a physician to the Queen. Right now.”

“…Pardon?”

“Quickly. Even if she refuses, have them check on her. That’s a royal command.”

The King’s voice was firm—but those around him could hear a faint tremble.

As proof, Roderick sank onto the bed and ran a hand over his forehead.

Then he looked toward the bedside.

The carving had been replaced.

“I told you… not to touch my things without permission.”

And yet, he gently reached for the new carving, perfectly smooth and delicately shaped.

It was no longer grotesque or ridiculous.

Just… sorrowful. And deeply, achingly dear.

“I made this because I thought it might help you sleep better.”

“Every now and then, a stranger’s heartfelt wish might just protect Your Majesty.”

Hailey, the truth is—I want to apologize to you.

For the time I doubted you.

I’m so sorry.

Your heart—so tender, so precious.

Your sincere wishes that remain unbroken, no matter how much you’re hurt.

You must have been kicked down by this cruel world more times than one could count.

And you, unable to fight back, must’ve curled up, shielding your face, silently pleading,

“Please… don’t hit me.”

But what I want to say is this:

You are precious.

You are sacred.

Roderick felt like crying.

He examined every part of the statue.

And then, on the underside, he discovered something—

A name, etched faintly into the base of the sculpture.

The name Hailey had given it.

It was tiny, barely visible.

But even in those small, worn letters, he could feel her heart.

The selfish longing she dared to put into words,

The selfless heart she wished no one would see.

Between those two—

Was a single person,

Sacrificing herself. Hurting alone.

She’d said the world was vast, and she was just dust in it.

But that made her heart all the more immense.

“…Hailey.”

As if drawn by some invisible force, Roderick flipped over the Earthly General statue this time.

His voice was quieter now, but his hand trembled.

“…Lee-Jae.”

Roderick’s blue eyes shimmered.

Something inside him stirred, rising from his chest—

And then he spoke again, this time with full resolve:

“Lee-Jae.”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place.

Questions that had never been answered came rushing back—now with answers attached.

“…This… is you, isn’t it.”

And yet, as that realization brought joy, it was quickly swallowed by sorrow.

He saw again the face that had looked so pained, grieving over the broken statue.

Are you really okay?

You must’ve been in pain.

Carrying a secret like this alone… you must’ve been so lonely.

Then how—

How could you still say you love someone like me?

“…I’m sorry.”

Roderick covered his face with trembling hands.