Dokja woke up for the second time that day, once more being greeted by his bedroom ceiling. Blearily blinking away the fuzziness that persisted at the edge of his vision, subtle movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. To his left, Lady Seolhwa appeared to be fiddling with some of her medical instruments, her back turned towards him. The soft clinks of her metal tools stopped when her called out to her, his voice rough.
"Lady Seolhwa?" Dokja murmured, sitting up from the bed.
The physician abruptly stopped her movements and turned towards him, scanning over his body before she swiftly went to pour him a cup of water from the pitcher on his nightstand. Going to his side, Lady Seolhwa offered him the cup, which he gladly accepted, and was quick to assess his condition.
"Sir Dokja, are you feeling fine, now?" she asked, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder, " do you have any lingering dizziness or pain?" Seolhwa's brow furrowed as she studied Dokja's face, her gaze intense as she waited for his response.
Finishing the cup, Dokja set it next to him on the nightstand before smiling awkwardly at her, apologetic for worrying her.
"I'm fine now, no worries! I guess all the work from the past few days caught up to me… I'll be sure to be more careful next time around," Dokja promised, setting a reassuring hand on top of Seolhwa's as he tried to quell the concern he could see swirling in her eyes.
The tension in Seolhwa's shoulders seemed to ease slightly at his words. Her face relaxed, and a small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She nodded, seemingly pleased by his response, but her posture still signaled a lingering sense of worry.
"I'm glad to hear that," Seolhwa breathed out, sincere. She still sat straight as a rod, her muscles tense as if readying herself to catch him if he fainted again.
Dokja looked around the room, his gaze sweeping across the familiar surroundings as he slowly recalled what happened leading up to his unwilling slumber.
"Hmmm, Lady Jiwon was here, right? I think she was the last person I saw before fainting... is she okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of concern.
Seolhwa's expression shifted, turning thoughtful, "Ah, yes, she made quite the ruckus when she went hollering through the house that you'd fainted. She and everyone are in the common area awaiting your recovery. I had to force them to wait there while you were resting so as to not disturb you."
From the tired and weary tone her voice took at the end of the sentence, Dokja smiled apologetically at her. With how protective his family had grown over him, it must've been quite the uphill battle to make all of them heed to her command. He could only imagine how long it took her to calm all of them down before attending to him.
"I see," he said, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you for taking care of things while I was... indisposed."
Seolhwa's expression softened, and she gave Dokja an encouraging pat on his shoulder. "Of course, Sir Dokja, I'm simply performing my duties as is expected of me. I'm sure everyone will be relieved to see you awake and well, just as I am." But as Seolhwa finished her sentence, her expression turned hard once more, and the tension returned to her stance, "But before I go inform them that you've awoken, there's another matter that I must speak to you about."
Dokja's brow furrowed in confusion, and he felt a sense of unease creep up within him. His mind raced, wondering if perhaps she had found the source of his ailments for the past few days, and if it was anything dire.. He braced himself, his eyes widening as he waited for Seolhwa to deliver the news.
However, Seolhwa's next words caught him completely off guard. "I'll give it to you straight: you're pregnant," she stated bluntly, her gaze unwavering.
Dokja's jaw dropped, and he stared at Seolhwa in utter disbelief. He found himself at a loss for words, his mind struggling to process what she had just said.
Pregnant? How could that be possible? Dokja's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. Now matter how many times he turned over the word in his mind, he simply couldn't comprehend its meaning.
"…Is this a joke?"
The bewilderment was evident on his face as he searched Seolhwa's expression for any sign that this was indeed some kind of jest.
Seolhwa, however, maintained a serious demeanor, her gaze unwavering as she met Dokja's questioning look.
"I assure you, Sir Dokja, this is no joke," Seolhwa replied, her voice calm and measured. "While I was checking on your condition, some of your attendants and maids came to me, saying that they've seen you rushing to the bathroom to throw up and have seemed to be more fatigued over the past week or so. According to them your diet had not changed, and from my observations you have no sign of illness or disease, nor have you been exposed to any dangerous elements. This is the only conclusion I could arrive at."
"But... I…" Dokja was in a daze, his eyes unfocused as he mentally grasped at straws for any other possible explanation for his condition.
Seeing his pitiful floundering, Seolhwa sighed and clasped his hands in her own, looking him directly in the eyes.
"I recall from your trial Lady Jiwon and Sooyoung revealed that you had relations with the former prince that night, yes? Has anyone informed you of the possible aftermath of bedding with a member of the royal family?"
At last, in Dokja's dazed eyes there seemed to be a spark of recognition, a sense of dread accompanying it, "The seed from the royal family's men can make a man give birth to a child," Dokja quietly murmured, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place.
"Han Sooyoung told me, but… it's been months since that happened, isn't it too late for a baby to develop" Dokja reasoned, desperately searching for any other logical explanation. Hearing the panic in her voice, Seolhwa tightened her grip on his hands and shook her head solemnly, her expression conveying the weight of the situation.
"According to the medical documents I've read about the royal family, the beginning stages of pregnancies concerning men are a slightly different affair than in women. Once the seed takes root in the man, its essence begins to slowly change in the inside of his body to make the… facilities that are needed to hold and nourish a child. Only when those are developed does the seed start to develop, and the pregnancy start in full."
Dokja was overwhelmed both by the information and flood of emotions that washed over him. Shock, disbelief, and a growing sense of trepidation consumed him as he grappled with the revelation that he was carrying a child within his own body.
What did this mean for his life going forward? What would everyone say about this? What would Joonghyuk say about this? Questions swirled in his mind, leaving him feeling disoriented and uncertain. He could only look up helplessly at the physician, silently pleading with her to say something, anything that could assure him that everything would be fine.
In her grasp Dokja's hands started to shake subtlety. Seolhwa watched Dokja's reaction with a sympathetic gaze, understanding that he needed time to fully come to terms with the development. She placed a gentle hand on Dokja's arm and spoke softly, "I know this is all overwhelming, Sir Dokja, but please know I'll be right here by your side if you need anything. However you decide to proceed moving forward is your choice and your choice only. It's your body, you're the only one who can decide for yourself. Please take the time to think about this."
Dokja pursed his lips and simply nodded, still dumbfounded.
Seolhwa continued, "That being said, I'll also refrain from speaking to anyone about this. The time at which you decide to reveal this to everyone else will be up to you, but I highly insist that you be honest about this, if only to lessen your own mental burden." With a final squeeze of his hand, Lee Seolhwa let go and stood from her seat.
Dokja remained silent, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular as Seolhwa's words hung in the air. He barely registered her fading steps, the sound of the door closing signaling her departure.
Unblinking, Dokja continued to stare. The prospect of being responsible for a child, of potentially becoming a parent…the whirlwind of panicked thoughts finally settled down into a heavy pit in his stomach, the terror of it all finally hitting him.
He…didn't know the first thing about caring for a child. WIth Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyeong it was different. They'd already seen the destitute underbelly of the empire, the cruelty and neglect that existed in the world had already hardened their souls, just like it had for him. But the idea of bringing a new life into the world, of shaping and nurturing a young soul, terrified him. Would he be able to protect this child from the terrors of the world, or would he have to be a firsthand witness to the moment they discover just how unforgiving the universe could be?
People always liked to say that history repeated itself. The scars and pain that he had borne on his body throughout his entire life, was he destined to pass them on to his own child, to become a hypocrite and everything he had ever despised?
Not only that, but how in the world was he going to raise a child in a world where he hadn't even originated from? The only reason he'd managed to survive this far was because of his prior knowledge of the novel. But so much had already deviated from its original course. What about a year from now, no, even a month from now? There was no way to tell what enemies he'd have to face then, or if the world would even be stable enough to accommodate a child.
As Dokja's thoughts began to fold in on themselves, a deeper realization began to dawn on him. His mind flashed to Hades and Persephone; there was no way he could face them, to claim that he bore their grandchild when he wasn't even their true son. He couldn't continue lying to them, and everyone else, the strangers that had become his family. For all that they'd done for him, and for the temporary happiness that had granted him even though he was merely a copycat, an outsider who had taken on the identity of the original.
He had let himself be swept away by the bliss that this world had given him, let himself grow selfish and greedy to the point that he had forgotten that this was not his world, not his life. He had been living a borrowed existence, and now, with the prospect of a child on the way, he knew he could not remain. This was not his story, and he would never truly be the Dokja that belonged here.
This was an inevitability, that the lie, the facade that he had carefully constructed to fit into this world and survive would one day come to an end.
He was but a mere imitation of the character whose life he'd been so obsessed with. And with a child on the way, he knew he could not in good conscience bring a new life into this world under false pretenses.
Dokja's heart ached with the realization that he would have to leave, that he would have to relinquish the happiness and contentment he had found in this world. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do – for the sake of the true Dokja, for the sake of the child, and for the sake of the world he had come to cherish.
For how miserable his life had been before coming here, he could be content with this bit of happiness that the world had generously given to him. He'd cling on to it for the rest of his life, replaying the time he'd spent with the family he loved, immersing himself in the memories of the man that treasured him like no one else until he drowned in them.
But he wasn't the only Kim Dokja that had suffered. For all that the story seemed to want to torture him, Kim Dokja the villain deserved a happy ending too.
Dokja contemplated the consequences of revealing his true identity. He knew that the people in this world had come to love and trust the current Dokja, and the thought of disappointing or angering them filled him with dread.
His heart squeezed even more at the thought of Joonghyuk's. The bond they had forged, the love they had shared – would it all crumble once Joonghyuk learned that Dokja was not the true Dokja, but rather a reader who had already known about his struggles and had regarded him as a mere character for so long?
He imagined the looks of disappointment, the expressions of anger and betrayal, the tears of sadness that might greet him when the truth was finally revealed. Dokja's heart ached at the mere thought of it, and he found himself wishing he could simply disappear, to avoid the inevitable confrontation.
No, he had to be honest, that he had to take responsibility for his actions. All of them deserved to know the truth. The weight of his decision to take on the Dokja's identity was a burden he had to bear, even if it meant the risk of losing everything he had come to hold dear.
As the sound of running footsteps approached, Dokja quickly straightened his posture, trying his best to regain his composure. He knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down, not when the truth of his identity was hanging by a thread.
The door slammed open, and the worried faces of those he had come to care for poured through the door – His family. They all rushed to his bedside, quickly surrounding him.
"I'm glad you're already awake, My Dear," the Duchess said, her voice laced with relief. "You almost gave us a heart attack."
He couldn't keep up this charade forever, the truth would eventually come to light. And the thought of losing their trust, their affection, and their acceptance threatened to shatter him from the inside..
Trying to calm down the kids, who were fussing over him and trying to climb next to him on the bed, Dokja forced a small smile.
"I'm alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry, I'm already fine,...mother..."
The Duchess smiled at him, and Gilyeong piped up from his left side, "That emo bastard is making you too much, Hyung, you should rest more!"
To his right Yoosung nodded along to his words, her concerned voice chiming along with him, "That's right, Ahjussi, don't do that again, all of us were scared for you..."
Dokja couldn't help but smile as he looked at the two children, gently patting their heads.
"Especially the witch over there" Yoosung added on, turning her attention to Sooyoung, whose expression shifted from sternness to outright indignation." She glared at the little girl, her voice rising in pitch to a whine as she yelled, "Hey, don't call me like that you brat, stop copying your father! And who said I was worried?!"
Despite her vehement protests, the rest of the group couldn't help but chuckle at her denial. Dokja watched with a small smile as Sooyoung continued to insist that she wasn't worried, her cheeks flushed pink with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.
The lighthearted banter was a welcome respite from the heavy emotions that had been weighing on Dokja's mind. For a moment, he was able to forget the burden of his deception and simply enjoy the camaraderie of the group.
Dokja's eyes scanned the group, and he immediately noticed the absence of Joonghyuk, Hyunsung, and Jihye.
"Hey, where are Joonghyuk, and his knights?" he inquired with a furrowed brow.
Heewon was the one that answered him. "Ah, right, Lady Sangah told us that the duke had something important to oversee right now," she explained, her expression serious. "But we've already sent a messenger over to him to inform him of what happened to you."
Dokja was about to ask another question when suddenly, like the devil himself, the door burst open and a familiar figure rushed into the room.
Without sparing a moment, Joonghyuk strode across the room and pulled Dokja into a tight embrace, almost knocking the children off the bed. Dokja, caught off guard by his unexpected entrance, sat there for a moment, unsure of how to react.
As the children tried shoving the newfound duke off of Dokja to get a turn for their own hugs, the others in the room watched the scene with their own pouts and huffs of exasperation at the fact that they had barely any time to spend with Dokja before Joonghyuk came barreling in like usual.
Dokja could feel the tension and worry radiating from the other man as he held him. It was a stark contrast to the usually stoic facade Joonghyuk presented.
"Dokja," Joonghyuk breathed out, his voice laced with emotion. "I'm glad you're alright. When I heard what happened, I came as soon as I could," he continued, stroking Dokja's hair slowly. Whether he was doing so to calm down himself or Dokja was a question left unanswered.
Dokja smiled warmly at Joonghyuk as they embraced, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten. "Don't worry, I'm fine Joonghyuk-ah," he assured. "Lee Seolhwa already gave me the clear."
Despite his attempt to calm him down Joonghyuk remained tense as he pulled back, his hands still resting on Dokja's shoulders. "What happened in the first place for you to pass out like that? Are you coming down with something?"
Dokja could see the worry etched on Joonghyuk's face, and he felt a pang of guilt for causing him such distress. "I'm fine, really," he repeated. "With everything going on it's just been a lot to handle, that's all. Don't worry too much, it's just stress, right Lady Seolhwa?" Dokja turned his attention to Seolhwa, the expression on his face turning slightly strained.
"That's right, it's just stress," Seolhwa chimed in, nodding along. "Dokja has been through a lot lately, but he's strong. He'll get through this just fine as long as he gets adequate rest."
Joonghyuk's gaze shifted between Dokja and Seolhwa, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to sense that there was more to the story than they were letting on. "I see," Joonghyuk said, his tone measured. "As long as it's nothing more serious. Still, I want you to know that I'm here for you, Dokja. Whatever you need, you can count on me."
Dokja's heart filled with warmth. Though Joonghyuk was a man of few words, the depth of his loyalty was unquestionable.
"Thank you, Joonghyuk-ah," Dokja said, his voice soft but sincere. "I appreciate that more than you know."
Seolhwa's eyes darted between the two men, watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression.
-----
"Oh, there you are, my friend!" the bartender jovially exclaimed as he noticed a cloaked figure approached the counter. "I thought you would never show up again," the bartender sighed out, a hint of relief in his voice as they silently took a seat on the barstool in front of him. The bartender knew this customer preferred to keep a low profile, rarely engaging in conversation beyond the necessary interactions.
The bartender leaned forward slightly, his eyes meeting the shadowy gaze of the cloaked figure as he asked, "What do you want to drink, the regular?" He held a clean glass in his hand, ready to prepare the customer's order.
The person before him paused for a moment, seeming to consider their options before responding in a low, measured voice, "A glass of milk will be all I need"
The bartender blinked at the unexpected request. "Milk?" he repeated.
The cloaked figure said nothing, not bothering to repeat himself, but the bartender could feel his expectant gaze even from under his hood.
Recovering from his momentary surprise, he quickly set about fulfilling the order. "Of course, right away," he said, reaching for a clean glass and lifting a chilled pitcher of milk behind the bar.
Carefully pouring the fresh, creamy liquid, the bartender placed the glass of milk on the counter and slid it towards the cloaked patron. "There you are, good sir" he said, his curiosity piqued by this unusual request.
The cloaked figure reached out a gloved hand and wrapped it around the glass, bringing it to their lips for a slow, deliberate sip. A moment of silence passed between the two as the bartender watched, as the bartender waited to see if his customer had any further requests.
"Thank you," they said simply, their voice barely above a whisper, before turning their attention to the glass of milk, content to savor the simple refreshment.
As Dokja took another sip, he considered the bartender's curious gaze.
"Usually by now you'd be swirling a glass of our finest red wine in your hands. Y'know, we only order those bottles for the few times you decide to show up here," at his customer's continued silence, the bartender continued speaking, determined to get any ounce of information out of his mysterious customer to satiate his curiosity.
"Don't tell me you've finally gone and become a family man; such people have no reason to be coming to this dingy ol' establishment."
At that, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Dokja's lips, though the shadows of his hood concealed his expression.
"Hmph, you not entirely wrong," Dokja chuckled out, his voice low and measured. " I have a little one with me now," he explained, a hint of fondness in his tone. "As much as I'd love a glass, I'm afraid I have to abstain, for their sake."
"In fact, I'm not even sure how I ended up here," he admitted wistfully, his gaze drifting around the dimly lit bar. "I was just out for a bit of fresh air, trying to clear my head, and somehow I found myself back in this place."
"Though I suppose it's not entirely a coincidence," he mused, taking another sip of milk. "I did promise the last time I was here that I'd return, though I'd nearly forgotten about that." Dokja's expression grew thoughtful.
The bartender silently listened, wiping down the bar top before asking inquisitively, "Then, would you happen to be interested in more information about the white kill?"
When Dokja heard that, he set his glass of milk on the table, "Well… getting information wasn't my intention when I walked in here, but if you have information to give, who am I to refuse?"
The bartender leaned in closer to Dokja, his eyes darting around to ensure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation.
"I've been hearing some troubling rumors, my friend," the bartender began, his hushed voice barely above a whisper. "Word on the street is that the source of those potent white narcotics that have been causing so much trouble - the ones they're calling the white kill - is a rare and dangerous flower."
He paused, gauging Dokja's reaction before continuing. "I don't know all the details, but apparently this flower - and I use that term loosely, it's said to be more akin to a rare and toxic plant - is the key ingredient. It has some kind of toxic compound that's being extracted and used to manufacture these new synthetic drugs. In small doses they're used to create the white kill, but in larger amounts, they're said to be incredibly powerful and addictive - and unfortunately, deadly for all who consume them."
Dokja's eyes widened in surprise. He racked his brain, trying to recall the details from the novel. While the novel loosely mentioned the drug's origins, whether or not they'd delved into specifics beyond that eluded him.
The bartender continued "That's what I've been hearing from my sources. Apparently, they grind it up and purify it with some kind of chemical concoction to produce the final product."
He leaned in even closer, his eyes narrowing. "Now here's the really troubling part – they haven't been able to create anything else that replicates the effects of the flower's extract. So as of now, the plant itself is incredibly valuable, dealers are popping up everywhere, some guys betting their entire livelihoods on the small chance that they'll get their hands on some. If you control the flower supply, you control the entirety of the drug ring."
Dokja put a finger to his chin, deep in thought.
"What exactly is the name of this flower that you're talking about?" he asked.
The bartender paused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he considered how much information to divulge. "Well, I'm not entirely certain of the official name," he admitted, "but from what I've heard, it's referred to as the -----"
-------
Heavy black wooden doors opened accompanied by the ringing steps of metal armor as the knight Lee Hyunsung made his way into his duke's study. The entrance closed behind him with a solid thud, the retainer made his way to the front of the desk, straightening his back before formally bowing to greet his master.
"Good evening, Your Grace..."
Duke Yoo Joonghyuk briefly lifted his gaze from the stack of paperwork on his desk, his piercing eyes meeting those of the knight standing before him. Though his expression remained neutral, there was a subtle intensity in the way he regarded Lee Hyunsung, as if silently assessing him.
After a moment of weighted silence, Joonghyuk returned his attention to the documents, the sound of his quill scratching against parchment filling the air once more. "Tell me everything you found out, and be thorough," he commanded, as blunt as ever.
As a newly appointed Duke, Joonghyuk was clearly burdened with a seemingly endless array of administrative duties – reviewing the backgrounds and skills of his new staff and knights, looking over reports about the state of his growing dukedom, negotiating the terms of land decrees, setting appointments with important figures; the list went on. Yet, despite the clear demands on his time, there was an unwavering focus in the way he carried himself, his movements efficient and his gaze firm.
Lee Hyunsung stood at attention, his back straight and his hands clasped behind him. "Of course, Your Grace," he replied. "The narcotics that you've asked about, I've received word that they come from the extract of a flowering plant. The informant was able to retrieve a sketch of its appearance."
He went to unfasten the pouch on his leather belt, pulling out a folded piece of scrap paper and deposited it on the Duke's desk. Setting his quill down, Joonghyuk reached out to unfold it, revealing a rough sketch of a flower. Despite the rough lines and poor paper quality, one could still make out the elegant form of the blossom and its delicate petals.
"The flower is called the 'Angels Blossom'," Hyunsung continued, his voice lowered. "It's said to have unique chemical properties that make it essential for the production of these... 'white kill drugs', as they are referred to as."
"And where, exactly, are these Angel's Blossoms found?"
Hyunsung hesitated for a moment, knowing the sensitivity of the information he was about to divulge. "It's rumored to grow in remote areas – typically ones barren of life and other forms of vegetation. Drug cartels have been quick to make strong footholds in these places and are actively finding ways to safely extract and transport them," he replied, his voice lowered to a near-whisper.
"That's all the information I was able to gather, Your Grace," Hyunsung concluded, his tone tinged with a hint of guilt.
Joonghyuk fell silent, his brow furrowed in thought as he tapped his fingertips against the surface of his desk, the rhythmic sound punctuating the weighted pause. Just as the Duke seemed lost in contemplation, Hyunsung suddenly remembered something else. Reaching back into his pouch, he produced a folded letter.
"Your Grace, I almost forgot to mention - Lady Sangah came by and delivered this letter for you," Hyunsung extended the envelope towards the Duke.
Joonghyuk's gaze shifted from the knight to the proffered letter, his expression unreadable. Reaching out, he took the envelope. Even from a mere touch, Joonghyuk could tell how high quality the envelope was, the material thick and smooth in contrast to the other piece of scrap paper his knight had given him earlier. With a slight nod, he turned his attention to the letter, carefully breaking the wax seal and unfolding the parchment within.
As Joonghyuk read the contents of the letter, Hyunsung watched him intently, his eyes drawn to the subtle change in the Duke's demeanor. To his surprise, a faint smirk began to tug at the corners of Joonghyuk's lips, a devilish glint flickering in his eyes.
Hyunsung couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creep up his spine at the sight. The only other time he'd seen his master wear such a conspiratorial look on his face was when he was around Kim Dokja.
"May I ask what the contents of the letter are to have piqued you so much, Your Grace?" Hyunsung asked, the hesitance in his voice not doing anything to hide his trepidation.
Joonghyuk's gaze lifted from the letter, and he regarded Hyunsung for a moment, the smirk still lingering on his face. There was an almost predatory quality to his expression. After a beat, Joonghyuk folded the letter and placed it on the table. "It's an invitation from the Crown Prince's birthday banquet," he replied, his tone cryptic. "Looks like they already want to meet the new Duke, I suppose."
Joonghyuk stood up from his chair and shifted his body to look out the window, his back now facing Hyunsung. The knight could only see the Duke's silhouette.
"Well, if that's what they want, how can I refuse the royal family," Joonghyuk said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He then turned his gaze towards the shining moon outside, a devilish smile spreading across his lips.
"Ha... How exciting."