What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 154
It might seem absurd for a man who had never carved anything in his life to not doubt his own skills, but Kazhan was serious. He had wielded a sword all his life, so the idea that he couldn’t carve a simple pin shape without repeatedly failing was unacceptable.
“There’s no time to decorate it.”
Kazhan abandoned his original plan to drill a hole at the end of the finished piece and hang a gem from it. Looking at the sky, which was already beginning to turn orange, he realized he should be more concerned about whether he could even complete a proper piece.
What he was trying to make was a hairpin, a type of ornament. He vividly remembered the time he and Ysaris, disguised as commoners, had browsed the wares of a merchant from the eastern continent who occasionally visited Pyrein.
The merchant had explained eagerly in his accented common tongue. He had emphasized several times how valuable the binyeo was, especially among women in the palace. Kazhan remembered being shocked at the exorbitant price the merchant quoted for what was essentially a piece of wood with a single gem embedded in it.
It had felt like a bit of a scam, but the merchant’s eloquence made the explanation worth listening to. Among the details, the fact that only married women in the eastern continent pinned up their hair had left a lasting impression.
It was the reason Ysaris, who had been eyeing the binyeo, had ultimately decided against it. And it was also the reason Kazhan, who had dreamed of a future with her, had later taken an interest in the hairpin.
“This one’s a failure too.”
Kazhan swallowed a sigh and discarded the splintered piece of wood. The wood kept splitting at the slightest mistake, making him wonder if there was a specific type of wood used for making binyeo.
Honestly, he didn’t have to make this. But since he had already started, and it was a gift for Ysaris, he persisted.
She had likely forgotten about the binyeo, having lost all memories of the days connected to him. It might end up being a meaningless gesture.
But Kazhan repeated the words he had kept to himself back then, unable to say them to Ysaris.
“I wanted to pin up your hair myself someday.”
Arrogantly, perhaps.
Kazhan quietly looked down at his bloodied hands. Carving the wood thinly with a dagger had left his hands nicked and stinging.
“…No matter how it happened, you’re my wife now.”
Fulfilling the dreams he had cherished one by one didn’t hurt. So Kazhan wiped the blood on the red part of his uniform and began shaping another thick branch. The setting sun, shimmering through the clouds, illuminated his work.
He had originally planned to give her the gift over dinner, but that was no longer possible.
Kazhan skipped the meal. By the time he rose from his seat with a satisfactory result in hand, the sun had already set.
* * *
Tap, tap.
Kazhan hurried toward the empress’s palace. Since it was already night, he had taken extra time to attach a sizable gem to the hairpin. Even if Ysaris was asleep, it was too late to complain.
If he had known it would take this long, he should have waited until tomorrow to finish it properly.
Clicking his tongue inwardly, Kazhan quickened his pace. If Ysaris was already asleep, he would have to try again tomorrow.
But when he arrived, the lights in her room were still on. Carefully stepping inside, he saw Ysaris sitting on the bed, reading a book. Mikael wasn’t there, so it seemed she had deliberately waited for him alone.
“Ysaris.”
Kazhan felt the corners of his mouth lifting on their own. The only explanation for Ysaris welcoming him like this was that she wanted some private time with him.
‘Had she liked the new garden that much?’
As he called her name sweetly and approached, a quiet response came from Ysaris, who hadn’t looked up.
“Cain.”
Her blue eyes, still fixed on the book, slowly rose to meet his. Her expression was indifferent, almost as if she hadn’t been waiting for him with any particular purpose in mind.
“What’s wrong?”
Immediately sensing something was off, Kazhan sat beside her and carefully studied her face. Was she feeling unwell? Was she upset? His scrutinizing gaze met no reaction from Ysaris, who soon spoke.
“How much have you been hiding from me?”
