Dokja restlessly paced back and forth outside Lady Seolhwa's chamber, anxiously biting his nails. The Duke of the Lee Family emerged from Seolhwa's chamber. He arrived as soon as he could after hearing of his daughter's collapse to treat her. As the former physician of the current emperor, if there was anyone qualified to treat Lady Seolhwa in such a sudden predicament, it was him
Dokja ran over to him. "Your Grace, is Lady Seolhwa okay? What happened?" he asked impatiently.
The duke looked him over before closing his eyes. "Based on the symptoms I observed, I am afraid she has been poisoned."
His eyes widened in shock. Poison? But how?
"No one approached the table when she'd briefly returned to her chambers and we both drank the same tea together. How could this happen, Your Grace? " He begged, confused and desperate for answers.
"Yes, you both drank the same tea, but nothing happened to you. It would mean..." he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. Dokja's brows furrowed, and he looked around the hall. The maids were whispering while casting suspicious glances at him. It was then that the realization dawned on him. Dokja looked down, his fists clenched tightly. "Are...are you saying that I poisoned her?" his voice shook. Dokja looked up at him with wide eyes, seeking an explanation. But he didn't answer, instead, he just stared back at the heir with an impassive look on his face. "Your Grace...she is my friend. I could never do something like that to her."
"It still hasn't been confirmed, but you were with her before she drank the poison. She left, and you were left alone for a few minutes. It would be more than enough time for you to have poisoned her cup," the duke explained gravely.
"Even so that doesn't prove that I did it!" he defended, gritting his teeth in frustration.
The duke sighed and placed his hand on Dokja's arm. "That may be true, but for the sake of the alliance between our families, please refrain from coming here until this is resolved."
"But-"
"Kim Dokja... your father and I are friends, and I don't want to strain our relationship. Please," he insisted, looking at him sincerely, "And… if your friendship with my daughter is genuine, then it will make itself known when we investigate this further."
—
Duke Lee had always been a busy man, not one to linger around his own estate with how many important patients were under his care. But of course, he still made it a point to stay connected with his daughter, making sure to be informed about her wellbeing and personal life either through conversations with her or from what the maids and servants had told him.
When the crown prince and Underworld heir had started their rivalry for her, he was extremely wary of them to say the least. He didn't like the idea of his daughter being fought for like a trophy, least of all by the two most infamous men in the empire. But Seolhwa took it with an amount of grace that made him proud, and she seemed to be fond about them in her own way, at times finding humor in their overzealous attempts to beat each other out.
But as more time passed, the look she had in her eyes whenever she spoke about them softened. She would tell him about their sincere (if not a bit awkward) attempts at getting her affections, about the earnest yearning she could spot on Kim Dokja's face when he looked at her, about how the crown prince ever so gently held her hand, like it was made of glass. As reluctant about the two men as he was, who was he to deny his daughter's emotions, especially the way she talked about the prince.
Which is why it came to his surprise when she rejected them both. He could have sworn his daughter had developed feelings. Though he didn't have time to linger on that, as his mind was overtaken with fear about how all hell would break loose, considering she'd rejected the most unhinged men in the empire. He was especially scared of what Kim Dokja would do, that boy was always up to no good.
And sure enough, here he found himself tending to his poisoned daughter as she so happened to be having tea with him. Duke Lee was tempted to report the young man to the royal guards and have him executed on the spot, his relation to the Underworld Duchy be damned.
But again, his daughter's affectionate words about him still rang clear in his mind, about how Sir Dokja been so civil in accepting her rejection, about how he'd been the one to propose to just be friends. The smile of relief on her face when she told him that she could still be present in Sir Dokja's life…Duke Lee may be a physician, but he was a father first, and he'd cast himself into hell if he betrayed his daughter's smile.
So, for just this one time, he was willing to give Kim Dokja a chance.
—
Dokja let out a heavy sigh. As much as he understood the duke's perspective, Dokja didn't want to believe that there was nothing he could do to prove his innocence.
"Alright, but please send me a letter to keep me updated," The duke nodded solemnly.
"I will," he promised. Dokja began treading his way out of the castle, his feet dragging behind him as the situation weighed heavily on his mind. But then he noticed someone had dashed by him in a rush. Looking back at them, it was Prince Yoo Joonghyuk, no doubt coming to check on Lee Seolhwa's condition.
He ignored Dokja in favor of getting to her bedside as soon as he could. While Dokja wanted to remain by Seolhwa's side to see her recovery, there's no telling what would happen to him if the crown prince discovered that he was the current main suspect of her poisoning.
Rushing out, Dokja reached into his coat to retrieve the handkerchief that Seolhwa had gifted him. But to his dismay, he hadn't been able to put it away before Lee Seolhwa collapsed. Making a detour, Dokja made his way back to the garden, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed him
Finally reaching the garden and going over to the table, Dokja picked up the gift. In the palm of his hand lay proof of him and Lady Seolhwa's friendship, staring mockingly back at him. Out of all people, why did she have to be the one targeted?
The only thing Lee Seolhwa could be charged with was genuinely caring for the empire's people and dedicating her life to do whatever she could to save them. Whoever targeted her, was her life the only thing they wanted or were there ulterior motives? There were too many things to consider, too many questions to ask. For some reason Dokja still felt immeasurably guilty, as if he really had been the one to poison her himself. Did he have no place in this world? Were the people around him destined to suffer because of his presence?
As Dokja stewed in his spiraling thoughts, he didn't sense the figure that had been rapidly closing in on him, until a harsh grip on his arm forced him to whirl around. Before Dokja could even comprehend who it was, another hand wrapped itself around his neck and lifted him off his feet.
"Y-your Highness..." Dokja managed to stammer, struggling to speak. His feet kicked around uselessly as they tried to find purchase. Dokja clawed at Yoo Joonghyuk's hand, trying to pry them open, but he only tightened his grip further.
"You..." he growled; his voice laced with malice. He put on even more pressure, choking the life out of him. Dokja couldn't breathe, and tremors ran through his body as his lungs were on the verge of collapsing.
"Y-your Highness... I...c-can't...b...brea..," he gasped out, his words strained as he desperately tried to free himself from the prince's suffocating grasp. Joonghyuk was relentless, his teeth bared at the man in front of him.
Eventually, he released his grip on Dokja's neck, only to deliver a violent slap that sent him flying to the ground. Dokja cradled his stinging cheek, feeling the pain ripple through his face as his nerves lit on fire. Slowly, he lifted his face to meet the prince's, but his expression remained unchanged – filled with wrath, devoid of anything but his hatred for Kim Dokja.
Dokja was taken back to his childhood, looking up at his father as the stench of alcohol stuck to every pore on his body, his mother's limp body somewhere behind him, his body littered with bruises as he desperately tried to bear through the pain.
He couldn't breathe. The prince slowly knelt down to Dokja's level. His hand reached out to grasp his jaw, forcing Dokja's quivering eyes to meet his own. "You think that hurts?" he sneered out. Dokja remained silent, his gaze fixed on him as he tightened his grip.
"You don't have the right to complain after what you've done to her," he uttered with a deep, murderous tone in his voice.
Dokja could barely get his voice out, frozen in fear, "no... she's… my friend."
"Oh, so you decided to poison your dear friend?," he snarled at Dokja, each word dripping with venom. This was too much for him. Tears started pricking the corners of his eyes.
"I didn't poison her. I could never do something like that to her!" Dokja shouted back with conviction.
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a humorless breath, his face drawing closer to Dokja's. "Do you really think I'd believe that?" he mocked, making Dokja lower his gaze and bite his lip.
He was right. Who was he to claim innocence in the face of such accusations? Dokja had forgotten about it, about the suffering the prince had to endure because of him. If only he could strike back at him, at Kim Dokja, the villain. But now the villain was gone, and Kim Dokja the reader remained, suffering in his place. "Your Highness, I was trying to apologize, to make amends—"
"Apologize? Don't make me laugh." he spat out, his jaw clenched fiercely as he tightened his grip on Dokja's.
"Your Highness, it hurts," Dokja whimpered out, his jaw on the verge of cracking.
The crown prince bought his face inches from Dokja's. "Listen, Kim Dokja, if anything happens to her, I will make sure you experience true pain." he promised. The threat hung in the air, leaving him shivering. Shoving his face aside, Joonghyuk stood up, adjusted his clothes, and strode away back into the manor.
Dokja was on his hands and knees, barely able to keep up his own weight. His vision was fading in and out, a pressure crushing his chest. Despite this, he somehow forced himself to stand, his legs shaky. He trudged on, no matter what he just needed to get out of this god-forsaken place.
As he made his way out, onlookers were having a field day speculating about his disheveled look, with a very apparent hand mark around his neck and on his cheek, and his bottom lip split. But Dokja was too tired to care anymore. What did it matter anymore, the gossip and rumors that would spread about him.
Everyone had already made up their minds anyway. Boarding the carriage, Dokja closed his eyes. He just wanted to go home.