A/N: This is the part where I ask you for some suspension of disbelief, especially in the medicinal sense.

After what feels like an eternity, Kim-taeui emerges from the inner chamber and bows to both of them.

“How is she?” Sojung and Seokjin say at the same time.

“She has not woken yet,” he says, and at their expressions, add quickly. “I am sure she will soon. She is fine now. There is no need to worry.”

Seokjin exhales in relief, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. Sojung isn’t as positive; she feels like the physician is holding something back, something he doesn’t want to say while she’s still there.

“Wangseja, there is something I discovered.” Kim-taeui looks at Sojung uncertainly, and then at Seokjin.

“You can speak openly in front of Sojung-gongju,” Seokjin says. “She has my utmost confidence.”

Something twists in Sojung’s stomach: uneasiness, perhaps, or guilt. She tells herself that she has done nothing in action to betray Seokjin’s confidence. She cannot control the workings of her mind or heart, she cannot turn off how she feels about Yerin, but she has never done any deed to betray Seokjin.

Only because you haven’t had the opportunity, a corner of her mind whispers, a dark corner where her basest, vilest desires live. If Yerin offered, would you turn her away because of Seokjin?

She feels ashamed of herself for even considering such an avenue of thought during such a dire situation, but when it comes to Yerin, all the careful restraint she’s learned in the palace just seems to crumble.

“I suspected poison, and the first thing I examined was her tea,” Kim-taeui says. “However, it seems to be untainted. Then, I took a look at the food she ate that day. I discovered a large amount of safflower in both the soup and pastries she had consumed.”

“Safflower?” Seokjin repeats, looking confused.

Sojung’s face pales. “You’re sure about that?”

Kim-taeui nods grimly. “It is, unfortunately, far from my first case of seeing this.”

“So Yerin is…” Sojung swallows. “She’s…?”

Kim-taeui shakes his head. “She is not pregnant.”

Seokjin’s eyes flicker between the two of them. “What does that have to do with this safflower?”

“Safflower, in large enough quantities, is known to induce miscarriage,” Kim-taeui explains, and Seokjin’s face turns as pale as Sojung’s.

“But Yerin is not pregnant,” Sojung repeats, as if saying the words again will ensure their verity.

“She is not,” Kim-taeui confirms.

Sojung glances at Seokjin, who still seems too shell-shocked to take this in. No doubt, he is not familiar with the inner workings of this uglier side of the palace. The side filled with women who would do anything it takes to gain favour or topple their rivals from it.

“Watch your back, okay? Literally and figuratively.”

“I do that every waking hour already, gongjunim.”

And yet, Yerin still got hurt. And, had she really been pregnant, she would no doubt have lost the baby. Sojung feels sick just at the thought, and her hand subconsciously moves toward her own stomach.

“If Yerin is not even pregnant,” Seokjin says, “then why did…why would…” He trails off, unable to even finish the question.

“It is a misconception that a large amount of safflower can render a woman infertile,” Kim-taeui says.

“Can it?” Seokjin asks, staring at Kim-taeui like the wrong answer can cost him his life. Sojung has never felt afraid of her brother before, but she can feel a frisson of fear crawl over her spine, even though the expression isn’t even directed at her. In that moment, she sees so much of their father in him that it renders her frozen in place.

Kim-taeui hesitates. “It has never been proven.”

“But?” Seokjin prompts.

“There have been cases of concubines who were unable to conceive after ingesting large quantities of safflower. However, we do not know if that was directly related to the safflower or—”

Sojung interrupts. “Would you still love Yerin even if she couldn’t have children?”

Seokjin gives her an inscrutable look. “That is not what is going to happen. Yerin is healthy and can bear me many heirs.”

Kim-taeui coughs quietly, probably sensing the tension in the air. “I should go check on the medicine,” he says, barely waiting for Seokjin’s distracted nod before making his way out.

“It is not like you to speak so…openly in the presence of others,” Seokjin says disapprovingly. “Abeonim would be disappointed in you for showing a lack of restraint.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if not disappointing abeonim isn’t on my list of priorities right now.”

“I have a feeling that our lists of priorities – or rather, priority – look rather similar rather now, so I can hardly hold it against you.”

She steels herself as she asks her question. “So would you, orabeoni?”

“Would I what?”

“Still love Yerin,” Sojung says, knowing she’s treading on a dangerous line but unwilling to take her foot off the path.

Seokjin sighs, his shoulder slumping. “I will always love Yerin. But she would not be able to be my empress if she is infertile. That is not in my hands, Sojung.”

Sojung nods slowly. I will always love Yerin. Seokjin had said that with such certainty, such conviction. She believes that he means it, but she can’t help but wonder if that ‘always’ would really hold through anything.

“Wangseja! Gongjunim!” It’s Yuna, who again comes running to them. “She’s awake!”

Sojung and Seokjin almost run into each other in their haste to get to Yerin, and Sojung has to remind herself to let Seokjin go into her chamber first, as he is, after all, her husband and Sojung is only her ‘best and most trusted friend.’

Yerin has always been fair, but she looks downright pallid now, her eyes huge and dark in her wan face. Sojung’s heart aches at the sight of her; it’s been less than a day since she last saw Yerin, but she almost looks like a different person. Sojung has always felt a protective instinct towards Yerin, but she’s never felt it more than she does now.

Yerin sees Seokjin first. “Jeoha,” she says weakly, trying to sit up.

“Do not strain yourself,” he says, looking like he wants to put his arms around her but he’s afraid that he would break her if he touched her. “How are you feeling?”

“I am fine,” she says, sounding like she’s saying that to reassure him. “I am sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, taking her hand so carefully between both of his that it’s like she’s made of glass. “It’s not your fault.”

Yerin finally catches sight of Sojung, hovering by the door like she isn’t sure she belongs here, in this room with a husband by his wife’s bedside while she’s simply the outsider looking in. “Sojung unnie,” she says in surprise. “You are here too.”

“Of course I’m here,” Sojung says, unable to help herself. Thankfully, Seokjin’s eyes are on Yerin so he doesn’t see the way that Sojung’s drink her in. It’s like she’s ill herself, but she hadn’t realized until the sight of Yerin started to heal her. “I was worried sick about you. I mean, we both were.”

“Sor—” Yerin starts to apologize again, but Seokjin doesn’t let her.

He takes her hand and cradles it against his cheek. “As long as you are all right, everything else is fine,” he murmurs. “Stop thinking about other people and just focus on recovering, okay? They’re almost finished brewing your medicine.”

Yerin juts out her bottom lip. “Do I have to drink medicine? You know I hate it.”

He chuckles. “I know you do, but how are you supposed to get better if you don’t drink it? Please, for my sake.”

Yerin lets out a long sigh. “Okay, just for you,” she says, and he brings her hand to his lips.

Sojung wants to draw her eyes away from the scene, but like a masochist, she finds them locked in place.

There’s a knock on the door. “Wangseja?” a harried-looking young eunuch asks tentatively.

“What is it?” he barks, and the eunuch looks like he’s quivering in fear.

“The…the king requested your presence. He says that it is urgent.”

Seokjin’s brows furrow. “The king?”

“Y-yes. He requires your presence immediately.”

Seokjin looks at Yerin apologetically, and she gives him a reassuring smile. “I will be all right. Sojung unnie is with me. She will look after me. Right?”

“I’ll take care of her,” Sojung promises, moving to stand on the other side of the bed. “I promise nothing will happen to her so long as I’m here.”

Seokjin stares at her for a long moment, and it takes every fibre of strength in her not to break eye contact with him. “Okay,” he says. “I trust you, Sojung. I’m leaving Yerin to you until I return.”

Sojung has to tell herself not to look at Yerin. “I will not leave her side.”

Seokjin nods, his eyes flickering to the eunuch. “All right. Let us go to the king.”

Sojung doesn’t let herself relax until they’re both well out of sight. She looks around carefully to make sure that nobody else can see them, before she takes a seat on the edge of Yerin’s bed.

“Yerin,” she says, and then finds herself unable to say another word. Her eyes run over Yerin, torn between checking every inch of her for damage and simply staring at her face. She lifts a hand toward Yerin, wanting to touch her, to make sure she’s here and real and safe, but she can’t cross that final inch of distance between them and her hand drops back to her side. Or it would have, if Yerin didn’t reach out her hand and take Sojung’s in her own.

“Unnie, I’m okay,” she says, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to look like that.”

“Like what?” Sojung croaks.

“Like I’m going to disappear if you blink. I’m not going anywhere.” Yerin squeezes her hand, and Sojung lets out a soft sigh, daring to believe that her prayers have been answered.

Yerin moves to sit up, and Sojung hurriedly puts an arm around her and helps her. She takes one of the pillows and places it behind Yerin so that she could lean against it.

“Thank you,” Yerin says softly.

“It’s the least I could do,” Sojung replies, just as softly.

“Wangsejabin?” Yuna pokes her head past the doorway, although her eyes are trained on the ground, like she’s wary of seeing something she shouldn’t. “Your medicine is ready.”

“Oh, thank you, Yuna. You can bring it in.”

Yuna carries in a tray with a bowl of steaming brown liquid, and Yerin wrinkles her nose at it. Sojung barely suppresses a laugh at her expression. Some things never change.

Yuna gives a rueful smile. “I must have scared you earlier,” she says to Yuna. “I hope not too badly.”

“It’s nothing,” Yuna replies. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“Here, I got it,” Sojung says, taking the tray from Yuna and setting it on the side table.

“Yuna, thank you for getting Sojung unnie,” Yerin says. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“I think I have an inkling.” Yerin’s eyes rove thoughtfully over Yuna’s face, but she says nothing. “You don’t have to worry about anyone coming in. Wangseja left clear instructions that you are not to be disturbed and that only gongjunim and I can come into your chambers. Oh, and Kim-taeui if you request him.”

“I suppose I will need to have a discussion with him later,” Yerin says with an unreadable look in her eyes. “Thank you, Yuna.”

“You don’t need to thank me so much. My job is to serve you to the best of my ability.”

“Your job is to attend to my physical needs, but you do much more than that.” Yerin smiles. “All right, I won’t thank you anymore for now, but I want you to know that I appreciate you. I’m grateful to have you in my life.”

“I feel the same,” Yuna says. “I will take my leave for now, wangsejabin. Please let me know if you require anything.”

She gives a short bow, and then she’s quick to leave. Sojung decides that the medicine has cooled down enough, but just to be sure she blows across the spoonful she’s holding before she brings it to Yerin’s lips.

“Drink up,” she coaxes.

Yerin turns a sad face to her. “Do I have to?” she asks, sounding just like she did as a child.

“Yes,” Sojung says patiently. “You have to so you can get better. Plus,” she adds with a bitter twist of . “You promised Seokjin-orabeoni you would. You said you would drink it just for him.”

“Unnie.” Yerin sounds pained. “Please don’t look at me like that. You know I have to.”

“I know.” Sojung’s hand shakes, and a few drops of medicine spill onto Yerin’s bed. “He’s your husband. And I’m just your childhood friend.”

“Sojung unnie.”

“He said I’m your best and most trusted friend, you know. And he said that I make you happy when I come to see you. Is that true?”

“Of course it’s true,” Yerin says. “Don’t you know that already?”

“But I can’t make you happy,” Sojung whispers. “He’s the one who makes you happy. He’s the one who can see you whenever he wants, kiss you whenever he wants. He’s the one who spends the night here, who gets to hold you and. He’s the one for you.”

“But he’s not the one I love,” Yerin says, her voice so quiet that Sojung can barely hear her even though she’s right beside her. “Seokjin-jeoha is a good man and he’s better to me than I could ever have imagined, but he has one critical flaw.”

“And what is that?”

Yerin’s eyes are steady on hers. “He’s not you.”

A/N: The safflower bit is taken from the palace drama Empresses in the Palace. I've never actually watched this drama, but the whole sabotage --> miscarriage thing is a common theme in palace dramas. It's really quite chilling.