So Yong wakes to the feel of someone's eyes on her. She breathes deeply, resenting that she's can't twist quickly enough to grab the nearest pillow and beat him to death. Her stomach has recently ballooned to the point that moving is difficult to say nothing of the exhaustion that's her new constant companion. She hates being pregnant. "My orders were clear."
"Yes, my queen," he says, suitably adoring. It does nothing to calm her ire. "I am following them, as you have commanded. I am not touching you." There's a pause. "However, I cannot help think that this accomplishes very little, as the effects of touching have already occurred."
She grabs her pillow and whips it behind her without looking. The thump of it hitting Cheoljong would be more satisfying if it were a rock. "Go away. I can't deal with you right now."
"My queen," he needles, hand creeping onto her hip. Asshole. This is how they got into this situation to begin with.
"The Crown Prince requests an audience!" Court Lady Choi shouts.
Cheoljong removes his hand as she shouts, "Let him in before I lose my temper and he becomes king!"
She pushes herself up, glaring at Cheoljong when he attempts to assist her.
Her firstborn enters, looking at them with big, serious eyes that he got from his father. He bows to them and knees by their bed. "Good morning, Father and Mother."
"Oh, stop that, who's here to overhear?" she scolds. "Come, help me up, I can't deal with your father right now."
Yung Jun scrambles to her side, deceptively strong for only being ten years old, and supports her as she heaves herself upright. "Mama, be careful!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she pants, gripping his shoulder.
"Dad, you have to stop making Mama angry," he says.
Cheoljong has both his hands spread, prepared to catch her if she stumbles. "I'm a king, Yung Jun, not a god."
She's going to beat him to death and no one will blame her.