Chapter 9……
“Yangwon shows signs of pregnancy?”
“Yes, Your Highness. It is still very early, so the signs were faint, but it was clearly pregnancy.”
“I see.”
The Crown Prince could not simply rejoice. The news of conception, timed just before Lady Sunbin’s return, was both welcome and threatening. It was the news he had been waiting for, yet it also posed a danger to Lady Kwon. Still, one thing was certain—this was an advantageous shield for her.
If she bore him a son, the heir apparent, her value would rise immeasurably. At the very least, she would be elevated to the highest rank within the Crown Prince’s household—Yangje (良娣).
Even if Sunbin later gave birth to a son, since Lady Kwon had borne the Crown Prince’s firstborn son, once he ascended the throne he would have grounds to lower Sunbin’s rank.
“Will Yangwon be able to endure this?”
This was the Crown Prince’s greatest concern. In the stormy world of the palace, Lady Kwon was not ruthless enough to survive.
A concubine, to protect both her life and that of her children, had to either be ruthless or bow submissively.
But Lady Kwon was neither ruthless nor the type to lower herself before others. She was sincere, virtuous, and gentle—traits ill-suited to survival in the palace.
Even so, this was a great blessing. Two years ago, after the tragic loss of a child, and with no other signs of pregnancy among the women, Queen Yangjeon had been silently troubled. Now, to see pregnancy again in Yangwon was a cause for joy.
“Is this not truly a blessing?”
“It is indeed. I hear great rewards have even been bestowed upon Lady Yangwon’s family.”
The wet nurses could no longer chatter freely in the same room—Hong-a and the two young princes had grown too old.
After overhearing the nurses gossip about which concubine currently enjoyed the most favor, Hyeon had once innocently asked his mother, Lady Gui, “Is being favored a good thing?” Since then, the women had learned to speak quietly outside.
But the princes were only five years old, far more fond of play than adult talk, and often careless.
Hong-a, pressing her small ear against the door, focused intently on the nurses’ voices.
“This time, it must be a boy.”
“That would be the best outcome, indeed.”
Having lived here until the age of four, Hong-a had no choice but to learn and adapt.
For a woman in the palace to survive, she had to either rise above others or bow beneath them. Here in the Crown Prince’s residence, “rising above” meant only one thing: being the first to bear a son.
Though Hong-a found it difficult to understand—having once lived in a world where all were equal—here, only men could become kings, and thus the heir was essential.
Her mother was already in a better position than others. Among all the Crown Prince’s women—even the Crown Princess—not a single one had shown signs of pregnancy.
Her mother had conceived three times. She had the potential, and that potential translated into power within the household. The problem was that her mother lacked the ability to wield it.
“Still, Lady Yangwon seems so burdened. Perhaps because of her constant worries, her morning sickness is even worse than when she carried young Lady Hong-a.”
“Are her worries not needless? Even if Lady Sunbin returns, who would dare harm a pregnant concubine? Before, she did not know of it, but now everyone does. And there are far too many eyes watching.”
“Her Ladyship is simply too gentle.”
Mother was a good person. Hong-a wholeheartedly agreed.
But she was not someone suited to rivalries, contests, or ambition. Even holding the strong card of carrying the heir, she still feared Sunbin and never once thought of checking the other concubines.
In truth, she was more suited to be Crown Princess, with her heart that embraced and loved others.
But Hong-a wished that day would come as late as possible. For her mother to become Crown Princess meant that she would soon give birth to the heir, and that meant she would die.
“…Ah.”
“….”
“…Hong-a!”
So absorbed in listening to the adults’ talk, Hong-a failed to answer the voices of the two young princes behind her.
Oh dear. This will be troublesome.
Swallowing her stray thoughts, Hong-a turned from the door without even bothering to hide her annoyed expression.
“Hmm?”
“We’ve been calling you!”
“Hong-a, three times already!”
“Really? Well… I just want a snack.”
Such flimsy excuses worked well enough on the princes—the topic quickly shifted to food.
“Not long ago, I tasted yugwa (honey rice cakes). They were delicious.”
“I only had one. My older brother took mine.”
Apparently, the palace had distributed yugwa among the concubines. But with so many brothers, sharing often led to quarrels.
Having spent her reincarnated life with these younger uncles, Hong-a—though mentally far more mature—knew well how to handle them.
“They say the Confectionery Hall has lots of sweets.”
She casually offered.
“The Confectionery Hall?”
“That’s where they make tea snacks, isn’t it?”
“Then they must make yugwa too?”
“Of course, and plenty of it!”
Give them the slightest hint, and the boys could follow the trail themselves. They weren’t especially bright, but when it came to things like this, they were surprisingly sharp.
The conversation shifted just as she wanted, and Hong-a felt relieved.
“How should we sneak some out?”
“Why sneak? We’re princes.”
“Because it’s more fun that way!”
To an outsider, their talk might sound silly, but this was their daily life. Soon the princes had completely forgotten Hong-a and were happily hatching schemes.
At times they seemed foolish, but their enthusiasm made them appear wiser than their age.
Hmm. I should tell them about the little hole by the Confectionery Hall later.
She remembered overhearing such details from the maids. With small clues like this, Hong-a made herself valuable, and so the princes still liked to keep her close.
Well, it’s not like we’ll be together forever. In just a couple years we’ll be kept apart, and later they’ll marry, and we’ll drift further away.
If it was only for two or three years, there was no harm in playing along. And truthfully, Hong-a found their antics amusing.
Like that time, not long ago, when the princes tried to make spinning tops from an old wooden pillow used by Court Lady Kim.
They had asked eunuchs to carve the wood, but their clumsy chopping only split it into two crooked, useless pieces.
Just as the boys were about to scold the eunuchs with all the authority of princes, Lord Gye-yang, eldest son of Lady Kim, happened by. At a glance, he recognized his mother’s treasured pillow.
Quick-witted, the princes fled, while Gye-yang chased them across the palace, wooden fragments in hand, vowing to catch his little brothers. The story was still a favorite tale within the palace.
Eventually, the princes were caught by their father, the King. Terrified, they confessed everything, and so the truth was revealed.
Who on earth thinks to turn a pillow into a spinning top?
It was foolish, yet hilarious.
And so Hong-a repaid their entertainment by providing ideas or hints for new mischief.
“Young Mistress, Court Lady.”
“Ah, aren’t you from Jaseondang?”
Still smiling at her uncles, Hong-a quickly sat upright by the door at the sound of voices outside.
“The Crown Prince sends word: the Young Mistress must be escorted back to Yeonggyeongdang at once.”
“But it is not yet time for her to leave Suwanjae. Has something happened?”
“Well…”
The maid’s voice dropped low. Hong-a strained her ears not to miss a word.
“Someone just came from Hyeonsimgak.”
“Hyeonsimgak?”
“Yes. The Crown Princess is showing signs of pregnancy. Since Hyeonsimgak is small and inconvenient, she has asked permission to return to Jaseondang.”
“What? The Crown Princess is pregnant?”
Hong-a had to bite her lips to stifle her cry of shock.
“His Highness said he would report to His Majesty first and then decide… but regardless, since the Eastern Palace is now in uproar, he wished for the Young Mistress to return at once.”
“I see. I understand. Tell him we shall hurry back.”
The princes were still happily chattering, unaware. But Hong-a’s eyes grew hazy. In a single moment, her mother’s only shield—the status of being the sole pregnant consort—was shattered.
Unlike Hong-a’s stunned despair, the palace’s uproar did not subside for days.
The Eastern Palace had been starved of children—until now, only the Young Mistress, Hong-a, existed. But now, with two women showing pregnancy at once, chaos was inevitable.
Sunbin, who had been under house arrest at Hyeonsimgak, was released earlier than scheduled.
However, after much deliberation, Queen Yangjeon decided that rather than return her to Jaseondang, Sunbin would stay in the Central Palace for the time being. Housing two pregnant women under one roof would only breed trouble.
“The Crown Princess will reside in the Central Palace for now. Her Majesty the Queen herself intends to oversee her prenatal care.”
“Since Her Majesty has already raised many fine sons, it will surely be an excellent example.”
The Crown Prince even came personally to comfort Lady Kwon. Seeing her face thin and haggard, he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“You need not worry any longer. The birth of the heir is, after all, the duty of the principal wife. From now on, Yangwon, think only of safely delivering your child—son or daughter.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall remember your words.
