WDCDF 15

Chapter 15

If she left now, it would be before the morning audience even began, so it wouldn’t be hard to send the grumbling king away. The king seemed extremely reluctant to incur her displeasure — and she knew why.

It wasn’t even the official start time yet, but already worn out, Seohwa leaned halfway against the wall and let out a deep sigh.

If that’s a curse, then the pain must be considerable.

She didn’t know much about curses, but she understood that what she saw was the curse itself. As Yongyong had said, it was fire — pure and simple. Which meant Ryeohwan was suffering searing agony every single minute, every single second.

Though… I doubt the pain is the only thing.

Recalling the expression on Ryeohwan’s face when he had blocked the assassin’s arrow, Seohwa furrowed her brow. She couldn’t read minds, but she knew the arrow had burned to ash before even touching her. And she knew that was Ryeohwan’s doing.

But… is that how curses usually work?

Maybe I should look it up in some old books.

Of course, anything about curses would be classified as forbidden texts, so even finding such a book would be a challenge. But it seemed worth trying. Still, there was an even better method. Seohwa deliberately cleared her throat so someone would hear.

“I wish someone would tell me how to break a curse.”

Casting a sidelong glance at Yongyong as she made her loaded remark, she saw him quickly turn his head away.

[Even after seeing what that man did earlier, you can still say that? There’s nothing to wait for — we should leave immediately.]

“Are you serious?”

[I ran for ten years. What reason is there I can’t run again? Didn’t you hear what he said? That once the curse is lifted, he’ll have no need for the Last Princess of a ruined kingdom — and he’ll come running to kill you.]

At Yongyong’s blunt words, Seohwa gave an awkward laugh. The small dragon’s scales bristled, radiating hostility toward Ryeohwan, as if blaming him for everything that had happened.

Seohwa, however, took a more objective view.

“Even if we managed to run away, the same thing would just happen again. I can’t live as a fugitive forever.”

[But—]

“And you too, Yongyong. If you lose any more divine power here, you’ll vanish entirely. Are you okay with that?”

Strictly speaking, he would return to being part of nature, but still… Her question made Yongyong’s eyes narrow.

[That’s why I told you to build a shrine deep in the mountains and gather people to make offerings!]

“…And shout at the top of our lungs for them to come and get me? Besides, that way, divine power would scatter faster than it gathers. Stop being so stubborn. There’s only one way for you to ascend — you know it, don’t you?”

For nearly ten years, Seohwa had been on the run from Ryeo’s pursuit, always knowing that a day like today would come. It was simple: she was sensitive to divine energy. More than that — she carried the blood of the imperial family said to have made a contract with the Azure Dragon a thousand years ago.

Because of that, when a curse befell the royal family of Ryeo, she didn’t need anyone to tell her — she sensed it immediately.

At first, Seohwa had intended to lift the curse right away. She had even thought she might be able to bargain her life for it, if she was lucky. But she was a complete novice in the matter of curses — the training allowed to her in the shrine had been very limited.

[I still don’t want to.]

And so the only one she could ask for help was the Azure Dragon himself. Despite his appearance and behavior being more like a pesky younger brother than a god, he was still a dragon.

Yet whenever Seohwa brought up the subject of curses, he would shudder and fall silent.

It was said that an imugi needed a thousand years of cultivation before it could become a true dragon. And in the very year he had finally ascended to that status, a rebellion broke out. Given that history, it was hardly surprising that Yongyong hated humans, and loathed royalty most of all. Understanding his resentment, Seohwa had stopped pressing him on the subject — until now.

“Even if I’ll be in danger if we don’t break the curse?”

Instead, she had spent ten full years with him, carrying the unascended dragon on her shoulder and making sure he didn’t fade away. At first, it was just out of a minimal sense of responsibility — but that wasn’t the only reason.

She reached toward her shoulder. Yongyong sighed in disapproval but climbed up her arm nonetheless. In the early days, he had bristled at her as much as anyone else, but over the years, that had faded. To Yongyong, Seohwa was a friend, a comrade, and sometimes the only support he had left in this world.

Drawing her arm in so she could look him in the eyes, Seohwa’s gaze turned pale blue, as it did whenever she used divine power.

“For my sake… tell me.”

Her expression was deadly serious. Yongyong realized there was no way to avoid this conversation.

“Yongyong.”

[I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m tired. Let’s talk about this later — I need to rest.]

Normally, Seohwa would have backed down at this point. When it came to the curse, she had always respected his opinion. But this time, the matter couldn’t be delayed any longer.

“No. You know exactly what I’m asking.”

It was like looking behind herself and seeing nothing but a sheer cliff — nowhere left to retreat.

Eyes dark and deep as a stormy sea, Yongyong spoke firmly.

The capital, surrounded by the imperial city at the heart of Ryeo.

Choi Myeonghak, the capital’s Chief of Police, was famous for being devoted to his wife. He had a loving spouse, a respected position, and the king’s trust — a life many would call a success. The only thing lacking was a child.

So when news spread that Choi Myeonghak had adopted a distant relative as his foster daughter, gossip flew across the capital. Some speculated he was planning to bring in a son-in-law to continue the family line; others whispered that being the king’s right-hand man wasn’t enough for him and he had his eye on the position of queen consort.

Those with experience in politics were convinced it was the latter.

That was why his name came up among the high-ranking officials gathered for the morning audience. Yi Pan, an elder statesman with hair gone completely white, spoke without preamble.

“So, she’s a distant relation?”

The man walking beside him replied promptly.

“Yes. A plague struck and killed her whole family — she was the only one who survived.”

This summer, several towns had been ravaged by disease, and even the court hadn’t been able to keep track of every tiny, isolated village affected. Yi Pan clicked his tongue as he recalled Choi Myeonghak’s family tree. She wasn’t even an adopted son, but an adopted daughter — so what was the point of measuring how close they were?

He had only a young daughter himself, so he couldn’t send a marriage proposal, and he had no personal friendship with Choi besides. Still, who would have guessed that big, bearish Choi would start playing fox?

Clicking his tongue again, Yi Pan thought of his daughter, still five years from adulthood.

“Tsk. Every year it’s something — plague, flood, wildfire… hmph.”

“Well, still better than in the days of the Sera kingdom. Back then, disasters weren’t enough — they taxed us at seventy percent on top of it.”

“They can lower taxes all they want, it won’t solve the root problem. So, a girl, you say? The timing’s perfect.”

Sensing the meaning in Yi Pan’s words, the other official looked uncomfortable. He was a civil official, but in his youth he had trained for strength in the Choi household.

“I doubt Lord Choi brought her in for that reason. If she’s all alone, perhaps he just felt sorry for her—”

“That’s possible. He does take in the children of provincial officials and ruined noble families as students.”

“That’s true.”

“But one way or another, there needs to be a queen chosen. She’s the right age, just past twenty. And being a foster daughter, yet still of his kin — that wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”

At his question, the official nodded. In both their minds, the talk of Choi’s foster daughter faded into the background — only the queen selection remained.

“Do you think it will happen this year?”

“It must.”

“True… It’s already overdue. How many years has it been now without a mistress of the Inner Palace?”

Traditionally, royal marriages happened young. But Ryeohwan had passed twenty without showing any interest in marrying, so naturally people were talking.

“Whether it’s late or early isn’t the point right now. And you — take my advice — don’t ever bring up the queen selection in front of Dongjin.”

“No matter what, surely His Majesty wouldn’t think of putting a young prince on the throne when he’s still so healthy?”

“Hey!”

Yi Pan’s sharp rebuke made the younger man frown deeply. The young official, son of a powerful family, had passed the civil service exam early and risen quickly to a senior post. He was upright, too — rare in a court where most were sly as snakes.

Yi Pan liked such men — those who didn’t calculate only their own profit, whose eyes weren’t clouded by greed. But he also knew they were fragile things, easily broken. This one had strong backing, but with the king having no heir, who could match Dongjin, who held the young prince in his grasp?

Well… there’s also Baekun of the Nam family.

Thinking of Nam Dowon, Yi Pan nodded. The young official, perhaps misunderstanding, changed expression to reply — but then froze in place, staring ahead.

When Yi Pan turned to see what had stopped him, he, too, fell silent a beat later. The difference was that while the younger man’s face went pale, Yi Pan’s went white enough to turn bluish.

“Y-your Majesty!”

It was the king himself, returning from leaping over the Choi household’s wall at dawn straight to the palace.