Chapter 7
What does it feel like to be born into royalty?
It was a question I had heard countless times throughout my twenty-seven years of life.
What’s it like to live as a princess?
What’s it like to be born royal?
To those vague, curious questions, I always gave the same answer.
I’m no different from you.
There was nothing special about being born a princess in a country that was neither an absolute monarchy nor a constitutional one.
In a royal family where even the purchase of a single pen required final approval from the Secretariat, it was the conglomerates—who could spend their own money freely—who were truly privileged.
After all, every expense used to maintain the dignity of the imperial family came from the people’s taxes.
In short, the lives of the royal family had to be transparent. Public. Constantly scrutinized.
Did that mean the imperial family owned no personal assets?
Not quite.
Tourism revenue from cultural heritage sites owned by the imperial family—including Gyeongbokgung Palace—belonged to them. They also operated businesses under imperial brands, as well as the Imperial Bank.
Even so, everything was open to public oversight.
Living an extravagant, indulgent life as a princess was simply impossible.
Of course… we may enjoy more than the average citizen.
But for me, there was nothing to enjoy.
Being under the public’s gaze from the moment of birth was suffocating.
Even when people said things that were too kind—too flattering to be real—
Even after the ban on my return was lifted and I finally came back to the palace, I often cried beneath my blankets.
Because the burden of maintaining dignity as a royal—while enduring persecution from my own father and the Empress Dowager—was unbearable.
Yes. The royal family must preserve its dignity.
But—
“What the hell is this? Seriously? Are you insane?”
Sway sway ♥?
Does that even make sense?
“Are you happy?” I snapped.
“Where exactly am I supposed to be happy?”
Seong Chi-woon proudly held out a tablet.
“It already has over 210,000 likes. Less than an hour after the first post went up, you passed 800,000 followers.”
……No. Absolutely not.
“Please check the comments as well.”
— Wooooow she’s so cuteㅠㅠ I’ll live in this country forever
— National fortune +100
— Put this photo in history textbooks immediately
— We should’ve burned the princess’s passport fifteen years ago
“And yet,” I muttered, “I’m a public servant.”
“Originally,” Seong Chi-woon replied calmly, “controversy is buried under even bigger controversy.”
I felt like I was losing my mind.
Letting out a deep sigh, I shut my eyes. That wasn’t even the real problem.
No matter how I looked at it, the future had shifted—again.
In my previous life, I didn’t create my official account until five months later.
Either way, this wasn’t a good sign.
Is this… a premonition that my death is approaching again?
Before worrying about that—
“Fine. Fine. Just tell me the password.”
Since it was my account, I thought I should manage it myself while I was still in the palace.
You never knew what kind of comments might appear on the next post.
“Why?” he asked.
“You said it was my account.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“…What?”
“I can’t hand it over to a princess who’s basically a ticking time bomb.”
Yes. Of course.
“Do whatever you want.”
I had no comeback, especially since he was technically right.
Honestly, official accounts weren’t important anyway.
With a sense of resignation, I scooped up a forkful of salad and shoved it into my mouth.
“Oh, by the way,” he added casually, “for now, your concept is Royal Cutie Princess.”
“Oh, wonderful. My life just got harder.”
“How about Refreshing Lovely Princess?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m also considering Innocent Vitamin Princess.”
They were all equally horrifying.
So shocked I lost my appetite, I set my plate down.
“But why are you so invested in me?” I asked abruptly. “You’re leaving soon anyway, aren’t you?”
I didn’t give him time to respond.
“You secured a professorship in the U.S., didn’t you?”
Silence fell.
He looked at me suspiciously—clearly wondering how I knew. I wiped my mouth calmly, meeting his gaze.
I had planned to brush it off as insider information.
Instead, I got an unexpected answer.
“I declined.”
“…Why?”
Another variable.
In my previous life, Seong Chi-woon left the imperial family three months after my return.
“I’ll report once the official schedule is finalized. For now, get some rest.”
He neatly dodged my question.
“Thanks to you, Princess, I’ve got a mountain of work.”
Seeing him check his watch while speaking lightly, I stopped pressing further.
“Yes, Princess?”
“What?”
“Please don’t cause any trouble.”
“I’ll try.”
My blunt reply didn’t faze him. The experienced Seong Chi-woon merely smiled.
“If you misbehave again, the next post will be Princess Nyangnyang—”
“No! I won’t! I said I won’t!”
As Chi-woon left Baekya Palace, he stopped and looked back.
…Why?
There was no answer to the princess’s question.
Even he didn’t fully understand it himself.
They had already rented a house in Boston. The plan was to leave after the princess settled back into the palace—three months, at most.
But suddenly, a long-buried guilt surfaced.
This child was never meant to be cast out.
When he first visited the palace with his uncle—the Chief Secretary—
He witnessed everything. The false accusation. The exile.
And yet, he had done nothing.
He lacked the authority. Worse—he lacked the courage to interfere in the internal affairs of the imperial family.
That unspoken debt gnawed at him.
“Pathetic guilt,” he muttered, laughing bitterly at himself.
The second night in the palace arrived.
After successfully slipping past every court lady—including Lady Cheon—I headed south.
Secretly, of course.
The southern district was packed with officials’ residences and guards’ quarters.
Beyond a long corridor and a low wall lay the southern gate—the route used by palace staff.
I walked with hunched shoulders, hands stuffed deep into my loose gray tracksuit.
A wide-brimmed hat hid my face.
Anyone would mistake me for Imperial Person No. 1.
A taxi will arrive shortly.
Okay.
Sneaking out was inconvenient, but unavoidable.
As a national symbol, any outing by the imperial family was directly tied to security.
In simple terms—you couldn’t leave alone.
And the more someone tells you not to do something, the more irresistible it becomes.
If Seong Chi-woon found out, he’d definitely stop me.
They’d threaten me with something worse than Princess Kitty.
Shuddering, I slipped through the southern gate unnoticed.
A taxi arrived moments later.
Just as I reached for the door, a bright light flashed nearby.
Frowning, I instinctively looked toward it.
A car approaching the southern gate slowed—then stopped beside me.
“Oh—what the—”
I quickly dove into the taxi and shouted,
“Don’t take pictures—just take me to the hottest place in Seoul!”
“Yes, then Insadong it is. You must work for the royal family.”
“Yes,” I replied smoothly. “I work at a fruit shop.”
“Oh! Have you ever seen the princess?”
“Haha. Not yet.”
The conversation ended awkwardly.
Why was I this excited?
Had I ever gone out alone like this in my past life?
Back then, everything was prearranged—fixed schedules, ceremonial vehicles.
I had never truly seen my own country.
How did I survive those two years that felt like a prison?
Once the official schedule began, that prison would return.
That was why I ran.
If not now, I might never have freedom again.
Ah… I’m sleepy.
My head slowly tilted as the car rocked gently.
“Oh my… but why does that car keep following us?”
I think I heard something in my half-sleep.
But I couldn’t be sure.
“We’ve arrived.”
Before I knew it, the taxi had stopped. I stretched my stiff arms.
“Thank you.”
Stepping out of the car, cold night air brushed against my skin.
“Mmm… refreshing.”
I inhaled deeply.
The night city. Neon signs blazing. Crowds everywhere.
Just as I was about to step forward—
“Princess Lee Seol?”
……What?
