CHAPTER~01
“The Princess has passed away.”
My daughter is dead.
My one and only child, the princess of this nation, drowned—taken by the water.
Su-ryeon pushed through the wailing court ladies, her steps weak and unsteady.
Wherever she walked, people who had been quietly wiping their tears parted for her like the Red Sea.
Soon, her eyes fell upon her daughter, lying motionless.
A child who should have run to her, bright and lively, welcoming her with open arms.
Now she lay still. Unmoving. A sight so unfamiliar and terrifying that Su-ryeon couldn’t breathe.
“Y-Your Majesty, the Empress…”
One court lady called to her in a voice heavy with grief, but nothing could stop Su-ryeon from moving forward.
Before she knew it, she had reached the bedside. She bowed her head.
Her hand trembled as she touched her daughter’s face—pale, almost blue, drained of all warmth.
“Sehee…”
The child who had always been soft and warm to the touch was now cold as ice.
She shouldn’t be this cold.
Someone had to warm her. She needed warmth.
Su-ryeon hurriedly pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around the small body, but nothing changed.
“…Sehee?”
No matter how many times she called, there was no answer. And finally, Su-ryeon crumpled to the floor.
“Your Majesty!”
A court lady rushed to support her as she collapsed.
Su-ryeon screamed at the empty air. Her voice echoed through the hall, raw and devastating.
“Why… Why!”
Only earlier today, before Su-ryeon left the palace, the child had been perfectly fine.
She had hooked her tiny pinky around Su-ryeon’s, begging her to read at her bedside when she returned.
And now that same child greeted her as a cold, lifeless body.
At Su-ryeon’s anguished cry, Jeong-ah, the princess’s head lady-in-waiting, dropped to her knees.
“I… I deserve death, Your Majesty. Her Highness suddenly wished to play hide-and-seek…”
Jeong-ah’s tear-stained face twisted with guilt.
“So I was the seeker and went to look for Her Highness, but…”
Her voice trembled, her words slow and broken.
“No matter how hard I searched, I could not find her, so I called for help and we searched together, but…”
She hung her head, unable to continue.
Another court lady spoke for her.
“When we finally found Her Highness… she was already floating motionless in the Hyangwonjeong pond…”
“Ah…”
A groan tore from Su-ryeon’s chest.
Hyangwonjeong—an isolated pavilion in the middle of a pond.
A place Su-ryeon had warned her daughter countless times never to approach because of the deep water surrounding it.
But the princess was only five years old.
Five years old—far too young to understand danger.
A horrific accident. Too horrific.
“I deserve death…! Your Majesty, please forgive me…!”
Jeong-ah fell forward, her forehead hitting the floor as she sobbed.
Su-ryeon didn’t even have the strength to blame her.
No—more truthfully, she no longer had the strength for anything at all.
And blaming Jeong-ah wouldn’t bring the child back.
The voices of the surrounding attendants bled together into meaningless noise. Nothing registered in her mind. She felt hollow, shattered.
Then—
“Your Majesty.”
Su-ryeon’s husband entered.
Lee Jun.
The Emperor of the Daehan Empire—now in the year 2030, in the 133rd year of its continued history—and Su-ryeon’s husband.
“Where is the Princess?”
His clothes were disheveled, as if he had sprinted the entire way upon hearing the news.
He rushed to their daughter’s side.
Like Su-ryeon, he stroked the child’s cold face again and again before suddenly rising to his feet.
Then—
*Smack!*
Without warning, his hand struck Su-ryeon’s cheek.
He didn’t seem to care that many eyes were watching; his voice was harsh with rage.
“What was the mother doing while her child was dying? What were you doing that you didn’t even notice?!”
Her cheek burned where he had hit her.
To be struck by her husband—not comforted, but blamed—made her chest ache unbearably.
But Su-ryeon said nothing. She had no defense. It did feel like it was her fault.
This child had been so difficult to conceive.
Every child is precious, but Sehee… Sehee had been a miracle after years of IVF.
Though the imperial family grumbled because she was born a girl and not a boy, both parents had cherished her deeply.
The Emperor had even sought to amend the succession laws so that a princess could inherit the throne.
That was how precious Sehee was.
But Lee Jun didn’t stop at striking her. His anger, born of grief, lashed out entirely at his wife.
“I should have known something was wrong the moment you started that ridiculous women’s organization!”
Su-ryeon had founded a women’s rights organization, believing that for Sehee to become heir someday, the nation had to progress.
But the Empress Dowager had despised the idea.
*“Stop doing unnecessary things and behave quietly at home. When women act out, countries fall.”*
Su-ryeon couldn’t say anything in return.
Because every word he said felt like truth.
Yes, she created it for her daughter—but in the end, she lost her because of it.
If only she hadn’t left the palace today.
If only she had taken Sehee with her.
Then… then her daughter would still be alive.
Silent tears streamed down Su-ryeon’s face.
—
A heavy gloom lingered in Taewonjeon, where the funeral rites were being held.
Su-ryeon sat blankly before the lone coffin of her daughter.
She still couldn’t accept that the child was gone.
The entire nation mourned.
And at the same time, the news and social media overflowed with both accusations and pity directed at Su-ryeon.
She couldn’t breathe.
Her reputation had always been poor in the press; she didn’t care about insults.
But every time she heard someone say *her daughter died because of her*, it felt like hands were closing around her throat.
Because it truly felt like this entire tragedy was her fault.
Because it truly felt like *she* had killed her own child.
Warm tears slipped down her cheeks.
How was she supposed to live in a world without her daughter?
Su-ryeon slowly pushed herself up, placing a trembling hand on the coffin.
“I’m sorry…”
Before letting her daughter go for the final time, she whispered a farewell to the child sleeping inside.
“In the next life… meet a better mother than me.”
Not a mother like her—too busy to play, too tired to read bedtime stories every night.
But someone who would hold her hand every evening and take her to the playground, someone warm and always there.
A tear hanging from her chin fell onto the coffin’s polished surface.
Her hollow voice lingered in the hall.
At that moment, the Empress Dowager, Lady Min, entered.
She clicked her tongue at the sight of her dazed daughter-in-law.
“This is why one must choose the right person to bring into the family. One wrong woman, and look—this is the disaster we end up with.”
Despite losing her own granddaughter, the Empress Dowager showed not a shred of grief.
She had never cared for a princess who could not inherit the throne.
Even when Sehee was born, she hadn’t bothered to see the child until Su-ryeon brought her personally.
And now she looked down at Su-ryeon and issued a cold declaration.
“After the funeral, go somewhere with clean air and rest for a while.”
A pleasant way to phrase it—but it was exile in all but name.
Then, in a sharp, derisive tone, she added:
“After all, what man wants to look at the wife who killed his child?”
