Chapter 04
At the time, the Queen Dowager Chuncho was sixteen. The Crown Prince—the first prince—was already thirty-six, and the current king was twenty-five.
Her father, Kim Sang-yeop, had been a fallen yangban who repeatedly failed even the preliminary civil service exam. Yet thanks to his daughter’s advantageous marriage, he rose in a single leap to the position of Minister of Justice. And what a post that was.
It was the highest office in the Ministry of Justice, a senior second-rank position. He oversaw laws and litigation and stood just below the Left State Councillor. For a man who could not even pass the licentiate exam, it was an excessive honor, but the late king dismissed his officials’ objections, saying even that was not enough reward for the parents who had given him such a young and beautiful queen.
And that was not all. Her older brother, once a layabout who haunted local gambling dens, was granted the post of magistrate.
She was not a peerless beauty to topple nations, but sending a pretty daughter into a noble household with hopes of striking it rich had paid off beyond measure. For several years while the late king lived, father and son strutted about as though the world were theirs.
Yet the Queen Dowager herself was quiet. Even when her father and brother wore down the threshold of the queen’s quarters, she usually turned them away, rarely meeting them. Nor did she ever whisper requests into the late king’s ear.
As queen, she quietly managed the inner court and never once raised her voice.
She seldom left her residence, and when she happened to encounter the princes—the late king’s sons—she would exchange a few gentle pleasantries, never involving herself deeply or acting familiar.
If anything, whenever the princes greeted her and cautiously inquired after her well-being, she would reply vaguely, “Thanks to you, all is well,” and then quickly turn away and disappear.
Afterward, to avoid meeting them again, she would change the time of her walks or simply remain within her own garden, noticeably reducing her outings.
The current king revealed his ambition for the throne when the late king’s illness worsened and preparations began to pass the crown to the Crown Prince. The prince obstructed the transfer with all manner of excuses, and once the king passed away, he began to question the Crown Prince’s health.
The Crown Prince was gentle and virtuous, but frail since childhood. The halls where he resided were always thick with the smell of medicine. No matter what remedies he tried, his complexion remained pale.
Not long after the late king’s death, the Crown Prince himself suddenly died. Soon, a bloody purge swept through the palace. Even before his funeral was complete, soldiers stormed not only the palace but also the residences of the princes who lived outside.
The king accused both his half-brothers and full brothers alike of poisoning the Crown Prince and branded them all traitors, executing them one by one.
During this time, the Queen Dowager’s own family was not spared. Her father, who had once strutted about as Minister of Justice, behaved foolishly even as the late king lay dying and ultimately met his end on the execution ground. Her brother was exiled to a distant island.
Through it all, the Queen Dowager’s quarters remained as silent as a grave. Though one might expect her to cry out at the injustice and beg for mercy, she simply passed her days walking within her halls with the young Prince Je-an or reading.
When the purge ended, the only survivors were Princess Jeonghye, the king’s full sister, and Prince Je-an, born of the Queen Dowager.
Queen Dowager Kim looked at the king. His demeanor—and even his attire—were shockingly lax for receiving her. He did not wear his royal robe, and his jacket hung half open, exposing his broad chest. Across it ran a long, faint scar. It seemed he, too, had not come easily to that throne.
The Queen Dowager slowly bowed her head. The king, who had been watching to see how far she would go, widened his eyes. Her forehead touched the floor. With both hands braced, she struck her head against the ground three times.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to make me out to be a monster?”
“Traitory, you say!”
She struck her head again as she cried out. This was her only chance to save her son. Once she left this room, Prince Je-an’s fate would be sealed. She could not allow that.
“Ryun is only thirteen. What power could he possibly have to commit treason? Isn’t that utterly absurd? These are all lies meant to cloud Your Majesty’s judgment. Please, withdraw this unjust charge!”
Somewhere, a village was burning, innocent lives being snuffed out.
The family of Prince Je-an’s betrothed—though it had been no more than words, with no formal agreement—had been branded traitors and destroyed. But the Queen Dowager could think only of her son’s safety. Even that seemed precarious given her limited power.
“Please rise.”
“Spare Prince Je-an!”
The king stared at the back of her bowed head. She was cunning and stubborn. Had she acted her age and been naive, she might have been easier to deal with. But she had never once acted as he expected, and that made him uneasy.
“Tsk.”
He rose, adjusting his clothes.
“Enough. Rise, Your Majesty. How monstrous do you intend to make me seem?”
“Prince Je-an…”
“I had no intention of harming him in the first place. I only needed an example.”
The Queen Dowager slowly lifted herself. Her forehead was swollen red. If she went out like that, the servants would gossip endlessly. The king frowned.
“We must send an envoy to the Great Nation.”
Her gaze snapped to him, eyes bloodshot.
“He is only thirteen.”
“So?”
The king’s sharp eyes bore into her.
“To such a distant place? And how am I to trust Your Majesty with him?”
Who knew what might happen on such a long journey? It would be no great task to eliminate a helpless child along the way.
“Absolutely not.”
The king picked up a bowl of water but spat it out before swallowing.
“Is no one there?”
At his shout, a pale attendant rushed in.
“Find out who attended my bed last night. Make them drink this water.”
He slammed the bowl down. The attendant fell prostrate, trembling.
“Your Majesty, please spare me! I failed to inspect it properly—”
“Silence! Go and find them at once!”
When the attendant left, the king turned back to the Queen Dowager.
“You see? I’m in no position to protect anyone. Surely you don’t think all this bloodshed is entirely my will? I can barely safeguard my own life.”
He continued, frowning.
“I know the journey is long and dangerous. But it will be safer than here. Whether you trust me or not is irrelevant. For Prince Je-an’s safety, this is the only option.”
The Queen Dowager bit her lower lip. She realized this was as far as she could go. No matter how she pleaded, nothing more would come of it.
“I understand. But—”
“I will assign a suitable escort. After that, it will depend on Prince Je-an’s fate. Thirteen is not so young. Steel your heart.”
Tears slipped silently from her eyes. After a lifetime of pretending not to see or hear, it felt as though she were falling into an endless abyss.
“Come here!”
Kwon Seok-cheol, his hand wrapped in white bandages, looked wretched. His clothes were torn and scorched, his face gaunt with exhaustion. But he dared not return home in this state.
The grand gate opened silently, and the steward bowed deeply.
“My lord has been waiting.”
He gestured toward the men’s quarters. Seok-cheol followed slowly.
‘Ninety-nine rooms.’
In truth, it likely exceeded a hundred. The opulent mansion was lined with marble at every step, its vast garden surpassing even the king’s residence, filled with ancient trees and fantastical rocks. Music drifted through the air as though a banquet were underway.
“Please wait here.”
The room he was shown into was lavish beyond measure. As he sat on a red silk cushion, the master of the house, Chief State Councillor Choi Yun-seok, soon appeared.
As Seok-cheol hurried to bow, Choi waved him off.
“Tell me what happened.”
Seok-cheol swallowed hard.
‘Under the pretext of royal command, annihilate the Hwang family and kill every man in the village to prevent future trouble. The women are to be killed under the guise of accidents.’
It had been a brutal but clean order. Yet the result had not been so tidy.
“Tsk. Judging by your appearance, you failed.”
Choi clicked his tongue.
“No, my lord. I killed Hwang Yun-seok and his son myself. The rest perished when the cave collapsed and burned.”
He presented a charred ornamental pendant as proof. Choi studied it, then nodded, tossing him a pouch of coins.
“Well done.”
“I did not do this for reward—”
“I know. Still, take it. And, as it happens, I have guests gathered for drinks…”
