Chapter 96.
Beauty Becomes Poison
All right—let’s look back on everything so far, calmly and objectively.
First, the place that sold the face powder was the marketplace.
The merchant who sold the powder was someone acquainted with Dancheong.
At a glance, he didn’t look like the sort of person who would sell something suspicious.
Well, it’s not like criminals have to look scary!
But still—what reason would an ordinary merchant have to mix poison into his goods?
“Then did someone tamper with the powder after buying it?”
The one who purchased it was Do from the laundry house.
Even that wasn’t completely certain.
In any case, the place where it was ultimately discovered was the Peony Palace.
The current concubine never once mentioned Do.
“It was given to me by the maids of the Peony Palace.”
Why would she use something given by the Peony Palace maids without any suspicion?
She clearly knew that those maids bullied her.
Having lived in the imperial palace for so long, she should have noticed most schemes.
So then why?
Why did the mouse that ate the powder collapse?
“What is that?”
“Amang, why do you have something like that?”
Ahong and Dancheong turned pale and hurriedly grabbed Amang.
They stopped her before her hand could even touch the powder.
The two looked as though they had seen a ghost, recoiling in shock.
No—but even so, wasn’t this a bit much?
“There’s poison in that.”
It meant it was lethal to the human body.
No one knew what would happen if it touched skin.
Especially in a country where medicine was underdeveloped—if her hand were to rot, she might have to have it cut off entirely!
“I don’t want that!”
How inconvenient would life be without a hand?
She might lose her balance while riding a swing and faceplant straight into the ground.
Writing, or even just picking something up—everything would become absurdly difficult.
“Well… thanks for that.”
But wait—didn’t I already touch the powder?
Amang hurriedly examined all ten of her fingers.
The tip of her index finger was slightly swollen, but there was nothing unusual otherwise.
Fortunately, it seemed she’d be fine.
Wow. I almost lost my hand.
This is why careless, unconscious actions are dangerous.
“How did you come to have that?”
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Answer us at once, Amang.”
“The poison didn’t seep into your sleeve, did it?”
Excuse me—could you either worry or interrogate me? Just one, please?
Being bombarded from both sides by Ahong and Dancheong’s voices drained her energy.
They were born from the same womb—how could they be so different?
Are you a T-type or what? Ahong was pure logic, while Dancheong worried first and foremost.
Their personalities were way too different.
“I’m fine. That powder was left behind by the current concubine. She said she received it from the Peony Palace maids. But Brother Dancheong—didn’t you see that powder at the marketplace?”
“Yes. You’re right. It’s definitely something sold in the market.”
“Then at what point was it contaminated?”
If the powder caused this, then the concubine had essentially been poisoned to death.
But who was the culprit?
From the marketplace to the imperial palace, too many people had come into contact with it!
“It wasn’t poison. No trace of poison was found in either body. There were only red, swollen marks covering the skin.”
“Either body?”
“The concubine and Seomnak.”
So… that’s how it ended.
Amang suppressed the tears rising to her throat.
Don’t cry yet. Until we know exactly how they died, you can’t let emotion take over.
She had lived her life relentlessly rational.
She pushed herself harshly so as not to collapse over trivial things.
Once emotions burst, they spilled out like a cracked dam.
So get a grip. Think logically.
“…There’s something strange. There was a maid I met at the laundry house.”
“So what?”
“The concubine said she received the powder from the Peony Palace maids. As you know, they bullied her. They mocked her for not receiving favor and treated their mistress with contempt. But coincidentally, on the very day she received the powder, the Peony Palace maids came to the laundry house.”
“……”
“Geumjin. You remember, right?”
Geumjin trembled, half out of his mind.
After swallowing hard, he remained frozen, unable to take his eyes off the dead mouse.
This was probably the most stimulating moment of his entire life.
“You definitely can’t come see corpses with me.”
You read the sages’ teachings every day, but the moment you face reality, you freeze up.
Amang pulled Geumjin toward her and covered his eyes with her palm.
Because of their height difference, she had to stretch onto her tiptoes.
“I—I remember!”
“You heard that, right?”
“P-Princess, I—I’m fine!”
“What’s wrong with you? You froze up over a mouse. I’ll help you, so just stay still.”
“No!”
“Oh really? Then should I let go?”
“…No.”
Right. Even you know this is better.
Amang thought deeply.
Where did the contamination begin?
Then a scene flashed through her mind.
To stop the Peony Palace maids from harassing Amang at the laundry house, another maid appeared and handed them something.
“That maid named Do—she might be the original owner of this powder.”
“Why do you think that?”
“She gave the powder to the Peony Palace maids to calm them down.”
And Do whispered something to them.
Afterward, the Peony Palace maids left with satisfied smiles.
It had seemed suspicious even then—but now it felt even stranger.
How did she manage to win over those unruly maids?
“You expect us to believe that? There was no poison.”
“Still, Sister—listening to Amang, the Peony Palace maids really do seem suspicious. What kind of maids bully their own mistress?”
“Unthinkable. If my maids ever did that, I’d exterminate their entire clan.”
“Exactly! Then isn’t it possible there’s something that reacts badly with the ingredients of this powder?”
Amang racked her brain, dredging up every palace-intrigue scheme she had ever seen.
Ways to cause a miscarriage came to mind by the dozen—but nothing about face powder.
Well, she did remember one scheme where beads were used to switch the contents of a teapot.
“Please! Believe me!”
She had no choice but to beg.
That T-type wouldn’t move unless she persuaded him logically.
“…You said there was no poison?”
“That’s right. None was extracted.”
“I read a book a few days ago—a collection of strange anecdotes. There was a similar story in it.”
Geumjin gently moved Amang’s hand away from his eyes.
The trembling boy from moments ago was gone.
Instead, his eyes sparkled with excitement at the chance to share his knowledge.
Go, Geumjin!
“There once was a woman from a certain household who loved adornment above all else. Whenever a new rouge appeared in the marketplace, she would beg her parents until she obtained it. She had little interest in anything else—love, men, household duties, all were beneath her concern. In that town, the woman who loved makeup was always considered beautiful, and other women flocked around her.”
Geumjin’s story was surprisingly engaging.
For some reason, Amang recalled her middle school days, when friends crowded around mirrors applying lip tint.
Just her imagination, right?
“One day, a woman with skin as white as snow appeared in that town. She had been sickly since childhood and never saw the sun. Staying indoors all day, her skin became deathly pale. Seeing this, the makeup-loving woman grew jealous, for the townspeople praised the pale woman as far more beautiful.”
Wait—this sounds familiar.
Is she about to poison her rival with a cursed apple?
“So the woman who loved adornment mixed mercury into her face powder to obtain white skin. Each time she applied it, her skin swelled red, but it appeared far whiter than the pale woman’s. In the end, her body broke out in rashes, and she died. A tragedy born of beauty.”
“You said her whole body swelled red?”
“Yes.”
“The concubine’s body was the same.”
Powder mixed with even a small amount of mercury adhered exceptionally well.
In an era ignorant of chemistry, no one would know how dangerous mercury was.
The powder clung perfectly to the skin, making it look whiter than ever…
“Risking your life for makeup.”
That was how much pale skin symbolized beauty.
Amang’s mind snapped awake.
The concubine died from using the powder.
That powder had definitely been left somewhere in the Peony Palace.
Perhaps the concubine never intended to use it at all.
And yet—she did.
“To reenact the Seven Grounds for Divorce, I need that powder!”
A memory surged through her mind like a panorama.
The person who had handed the powder to the concubine with a bright smile was—
“Me.”
Amang’s head throbbed as though she’d been struck.
Strength drained from her body, and she staggered.
If Geumjin hadn’t caught her, she would have collapsed like the heroine of a tragedy.
“Princess, are you all right?”
“…No. That can’t be.”
At this point, one question was unavoidable.
Did they really need the powder to reenact the Seven Grounds?
The concubine had convincingly faked coughing even without Geumjin bringing red dye.
What if it wasn’t acting?
What if Amang had failed to notice the concubine’s genuine suffering?
What if the concubine, already sick without realizing it, had rapidly worsened after leaving the palace?
“What have I done?”
Perhaps the illness even spread to her beloved Seomnak.
Then Amang would be the one who dragged their story into tragedy.
If she hadn’t interfered—if she had just let things flow naturally…
“Stop.”
Get a grip. Think rationally.
No matter what, she had to uncover the truth.
Amang ran—without knowing where she was headed.
Even as Ahong, Dancheong, and Geumjin chased after her, she ran with all her strength.
And the place she arrived at was—
“I will uncover the truth no matter what.”
The emperor’s study.
With a resolute expression, Amang stepped inside.
