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Chapter 32
After returning from the Royal Medical Office, Ham issued orders without hesitation to Kim, the court physician who had been waiting.
“Kim, go directly to Gangnyeongjeon and report to His Majesty. From now on, ensure that every minor change in and around Gangnyeongjeon is reported to me. If the incense changes, if His Majesty’s expression alters in even the slightest way, report it immediately.”
Ham’s voice was not loud, yet it resonated through the space with an unyielding firmness. At the end of his words lay an icy sharpness, pressing Kim so that he bowed even deeper. The wind chimes hanging from the eaves of the East Palace shook and rang in the cold breeze.
“As you command, Your Highness. But regarding Nurse Yoon entering Gangnyeongjeon…”
“I am aware. For now, it will be difficult. Therefore, we must simply observe more, and more carefully.”
After speaking, Ham entered the study of the East Palace, where Jeong Hak-yeon was already comparing the ledger of Seongji Sangdan with the registration log of the Ministry of Personnel. His fingers traced each line slowly, diligently following every name. His movements were slow yet relentless.
“Your Highness, you are late.”
Jeong Hak-yeon’s voice was scolding, yet tinged with concern. He looked up from the ledger to Ham. His gaze was both that of a teacher and a subject.
“I apologize, Master.”
“I hear you caused a commotion at the Royal Medical Office. You must take care. Avoid creating enemies. Do not let emotion lead your actions.”
Although the words were calm, there was a warning hidden within. He feared Ham’s movements when driven by anger. When a prince’s emotions became a blade, that blade inevitably cut the prince himself.
Ham gave no reply to the advice, seemingly uninterested in any counsel. Instead, he changed the subject.
“For the month surrounding the day His Majesty collapsed, I have recorded the rotation of the palace nurses and attendants.”
“I will ensure no one interferes with the records.”
“I ask this of you, Master.”
At the same time, Gangnyeongjeon remained shrouded in silence. The early morning disturbance seemed like a matter from another world, not reaching this place.
Following Ham’s orders, Sangseon quietly observed the room. Even his eyes moved only along the designated path, and he dared not breathe loudly.
Everything was as it had been yesterday. Yet there was an inexplicable unease. For the room of the deceased to remain exactly the same every day was unnatural. Everything else in the world changes, yet only this room remained frozen.
A chill ran through Sangseon. He rubbed his arms to dispel it and finally examined the king’s face. Apart from the bluish marks formed by Saenggi-hwan and Cheonnam-seong, the king’s face remained peaceful, as if lost in a deep sleep.
“Still no change today, then.”
He muttered to himself, almost whispering, and marked in a small ledger: “No change (無).” before leaving the room.
A cold winter wind swept through the bedchamber. At that moment, the deceased king’s index finger twitched ever so slightly. Unfortunately, no one witnessed it.
“Minister, may I visit home briefly?”
“…Ask him yourself.”
Ham’s words continued to swirl in Do-jun’s mind.
By the frozen well, the midnight water still breathed icy cold. Park Do-jun drew a bucket of water and dipped his hand in. The chill bit into his bones. As his fingers numbed, his thoughts remained scattered. His reflection on the water’s surface was distorted. He wanted to look away, but the water reflected no lies.
So he had to go home. He had to face his father, Park Won-gil, seated in the living quarters. It was time to confront the inescapable truth.
“By the way, Minister Park looks unwell. I will report this to Chief Jeomjeong; you should leave the office early today.”
“My apologies.”
The colleague’s voice was kind, yet Do-jun found even that kindness burdensome. He left the Royal Medical Office with his head bowed, his steps heavy. He walked almost mindlessly until he reached home and headed straight for the living quarters.
“Father, it’s Do-jun. May I come in briefly?”
Seeing Do-jun, who should have been at the office, Park Won-gil startled and pushed aside his drink. The living quarters smelled strongly of alcohol, and he was already quite drunk.
“You should be at the Medical Office. Why are you here at this hour?”
Park Won-gil’s voice trembled. He immediately sensed something unusual in his son’s gaze. Do-jun crossed the threshold and slowly looked at his father.
“Did you send Nurse Yoon to Hyeminseo?”
“Yes! That’s right. I did it to maintain order at the Medical Office. I couldn’t stand seeing the prince wandering around.”
Do-jun’s brows twitched at his father’s smile. Park Won-gil’s pride was twisted in that grin. Do-jun understood its meaning.
“This wasn’t just your own decision, was it? Did someone else interfere?”
“Interfere? Orders come from above in this world. But it’s not your concern.”
At that moment, Do-jun’s gaze changed. Surprise turned into anger, and anger into despair.
“Is it right to cast me aside just because I earned the prince’s trust?”
“Do-jun.”
Park Won-gil called his son in a low voice, warning him not to question further.
“The world does not operate on right and wrong. It operates only on ‘benefit.’”
The words were cold, filled with long-held resignation and cynicism. He assumed his son did not yet understand the world. But Do-jun already knew; he simply refused to accept it.
“…Then if an action is not beneficial to you, Father, what should I do?”
“That is…”
“I must go against your will, correct?”
A brief silence fell. The air between them froze like thin ice. Park Won-gil no longer smiled, only stared sharply at his son, his eyes filled with betrayal.
“You defy me.”
“I have long known the time would come to do so.”
Do-jun’s answer was unflinching. In his eyes, there was no trace of respect for his father, only a determination to protect something. He said no more, turned, and left the living quarters. A cup fell behind him, but he did not look back, heading straight to Hyeminseo.
The atmosphere at Hyeminseo was markedly different from the Medical Office. Steam rose from boiling medicinal pots, patients groaned, and people waiting complained and shouted.
There, So-heon was visible.
“Nurse Yoon, this herb should not be handled like that.”
“Yes, I apologize.”
Her voice was calm, yet a sigh unconsciously crept in. Even though her fingers were freezing, she could not stop. Stopping would feel like her heart was breaking. The other nurses deliberately avoided eye contact, whispering behind her back instead.
“Hey, isn’t that Nurse Yoon who got kicked out of the Medical Office?”
“She caught the prince’s attention, that’s why.”
“Then that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Why was she kicked out?”
“I don’t know. Did she dare to gain favor with the higher-ups?”
The nurses giggled—a mixture of mockery and baseless jealousy. Words of belittlement and blame made her bow her head. She bit her lip, saying nothing.
There was unfairness, yes. But at this moment, no one would listen. She had to survive here too. She would learn again, from the beginning. There were patients here; all who breathed were the same, she told herself—but her heart did not follow her mind.
Then, a nurse deliberately bumped her shoulder. The medicinal pot wobbled, and hot water splashed onto her hand.
“Ah! Hot!”
A short scream escaped her lips, yet the other nurses ignored it. Some snickered; others passed by pretending not to notice.
Her hand quickly reddened, but she merely covered it with her sleeve and carefully adjusted the pot’s fire.
Do-jun watched from the edge of Hyeminseo’s yard, unable to step forward.
So, this is the world.
He muttered to himself. A world with neither justice nor compassion, only people watching the currents of power. Those who suffered the most were always people like her.
Seeing So-heon clutch her hand and bow her head, Do-jun exhaled heavily without realizing it. His breath turned white in the cold air, through which So-heon’s figure appeared faintly.
He stepped forward, then stopped. He knew that interfering would only bring greater harm. So he turned his back. The boiling sound of the medicinal pot behind him felt like it was scraping his chest.
Exiting Hyeminseo, he looked up at the sky. Sunlight pierced through the clouds, but the light felt cold.
