TKEP 03

TKEP

Posted by NovelVibes (Admin), Released on August 11, 2025

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Chapter 3

“You come back all of a sudden and turn the Imperial Family upside down, I see.”

The first person Yeon ran into as soon as she stepped out of Jibokjae was her half-brother and Crown Prince of the Korean Empire, Yi Byeong.

Byeong, displeased that Yeon had shown up in Korea without so much as a notice, approached with a deep frown between his brows.

“Her Majesty the Grand Empress Dowager is furious. Do you ever think about the ripple effects that every expression and gesture of yours could cause? Or have you forgotten you’re a Princess after living abroad?”

Byeong, four years older than Yeon and now thirty, really ought to have matured by now—but he still picked petty fights with her the way he had as a boy.

“I hope you’ve been well, Your Highness.”

Yeon let his words flow in one ear and out the other, doing what etiquette demanded of her—offering a polite greeting.

The furrow between his brows deepened.

“If you’ve nothing further to say, I’ll be returning to Changdeokgung now. As you know, I’ve many matters to attend to after an urgent return home. And since you must also be busy with state affairs, shall we save our catching-up for another time?”

It was a masterful way of telling the Crown Prince to buzz off.

She turned on her heel before he’d even given leave to go.

Byeong’s temper flared.

How dare a mere princess leave the august Crown Prince’s presence without his permission!

She’s snubbing me. Because I’m the son of the Imperial Consort. Because she came from the Empress’s womb.

The fact that he was the child of a concubine—not the Emperor’s lawful wife—was Byeong’s greatest complex. Worse, his mother had a reputation for being vicious. Even after her death, when he was formally adopted by the Empress and made Crown Prince, he never escaped that shadow.

“I’m not finished speaking.”

Yeon sighed and stopped.

The sound of measured footsteps closing in behind her sent a chill crawling up her spine. Anyone who knew the Crown Prince’s true face would likely have reacted the same way.

She drew in a deep breath, let it out, and donned a mask of composure before slowly turning to him.

“What is it you wish to say, Your Highness?”

“Since you’re here, let’s settle this while you’ve already stirred the country. Choose one of these.”

He suddenly thrust a stack of documents at her.

“…Pardon?”

Yeon tilted her head.

“It’s about time you found a match. No—long overdue, in fact. Don’t you agree?”

Even in the 21st century, the Imperial Family clung to 19th-century traditions. Once a royal turned fifteen, arrangements for marriage began.

Marriage here didn’t mean immediate consummation—they would first have an engagement and a period of living in the same building. When both parties turned twenty, they would formally consummate the union.

Deciding one’s life partner at fifteen according to the elders’ will—does that make any sense?

To Yeon, the Imperial Family’s outdated, inefficient customs and their pretense of “preserving tradition” were laughable.

A rigged performance.

So she had refused marriage again and again.

The elders were in an uproar, but on this matter, Byeong had stayed quiet—because he didn’t want her to gain a powerful ally through marriage.

And just imagining her acting like an adult because she was married made him nauseous.

They had clashed over everything since childhood, after all.

But now, with public opinion ignited, he couldn’t feign ignorance.

And it wouldn’t hurt to look like a caring older brother in the process.

“Are you worried about my marriage, Your Highness?”

“As your brother, of course I am. Choose your consort from this list.”

One glance at the papers and Yeon let out a short laugh.

It was a list of her potential suitors.

Byeong stared at her for a long moment, then clicked his tongue and turned away.

Yeon waited until he was out of sight before looking back down at the papers.

Why was he so interested in her marriage now?

The answer was obvious.

A consort was not just a husband—they were a source of power.

So you want to seize that power for yourself? That’s horrifying.

She scowled at the photographs of the candidates.

This is too much! I wouldn’t marry any of these men if my life depended on it. If I absolutely had to marry someone…

Her eyes suddenly lit up.

“Yes, that would be perfect. My own ally.”

Before going to war, best secure a reliable comrade-in-arms.

“Since everyone’s so interested in my marriage, I suppose I should return the favor. Fine—let’s do it.”

If she was going to marry, she’d choose someone who would pave the way for her future.

Yeon’s lips curved upward.

—Speculation is rampant over what Her Highness’s smile meant. Profiler Kwon Sam-yong has called it “meaningful” and suggested her return may be related to a marriage alliance. This has reignited public interest in her past rumored romances.

A cool, sophisticated air hung over the office.

Crisp white walls, a wall-length bookshelf in deep wood tones, a perfectly neat desk, precisely aligned files, and gray-toned accessories—everything radiated meticulous order.

At the center of it all, a man in a sharp suit leaned lightly against the desk, eyes fixed on his phone.

From the device came a stream of chatter quite out of place in that orderly space.

—She was once rumored to be involved with pro athlete Na Dae. It was just a misunderstanding, but it started when he went on record saying the Princess was his ideal type. In reality…

A faint crease appeared between the man’s smooth brows.

He was fully absorbed in the announcer’s words.

“Oh? You’re watching that program too, Assemblyman?”

The man looked up.

His aide, Han Yong-un, leaned forward to peek at the phone screen.

“You watch this show too?”

“Is there anyone in the country who doesn’t? It’s the fastest source for Imperial Family news—official, unofficial, gossip, you name it.”

Yong-un set down an armful of files on one side of the desk and stepped closer.

By then, the man had already switched off the screen.

Yong-un suddenly asked, with a serious look,

“Sir, is there some issue with the Princess’s return? What information should I prepare?”

The man paused mid-gesture as he was hanging his jacket on a stand.

He slowly turned his head toward Yong-un.

“What information?”

“For the unofficial audit of the Imperial Family. Isn’t that why you were watching? I can’t think of any other reason you’d bother with that show.”

“It’s not that.”

He answered flatly and sat down.

“Oh, come on. You’re the Imperial Family’s number-one critic. We’re on the same team—you can tell me. Just don’t spring it on us during a hearing or audit and give us a heart attack. Did something happen? Did the Princess cause trouble? She doesn’t seem like the type, though…”

It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, given this man’s track record.

First-term Assemblyman Kang Seo-jun had made a name for himself in his first national audit by exposing the police chief for covering up a royal relative’s drunk-driving incident.

He’d also uncovered corruption in a company that supplied official Imperial souvenirs.

Nor did he hesitate to go after the chaebols: he’d summoned the head of one of the empire’s most powerful conglomerates and extracted an admission of wrongdoing in the succession process—and a promise to set it right.

All this had earned him the nickname “the sniper of the privileged” and the fervent support of the public.

It was also why he was regarded as the rising star of Korean imperial politics.

“It’s not that. As a citizen, I like the Imperial Family too. Your suspicion wounds me.”

Seo-jun gave a genial smile as he sat back.

For a moment, Yong-un was at a loss for words—and then remembered another of Seo-jun’s nicknames: “Keongchul-geum”—short for ban from the racetrack—because he was so handsome he made people lose their words like losing their bets.

There was also “Rain-bringer,” “Heart-stopper”… countless gushing nicknames celebrating his looks.

A handsome young lawmaker who also got results—what was there not to like? Unless, of course, you were a royal or a chaebol.

“Anyway, the Princess is truly beautiful. She practically shines. Not a wrinkle or flaw on her. I bet she’s never cried from heartbreak. What would she have to be sad about?”

Yong-un pulled out his phone and looked her up.

A photo came up instantly, and he muttered, “She’s gorgeous, seriously,” before glancing at Seo-jun.

“You think the same, right?”

Seo-jun shrugged and looked at the photo.

But he couldn’t agree so easily.

A faint, bittersweet smile crossed his face.

He’d seen a side of her the media never showed.

He had seen those fine features clouded with sorrow.

In those moments, there hadn’t been a trace of the confident, radiant smile she wore now—only someone small and fragile.

He knew the sorrow lodged in her heart.

The way she’d cried until the skin around her eyes was raw.

Because the brighter a person shone, the deeper and darker their shadows.