TKEP 11

Chapter 11

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Yeon quickly composed her startled expression and said,

“Seo-jun is a good person. If you’re against it because of his reputation as a royal sniper, you don’t have to worry. He’s going to be family—why would he ever target the Imperial House?”

Yeon was trying her best to gauge Beom’s intent from a royal’s point of view.

“I just remembered I have an urgent meeting. Empress, will you kindly forgive me for leaving first?”

Ignoring Yeon’s words, Beom turned to Na-yeong for understanding.

An urgent meeting? They both knew perfectly well that even tea time was something he set aside as a scheduled appointment…

Though both Yeon and the Empress looked at him in disbelief, they couldn’t stop the Emperor from leaving.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

As Empress, Na-yeong answered demurely, for it was her duty to assist the Emperor both materially and emotionally.

Then she personally saw him out before returning.

“Mom! You know Dad’s just making an excuse to leave, so why did you let him go?”

As soon as Yeon saw her, she relaxed, stretched her legs out on the seat, and raised her voice—only to pull her legs back in when Na-yeong appeared.

“Princess, mind your words.”

Na-yeong adjusted her hanbok skirt as she spoke. Though her tone was chiding, her face was all smiles.

“Lady Yoon, you may leave us.”

For a bit of private time with her daughter, Na-yeong dismissed the court lady.

The quick-witted Lady Yoon even swept away the chamberlain standing in the corridor, clearing the entire area outside the hall.

Na-yeong finally let out a comfortable sigh. Then she came over and poked Yeon in the side.

As a mother, she could only behave so casually once all eyes and ears—including the chamberlain’s—were gone.

“What’s going on? Marriage, all of a sudden? And to the Prime Minister’s family, no less?”

It was as if Na-yeong had been waiting for this exact moment.

She asked three questions, but they were really one—and not so much a question as an order:

Tell me everything about your relationship with Kang Seo-jun, from start to finish, without leaving a single detail out.

Her face bloomed like spring flowers as she waited for the answer—an expression of rare, lively warmth.

‘I want to tell her everything.’

It hurt Yeon to have to lie to her mother, who was looking at her with sparkling eyes full of curiosity about her love life.

But to deceive the enemy, one must first deceive the closest ally.

‘I’m sorry, Mom…’

She offered a silent apology as a sort of self-forgiveness before she spoke.

“I’ve liked him since I was young.”

“Young? When did you ever meet the Prime Minister’s son?”

“More importantly, Mom—Seo-jun’s father isn’t Prime Minister anymore.”

Two years ago, when Kang Seo-jun entered politics, his father, Kang Bae-shim, retired.

At the time, there had been rampant speculation about why such an active politician had stepped down so suddenly.

Some said it was because his son had joined not just a different party, but the opposing Labor Party, which cost Kang favor within his own party. Others claimed it was a noble sacrifice for his son’s future.

Yeon had been curious too.

It didn’t seem like Kang Bae-shim—the man who had eliminated countless rivals to rise to the position of Prime Minister—would so easily give up a glittering career.

‘I’ll have to ask Seo-jun about it later.’

“Yeon-hwa, you’ve only been back in Korea for a short while. When and how did you meet him, let alone start dating? You’re going to make me faint from waiting for the answer.”

Na-yeong pressed her daughter.

When Yeon turned her head, her eyes met her mother’s bright, eager gaze—like that of a young girl anticipating a romantic love story.

And once again, Yeon realized that Na-yeong was a person who didn’t belong in a place like the palace, where people constantly watched for the chance to strike.

Which meant that Yeon had to be the one strong enough to protect her mother.

“I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, please focus on persuading His Majesty.”

Still, Na-yeong was a mother. She could be strong, if only a little, for her daughter’s sake.

And for Yeon—who had no power or allies at all—that small strength was precious.

“All right. Don’t worry. If you and the Prime Minister’s son truly love each other, I’ll always be on your side.”

“So, when did we first meet… It was at my elementary school entrance party.”

This wasn’t a lie.

She didn’t know if Seo-jun remembered, but Yeon’s first memory of him was at her own celebration for entering elementary school, when she was eight years old.

Her gaze softened at the thought.

That day, Yeon had been in low spirits.

It was her party, but there wasn’t a single child her age—only a hall full of adults.

And she’d had to follow the set order of events, meaning she couldn’t eat any of the delicious food right in front of her.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Yeon took advantage of a moment when no one was watching and slipped away.

Naturally, the palace attendants went into an uproar.

They spread out in all directions, quietly searching for her.

They were skilled, so they found her hiding place in no time.

Yeon had just started to unwrap a chocolate she’d stuffed into her pocket when she realized she was about to be caught.

‘It’s too unfair to be dragged back without eating anything.’

Her eyes were starting to water when—

“The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”

A boy’s voice came from just beyond the sliding paper door, sending the attendants away.

Then he sat down on the porch of the building where Yeon was hiding with a soft sigh.

“Please rest at ease.”

His voice was boyish, but his tone was like that of an adult.

Yeon became curious about him.

Shoving the chocolate into her mouth, she poked a hole in the paper door.

If the head court ladies had seen, they would have been horrified—but they weren’t here, and she was dying of curiosity.

She peered through the hole where light was seeping in.

At that exact moment, the boy turned his head, and his face came clearly into view.

“Wow…”

Yeon had met many foreign princes since she was little, but she’d never once sincerely called any of them “prince.”

But right now…

“He’s a prince.”

The boy, poised between childhood and adolescence, was the most handsome person she had ever seen.

His small face with fair skin was set with large, well-defined features.

The highlight, though, was his eyes—black as obsidian, perfectly clear, and captivating.

Yeon wanted to know his name. She was just about to open the door to ask when someone called to him from afar.

“What are you doing there, Seo-jun?”

So his name was Seo-jun.

Yeon quietly rolled the name on her tongue. She wished she could have asked him directly.

By the time she stepped out onto the porch, her disappointment had turned bittersweet.

In the spot where Seo-jun had been, several individually wrapped chocolates lay neatly arranged.

Everything felt like a gift—Seo-jun’s appearance, the chocolates.

‘Did he know I was hungry and leave them for me?’

Looking back, it didn’t seem like that meeting had been entirely by chance.

“At the entrance party, what?”

Na-yeong stroked her daughter’s hand, bringing Yeon back from her memories.

“That’s when I first saw him.”

“That’s it? I thought there’d be some great story.”

“It is a great story—it means we go way back. So please help me, Mom.”

“Help with what?”

“I want to get married quickly.”

Na-yeong raised an eyebrow.

From her tone, it sounded like Yeon wanted to rush the wedding.

Marriage wasn’t something to be done hastily…

A sudden uneasy thought crossed Na-yeong’s mind.

‘Could she have another reason for wanting to get married?’

She knew her daughter’s childhood dream—dangerous enough that she’d tried to dissuade her again and again, but Yeon had never given it up.

It was the same dream that had made Na-yeong both regret and feel relieved when Yeon said she was going abroad.

Her face darkened.

“Yeon-hwa.”

“Mom, I know what you’re worrying about, but don’t. I really want to get married, that’s all. Things are going to get a little hectic, so just go along with it, okay? You know you’ll have a lot to do for your daughter’s wedding.”

Yeon hugged her mother tightly around the waist, resting her head on her skirt.

Na-yeong stroked her daughter’s back as she acted cute, unable to completely hide her troubled expression.

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Back at Jibokjae, Beom shut himself in and forbade anyone from entering, then sat down at his desk.

The faint smile that had been lingering on his lips vanished, replaced by a sharp, irritable expression.

“What has happened, Your Majesty?”

It was Chamberlain Jo, who had known Beom since childhood. He had been adopted by a eunuch and raised as one, becoming the last eunuch of the Korean Empire.

His pride in his position was immense, and his loyalty to the Imperial House unmatched.

He was also the only person Beom could confide in.

“Yeon says she’s getting married.”

“To the Princess, Your Highness? Is that not joyous news for the Imperial House?”

Chamberlain Jo was genuinely pleased.

He knew Beom intended to pass the throne to Yeon, so her marriage was welcome.

Marriage was one of the best tools for expanding influence, and he trusted that the intelligent Princess would choose well.

“Who is it, the man she’s set her heart on?”

Beom let out several deep sighs before answering.

Only then did Jo realize the Emperor was displeased with this match.

‘So that’s why he was silent the whole way from the Gyotaejeon to Jibokjae—it’s the groom he’s unhappy about.’

Beom rarely expressed personal likes or dislikes about people. He judged them politically—whether they served national interest or not, whether they were friend or foe to the Imperial House.

If he was openly showing disapproval, it meant the man—or his family—had either betrayed the country or caused serious harm to it.

Yet even as he trusted Beom’s judgment, a small doubt crept into Jo’s mind.

‘Would the Princess really bring home someone that worthless?’

He couldn’t help but ask again.

“Who is it, Your Majesty, that troubles you so?”

“Kang Bae-shim’s son, Kang Seo-jun.”

Jo blinked rapidly.

“Kang Seo-jun… You mean Congressman Kang Jeong-gu?”

Beom nodded.

So Kang Seo-jun was famous enough now that Jo identified him by his own political position before mentioning his father.

‘Come to think of it, people now call Kang Bae-shim “Kang Seo-jun’s father” rather than the other way around.’

That had been something Kang Bae-shim himself had mentioned to Beom a few months ago at an informal gathering.

He’d seemed to scold his son for choosing a different party, yet he couldn’t quite hide his pride.

They said people boast about their parents when young, their lovers when grown, and their children when old—and Kang Bae-shim was living proof.

And that was part of why Beom disliked him.

Born as the Prime Minister’s son, raised to be Prime Minister, and becoming Prime Minister himself—yet pretending to be an ordinary man.

“Kang Seo-jun seems like a good match, doesn’t he? Former Prime Minister Kang Bae-shim has a fine reputation, and he’s built an impressive network. Wouldn’t that be a great help to the Princess? Is there something in particular that concerns you?”

“On paper, he’s excellent.”

“Then please tell me your concerns, Your Majesty. I’ll investigate.”

But Beom shook his head.

His discomfort with Kang Seo-jun came from personal experience.

‘Was it five years ago?’

His eyes sharpened.

Back then, the Emperor often held breakfast meetings with various figures.

The day Kang Seo-jun became memorable to him was one such morning.

At the time, Seo-jun had been recommended as a promising junior officer by Moon Si-jung, the then-police chief.

It was obvious Moon was grooming him as a successor.

Seo-jun had been younger, sharper, and more brilliant then, unafraid to voice his opinions before high-ranking officials—and even to contradict the Emperor himself at times.

It had been impressive, but nothing that would have left such a lasting mark—if not for what happened after breakfast, due to one of Beom’s whims.

“Your Majesty, that way leads to the smoking area. Even if you take the long way around, you’ll still catch the smell. Please go this way instead.”

“Today I feel like walking through the rear garden. I want some quiet, so stay ten paces behind.”

Ignoring Jo’s suggestion, Beom headed toward the garden—only to overhear a low voice.

It was Kang Seo-jun.

“I didn’t notice anything unusual, but we should investigate thoroughly.”

White smoke curling in the air, a hushed tone, a secretive phone call—conditions that made anyone pause to listen.

“I know. Searching would be faster, but do you think it’s easy to get a warrant to search the Imperial House? Still, I won’t give up. The Imperial Family’s filthy secrets… I’ll uncover them myself, no matter what.”

The conviction in his voice seeped into the air and rippled against Beom’s ankles where he stood, hidden in the blind spot.

 

That day, Beom had felt it clearly—Kang Seo-jun’s deep, unshakable hostility toward the Imperial House.