TKEP 12

Chapter 12

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At the time, Beom quietly turned away.

It didn’t suit the dignity of an emperor to make an issue out of eavesdropping on a phone call, and if he were to summon Seo-jun and demand, “What was that about?” it could easily blow up into something bigger.

Besides, there was something he could guess might interest the police.

Crown Prince Lee Byeong.

Back then and even now, anything concerning the prince’s illness was strictly contained, never allowed to leak outside—but one could never be too sure.

So he had refrained from pressing the matter at the time.

During the breakfast meeting, Beom had already concluded that Seo-jun was someone who could neither be coaxed nor tamed.

But that didn’t mean he could simply let the man run wild.

I should give the police commissioner a call.

Even if he had to speak in roundabout terms, hinting that someone within the police had dared point a blade at the imperial family, Commissioner Moon would know to rein in his subordinates.

And in time, that was exactly what happened.

Seo-jun took off his police uniform.

When Beom later heard the news that he had become a politician, he erased the incident from his memory.

He thought of politicians as nothing more than worn-out opportunists—
the kind who would hand over their very liver and gallbladder for money and power.

And Seo-jun was the son of Kang Bae-shim, a man who carried a hundred snakes in his belly.

That such a man as Kang Seo-jun would become a politician—
it was predictable.

If one sought high office in politics, one could not afford to make an enemy of the imperial family.

Sooner or later, Seo-jun too would smile politely in front of Beom, just like his father had.

Even if he hid a blade inside, the day he would dare to draw it would be far off.

So thinking, Beom had erased him from his mind.

But…

I was wrong. He’d been planning all along to find a way into the imperial family.

That Yeon’s romantic partner should turn out to be Seo-jun left a bitter taste in Beom’s mouth.

Was it really just coincidence that, at a time when Yeon harbored ambitions for the throne, she would become Seo-jun’s lover and move toward marriage?

As far as Beom knew, there had been nothing special between Seo-jun and Yeon.

At most, they might have crossed paths a few times when the prime minister attended official imperial functions with his family.

So when had Yeon first seen Kang Seo-jun, and what about him had made her choose him as a partner?

The possibility that their marriage might simply be the result of a sweet, childish love never even crossed his mind.

There must be a reason.

It wasn’t because she was his daughter—Yeon was a clever girl.

She wasn’t the type to marry without love, but neither was she the type to marry for love alone.

Would Kang Seo-jun’s becoming a member of the imperial family be, in the long run, an asset or a liability?

The question kept surfacing and sinking again.

“Your Majesty.”

As Beom’s silent face grew darker and darker, Court Eunuch Jo could not hold his tongue.

Beom pulled himself from his recollections.

“Find out how former Prime Minister Kang Bae-shim has been lately.”

When you couldn’t read a man’s intentions, it was best to first investigate his surroundings.

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Yeon sat on a park bench and checked the time.

There was still quite a while until her appointment.

As she idly took out her phone, a tiny child came running up.

“It’s the princess!”

Yellow hat, yellow uniform.

“Here comes a little chick.”

Yeon beamed at him, and the boy’s face lit up in turn, rosy cheeks puffed with a wide smile.

“Princess, what are you doing here?”

Yeon was not a princess but an imperial princess, yet she didn’t bother correcting him and simply played along.

“What about you? What are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk!”

He turned and pointed to the hill behind him, where a string of children in yellow uniforms were making their way down.

The sight brought to mind the lyrics of a children’s song about “a parade of little chicks,” and Yeon’s lips softened into a smile.

“Eun-woo-ya!”

And there came a woman, running breathlessly at the head of the line.

Her fluttering apron marked her clearly as a preschool teacher.

“Your name’s Eun-woo?”

“Wow, princess, you’re a genius! How’d you know my name?”

Because your teacher is calling you frantically, dear.

Yeon gave a small laugh and reached to ruffle his hair.

But before she could, the boy darted off, shouting:

“Teacher! Princess! It’s the princess!”

The teacher, only now spotting Yeon, widened her eyes, gaped, and began flustering about, waving her hands.

She bowed deeply, then stopped a little way off, urgently calling to the boy.

“Eun-woo! Come here, quickly!”

“Yes, teacher!”

Eun-woo started to trot toward her on his short legs.

Just as Yeon thought, He’s going to trip at that pace, the boy caught his foot on a stone, and his body lifted into the air—just like in a cartoon.

“No!”

Yeon leapt forward to catch him—

But it wasn’t Yeon who saved him. It was Seo-jun.

In one motion, he caught the boy by the scruff, then turned his body to wrap an arm around Yeon’s waist.

It was like a scene out of a movie—one arm holding the child, the other steadying the woman who had rushed in after him.

He let out a long sigh.

“Two kids at once.”

Yeon bristled, ready to snap back, but the teacher hurried over, and she smoothed her expression.

Seo-jun set both Yeon and the boy down.

The child dashed to clutch his teacher’s leg.

“Teacher, it’s the princess!”

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

Despite having nearly split his head open, the boy’s smile was undimmed.

Yeon matched it with her own.

“Think nothing of it. Out for a walk, are you? It’s the perfect time for it.”

“Yes, thank you for your help. Eun-woo, let’s go.”

The teacher tugged at the boy, who resisted a moment before bowing to Yeon.

“See you next time!”

“Let’s.”

Yeon waved lightly.

After bidding goodbye to them, she turned—

And saw Seo-jun, a short distance away, watching her.

As she approached, he glanced around.

The park was quiet, no suspicious figures in sight—no paparazzi, no tails.

“Can’t you go ten minutes without creating an incident?” he said.

“Are you calling me trouble?”

“‘Troublemaker’ suits you better.”

Yeon shot him a glare, but it bounced right off.

Ugh, infuriating.

The heat in her chest made her thirsty.

Then Seo-jun offered, “Iced coffee?”

“Sure.”

They began walking side by side.

What she had said to the teacher about it being a perfect time for a walk wasn’t just polite talk.

The park, lush with summer greenery still jeweled with morning dew, was indeed perfect for strolling.

Yeon breathed in the fresh morning air. After so long, the scent of nature soothed her frayed nerves.

And then it hit her—ever since deciding to come to Korea, she’d been on edge the whole time.

The moment she realized it, her headache returned.

After they had walked in silence for some time, Seo-jun glanced at her and said,

“Want me to give you a piggyback if you’re tired?”

“We’ve only been walking ten minutes. I’m fine.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“Are you a mind reader?”

“No. But I’m thinking of learning—it seems necessary to survive in the imperial family.”

Her exasperated laugh escaped before she could stop it.

“So why did you want to meet in the park?”

“Don’t you feel stifled?”

Her eyes narrowed.

He claimed he couldn’t read minds, yet he knew she was feeling suffocated by life in Korea.

“Are you bugging my phone? No, even if you were, you wouldn’t know that—I never said it.”

“Anyone who knows a little about the imperial family could guess. And no, I’m the one being bugged.”

He reached into his jacket and produced a tiny listening device.

Her eyes widened.

“What’s that?”

“Found it in my office two days ago.”

“Are you involved in a crime?”

Her alarm was genuine.

“Or did you cross a criminal organization?”

Given his past as a police officer, it wasn’t impossible. Criminal groups targeting a former investigator was a movie cliché.

“This won’t do. I’m requesting personal protection from the imperial guard.”

But she was wrong on both the cause and the solution.

“It’s an imperial-issue bug.”

“…What?”

“The imperial family is bugging me, Your Highness.”

Yeon pressed her lips together.

A moment later, she’d found the culprit.

“It’s His Majesty. I told him I was going to marry you, and he disapproved. He must have planted it to look into you.”

“I see.”

His casual acceptance caught her off guard.

“Aren’t you going to be surprised or angry? One or the other?”

“In the imperial family, nothing is surprising, and nothing a royal does is out of character. That’s my policy.”

His tone carried a trace of mockery.

It was the sort of statement she could have him charged with lèse-majesté for, but she nodded instead.

“You’re not wrong. I’ll apologize on their behalf, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Ah—so that’s why you suggested meeting in the park. No chance of being bugged here.”

“Exactly. A wide-open place is best when you need to keep something private.”

“So we’ll have to keep dating outdoors? I hate the heat.”

“Then we’ll have to fix that.”

“How?”

He held out his hand.

“A friend who overcame family opposition to marriage gave me two tips. Either create a situation they absolutely can’t oppose, or persuade them with sincerity.”

“Sounds like theory. Be specific.”

“Lend me your ear for a moment.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and tilted her head.

He leaned in close and murmured,

“You know.”

His voice was low and intimate.

The brush of his breath on her ear made her shoulders twitch.

His fingers settled on her shoulders, one by one, like piano keys.

“Trouble a couple can get into.”

Her eyes widened, the fine hairs on her neck standing on end.

“You mean… a shotgun wedding?”

She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice cracked at the end.

Times might have changed, but for someone like Yeon, who had never even had her first experience, it was still unfamiliar territory.

Seo-jun caught the sight of her flushed ear and chuckled softly.

He stepped back.

“Your imagination’s that limited? You need to watch more dramas.”

Even after they separated, she still felt his breath clinging to her ear. She rubbed it and asked,

“Then what’s the other way?”

“Eloping.”

“I could have guessed that.”

“Why do you think the classics are classics? They work no matter how much time passes.”

They kept talking after that.

For the first time in a while, Yeon focused only on the conversation, setting aside all the complicated thoughts.

He hadn’t even been trying especially hard to be funny, yet she found herself laughing now and then, even tapping his arm.

They said looks were the funniest thing of all—apparently, that was true.

By the time her cheeks ached from laughing, they had arrived at a quiet brewing café.

A gentle coffee aroma greeted them as soon as the door opened, and soft piano music suited the small space perfectly.

Seo-jun led her to a sunny window seat.

The air-conditioning was just enough to make the golden sunlight at the window comfortably warm.

Noticing the completely empty interior, she blurted out,

 

“Did you rent the place?”