Chapter 31
“Did you see him grab her wrist? His Highness didn’t pull away.”
“That’s all you saw? You didn’t see our councilman’s face when Ms. Joan winked earlier? I thought I’d died and gone to the underworld.”
“Why? What was it like?”
“His eyes were bulging so fiercely, he looked like the Grim Reaper himself.”
The staff finished their chatter and exchanged looks.
“Are the two of them dating?”
“No way. Our councilman’s a sniper against the imperial family. Actually—hold on! I saw a rumor not long ago…”
“What rumor?”
“That the princess is about to get married. If that’s true, and our councilman and the princess are… like that…”
Hyanggi’s eyes gleamed as she smacked her palm with her fist.
“Then I think I know why he resigned!”
After a moment of silence, realization dawned on all their faces.
“Could it really be that the councilman is marrying the princess? No way. If that were true, it’d be like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Come on, calling it Romeo and Juliet when the partner’s a princess is too much. Let’s say Chunhyang and Lee Mong-ryong. No, that doesn’t fit either—the princess’s rank is higher.”
Silan, who had been listening quietly, only smiled.
All their examples were wrong. What Yeon and Seojun were drawing wasn’t a sweet romance.
It would be a revolutionary saga, something like Joan of Arc.
Outside the councilman’s office, the staff kept speculating about Yeon and Seojun’s relationship.
But the office was soundproof, so the noise outside never reached inside.
Once inside, Seojun released Yeon’s wrist.
“I don’t hold hands with just anyone.”
And then, without pause, he began scolding her.
Sitting on the sofa, Yeon looked up at him with an incredulous expression.
“Not with just anyone? I heard he’s from the Small Business Association. His name is Bo Joan. And it seemed like he knew you, Mr. Kang Seojun.”
“Did it look that way to you?”
“You’re not the type to show off strength to strangers, Mr. Kang. If he’d been a real petitioner, you would’ve been even more careful. So what’s your relationship with him?”
Seojun, who had been about to lecture her further, shut his mouth tight.
Yeon was sharper than he’d expected.
‘Should I call it good deduction skills?’
In any case, she was definitely smart.
Seojun brushed past her and leaned against the desk, staring at the envelope Bo Joan had left.
Bo Joan was indeed from the Small Business Association—but he was also Seojun’s informant.
He posed as a nuisance petitioner to make contact with Seojun, to avoid any suspicion.
So far, no one had questioned their relationship or looked into it.
The bias against “nuisance petitioners” had done its job.
But Yeon had seen through it.
It was too late now to insist Joan was just a random citizen. That would only stir up misunderstanding.
He had planned to introduce Joan to Yeon someday—but that time had suddenly moved up.
Seojun picked up the envelope and sat across from her.
“Let’s start with this.”
He set the envelope on the table.
“What is it?”
“Jangmi, Byun Yunji, Yoo Seoyeon, Son Eun-kyu.”
Yeon’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the papers.
The names were familiar. All of them were palace maids she had noticed before in the archives.
“This is an investigation into their activities after leaving the palace.”
“What does that have to do with Mr. Joan? Oh! Is he… a detective?”
“Something like that.”
Not officially, of course. His public cover was running an independent bookstore.
He opened it only twice a week—announced at the last minute on Instagram—earning the frustration of many would-be visitors.
But the bookstore was just a front. His main job was doing background investigations at Seojun’s request.
“So what did Joan find out?”
“Joan?”
Seojun’s eyes sharpened. He disliked how Yeon spoke his name so casually.
Since when were they close enough for her to call him that? She even tried to shake his hand earlier, didn’t she?
Remembering the lecture he hadn’t finished giving, Seojun tapped impatiently on the armrest of his chair and leaned forward.
“Your Highness, don’t trust people so easily. Don’t go around shaking hands, especially with strangers. Keep your distance.”
“What? That’s exactly what I used to hear when I was little.”
So the imperial education wasn’t a complete failure, at least in safety lessons.
While Seojun felt momentarily reassured, Yeon continued.
“I know it doesn’t hurt to be careful. But it’s not something I can follow. If I ignore a citizen’s outstretched hand, it’ll be headline news the next day.”
Headlines like: The Princess’s Rudeness, Imperial Family Disrespects Citizens, The Arrogance of the Korean Empire’s Royals.
They would flood every portal site.
“So I’ll handle it myself. When I’m alone, I’m cautious.”
The princess was a tempting target in many ways.
For terrorist groups, she was a way to make money. For the disgruntled, she was a bargaining chip.
And for some, Yeon herself was the prize—stalkers and obsessive fans, for example.
Even paparazzi sometimes created dangerous situations.
That was why Yeon had learned, from childhood, to always scan her surroundings when meeting people.
Was she safe from possible threats? Could she respond if something happened?
Years of repeating this process had made it instinct.
“My bodyguards are always nearby too.”
“Not here.”
“So what? I have you, Mr. Kang.”
Yeon smiled brightly.
Fresh.
That word suited her smile perfectly.
Looking at her, Seojun felt a gentle breeze stir in his chest—like a spring wind tickling his heart.
Her pale green dress, reminiscent of spring, suited her beautifully.
‘She looks truly lovely today.’
The thought squeezed his heart.
“Mr. Kang Seojun?”
Their eyes met.
Her shining gaze, half hidden by her eyelids, was like a solar eclipse—breathtaking, mysterious.
“I said, I acted comfortably because I trust you.”
If anyone else had said that, he would’ve shuddered.
But hearing it from her made his shoulders lift, as though he really were someone special.
She trusted him, relied on him. He had no words.
There were many ways to silence him, it seemed.
“Anything strange?”
Yeon smoothly shifted her gaze to the documents.
Seojun sighed and pointed at them.
“All four became subjects of the National Tax Service’s audits for high-asset individuals after leaving the palace.”
“So they became rich? After retiring?”
“Exactly. One won the lottery, another inherited from a distant relative. The sources differ, but the pattern is the same. Once wealthy, they cut off contact and disappeared. Some even left the country. What do you think?”
“I’d rather hear your opinion, Mr. Kang.”
Having worked as a journalist, Yeon had seen countless conspiracies. She worried her immediate thought might be too far-fetched.
“Their lives follow the same pattern. Not long after retiring, they came into huge sums of money. That doesn’t happen easily, unless it’s payment for something.”
Seojun spoke without hesitation.
“So you’re convinced they were compensated. By whom?”
“I traced the funds. They were clean. Only a handful of experts in Korea could launder money this well. And those experts don’t work with just anyone.”
Seojun stared at her intently.
Seeing her reflection in his dark eyes, Yeon felt as though she were sinking into a vast, inescapable swamp.
“This is where I should ask, right?”
“Aren’t you curious?”
“You think it was the imperial family, don’t you?”
Seojun stroked his chin silently.
Yeon sighed and added,
“I think so too.”
His eyes flickered faintly.
He hadn’t expected her to agree so easily to the dangerous idea that the imperial family had secretly paid the palace maids.
Seojun studied her closely.
She seemed attached to the royal family, given her determination to become emperor one day. Yet she accepted this perilous theory with a blank expression.
What was her true heart?
Avoiding his gaze, Yeon looked back at the files.
Her eyes met the photograph of Jangmi.
A youthful, round, kind-looking face. As she stared, a hazy memory grew clear.
“I saw her once in the Crown Prince’s Palace.”
She lifted Jangmi’s photo.
Seojun didn’t look surprised.
“All four had records of being assigned to the Crown Prince’s Palace. But none of them stayed long. Three months at the shortest, six at the longest.”
“Does that line up with the times I visited the Royal Infirmary?”
Yeon’s eyes sharpened.
Her question cut straight to the heart of the matter.
