TKEP 35

Chapter 35

After that, Empress Dowager Oh’s attitude noticeably softened.

Whatever the circumstances, Yeon was still the Empress Dowager’s bloodline, her granddaughter.

And since Seojun looked like a man who could make that granddaughter shine, she had no reason to oppose the union blindly.

In fact, the Empress Dowager even liked Seojun’s face.

Ever since her youth, she had adored a famous Hong Kong actor—an actor whom Seojun was often said to resemble.

That was why Seojun always paid extra attention to his appearance whenever he went to meet the Empress Dowager.

“Does Her Highness even know? That I’m selling my looks just for a chance at marriage?”

For him, this was desperate.

But what about Yeon?

Seojun turned his gaze to the window.

At some point, rain had begun to fall, drumming violently against the glass.

The sky was dark, as if draped in a black shroud, and every time it brightened with flashes of lightning, thunder soon followed, shaking the world.

It was the kind of weather that suited the phrase: rain and thunder pounding down on the earth.

Each flash outside dredged up a memory, one by one.

The rumble of thunder dragged out a fragile voice from deep inside.

“Is… is this Kang Seojun oppa’s phone? Jiyoung unnie… unnie disappeared. Please, please find her. Hic, please find… unnie…”

That call had come twelve years ago, to Jiyoung’s phone.

On that day too, like today, rain had poured as if the sky itself were torn open.
The caller was Yeon.

At the time, fourteen-year-old Yeon had been terrified, clearly frightened of something.

It was impossible to believe it was just a prank call. A princess would have no reason to prank call from Jiyoung’s phone.

That day, Seojun had dropped his studies and rushed straight to Gyeongbokgung Palace.

And there, somehow, he found Yeon alone.

She clung to him, sobbing in despair.

“Oppa, unnie… Jiyoung unnie disappeared… hic… help me… please, help me.”

After calming Yeon and sending her somewhere safe, Seojun had gone straight to his father.

“Jiyoung noona is missing. We need to file a missing person report.”

Jiyoung was Seojun’s father Kang Baesim’s illegitimate daughter.

He had called her a mistake—something he had chosen to ignore.
Because of that, Jiyoung’s life had been wretched and pitiful.

“You… you’ve been in contact with Jiyoung? I told you not to associate with a girl like that!”

Respected on the outside, Kang Baesim was in truth despicable, petty, and cold.

“I’ve told you countless times—she’s clinging to you just to use you!”

“Noona never used me. If anything, she only ever gave.”

Jiyoung had first sought Seojun out when he was in his third year of middle school.

She had shown up in tattered clothes in the middle of winter, after waiting for Baesim in vain and heading home disappointed.

Startled at the unexpected encounter, she had flinched when she saw Seojun.

Raised to be kind to everyone, Seojun had judged her pitiful from her appearance alone and opened his wallet.

“You’re better than your father.”

That single line began a bond that endured.

But not once did Jiyoung accept his help.
Instead, she would buy him pens and notebooks with money earned from all-night convenience store shifts.

Through Jiyoung, Seojun experienced what family warmth felt like.

They shared only half a bloodline, but they were, without question, family.

When Jiyoung’s mother passed away, Seojun had secretly stood in mourning at her funeral—that was how deep their bond ran.

Yet just one year after Jiyoung entered the palace on a special recruitment, she disappeared.

Abandoning hope of help from his father, Seojun had immediately filed a missing person report.
But the police only pretended to search.

Not long after, word came that she was dead—that she had committed suicide.

Naturally, Seojun didn’t believe it.

She had promised to invite him to the palace once his college entrance exams were over.

Jiyoung was someone who valued promises as much as life itself. Someone who had dreams, goals, and so much she still wanted to do—she would never throw her life away so easily.

Her disappearance, and the circumstances leading to her supposed death, were suspicious.

Before she vanished, her contact with him had grown sparse, and the things she said when they did speak were troubling.

“The times have changed, but isn’t it funny that the royal family still exists? Seojun, if I’m reborn, I want to be a police officer. But… can police arrest royalty if they commit crimes?”

Why had she said something like that?

When she first entered the palace, she had said working for the Imperial Family was her greatest achievement.

The memories rushed in all at once, filling him to the brim, suffocating him.

His chest tightened abruptly.

Almost unconsciously, Seojun reached to loosen his tie—only to pause.

His neck was bare. He had changed into a light T-shirt after washing earlier.

Tonight, peaceful sleep was out of the question.

Whenever he remembered the day Jiyoung disappeared, and everything that followed, insomnia plagued him for days.

The memories of her disappearance and death dragged him straight down into darkness.

Seojun rubbed his face with his dry hands.

A sudden flash of lightning.

The thunder will roar again.

Thinking bitterly of how sick he was of it, he closed his eyes for a long moment.

Then came a knock. He already knew who it was.

“Yes.”

“Seojun-ah.”

Carefully stepping inside was his mother, Park Hyojin.

“Come in.”

Seojun stepped aside from the door, and Hyojin glanced at him nervously.

“I… am I disturbing your rest?”

Her tone was cautious, unusually so for a mother.

But it was understandable. Despite public appearances, Seojun and Hyojin’s relationship was distant.

Hyojin loved her son dearly, but she was weak.

She hadn’t protected him from Kang Baesim.
She had remained silent, even knowing about Baesim’s illegitimate child.

Even when Baesim’s former lover died miserably, she had sided with her husband.

Since the day Seojun was born, countless difficult events had unfolded, but Hyojin had consistently chosen to ignore them.

Seojun loved her, but he could never understand her choices, and gradually grew apart from her.

“If you have something to say, please sit and speak comfortably.”

Seojun pulled out a chair for her.

“I won’t take much of your time.”

Her uneasy tone made his eye twitch faintly.

He disliked the way she spoke.

Her manner always seemed to instill an odd sense of guilt in others.

Her defensive posture, condescending gaze, and gentle smile—all defense mechanisms to preserve her lofty pride.

In the past, he would have reassured her, said she wasn’t taking up his time. But tonight, he wasn’t in the best state himself.

He nodded lightly and sat on the edge of his bed.

The room felt vast—whether because of its actual size or the sparse furniture—but even though they weren’t that far apart, the distance between them felt infinite.

It was a perfect reflection of their relationship.

Living under the same roof, yet not close.

Close yet far, or far yet close.

“It’s about Her Highness, the Princess.”

“Her Highness? Miss I-Yeon?”

“Yes. She called today.”

Seojun’s brow furrowed slightly.

“She said she wanted to visit before the bridal selection began, but couldn’t make time. And with fairness issues, she said she couldn’t come. She apologized.”

He hadn’t expected Yeon to be considerate toward his family as well.

When he’d once mentioned that his parents might oppose her, he’d said he would handle it—and brushed it off.

“And what did you say?”

“What could I say? You and your father have already decided to move forward with this marriage…”

But Hyojin’s face was not bright as she said it. She lowered her gaze and fidgeted with her fingers.

“She seems like such a good person. You can tell she was raised with love. Even just hearing her voice… she’s so lovely. Almost makes the Empress herself enviable.”

“She is a good person.”

Seojun’s face softened briefly with warmth at the thought of Yeon.

But Hyojin’s expression was the opposite—almost on the verge of tears.

“Seojun… do you really have to marry Her Highness?”

One of Seojun’s eyebrows arched upward.

It was the first time in his life that Hyojin had opposed something Baesim had decided.