Chapter 30…
Hong-a naturally frowned as she turned around. Lord Ik-hyeon swaggered into Yeonggyeong Hall. She heard the hurried sound of I-san bowing his head.
“A guest, I see.”
Acting like a brute in front of her, yet behaving all prim and proper before a girl he was meeting for the first time—it was pathetic.
Still, Hong-a was meeting I-san for the first time as well, so she had to put on a polite façade. As calmly as she could, she introduced I-san.
“She is the daughter of the Chief Censor, entering the palace today as my apprentice maid.”
“What?”
Lord Ik-hyeon, who had been trying to act dignified, jumped in surprise. His reaction meant—You’ve gone and brought the Chief Censor’s daughter to your side? Hong-a looked away, feigning ignorance.
“And this is Lord Ik-hyeon, His Majesty’s son and my uncle.”
“I greet Lord Ik-hyeon, son of His Majesty, as the daughter of the Chief Censor.”
“Ah, yes. It is an honor for me as well, young lady.”
Clearly full of things he wanted to say, Lord Ik-hyeon pretended not to notice and saw I-san out. Before him, I-san gave a deep bow and scurried away from Yeonggyeong Hall.
“You really are something, Hong-a.”
Once they were alone, Ik-hyeon finally let loose his complaints.
“That Han Chi-won you asked me to look into—he’s the Chief Censor’s nephew, isn’t he?”
“You checked?”
Feeling awkward, Hong-a flipped through a book and glanced at him. He let out a dry laugh.
“Of course I did! So you must’ve known too! But now you’ve brought in the Chief Censor’s daughter as well? Why are you so fixated on him?”
“It’s not an obsession. I only asked about Han Chi-won out of curiosity. As for an apprentice maid, her family was the best match in terms of status, so I chose her.”
Her brazen answer made Ik-hyeon feel like he was losing his mind. He should’ve been the one making her feel this way, not the other way around. Puzzled by the unfamiliar emotion, Ik-hyeon thumped his chest.
“I just can’t figure you out!”
He gulped down cold water in frustration.
But obsession or not, Hong-a had no other choice.
Becoming monarch hadn’t given her much freedom. At best, it allowed her to voice some opinions. She still couldn’t move freely.
The only thing she could do was make the best of what was possible inside the palace. Building even a small connection with Han Hwak was one way to do that.
“So, what about Han Chi-won?”
“No, what about Choi Han-gyeom?”
“What?”
The unexpected name made Hong-a furrow her brow.
Since returning to the palace, she had lost contact with him. Naturally so—there had never been any real bond between them. The tie had been forcibly strung together by Ik-hyeon and Lord Suchun. Now that she was back in the palace, there was no reason for them to cross paths again.
She regretted not even getting to say a proper farewell, but that was all. She had no intention of doing anything for him. They had simply gone back to being strangers.
“Choi Han-gyeom has already been looking into this.”
“Why?”
“How should I know!”
Her uncle, eight years younger than her, burst out angrily. Hong-a shrugged innocently, truly not knowing. She had asked nothing of him, nor sought any help.
“Anyway, I’ll combine what I found and what Choi Han-gyeom found and explain it to you.”
Ik-hyeon described the absurd encounter when he met Han-gyeom by Han Hwak’s wall, then let out a heavy sigh. It was clear from Hong-a’s expression that she had little interest in his troubles.
“He’s a year older than me, but he doesn’t attend the academy. Seems the Chief Censor is personally teaching him.”
He continued with other details.
That the reason he didn’t attend the academy was the rumor he was terrible at studying. That when his father became a provincial governor, Han-gyeom was left in Han Hwak’s care. All sorts of stories.
But none of it was the concrete information she wanted. Hong-a listened intently until the very end.
“And apparently, he has no betrothed.”
Ik-hyeon finished in a dissatisfied tone. Hong-a’s face lit up, and seeing that, he folded his arms smugly as if to say, I knew it.
“Choi Han-gyeom told me not to mention it, but I figured this is what you’d want to know.”
“He told you not to tell me? Why?”
Tilting her head, Hong-a asked again. Acting as if he were far older, Ik-hyeon said:
“You really are naïve. Why do you think?”
“Well… maybe he was just bored?”
“Forget it.”
He waved his hand irritably, whistling as he looked away from her. This was a rare chance, and he wanted to keep at least one little thing to himself to tease her.
Time felt like a curse. Her rapidly growing body only became more cumbersome. Each year, her sense of futility grew. All she could do was count the time left and spend it as best she could with her mother.
Other than constantly running to the Royal Infirmary and insisting that they always wash their hands with soap before treatments—though she knew the current disinfecting methods were primitive compared to the future—she had little to say.
The only respite was seeing Hong-yeon. Now that she could talk, her little sister was impossibly adorable. The more she grew, the more she resembled their mother, making Hong-a even more affectionate toward her.
“Sister!”
As soon as Hong-a arrived at her quarters, Hong-yeon came running out. Hong-a bent down quickly and scooped her up. At nine years old, it was hard to carry her, but she managed awkwardly.
“You came to play with me, didn’t you? Right?”
Now five years old, Hong-yeon was bright and cheerful. Though she was often sick, it never dulled her spirit.
Unlike Hong-a, who grew more reserved with age, Hong-yeon ran fearlessly into the Crown Prince’s arms, and when greeting the King and Queen, she would charm them with playful antics.
She was simply a normal, lively child.
The childlike innocence Hong-a had to fake, Hong-yeon embodied naturally. Hong-a cherished her little sister dearly, who had what she herself could never have—purity and lightness.
“Shall we play together, then?”
“Yes! You’re always busy.”
Hong-yeon pouted, which was so endearing that Hong-a and the court ladies burst out laughing.
“Then today, I’ll show you something fun.”
Hong-a took her to the training grounds—set up behind the Eastern Palace for the Crown Prince.
She was trying to extend her father’s pitiful exercise time.
Even though he could have others teach him, he insisted on learning archery directly from his father. Wanting to maintain his dignity before his daughter, the Crown Prince even shortened his study time for archery practice.
Since Hong-a was also learning archery basics, she was allowed to be there too.
“What do they do here?”
“This is where Father practices swordsmanship and archery. He even taught me to shoot a few times.”
“Archery?”
When Hong-yeon tilted her head, her nurse quickly explained. Seeing Hong-yeon clap excitedly made Hong-a smile again.
“Then you can shoot too, Sister?”
“Well… I can’t promise to hit the target.”
At Hong-a’s gesture, Nani handed her a bow specially made for a child. It came with small bamboo arrows.
Taking the bow, Hong-a faced the target, braced her legs firmly, inhaled deeply, and focused as she drew the string. The sting in her fingertips spread sharply.
Twang!
The arrow flew as she released the string.
As expected, she wasn’t particularly talented. Hitting the bullseye was too much. But at least the arrow struck the edge of the target—enough to save face.
“Sister! You hit it!”
Even though her shot wasn’t that good, Hong-yeon jumped up and down in excitement. Everyone worried she might fall.
“My lady, your dignity…!”
Her nurse’s scolding voice from behind went unheard. Hong-yeon rushed into Hong-a’s skirts, laughing, and clung to her.
Seeing her little sister like that eased her heart. The refreshing feeling of shooting, plus her sister’s charm, soothed her restless mind.
Coming here had been the right choice. Hong-a laughed freely for the first time in a while.
“I want to try too!”
“That bow is too big for you. Next time, we’ll ask Father to teach you. We’ll even have a bow made just for you.”
“Then you shoot again, Sister! Hit the center this time!”
Hong-a picked up the bow again. A cool breeze brushed her cheek.
The center…
Even if she aimed for it, she knew she couldn’t hit it. Still, she fixed her eyes on the target and pulled back the string.
She gave all her strength, then released swiftly. The arrow flew—its landing spot didn’t matter. It felt like her worries flew away with it.
“Sister! It’s closer this time!”
This arrow struck a bit higher than the last.
“If you keep going, you’ll hit the middle!”
Hong-yeon shouted happily, glancing between the target and her sister.
Hong-a kept firing. She loosed arrow after arrow until quite a few dotted the target. At last, she felt a sense of relief.
So this is why people need hobbies.
The thought came idly. Shooting a few arrows wouldn’t erase her worries, but still—occasional diversions were necessary.
She waited for the wind to settle, then drew the string once more.
Twack!
The final arrow landed just below the bullseye. Cheers mixed—Hong-yeon’s excited voice with the court ladies’. But Hong-a hardly heard them.
She too was thrilled, scooping Hong-yeon up and bouncing with her. Undignified, yes. But it was the happiest moment she’d had in a long time.
