Chapter 2 

The first disaster that struck the family was the death of the eldest son, Sahum, who had always been the pride of Mo Jinpyeong.

No one knew why he ended his own life.

Unlike Gyoheum—who ignored his studies and constantly caused trouble—Sahum was the kind of man who seemed to have walked straight out of a classical book: upright, diligent, flawless.

He passed the military exam and rose smoothly through the ranks, becoming the Captain of the Palace Guards, responsible for defending the royal palace.

Everyone praised him, saying he would surpass even his father one day.

But then… one day, he hung himself from the main beam of his office.

Some people said he took responsibility for a recent fire in the palace.
Some whispered he must have had hidden worries no one knew about.

Nonsense.

All of it was absurd.

Gyoheum knew his brother was not someone who would choose death over such trivial reasons.

There had to be some other reason—something no one knew.
Something even Gyoheum didn’t know.

Like… someone might have killed him.

― Brother.

The morning Sahum died, Gyoheum had run into him on the way back home, after drinking all night with friends.

― “You’re only coming in now?”

That single sentence sobered Gyoheum instantly.
His slouched back straightened, his unfocused eyes cleared.

― “You’re going to the palace earlier than usual.”

Gyoheum had heard that Sahum was being accused for the recent palace fire.

Several court workers had died. Someone had to take responsibility.

Meanwhile, Gyoheum was drinking and fooling around.
He felt embarrassed facing his older brother.

But Sahum never scolded him.

Whenever their father criticized Gyoheum, Sahum would say:

“He’ll find his way when the time comes. Gyoheum is wiser than I am.”

Their father dismissed it as nonsense, but Sahum never lost faith in his younger brother.

That was why—even though Gyoheum defied their father endlessly—he never dared to disobey Sahum.

― “I’m in a hurry. I’m meeting someone.”

― “Meeting someone? At this hour?”

Gyoheum looked at the sky. Dawn hadn’t even broken yet.

Sahum stared at him for a moment, thinking, then nodded slowly.

― “I’m meeting the Minister of the Middle Secretariat.”

― “Why?”

Gyoheum frowned and waited for an answer, but Sahum didn’t explain. Instead, he changed the subject.

― “We’ll talk later. Father will be leaving for court soon—go inside before you run into him.”

― “…Yes.”

Gyoheum scratched the back of his head and bowed.

That was the last time he ever saw him alive.

The next thing he heard was that Sahum had hanged himself from the office beam.

He was told to send servants to retrieve the body for the funeral.

After that, Mo Jinpyeong collapsed.
He never recovered and resigned his general’s post. He was still bedridden.

Mother no longer left her room. She gave up all household matters to the servants and shut herself away.

Sister-in-law and nephew returned to her parents’ home and showed no sign of coming back.

The house was like a temple—silent and hollow.
His parents were like living corpses.

The only person who could pull the household back together was Gyoheum.

And so, overnight, he became a different man.

He cut ties with his drinking friends.
He dedicated himself to study.

He passed the military exam and became an officer of the Capital Guard Bureau, responsible for the city’s security.

Now, at the mention of his marriage, he said:

“Marriage to the minister’s illegitimate daughter…? He killed my brother, drove my father from office, and now it’s my turn.”

Mo Jinpyeong frowned faintly.

“Still saying that? The minister had nothing to do with Sahum’s death. Sahum… took his own life.”

Saying this looked as painful for him as ripping out his own organs.

“Then why did Brother tell me he was meeting him that morning? He never talked like that. He must have sensed something wrong—he was warning me.”

“That’s just your imagination. And this marriage is not the minister’s idea—it is His Majesty’s will. The eunuch who delivered the letter was from the Crown Prince.”

“And who controls His Majesty from behind the scenes? Who doesn’t know that? Isn’t it the same Minister—who can supposedly make a bird fall from the sky?”

“If he’s so powerful, why would he want a marriage with our family? What does he gain?”

“His illegitimate daughter is a premature weakling. And not even from the official wife. Who would want to marry her?”

“Gyoheum.”

Mo Jinpyeong called his son’s name in anxiety.

Gyoheum smiled sweetly—too sweetly. It made the feeling of dread stronger.

“If the minister wants to insult me, let him. But—”

His eyes curved in amusement.

“One day, I will repay every debt. I will remember every insult and return it twofold, threefold.”

Mo Jinpyeong closed his eyes tightly.
As if he knew exactly what kind of man his son was becoming.

Gyoheum softened his voice.

“Don’t worry. I won’t stand proudly like Brother did and face the storm head-on.”

“…”

“Those who act noble are always the first to be cut down.”

The edge of his smile grew cold.

“If needed, I will lie with a smile. I will deceive with a shameless face, calculate with cunning. If I must bow, I will bow even to a passing dog. And then I will seize power with my own hands—the very power you and Brother warned me about.”

“Gyoheum…”

“You said the minister’s daughter is to be my bride, correct?”

Gyoheum rose slowly.
Mo Jinpyeong looked up at his tall son—and knocked over his teacup with a trembling hand.

Ripples spread across the pale green tea.

“He underestimates me. If he throws his premature daughter at me, I will use her as the piece that topples him from his throne. One day he will regret this decision. I wonder who will win in the end—him or me. Rest well.”

He bowed and left the room.

Only after the door closed did Mo Jinpyeong finally exhale the breath he had been holding.

“…Gyoheum.”

His son’s name slipped out like a sigh.

“Life… never goes the way one wants.”

****

The door rattled.

Soran flinched and looked up, eyes round with fear—and a little hope.

Her lips were so dry they cracked no matter how many times she licked them.

“…It was just the wind.”

Instead of looking disappointed, she smiled sheepishly.

In truth, she had been hoping.

Her own scent—musty and sour—rose faintly from her clothing.

“Lies,” she whispered.

She had been waiting.

Waiting for Gyoheum to open that door.
To apologize for leaving her alone on their wedding night, scratching his head awkwardly.

―Marriage? You mean… me?

She had asked in disbelief.

Lady Munhyeon had snapped sharply:

―Dull girl! What, are you deaf now? How many times must I repeat myself?

―Ah… yes.

Whenever she stood before Lady Munhyeon, Soran shrank like a squid grilled too long over fire.

A helpless laugh slipped out.

―Laughing like that—so you do want to get married, don’t you? Shameless little thing, just like that vulgar woman who seduced my husband.

Lady Munhyeon never bothered to hide her disgust.
Every word stabbed into Soran like a thousand needles.

It hurts.

While Soran silently swallowed the pain, Lady Munhyeon continued proudly:

―Think about it. Where else will you find someone as generous as I am? I feed you, clothe you, house you. And now I’m even granting you marriage.

Soran said nothing.

―Yet you never once say thank you. Just like your mother—shameless to the core.

―Th… thank you.

Soran bowed and smiled, though the trembling at the corner of her lips betrayed her fear.

But Lady Munhyeon didn’t notice—she was too busy frowning.

Soran stared at the floor with her wide, blinking eyes.

She had never imagined her future. She had been too busy surviving each day.

She never hoped to leave this place.
She believed she was destined to live like this forever—doing chores, enduring abuse.

Marriage.

As she whispered the word, something like a faint hope flickered in her expression.

Dull as people called her, she wasn’t ignorant.
She knew what marriage meant.

It meant… a new family.

Family.

Her heart thumped once.

Then a memory from long ago—when she was ten—floated across her mind.