Episode 3
The Royal Palace of the Cheonmang Kingdom.
Within the vast great hall, only two figures remained.
King Taemujin sat lazily upon the jade throne, while Yul Seowan stood silently in the center of the hall, facing him.
“At last, some peace. I swear, those officials—what kind of tonic are they brewing that makes them so loud?”
Taemujin frowned and pressed his temples.
The court officials had just left after their noisy dispute, and even now the ringing in his head had not subsided.
The crime of disturbing the king’s composure was one that would not be repaid even by death.
And yet the cause of it all stood calmly before him, showing no sign of remorse.
Watching her, the king grew irritated and spoke again.
“What do you think, Tanrang? If only you would bend your will, everything would settle peacefully.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty. That is not possible.”
As always, the answer came flat and unwavering.
Taemujin clicked his tongue, his refined brows furrowing.
He was a highly pragmatic king.
No matter how much the officials gossiped about Tanrang Seonggun’s origins, he did not so much as blink.
To Taemujin, Seowan was a loyal subject—and a useful blade.
She was an exceptionally powerful Heavenly Being, absolutely obedient to the king’s command.
Having personally annihilated the entire Yul Clan, she had no faction left to support her, making her the perfect sword for the royal house.
Taemujin had personally recognized her as Tanrang Seonggun, granting her the title of Great General along with vast wealth.
Unlike the members of the Seven Stars families who constantly pushed boundaries, Seowan had always been faithful.
And yet such a person caused such a disaster.
Just thinking about it gave him a headache. Taemujin narrowed his eyes at her.
What the Yeon family had done crossed a line.
They had attempted to artificially create Heavenly Beings, kidnapping numerous children in the process, even dragging in the Fourth Prince.
They had to be eradicated completely.
No one associated with the Yeon family could be allowed to live.
And yet, the Tanrang Seonggun he had sent to apprehend them had returned with a single child.
If it had been a child confined in some underground cell, that would have been one thing—but this child had lived and worked in the Yeon household her entire life.
In the worst case, she might even be an illegitimate child secretly raised within the Yeon family.
And yet she had asked to spare her.
And her reasoning is the most absurd part of all.
Taemujin rested his chin on his hand in dissatisfaction.
She claimed the child was her half-sibling—the very one she had personally abandoned in the Yeon household when she was young.
To protect the family of a traitor for such a reason…
To Taemujin, it was deeply unacceptable.
“I had not realized Tanrang valued family ties so highly.”
“That is not the case. I am simply responsible for that child.”
Seowan answered calmly, unfazed by his sarcasm.
The king still looked unconvinced.
And it was understandable.
The same woman who had slaughtered the Yul Clan upon becoming Tanrang Seonggun was now asking to save her half-sister.
Naturally, the court had erupted.
Some insisted that even blood relatives could not be allowed to preserve the lineage of traitors. Others even suspected Tanrang herself might be involved in the Yeon family’s rebellion.
“The Fourth Prince still has not awakened.”
Taemujin’s light tone lowered slightly.
“You have contributed greatly, but even that has its limits. If the Fourth Prince never wakes again, they will frame this rebellion as something far greater.”
Unlike other noble families, where only one Heavenly Being was born per clan, the royal family—blessed by the power of the sun—was born entirely as Heavenly Beings.
The Fourth Prince had been a weaker member of the royal line and kept in the background, but he was still a Heavenly Being—and still royalty.
“I understand.”
And yet Seowan did not change her stance.
No matter the cost, she intended to take Haena in.
It was not due to sentimentality, nor some sudden compassion for blood ties.
What was taken must be returned. What was given must be repaid.
That was the principle she had lived by all her life.
It was the reason she had destroyed the Yul family. The reason she had served the king.
Haena.
That child was Seowan’s sin.
Seowan lowered her gaze. A memory long buried surfaced from the depths of her mind.
At sixteen, when she heard of her mother’s pregnancy, Seowan answered without hesitation.
“Terminate it.”
Smack!
The response came not in words, but in a burning slap.
Seowan turned her head slowly to look at her mother.
“You heartless wretch! How dare you speak like that to your pregnant mother?”
In her youth, her mother had been the most renowned entertainer in the capital, still beautiful even after passing forty.
“You don’t even know what kind of child this is. It’s a child of the Yeon family—of that noble house!”
Despite the pain in her cheek, Seowan let out a faint laugh.
Even with age, her foolish mother had not changed at all.
She had been a lowly dancer. By day she sold dances and songs, and by night she sold her body.
Like many men, Seowan’s father had spoken sweet lies to a woman he spent only one night with.
He had claimed he was the head of the Yul family, Tanrang Seonggun, and promised to take her as his lawful wife.
Then he disappeared, leaving her with Seowan in her womb.
The woman believed him completely and gave birth, but he never returned.
Beautiful women were plentiful.
Once her body was ruined by childbirth, she fell further and further into poverty.
She resented the man—and she hated Seowan.
This useless wretch. My life is like this because of you.
Unable to bear responsibility for her misfortune, she blamed the child every day.
She resented Seowan for her poverty, while also demanding compensation from her.
As soon as she was old enough, Seowan worked relentlessly.
And when she brought money home—
Is that all you earned? You lazy girl! Do you know how much I spent raising you?
At first, she feared her mother. Then she grew angry. Eventually, she became numb to it all.
And yet she was doing it again. It was almost laughable.
“This child is different from you. She is precious. Once I give birth to her, that person will take me into the Yeon family.”
Her mother murmured dreamily, stroking her belly.
Unlike the crumbling house around her, she wore silk robes and jewelry entirely beyond her means.
There was nothing more ridiculous than this farce.
Seowan looked at her coldly.
It was impossible that a cheap entertainer like her mother had truly been received by such a noble guest.
Even if it were true, a child born of a lowly dancer would never be accepted into a noble house.
At best, it would simply be another burden added to her life.
Seowan muttered a curse under her breath.
Her mother, seated inside that house. The child yet to be born.
Just imagining having to work herself to the bone to feed them was unbearable.
In the end, her mother did not terminate the pregnancy.
And yet, contrary to Seowan’s expectations, there were still two of them.
Her mother died.
It was said she lost too much blood during childbirth.
Her face, always twisted in bitterness, finally smoothed in death.
After the funeral, Seowan looked down at the newborn in her arms.
Ironically, the child resembled neither the mother nor the father—but Seowan herself.
Looking at the infant who resembled her, she thought:
Why must I raise this child?
She had finally escaped that toxic bond with her mother. And now she was expected to take on another?
She did not want responsibility.
Raising this child would only worsen her situation.
She knew exactly how children like this were raised.
A useless burden.
The thing that ruined my life. Lazy, worthless filth.
She alone had been enough of that.
After the third seven-day period passed and the baby’s red face softened into a pale glow, Seowan sold her dead mother’s silk clothes and jewelry.
With all the money she had, she bought clothes and swaddling cloth for the baby.
That was all she would give her half-sibling.
The one who discarded blood relatives so coldly did not even have the right to name her.
Seowan wrapped the infant in fine silk.
And before dawn broke, she carried the child into the streets.
The baby slept peacefully, not crying.
Seowan placed her in front of the grand gates of the Yeon family mansion, a wealthy merchant house.
Wrapped in silk, she would either be adopted as a daughter if lucky, or at worst become a servant—but she would not starve.
Seowan turned away.
The baby began to cry.
She did not look back.
Seowan forgot the blood relative she would never see again.
She lived on, grinding through a life she hated, killing many in order to survive.
She learned that her mother’s words had been true, and she no longer starved.
So she continued to live that way, following orders.
And when she eventually came to the Yeon estate as part of her duty, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
Inside the ruined, chaotic hall, she found the child.
And that feeling became memory.
The moment she saw the child’s face looking up at her, she realized it instantly.
“P-please… save me…”
A thin body. Roughened hands.
A fragile voice trembling with tears.
All of it—was her sin.
Every crime the child confessed belonged to Seowan.
Because she was the one who had made the child live that life.
Haena’s face came to mind.
A child who resembled her, yet did not.
Round eyes. Orange-tinted irises. A gaze pure, untouched by malice.
Seowan had intended to tell her the truth. Haena had the right to know.
“Thank you…”
The faint voice that had once murmured on her shoulder returned to her mind.
Seowan’s gaze lowered.
She bowed deeply to the king.
“I will take my leave of the palace.”
After learning everything, what expression would the child show her?
