Chapter 23
“Do you know about Han Hwak, the Chief State Councillor?”
Hong-a remembered what his marriage ties would eventually bring about.
Han Hwak’s son-in-law was Prince Geyang, and his daughter married Princess Jeonghui, making him in-laws with King Sejo.
They were the ones who had cooperated with Grand Prince Suyang in his usurpation and driven King Danjong to his death. That was why any marriage alliance not yet concluded had to be prevented, while ties that could be secured had to be drawn in.
“You mean the man who became my elder brother’s father-in-law?”
“Yes. Do you happen to know anything about that household?”
“Well, probably not more than you do. They’re such a powerful clan, with the Emperor of Ming as their in-law, that even His Majesty doesn’t dare act rashly against them. I’d imagine my brother’s marriage to one of their ladies wasn’t without purpose.”
Prince Ikhyeon might have fallen behind in scholarly pursuits, but he was not a fool. He grasped the situation quickly. Hong-a nodded as if in agreement.
“Then perhaps you know this as well?”
The problem was, Han Hwak had many children. It was hard for Hong-a to recall in detail the ages of those who weren’t key figures. Help was absolutely necessary.
“Does the Chief State Councillor have a son around my age?”
Pffft!
Both Hong-a and Prince Ikhyeon slowly turned their heads.
Unbelievable though it was, the sound of soup being sprayed out had come from Han-gyeom, who had been quietly eating in a corner with a calm expression.
His face flushed red as he choked and coughed in distress.
Prince Suchun, sitting nearby, quickly offered his water. Han-gyeom gulped it down, ears burning red. Prince Ikhyeon was so absorbed in watching his flustered appearance that he almost forgot the outrageous question his niece had just asked.
“A–a son your age?!”
Han-gyeom stammered the words before he’d even finished coughing. Only then did Prince Ikhyeon and Prince Suchun realize exactly what their cheeky niece had said.
“Why are you asking about a son your age?”
“You’re only seven years old!”
“Does age matter so much?”
Seven. In modern Korea, that would be an extremely young age, but in Joseon, not so much. Royal children often married around eleven, which meant Hong-a didn’t have much time left.
“I don’t know what you’re plotting, but that’s absurd.”
“You don’t even know what I’m thinking, yet you dismiss it outright?”
Hong-a muttered curtly. She hadn’t expected them to cooperate so easily.
“Fine. At least tell me where the Chief State Councillor’s household is.”
“And what will you do if you know?”
“If Uncle won’t tell me, do I have no other means?”
As Han-gyeom’s coughing still echoed behind them, Prince Ikhyeon let out a loud sigh. For either Ikhyeon or Suchun to sigh in Hong-a’s presence was something unheard of.
“I’ve never tried to guess all your thoughts. You’re clever. But if you’re searching for a marriage partner, you’re gravely mistaken.”
“Why?”
“Your marriage will be decided by your elders. Besides, you’re still a child.”
“Who said I want to marry right away?”
Ever since meeting Suyang, Hong-a had been thinking. Marriage was inevitable. And for some reason, he seemed especially interested in her future union.
In that case, deciding her match before Suyang interfered might be the smarter move. It was, in fact, a rational calculation.
Casting a glance toward Han-gyeom at the back, Hong-a lowered her voice slightly.
“I need someone who will support my father, and later, the Crown Prince to come. Who in this country holds greater power than Han Hwak?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Prince Suchun shook his head. Han-gyeom now watched cautiously, as though trying to gauge the atmosphere. The seriousness of the conversation seemed excessive for two eight-year-olds and a seven-year-old.
“Who could possibly challenge His Highness’s legitimacy? And who would dare not support the Crown Prince born under him?”
Prince Ikhyeon nodded in agreement.
But no one could understand the frustration roiling inside Hong-a. That very uncle nodding so matter-of-factly was destined to become a traitorous Meritorious Retainer of Left Merit. How could they speak so complacently?
Still, she kept her composure. Ikhyeon’s betrayal was far in the future. For now, it was natural that he couldn’t understand her. She worked hard to keep her face neutral, hiding her suffocating thoughts.
“Regrettably, that household does not have a son of your age.”
It was Han-gyeom who inserted himself into the quarrel. His face was no longer flushed; instead, he answered politely with composed clarity.
Hong-a’s gaze turned to him. From his calm manner, it didn’t seem like a lie.
“They only have one son, about ten years older than me. I’ve heard they have many daughters, but only one son.”
Hong-a rolled her eyes. She remembered Han Hwak having multiple sons, so perhaps the others hadn’t been born yet. That meant making him the Crown Prince’s first in-law was already impossible. Her face betrayed disappointment.
“He must already be married, then?”
“Hong-a!”
To her, eighteen didn’t seem all that old. But for a seven-year-old royal princess, suggesting such a match was utterly absurd. Prince Suchun almost leapt up in shock.
She only shrugged, saying it was a joke, though none of the boys at the table seemed to believe her.
“Then perhaps a daughter my age in that household?”
“W–why are you asking that?” Prince Suchun’s voice trembled.
“There are no girls my age in the palace. Around me are only my uncles or little Hong-yeon. One day I’ll have to live outside the palace, but I don’t know at all how girls my age live.”
“I think I’ve heard they have a daughter around your age…”
If she had begun with this explanation, they might have at least pretended to believe her. But after her bombshell earlier, none of them took her words at face value. Prince Ikhyeon narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her from head to toe.
“You can’t have a wedding with another girl.”
“Oh, please,” Hong-a scoffed.
Yet the dark calculation inside her was real.
A mere friendship with the Han clan would not be enough to save her life. A marriage bond was the strongest lifeline.
With neither herself nor Hong-yeon able to secure it, and a marriageable candidate right before her eyes, she couldn’t help but harbor such designs.
The children of Lady Hyebin supported Danjong, following her. If Uncle Suchun became Han Hwak’s son-in-law, that would be a strong rope not only for Hyebin but for Danjong as well.
Her uncles’ eyes wavered as though sensing her hidden intentions. But before any persuasion or coaxing could continue, their quiet gathering ended abruptly. Another uninvited guest had arrived.
“Where is Hong-a?”
At the booming voice of Grand Prince Anpyeong, the boys startled like petty thieves caught red-handed, leaping to their feet.
The voice calling for Hong-a drew closer. While her uncles might be explained away, Han-gyeom’s presence had to be hidden.
“We’ll slip out this way.”
Prince Suchun quickly decided to leave with Han-gyeom through the side door, throwing open the window. Han-gyeom gave a polite bow, but there was no time to properly return it.
Meanwhile, Hong-a rose to divert Anpyeong’s attention. Reluctantly, Prince Ikhyeon was forced to accompany her to meet him, his face showing clear dissatisfaction.
“Oh, there you are, Hong-a!”
As they exited the hall, Grand Prince Anpyeong entered through the main door. A moment later, and they would have been in trouble. Hong-a swallowed nervously and greeted him calmly.
“Uncle, I heard you had entered the palace. What brings you here?”
“I’ve come with very joyful news. But… was there a guest here just now?”
He glanced at Prince Ikhyeon standing behind her.
To her, both were equally uninvited, but watching Ikhyeon shifting awkwardly, she felt an odd pang of sympathy.
“This is my uncle, Prince Ikhyeon, from the quarters of Lady Kim.”
“Ah, one of the princes still in the palace.”
Hong-a introduced him quickly, and Ikhyeon bowed. Anpyeong returned the greeting with the same genial face he had shown at their first meeting.
“Since I rarely meet princes who haven’t left the palace, you feel unfamiliar. So you are Geyang’s younger brother?”
“That is correct.”
“Next time, bring him along too. I’d like to see you both together.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Anpyeong’s gaze drifted to Hong-a, filled with a kind of gentle indifference.
“Well, well, Hong-a. I just came from visiting my brother.”
Ikhyeon’s expression grew strange as he looked back and forth between them.
Though her ears listened to Anpyeong, her attention lingered on Ikhyeon. He might one day betray her, yet he was also someone who had been with her for most of her life.
Perhaps sensing her conflicted heart, Ikhyeon gave a small smile, folding his hands respectfully as he excused himself.
“Your younger brother takes his leave.”
“Yes, return safely.”
As always, Anpyeong was kind, though not in the warm, familial way. Both Hong-a and Ikhyeon could sense the difference.
Leaving only a silent promise mouthed toward her—that they would meet again—Ikhyeon departed the palace in small, quick steps. A strange heaviness pressed down on Hong-a’s heart.
