Episode 4
The Woman Who Offends the Eye
“Your Majesty, I’ve brought the memorial you requested.”
“Come in.”
Lee Gyeom welcomed Taeyeom, who arrived with impeccable timing. He intended to use the pending state affairs, delayed due to his recent campaign, as a way to dispel lingering thoughts of that woman.
Some time passed as Gyeom reviewed the documents.
“What is this?”
He glanced at a letter Taeyeom held out.
“A dispatch from Grand General Cheon Taesu, Your Majesty.”
“Cheon Taesu… Then it must concern Seolhwa.”
Currently, Grand General Cheon Taesu was leading the battlefront in Seolhwa in Gyeom’s stead. Gyeom had originally planned to head there himself, but was forced to divert to Seoju—formerly a territory of Seojin—due to an uprising. Thus, only Cheon had marched on Seolhwa.
“It reports that the King and Queen of Seolhwa have been killed. They resisted rather than accept our offer of surrender.”
Gyeom had intended to absorb Seolhwa’s royal family into Hwangseon’s aristocracy—had they surrendered. At present, he needed not more enemies, but loyal forces.
Since the reign of his late father, the imperial authority had been steadily eroded by powerful aristocratic families. Gyeom’s military campaigns were designed to restore that authority—by subduing neighboring nations and drawing their royal bloodlines into his fold.
“The Crown Prince went missing in the chaos, and the Princess was reportedly slain while attempting to escape.”
“Won’t the remaining forces in Seolhwa rise in rebellion, then?”
With the entire royal family slaughtered, resistance was inevitable. If a rebellion sparked, it would cost Hwangseon unnecessary blood and strength.
“We’ll need to placate them,” Gyeom said flatly.
He took up a scroll and commanded that the bodies of the Seolhwa King and Queen be respectfully retrieved and given proper burials.
“Had we not met as sovereigns, they might not have met such fates.”
Gyeom bore no personal resentment toward Seolhwa’s King and Queen. The timing was simply… unfortunate.
Had the circumstances been different, perhaps their nations could have shared peace.
At the very least, he wished to grant them honor in death.
It was the only way to ease the guilt of crushing lives under the weight of conquest.
“My parents died in that war.”
Why did thoughts of her surface now, of all times?
Though he did not know which land she hailed from, that woman—Danseol—was undoubtedly a victim of his wars.
Had he not launched his conquests, she might be living in peace now, surrounded by family and joy.
Was it guilt that stirred his thoughts?
“I did not spare your life out of mercy… but punishment.”
He had released the woman who had tried to kill him.
Attempting regicide was a crime punishable by death.
Yet he had chosen to cover her sins.
“Strange indeed…”
In the past, he would have executed her without hesitation. No questions asked.
But with her… he didn’t want to.
Even he could not explain it.
—
Danseol remained lying in place long after Gyeom left.
“Hhhkk…!”
Tears slipped through clenched teeth as she lay motionless, staring up at the high ceiling.
Everything had failed.
Her revenge for her parents. Her justice for Seolhwa.
All of it, in ruins.
She hadn’t even been able to scratch him.
If only she hadn’t hesitated…
If not for the plum blossom mark engraved on his body…
If she hadn’t frozen at the sight of it, she might have killed him.
But she had let that one, fleeting chance slip through her own fingers.
The bitterness was unbearable.
“Father… Mother… Forgive me.”
Tears spilled once more.
According to the last message she received before fleeing, her parents’ bodies had been discarded on a barren hillside.
Their loyal officials had pleaded to be allowed to retrieve the corpses, but every request had been cruelly denied.
“Live on.”
The Emperor of Hwangseon—Lee Gyeom—had committed unspeakable crimes… and yet had the nerve to act as if sparing her life was some benevolent gesture.
She hated him.
Hated him more than anything.
“You think I won’t…?”
She would do as he said. She would survive.
And then she would kill him with her own two hands.
Danseol wiped her tears roughly with her sleeve and pushed herself up.
—
“No! This cannot be allowed!”
“Do you truly have a death wish? Out of my way!”
SLAM!
The door burst open with a violent crash.
“…Your Majesty the Empress!”
A woman adorned in resplendent robes strode in without hesitation.
The golden hairpin coiled in her styled hair gleamed ominously under the moonlight.
Cheon Ihwa, Empress of Hwangseon.
Danseol recognized her instantly, having heard many stories.
Ihwa had risen to the position of Empress early, backed by the powerful Cheon clan.
Because the divine mark remained a closely guarded imperial secret, most assumed Ihwa’s title came solely from political might.
Ihwa approached Danseol without the slightest pause.
Her heavy footsteps echoed with dread.
The elegance of her painted face only made her presence all the more terrifying.
Danseol stood frozen, unable to move.
SMACK!
Without warning, Ihwa struck Danseol across the face.
The blow was so fierce, Danseol’s head whipped to the side, her cheek instantly reddening and swelling.
“Was it you?” Ihwa spat. “How dare you lie with His Majesty, you insolent wench.”
Her cold gaze swept over Danseol—her disheveled hair, her loose clothing, the fallen lamp, and the abandoned wine table.
“I… I didn’t—”
SMACK!
Another strike, this time to the other cheek.
The inside of Danseol’s mouth tore open; the taste of blood spread thick and bitter.
“Using that pretty face to seduce His Majesty… Filthy little thing.”
With a sharp glance, Ihwa gestured to the maid behind her.
The woman stepped forward and presented a bowl of dark medicine.
“Drink it.”
Danseol lifted her gaze.
She didn’t know what was in the concoction, but she knew it wouldn’t be anything good.
“…I refuse.”
Ihwa’s expression twisted with fury.
Danseol braced for another strike and closed her eyes.
But it didn’t come.
“Force her.”
“Pardon?”
The maid hesitated.
“I said feed it to her. Now.”
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!”
The maid pressed the bowl to Danseol’s lips.
“Nnngh—!”
Danseol clenched her mouth shut, resisting with all her strength.
They struggled.
“Ahh!”
Ihwa grabbed Danseol’s hair and yanked her head back.
Pain forced her jaw open, and Ihwa seized the bowl from the maid—
—then poured the bitter liquid into Danseol’s mouth.
“Kuh… khh—!”
The foul brew choked her as it flooded her throat.
She coughed violently, gasping for breath.
But Ihwa didn’t stop.
Clatter.
Only once the last drop was gone did she toss the empty bowl aside.
Danseol collapsed, trembling and breathless.
“Now you look more like what you are,” Ihwa sneered.
Danseol’s silken hair was tangled and matted.
Her once-fine garments were soaked in medicine.
Her face stained.
A pitiful sight.
“Why… are you doing this…?”
“You should have known your place.”
“Ugh…!”
Danseol tried to speak, but a strangled groan escaped her lips instead.
Her stomach suddenly felt as if it were on fire.
The pain intensified, like her insides were melting.
As she writhed in agony, Ihwa’s smile deepened.
“Ah, I see the medicine is taking effect.”
Danseol clutched her burning abdomen, unable to form words—only labored, gasping breaths.
Just then—
“Empress! What is the meaning of this!?”
“Grand Empress Dowager!”
Everyone in the room immediately bowed.
The woman who had stormed in was none other than the Grand Empress Dowager, Gyeom’s grandmother—the highest elder of Hwangseon—and the very one who had placed Danseol beside him.
“I merely did what needed to be done.”
“You call tormenting an innocent girl your duty? Have you lost your senses?!”
The Grand Empress gasped when she saw Danseol collapsed and barely conscious.
Her face had gone pale as death.
“She’s the Emperor’s chosen consort! Even you, as Empress, have no right to harm her!”
She had waited anxiously, but with excitement, upon hearing Gyeom had spent a long night with Danseol.
The grandson who had rejected women for so long had finally accepted one.
“What if she is with child?!”
At the word pregnant, Ihwa’s face contorted with rage.
To her, this low-born girl wasn’t just a threat—
She was an insult to her title.
“Then how unfortunate for you,” Ihwa said coldly.
“What…?”
But before the Grand Empress could respond, Ihwa’s meaning became clear.
A dark, wet stain had spread across Danseol’s silk skirt.
Bright red blood bloomed beneath her.
