Chapter 12 …
Uninvited Guest (2)
Seoryeon left the annex with a joyful heart but quickly hid upon spotting Gukgong.
Gukgong and his retainers were entirely focused on welcoming their guests.
Amidst the bustle, Cheok Junsin loudly called out to Gukgong.
“Gukgong!”
Whether he was drunk or just pretending, no one could tell, and all eyes turned to Cheok Junsin.
“The sun is already high in the sky! Why hasn’t the wedding begun yet?”
“…….”
The dignitaries had been exchanging only formal pleasantries about the food and the wine, but now they started stealing glances at Gukgong.
“Ah, now that I think of it, the groom hasn’t arrived, has he?”
The way the question was asked—knowing full well the answer—irritated Gukgong.
He immediately signaled to Steward Jang.
At that moment, a palanquin arrived at the main gate.
“Sir! He has arrived.”
Steward Jang, flustered like a cornered rat, hurried toward the gate.
Through the wide-open doors stepped Sohyang, elegantly dressed.
The guests, who had been buried in the banquet and only keeping an eye on Gukgong, lifted their heads and turned toward the gate, surprised by her sudden arrival.
No one had expected Sohyang to come. Given Lee Jagyeom’s long-standing disapproval of gyo bang affairs, his expression was even more one of shock.
Even after all these years, her grace and refinement were undeniable.
The men swallowed hard, and the women accompanying them jabbed the husbands beside them to snap them out of their stunned admiration.
But none changed more dramatically than Cheok Junsin.
Until moments ago, he had spoken as if the world were beneath him, but seeing Sohyang, he froze as if struck dumb. Yet his glazed, wandering eyes couldn’t leave her as she walked gracefully toward them.
Sohyang moved between Cheok Junsin and the guests and bowed respectfully toward Gukgong.
“You were looking for me, weren’t you?”
“Has His Majesty not arrived yet?”
Sohyang hesitated, unsure how to answer.
“I asked you,” Gukgong said, his somewhat restrained voice falling over her.
“Yes. His Majesty will soon depart with the female entertainers’ procession.”
“Soon?”
Lee Jagyeom, who had been pretending calm, tensed visibly.
“My apologies, but His Majesty—”
“How dare you blame His Majesty for any so-called safety!”
“My apologies. It is entirely my fault.”
Startled by the sudden thunderous reprimand, Sohyang prostrated herself immediately.
Seeing Sohyang—usually proud and imperious thanks to royal backing—so obedient and humble astonished everyone.
Watching from afar, Seoryeon clenched her fists tightly.
She wanted nothing more than to rush out, help her mother to her feet, and drive a knife into Gukgong’s throat.
But with her master and fellow disciple missing, she could not act recklessly. Moreover, simply seeking vengeance through death seemed too wasteful.
“Heh. One would think Sohyang had strung a leash around His Majesty’s neck,” Cheok Junsin said, brushing his tangled beard and rising from his seat.
Though his words were harsh, no one dared oppose him—he commanded the king’s guards.
“How can the groom’s absence be blamed solely on Sohyang? Perhaps he is simply displeased with the bride.”
Unaware that the bride was Sohyang’s daughter, Cheok Junsin shifted the blame onto Gukgong’s adopted daughter.
It was then Seoryeon realized how wrong the wedding had gone. After all the chaos, the groom still hadn’t arrived.
A wave of frustration and irritation washed over her.
Seoryeon herself most wanted to avoid this wedding. She had already endured two forced formalities after the sudden raid, sitting rigid like a stone statue. Training under a waterfall would have been preferable. Did anyone understand how suffocating it was to wear multiple ceremonial layers under the bright spring sun?
Lee Jagyeom looked down at Sohyang and asked again,
“Do you think the same?”
“No. This is all my fault. Punish only me,” Sohyang replied, bowing once more to Gukgong.
Seeing her mother humiliated only deepened her resentment toward a man she had never met.
Though she longed to act immediately, she had promised Gukgong she would never meet him again. That decision was best—for herself and her mother.
“You know how important today is, Sohyang.”
Gukgong pressed her further, showing no mercy.
“I… I have nothing to say, no words even if I had ten mouths. Please, just kill me.”
“That death will be answered by the Minister of War. You have been the guest who waited the longest.”
Sohyang was quick to understand. Having dealt with countless people over the years, she immediately grasped why Gukgong had summoned her. The king’s absence was only a superficial reason.
She rose and bowed to Cheok Junsin.
“Minister of War, my apologies. I shall restore the disrupted ceremony at Haewolgak.”
Cheok Junsin’s gaze wandered indecisively. By siding with her, he had inadvertently placed her in a difficult position. He had come merely to see whose adopted daughter she was, yet now he risked losing face in front of Sohyang.
He had to choose: either follow Sohyang out like a whipped dog or return quietly to his seat and salvage whatever dignity remained.
“Hmph. No matter, the ceremony may have been disrupted, but having come this far, one must see the appearance of the future queen,” he muttered, returning to his seat.
Sohyang also withdrew, having paid respects to Gukgong and promised to summon His Majesty promptly.
Watching this, Seoryeon ground her teeth in anger. Even the one she had hoped could help her and her mother had bowed before Gukgong. Her last shred of hope vanished. Her resolve strengthened—she would not rely on anyone else.
As she quietly returned to the annex, Seoryeon resolved: she would crush that so-called king with her own hands.
The scent of incense drifted beyond the walls of the gyo bang that day. Entertainers, clad in the multicolored ceremonial robes symbolizing good fortune for the royal family, waited in the courtyard. Musicians, following orders, repeatedly tuned their instruments.
“Your Majesty, you must depart soon. If you delay any longer…”
Minister Kim hesitated to speak the words Gukgong would not tolerate, only pacing nervously. By now, the groom should have departed. Yet the king, unwilling to leave Haewolgak even on the third day before the wedding, lay there stubbornly, drawing murmurs from passersby.
“Your Majesty, what exactly are you waiting for?”
Wanghae said nothing.
This was the second time he had felt this way—though he was the king, he had to marry unwillingly.
Was this how a cow feels when led to slaughter?
The first wedding didn’t stir much emotion. He treated it as just part of royal protocol. Everyone saw his marriage to his aunt as a reckless decision by Gukgong, eliciting more sympathy than criticism. But this wedding was different. Rumors that the bride was an adopted daughter raised subtle hopes among ministers and palace ladies. Wanghae could not shake his turbulent thoughts; the more he did, the more he longed for that child.
‘Is she even alive…?’
If only he could hear news of her once, just once, he might be able to let go of his lingering attachment.
“Sohyang has arrived, Your Majesty.”
Hearing her announcement outside, Wanghae sprang up.
“Bring her in.”
Sohyang entered, her face deep in thought.
“She will depart soon. Do not hurry.”
Sohyang remained silent for a moment, then, as if making a great decision, looked at Wanghae resolutely.
“The child you have been waiting for—she is alive.”
Wanghae’s eyes widened.
“Where has she been? What is she doing now?”
Despite the barrage of questions, Sohyang calmly placed her hands on her knees and answered.
“Someone in Songguk has found a child who seems similar.”
Though she knew exactly who Wanghae awaited, Sohyang could not reveal it. If Seoryeon were identified as his daughter, the fragile king before her would be swept into a storm he could not endure. He was not yet ready to confront the enormous figure of Gukgong. Sohyang understood well the burden of handling what one cannot protect, and thus she had not interfered.
“But now, she has nowhere to return,” Sohyang said.
“What do you mean…”
“Your Majesty stays in Haewolgak day and night, yet do you think Gukgong will leave Haewolgak untouched?”
Wanghae finally came to his senses at Sohyang’s pointed words. Gukgong was exactly that kind of man—he would have removed anyone opposing his will long ago. It was surprising that Haewolgak, which the king visited daily like a thirsty deer at a well, remained intact. Haewolgak had been the site where the former king, Wanghae’s father, hoped to continue the tradition of beautiful female entertainers. He had even taught young Wanghae to play the haegeum there. Wanghae could not allow this last lifeline to disappear.
“Chana! What are you standing there for? Hurry and prepare.”
