Chapter : 50
A Slice of Truth (5)
The man was, surprisingly, once betrothed to Sanwol.
Although Jimanil had forcibly taken her away, the two could not forget each other.
Sanwol had tried to escape from Jimanil’s abuse to run away with him, only to be caught each time and suffer even more.
He had given up on Sanwol, thinking she would endure greater hardship because of him—but one day, she came to him.
“She said if she did only what Jimanil told her, he would let her go. She seemed completely elated, as if it was no big deal. I said we shouldn’t expect him to let her go so easily, so we should just run away. Then she said she didn’t want to live running around like that, and asked me to wait just a little… That was the last time I saw her.”
“Did you hear what Jimanil made her do?”
The man shook his head at Yulbok’s question.
“I don’t know. She never told me. But that day, she was full of hope, insisting we leave together. How could someone like that throw herself into the water to die? That’s impossible. She was the kind of woman who, even if I said let’s die together, would insist there was no point in dying and that she wanted to live.”
“So, you think Jimanil killed Sanwol?”
“Do you think I’m the only one? Everyone was whispering about it at the time, and the authorities hurriedly covered up the case. No matter how much I said it was strange, they wouldn’t listen. That’s why, when you two came earlier, I thought you were from the government.”
“So you were the one who kept raising doubts with the authorities.”
“Yes! One thing is certain: after she died, Jimanil suddenly made a lot of money. They said it wasn’t a big deal, but he must have had her do something dangerous. That might have led to her death. She would have done whatever Jimanil asked perfectly. It’s clear she was just used and then killed.”
Their thoughts mirrored those of the two visitors. That was why they had come here.
But there was no new information beyond what they already suspected.
“It wasn’t a big deal?”
Yeonho asked suddenly, his voice heavy.
“Yes. He said it was a simple matter. It didn’t seem like a lie.”
Yeonho felt a tightness in his chest.
Her mother had been found strangled.
Could anyone call the act of strangling someone to death “no big deal”?
Especially to one’s own master?
Even leaving aside the cruelty, if she had been such a bold woman to treat such a major act lightly, she wouldn’t have been beaten to death by Jimanil.
So was what Sanwol did really “no big deal”? Was it entirely unrelated to her mother’s death?
They had come hoping for answers but seemed destined to leave empty-handed.
“Was there nothing else strange at all?”
Yulbok, sensing the heavy atmosphere, asked hurriedly.
“Well… actually, there was something a bit odd that day.”
“Odd?”
“Yes. That is… that day, I was holding the former military lady’s diary.”
“Why?”
“So I asked her, and she said she wanted to have the cover replaced and asked me to take it to the bookstore. But I found it strange—could someone really leave a diary, of all things, for someone else to handle so casually?”
Yulbok and Yeonho exchanged frowns.
That was indeed strange.
A diary the princess had never shown Yeonho, entrusted to a servant? No, to a bookstore?
It made no sense that the former military lady would recklessly leave her diary where anyone could see it.
As soon as they stepped outside, Yulbok spoke.
“It’s a forged suicide note. They were trying to forge her handwriting.”
“I never knew my mother even had a diary among her belongings.”
“Not a bookstore—it would have been handed to an expert.”
Yeonho nodded.
“What Sanwol did was probably to steal the diary. And that wasn’t all. She said there was a task from Jimanil on the day she brought the diary, so there must have been more to it.”
“I’ll investigate who tried to forge handwriting. I’ll look for anyone who has met Jimanil or Sanwol.”
The circumstances suggested a forged suicide note.
It was becoming clearer that Yeonho’s mother had been murdered.
Jo-Young hadn’t had dinner until late.
“Your Highness, it seems the monarch is very late. Would you like to eat first?”
The attendants had asked the same question several times. Preparing the food was inconvenient for them.
“Yes. Bring it in.”
Jo-Young, who had wanted to wait for him as much as possible, decided to eat alone.
Lately, it had been difficult to see the monarch’s face.
She knew he was busy, but she couldn’t help feeling strangely disappointed.
He had invited her to play, promised a boat ride… she had been excited all day because he had suggested dinner together for the first time in a long while.
It had kept her from being bored while waiting.
But in the end, he didn’t come.
She had a strange thought: was he avoiding her…?
“There aren’t many days left for us to be together…”
It seemed he had given up.
“Understandable. She must be tiring—always preparing to leave for another man.”
Perhaps he, too, was preparing to let her go.
“Alright. I need to really prepare too.”
He had been so kind that she had grown attached to this place.
She had no plan for how to go to Biryongsan, and it seemed there was still no solution.
This wasn’t the time to feel disappointed that the monarch hadn’t come; she needed to think.
Above all, how would she say goodbye to him? That was her biggest concern.
This time, she wanted a proper farewell—not a hastily written letter like before.
She wanted to offer a long, humble explanation… to ask him to understand her even a little.
And to thank him.
To promise that she would someday return to face the consequences.
She had no idea how to organize all that into words.
After finishing her meal, Jo-Young felt empty despite being full.
In the past, when hunger was a daily companion, even tasting such delicious food had been a dream.
After leaving this place, life might be as harsh as in Haga Residence, maybe even worse.
She might even have to stay at an inn on the way to Biryongsan.
Yet she felt emptiness even after such a meal.
“Pull yourself together.”
Jo-Young picked up the embroidery frame she had been holding all day.
Working on it made her feel as if she had returned to the past.
She was reminded of her role—making clothes for her sister and embroidering in her place.
The sky had turned deep black, the moon shining brightly.
Despite hurrying, Yeonho and Yulbok hadn’t returned by dinner.
Yeonho felt a little guilty for leaving the princess alone today.
He had kept her distant, using busyness as an excuse.
Seeing her unsettled his heart.
The more he looked, the more he questioned whether she was truly the princess.
Yet, for some reason, he found himself liking her even more.
If she wasn’t the princess, his situation would be extremely complicated.
He needed to think, but in her presence, he couldn’t think at all.
His mind went blank.
He shouldn’t feel this way. He needed to think logically, not just want to be with her.
That was why he had kept his distance, fearing he would lose his composure if he grew attached.
Until he received a reply from the Crown Prince, he felt he shouldn’t get any closer.
Still, she was a princess, and he couldn’t completely ignore her—so today, he planned to have dinner together at Byeolwongak.
He hadn’t intended to be late; he hadn’t anticipated the delay, and felt apologetic as he hurried toward Byeolwongak.
Fortunately, the lights there were still bright.
“Your Highness, it’s me. May I come in?”
He asked politely, but there was no sound from inside.
The attendants were also not visible—perhaps she had gone on a night walk.
Creeeak.
Yeonho cautiously opened the door.
Byeolwongak.
It was the first time he had entered the room since her mother’s passing.
He stepped inside and froze.
He didn’t remember the exact details of how the room looked when her mother had used it.
But the moment he entered, it didn’t feel unfamiliar at all.
Drawn by the room’s familiar, comforting atmosphere, Yeonho stepped further in.
And yet, contrary to his expectation that no one was there, she was asleep inside.
Not on the bed, but leaning over the table.
Yeonho slowly approached her.
The moment he saw her face resting on her arm, all the complicated thoughts in his mind vanished.
