"The Queen has awakened," a court lady announced, rushing into the King's chamber.
The King immediately rose from his seat. "Lead the way," he commanded.
The King's quarter and the Queen's quarter of Yeonghwi Palace were situated on either side of Myeong'eun-ji, a large pond. In the center of the pond, where the bridge connecting the two quarters met, stood Myeong'eun-jeong, a beautiful and secluded pavilion. It had been a long time since the royal couple had used it. The King, however, chose to bypass the pavilion and headed straight for the Queen's quarter.
As soon as Gahngyun Yeol's urgent message had reached him, the King had shared the news with the Queen. He had promised not to hide anything from her should anything happen to Kyeong'ui. But upon hearing the news, the Queen had collapsed before him, only regaining consciousness after half a day.
As the King approached the Queen's quarter, a court lady called out from the doorway, "Your Majesty, His Majesty requests..."
"Requests what?!" the Queen interrupted sharply.
Before the lady could finish, a crash of shattering porcelain erupted from within, followed by the Queen's furious roar. Inside, another lady tried to soothe her.
"Your Majesty, please..."
"I don't even want to see his face," the Queen spat. "Tell him to get out of here, whether he rots in the royal tomb or not."
The court ladies, embarrassed, bowed their heads. The King, unable to contain his frustration, pushed the door open himself. He was met with the Queen's bloodshot eyes, blazing with fury.
"Get out," she commanded.
The King ignored her and sat down, his voice calm as he began, "Let's talk calmly instead of raging like this. We need to find a way to rescue Mihn."
"How?!" the Queen retorted in despair. "The sea routes will be closed soon. How do you plan to rescue her?"
"Her situation is a matter of national importance," the King said. "The presidents are currently..."
The Queen cut him off with a bitter laugh. "National importance? I told you from the start not to drag our children into this mess. You insisted on playing with fire, blurring the lines between family and nation, and now look what's happened. That reckless child went down there alone only to..."
The Queen choked back a sob, her body swaying.
"Your Majesty!"
Before the ladies could rush to her aid, the King caught her. He turned to the court ladies and ordered, "I will attend to the Queen. Leave us. No one is to enter until I summon you."
When the physician, Baekyang Seoh, and the ladies hesitated, the King raised his voice.
"Now!"
At the King's insistence, everyone left the room, leaving the royal couple alone. The King helped the Queen lie down on the bedding and sat beside her, waiting quietly. The long day drew to a close, and court ladies briefly entered to light the candles before retreating. The King gazed at the Queen's face, pale even in the candlelight, tears silently tracing paths down her cheeks. He reached out and took her hand, his fingers gently stroking her clenched fist.
"If I had known this would happen," the Queen choked out, "I wouldn't have been so cold. I would have held her tighter, cherished her more. She must be missing us so much... My poor baby. My heart feels torn in pieces."
Her voice cracked with emotion.
"You know she's not that kind of girl," the King reassured her. "She's strong. She'll endure and return safely."
"And when she does?" the Queen asked, sitting up. She looked at the King, her eyes filled with anxiety. "Even if she returns alive, those men aligned with Hyang will blame her for the defeat and demand her exile. You know better than anyone that an exiled royal cannot return while they live."
"I was reckless," the King admitted, regretting his decisions. Should I have kept Kyeong'ui from leaving? Or should I have ordered her immediate return to Sunyahng when she revealed her plan about House Myeonghyeon? Every decision he had made, every opportunity he had given her, had only led her closer to danger.
"Even if we can save her," the Queen said firmly, "we cannot bring her back a failure. She must return victorious. That is the only way our child will live."
The King understood her meaning, but he couldn't ignore the danger inherent in her words. "That would put Hyang in jeopardy."
"We have to save her first," the Queen pleaded. "Isn't that enough of a burden for now?"
Her words, prioritizing one child over another, were understandable coming from a mother, but they were unlike the Queen, who had always been a steadfast protector of the Crown Prince. The King, torn between his wife's desperation and his concern for Kyeongshin, felt a wave of self-loathing. He couldn't deny that Kyeong'ui's triumphant return could jeopardize Kyeongshin's position, and a part of him even considered that it might benefit the nation. He had long grown accustomed to the Queen's cold, calculating gaze, but now, in this moment of crisis, it was she who seemed more human. He couldn't bring himself to blame her for prioritizing her daughter.
"When I sent Mihn away," the King said softly, "when her first report arrived, I made you a promise. I'll promise you again. No matter what, I will bring her back. As you said, she will return victorious. She is our daughter, the first royal born in Yeonghwi Palace, a princess of Dahn."
The Queen's shoulders shook with renewed sobs. The King embraced her, offering comfort. Her body felt frail and brittle in his arms, a stark contrast to the last time he had held her. Has she aged so much in the time we have been estranged? Shame and regret washed over him as he held her.
"What if she's already dead?" the Queen sobbed.
"Those rebels aren't foolish enough to kill her," the King reassured her, though doubt gnawed at his heart.
"Do you think she would allow herself to be imprisoned so easily?" the Queen asked. "Can she survive until we arrive?"
"Have faith," the King replied.
The Queen gently pushed him away, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "Faith in who? Who can we have faith in? Who can we pray to? Sahngjon?"
"Have faith in me," the King repeated firmly. "I am the father of your children, and I am your King."
He pulled her close once more and held her throughout the night, remaining by her side instead of returning to his own chambers.
Early in the morning, the King rose from his bed at the sight of the attendants bringing in a tray of rice porridge. Baekyang Seoh was waiting in the courtyard with others, his damp official robes suggesting he had spent the night outside. He bowed to the King.
"Have you rested well, Your Majesty?"
"What are you doing here so early?" the King asked.
Seoh stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Your Majesty, Royal Scholar Song'un Wu from Sahpung sent me a letter."
The King's eyes narrowed. "Let's discuss this inside," he said.
The King returned to his chamber and took his seat. Seoh, after performing his obeisance, sat opposite him. Seoh ordered the other palace attendants to withdraw from the room, but the royal chronicler hesitated.
"A chronicler's brush cannot remain true if the integrity of Throne and Intellect falters. If that crumbles, what then will survive? The fate of the nation hangs in the balance, so withdraw."
"But..."
The royal chronicler, pressed by the threats of the King and Seoh, finally set aside his brush and retreated.
The King asked, "Why did she send it separately instead of including it with Governor Gahngyun's report?"
Seoh, instead of answering, bowed and handed the letter to the King. The King's face contorted in disbelief as he read its contents.
"What is this...?" he demanded.
"I checked the Court Library last night," Seoh explained. "The original memorandum is there. The contents of the letter match."
"But Gahngyun Yeol's report made no mention of the Celestial Scions or Ji'uigeum," the King argued.
"Gahngyun Yeol is a cautious man," Seoh countered. "He wouldn't mention something he didn't witness himself in an official report."
"Who knows about this?"
"Only I have seen it."
"Did anyone see you accessing the memorandum?"
"I was careful."
The letter described the strange events that had occurred during the rebellion and everything about the sphere of Ji'uigeum. Wu hadn't witnessed the events herself, having only heard accounts from the people, but she pleaded for immediate support, especially Iridescent-black Stone, to research the Sphere based on the memorandum, stressing the gravity of the situation.
"Why did Song'un Wu send this to you?" the King asked.
"I am the only one who can ensure this reaches you directly without being intercepted," Seoh explained. "She doesn't have many connections..."
"Not because she believes you will persuade me with any doubt?" the King questioned sharply.
Seoh, though flustered, replied calmly, "Your Majesty, as your loyal subject and a scholar, I must speak my mind. As a man of reason, I do not condone dabbling in the superstitions of a fallen dynasty. But trust your Royal Scholar. The scholars of the Sanctuary of Intellect do not speak lightly. Especially not Song'un Wu. If the contents of the letter are true, there is no other way to quell this rebellion. Considering the potential consequences if the conflict spreads across the sea, Song'un Wu's request for support is not a waste. It is a way to minimize our losses and maximize our gains."
"I, too, am a scholar before I am a King," the King retorted. "This is not merely a matter of the treasury; it challenges the very foundation of our nation."
"That is precisely why Song'un Wu sent me a separate letter."
"Would you suggest convening the council of Scholars at the Sanctuary of Intellect?" Seoh asked.
The King's voice rose in anger. "Don't be absurd."
"I agree," Seoh said. "However, Your Majesty, a swift decision is crucial. We must prepare."
The King lamented, "You're suggesting we stake our nation's fate on a single letter?"
The King pondered the situation. If word got out, it would be tantamount to the court acknowledging the legitimacy of the Azure Scripture and the Celestial Scions, the very people they had massacred and whose beliefs they had sought to eradicate. However, as Seoh had pointed out to the royal chronicler, the authority of the royal court was secondary to the survival of the nation. And it was Kyeong'ui who had authorized Song'un Wu's research and the establishment of a research base in Sahpung. Granting Song'un Wu's request was a way to prevent a potential crisis, but it was also an act of faith in his daughter's judgement, a way to save her.
"Aren't the Iridescent-black Stone mines in Yahngbuk?" the King asked. "Can we procure a sufficient quantity and send it to Sahpung before the monsoon season begins?"
Seoh, as if anticipating the question, replied, "We have more than usual in the Royal Treasury due to the preparations for the royal wedding."
The King let out a humorless chuckle. It was ironic that the Iridescent-black Stone, intended for the royal wedding, would now be used to rescue the bride-to-be, held captive. He composed himself and instructed Seoh, "Dispatch a ship tomorrow morning."
Seoh bowed and left.
The Royal Observatory predicted that the monsoon season would begin in Birahng within five days. The King and his court planned to mobilize troops from Sunyahng and Gyeong'gi within three days, sending them south to join the Sahcheon naval forces under the command of Gahngyun Yeol and launch an attack on Nahmgyo. Some opposed the rushed plan, arguing that if the Observatory's prediction was wrong, the entire fleet could be lost at sea. However, others countered that Gahngyun Yeol, a seasoned naval commander, could assess the situation on the ground. More importantly, the King's determination for a swift offensive remained unshaken. While most court men believed it was solely for the rescue of the princess, the King had another motive: to prevent the rebellion from spreading across the sea.
However, a day before the fleet's scheduled departure, an urgent report arrived in Sunyahng, shaking the King's resolve and disrupting his plans. The report, its contents alarming, was immediately delivered to the King. Sungian forces were rapidly amassing along the northern border, their numbers and firepower steadily increasing even as the report was being written. The King summoned the three Supreme Councilors and the heads of the Seven Boards to the throne room.
"What in the hell is going on?" he demanded.