<I’m glad to hear you’ve arrived safely. Life in a new place won’t be easy, but since you were a child who never caused much trouble, I’m not too worried.>

The letter began with words befitting the Fifth Empress Consort. At first glance, they seemed composed, but the tone of concern and affection made it seem as if she was still at Yeocheong’s side, warm and reassuring.

<I would have liked you to stay by my side a little longer, but given the current uneasy atmosphere in the palace, it’s almost a relief that you’ve left…>

However, Yeocheong’s eyebrows immediately furrowed at the next sentence. An uneasy atmosphere in the palace?

<Rumors of an impending war have reached my ears, and it feels as though it wouldn’t be surprising if something were to happen soon.>

War? In his past life, the letters Yeocheong received around this time contained nothing of the sort.

No matter how sheltered Yeocheong lived, like a flower in a greenhouse, it was impossible not to know if a war had broken out on the continent. However, until Yeocheong was confined to Wolha Palace, there had been no mention of war.

<The impact is unlikely to reach the Imperial Palace, but the atmosphere inside is like walking on thin ice, which makes me a little uneasy. At least it’s a relief to be in a different place.>

Yeocheong hadn’t expected everything to be the same as in the past. His actions had changed, so it was inevitable that the future would change as well. He understood that even the smallest change could have monumental consequences, but this was far beyond anything Yeocheong could have anticipated.

<After the war that wiped my nation off the map, I vowed never to hear the word ‘war’ again in my lifetime. I can only hope that the situation will resolve itself quickly. Still, hearing that you are well gives me some peace of mind.>

The Fifth Empress Consort’s letter continued for quite some time, filled mostly with words of concern for Yeocheong. There was only the briefest mention of her own well-being.

“Why…?”

By the time he finished reading the letter, Yeocheong’s face had grown visibly pale. A war? Why had the future changed so drastically?

He wanted to rush out to find out what had happened, but it seemed unlikely that others would have a clearer understanding of the situation than he did, having only just learned of it from the Fifth Empress Consort’s letter.

“Your Highness? Was there any disturbing news in the letter?”

Yeocheong stood frozen, clutching the letter in his hand for quite some time.
Seon, who had just returned to the room, was startled upon seeing Yeocheong’s expression and checked on his condition.

“Has something happened to Her Highness, the Fifth Empress Consort?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… there was something in the letter that caught me off guard.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse, as Yeocheong was to share chambers that very evening, further limiting his options. He held his throbbing head and spoke.

“The atmosphere in the Imperial Palace seems less than ideal.”

While there was some concern for the safety of the Fifth Empress Consort, Yeocheong didn’t think the Song Empire would fall in any foreseeable war, barring a sudden ambush. There was a reason why the Song Empire was the only nation on the continent called an empire.

If the atmosphere in the palace had become tense enough for the Fifth Empress Consort to notice, it probably meant that preparations for war were already underway and could be launched at any moment. At least Yeocheong could rest assured that things would remain stable for the time being.

“They say a war might break out….”

“Who would dare to rebel against the Song Empire? Hah, truly absurd. Don’t worry too much, Your Highness. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Seon scoffed, her tone full of confidence. But Yeocheong couldn’t share her nonchalance for two reasons.

Firstly, he had already seen a future where the once mighty Song Empire crumbled under the hooves of a foreign army. More than anyone else, he knew that there was no such thing as an eternally invincible nation.

Second, and even more disturbing, was the realisation that the future was changing drastically, spinning out of control.

‘As it is, my knowledge of the future is already so limited, and now even that is being altered so drastically….’

He couldn’t begin to predict what might happen next. A wave of anxiety washed over him as he absentmindedly put a nail to his mouth and began to chew on it.

“Your Highness, it’s likely that your nerves are heightened by tonight’s important event.”

Seon said gently, trying to calm him down.

“If something really terrible were to happen, the Fifth Empress Consort wouldn’t have been able to send a reply. And if the palace were really in chaos, her letter wouldn’t have been processed and delivered so quickly.

“Perhaps. But… couldn’t the situation change for the worse in an instant?”

Yeocheong replied, his voice heavy with worry.

“You are simply feeling unwell, Your Highness, causing your thoughts to become pessimistic. A warm bath will relax your body and such thoughts will disappear in no time.”

Seon said reassuringly as she began to attend to him.

Her words made sense. If the palace were truly in chaos, a letter from the Fifth Empress Consort would have been considered the lowest of priorities and would have taken much longer to arrive.

‘But I can’t just sit idly by and watch.’

Yeocheong thought to himself, biting his lip lightly. However, with only a few hours left before the scheduled consummation, there was no choice but to set his worries aside for now.

***

“Your Highness, how about a light touch of rouge?”

“Shall we tie your hair up a bit, or would it be better to only gather half of it?”

Time seemed to pass quickly, driven by Yeocheong’s restless heart, and before he knew it, he was sitting in front of a mirror, captured by the meticulous hands of the court attendants.

He didn’t understand the importance of perfectly styled hair and tied clothes that would soon be undone, yet he sat passively, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror as the attendants worked.

Compared to the days when he was painfully emaciated, his appearance had indeed improved. Though still slender, he had gained enough weight to appear healthy, and his once brittle, lifeless hair now shone with vitality thanks to careful treatment.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.”

One of the attendants said admiringly.

But Yeocheong did not like what he saw. His face, reflected in the mirror, still looked sombre and lifeless.

“The Crown Prince will surely fall in love with you again, Your Highness.”

“That’s right, Your Highness. You’re just like the Moon Palace Fairy.”

But their flattery did little to lift his spirits. For Yeocheong, this was simply a duty he had to fulfil – a scheduled obligation, nothing more.

“His Highness has left for Yeon Palace.”

“Is everything ready in the bedchamber?”

“Yes, we just need to light the candles.”

“Your Highness, please go to the bedchamber.”

Yeocheong wasn’t afraid. He simply viewed it as a duty, something he could leave to instinct while letting himself drift. If he were lucky, perhaps the intrusive thoughts that had occupied his mind since reading the letter would temporarily fade.

With that thought, Yeocheong stepped into the bedchamber. He couldn’t help but let out a faint, ironic chuckle at the sight of the room, which had clearly been meticulously prepared, unlike the night of his first consummation.

‘The lights will go out anyway. What’s the point?’

He sat quietly on the bed and closed his eyes. Memories of waiting on this very bed flooded his mind – those moments when he had wished desperately for a child to come into their lives this time.

Ironically, the time when he had wished so desperately for a child, unaware that such happiness would never be his, was far happier than the present. The thought struck him as darkly amusing.

‘This time, I won’t wish for something that isn’t mine. That way, even if I fail, I won’t be hurt.’

How much time had passed? The sound of footsteps, much heavier than those of the palace guards, began to echo down the corridor.

Moments later, the footsteps stopped in front of the bedroom. After a short pause, the door opened and, as Yeocheong had expected, Jihyuk was standing there.

“Good evening, wife.”

In contrast to Yeocheong’s reserved demeanour, Jihyuk’s face was full of life. His slightly flushed cheeks, as if he had been eagerly anticipating this moment, gave him a boyish charm.

He looked like a child excited to finally experience a long-awaited, special day.

“I greet the Crown Prince.”

Yeocheong said softly, bowing his head in recognition.

But Yeocheong decided to remember this night as nothing special. Just another night when the moon rose and the stars appeared – nothing more, nothing less.

Only by framing it that way could he let the night pass without it leaving a mark on his heart.

“Your hair… is partly up, I see.”

The court attendants had spent a long time tying and untying Yeocheong’s hair before finally deciding to add a decorative ornament to half of it. Yeocheong had thought it unnecessary – after all, the style wouldn’t last long once the consummation began. But to his surprise, Jihyuk immediately noticed the subtle change.

“Does it look strange? If so, I can…”

“No, not at all, it’s just… I was a bit surprised because I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Even Yeocheong himself found the style a little awkward. Although he had tied or pinned his hair many times in the past, this particular in-between style – neither all the way up nor all the way down – was a first for him.

Yeocheong awkwardly touched the ornament that held his hair in place, feeling more uncomfortable than if it had simply been tied back or left loose. Although he would soon undo it anyway, he couldn’t stop thinking about it now that he was aware of it.

Adding to his discomfort was Jihyuk, who couldn’t take his eyes off Yeocheong’s hair, as if it were something extraordinary.

“Do you like this hairstyle?”

Yeocheong asked, a hint of dry humour in his tone.

“It doesn’t matter. A hairstyle is meaningless. It’s all the same – it’s you, after all.”

“But still…”

His words said otherwise, but his gaze lingered far too long to suggest indifference. After what seemed like an eternity of studying Yeocheong, Jihyuk finally lowered his head and spoke.