‘Shouldn’t I have said that? I didn’t come here to argue or place blame, so why did I bring up something we were just starting to put behind us?’

Yeocheong silently regretted her sharp words and glanced sideways to gauge Jihyuk’s reaction.

He looked strangely distracted, staring across the surface of the water, and something about his expression made her uneasy.

“Your Majesty.”

“…?”

Forced by a vague feeling of unease, Yeocheong approached Jihyuk and spoke to him.

Jerked out of his daze, Jihyuk turned to look at her, his gaze snapping away from the rippling water.

She had called him – but now that she had, she didn’t know what to say.

Yeocheong hesitated, unable to continue.

Fortunately, Hee’s cheerful voice broke the silence.

“There are no fish here! Hwayang’s lake had many big fish.”

Yeocheong moved to sit beside Hee and offered an explanation.

“Hwayang’s lake was naturally formed, but the lake at Wolha is man-made, so that’s probably why. If you’d like to breed Koi, we could put some in the water.”

“So we have to bring other fish here?”

“Yes. Since the lake is enclosed on all sides, there’s no way for aquatic creatures to enter naturally.”

“Then it’s okay not to have any.”
Hee replied cheerfully.

She had seemed to enjoy boating and watching the koi at Hwayang – was she refusing because she thought it would be difficult?

Yeocheong spoke again.

“It’s not difficult. They’re easy to look after. If we raised them here, the Crown Prince could even feed and care for them himself.”

“But we can’t really ask the fish what they want. Don’t you think they would be happier with their families, in the place they are used to?”

Hee said as she lightly splashed the water.

Caught off guard by the unexpected answer, Yeocheong blinked – then reached out and gently patted Hee on the head.

“You’re right. I didn’t think it through.”

“I like being with you and Father, so I’m sure the fish feel the same way. But you can’t really ask a fish which other fish are its family, can you?”

Yeocheong didn’t think koi had that level of intelligence – but she didn’t want to correct Hee’s kind and thoughtful heart.

Instead, she pulled the child onto her lap and asked quietly.

“Do you like being with your family, Crown Prince?”

“Yes. I like it very much. I don’t ever want to go back to the way things were.”

Hee cuddled into Yeocheong’s arms as he spoke. His tone was light, but when he said that he didn’t want to go back to the past, Yeocheong felt as if her heart dropped for a moment.

“Was it hard when your mother was unconscious?”

“It wasn’t difficult then… but if we had to go back to the way it was, I think this time I would be really sad. Because now I know how lucky I am to be with you and dad.”

He sounded as if he was speaking casually, but for Yeocheong it wasn’t something she could take lightly.

She didn’t want to return to the past either.

‘To think I made such a small child feel that way…’

There had never been a moment when she regretted it more – trying to give up while there were still people who cared for her.

Yeocheong pulled the child into a gentle embrace and said.

“Mother feels the same. I’ll never go back to the past.

She wanted to protect herself – and the everyday life Hee had come to know. She had already learned what could happen if she said nothing and buried her thoughts.”

“So I’ll have to try.”

“Is something wrong?”

Hee murmured, his face still buried in Yeocheong’s arms.

Although he had pretended not to notice, he seemed to have picked up on the subtle tension between Jihyuk and Yeocheong.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just had a few things on my mind.”

“Do you still?”

“…Just until today. I promise.”

Only then did Hee lift his head from her embrace and meet Yeocheong’s eyes with a soft smile.

‘Neither His Majesty nor I have completely let go of the past. And maybe… that means we still look at each other with the same feelings.’

“Crown Prince, have you ever thought of making the family bigger?”

“I don’t need a younger sibling to kick you in the stomach.”

‘So he was still holding on to that, huh?’

Yeocheong laughed quietly.

“They don’t kick – it’s just their way of saying ‘I’m here’. Like this.”

Yeocheong gently tickled Hee and the child burst into giggles.

Watching him laugh, Yeocheong asked again.

“What if many people came to the palace and made it lively? What if you had younger siblings – not necessarily born of me – what would you think of that?”

“Hmm…”

Hee lost himself in thought for a moment.

At the other end of the boat, Jihyuk sat quietly, but he seemed curious about the warm conversation the two were having.

“Tell me quietly—just to me.”

Yeocheong lowered her voice, feeling Jihyuk’s gaze, even though he probably couldn’t hear her unless she spoke loudly.

Having finished his thoughts, Hee leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“No. Because then I’d have less time to spend with father.”

It was an honest, childish answer.

And somehow this simple answer felt like the answer Yeocheong had been looking for, and it eased the tightness in her chest.

“You’re right.”

She had felt that the clear sky was mocking her confusion, but now the bright weather suddenly lifted her spirits.

When this boat returned to shore, she would have many things to say.

But until then, she just wanted to enjoy this moment of peace.

***

Unlike Yeocheong, who had come to her own quiet decision and felt lighter for it, Jihyuk had no fond memories of the boat ride on Wolha.

He thought he’d be fine, but being on the lake again was much more unbearable than he’d expected.

“Even I got on the boat without hesitation—what reason do you have to avoid it, Your Majesty?”

The moment Yeocheong said those words, Jihyuk felt like he’d been hit on the head.

Even though he managed to get on the boat, he didn’t feel well the whole time they were floating on the lake.

Yeocheong, as if yesterday’s conversation meant nothing, focused only on Hee.

It was as if she was silently saying that Hee was the only link between them now – that any feelings that might have remained were nothing more than a sense of duty.

And that thought made Jihyuk’s stomach turn.

‘Was it just my misunderstanding…?’

Yesterday, when they discussed the selection of concubines, he thought he saw a momentary hesitation in her expression.

But now, with how firmly she drew the line between them, it felt like that too had been nothing more than a misreading on his part.

Far from clearing his mind, the boat ride left Jihyuk more troubled than before.

“…Forget it. In the end…”

That much was true.

His chest still hurt a little, but he thought he would get used to it, little by little.

He was afraid – afraid that if he dared to try anything, to reach out again, it would only lead to another painful result. That he’d just be knocked down again, as if to finish him off.

It was easier to accept reality than to risk that.

Jihyuk turned his attention to the progress of the concubine selection.

‘Now that Yeon’s territory has expanded, it will take at least half a month for all the name cards to arrive. For noble families with daughters born to second wives, it’s as if they’ve been waiting for this – the name cards have arrived immediately. It is as if they had prepared them in advance.’

The documents he’d received from Seonghyeon, along with the information on several selected candidates, were spread out on the desk.

Jihyuk absentmindedly skimmed through them—until his hand came to a stop on one name.

‘Ryu Sohyeon.’

In his previous life – and even in this one – had he not married Yeocheong, or had she left him, Sohyeon would probably have become Empress.

She was the daughter of Chancellor Ryu, head of the largest political faction in the Empire, and was known for both her beauty and her intelligence.

If he were to take a concubine, she would probably be the most suitable choice.

Thinking about it, Jihyuk lightly tapped the page with his finger.

Of course, Chancellor Ryu would do everything in his power to force Sohyeon into the palace, but even without that, she was someone worth having.

‘Perhaps it could even turn into a favorable political arrangement.’
As he thought this, a faint presence stirred outside the door.

Looking up, he saw the silhouette of a guard standing just behind the door.

Having also seen Jihyuk pause, the attendant spoke.

“Her Majesty the Empress has come to see you.”

Usually she would send a message before coming – was there something urgent?

Without hesitation, Jihyuk told them to let Yeocheong in.

“Forgive me for coming without warning. But… I felt that if I didn’t speak now, it might be difficult to bring it up again.”

There was a faint smell of alcohol in the air.

Yeocheong wasn’t someone who liked to drink, which made Jihyuk worry even more. He stepped closer to her.

“What made you drink something you don’t even like?”

“…Is it that obvious?”

She had only taken a small amount, just enough to give her the courage to say what she needed to say – because she didn’t feel brave enough to do it sober. A little embarrassed, Yeocheong fidgeted with her fingers.

“A little.”

“I didn’t drink enough to get drunk. It’s just… I felt like I had to. I’m not here to make a scene, so don’t worry.”

‘Was the smell that bad?’

After saying that, Yeocheong looked away in embarrassment.

But as her eyes wandered, they landed on something on Jihyuk’s desk – and her eyebrows furrowed.