“What did you think we were talking about?”

“The royal doctor… suggested that I stop taking the suppressant, saying that continuing to delay my menstrual cycle could have negative effects on my health.”

Yeocheong replied hesitantly.

So they were talking about completely different things.

‘A concubine?’

It was such an unexpected subject that the tension she had been feeling this whole time now felt strangely hollow.

‘Well, that’s what it means to be an emperor.’

Even a king of some nameless, minor nation couldn’t ignore the issue of succession.

And now, Jihyuk sat on the highest throne of all.

‘It’s true I can’t resolve everything alone, so taking in a concubine is the logical choice…’

Still, for some reason, Yeocheong couldn’t help but feel a little discouraged.

She lowered her eyes, unable to continue.

“That’s also something that can’t be put off forever. After all, there’s no simpler bond than marriage.”

Without meaning to, a slightly sarcastic tone crept into her voice.

Maybe it was because she and Jihyuk hadn’t come together out of love.

‘Why am I like this? I was the one who said I preferred peace over love.’

She still had feelings for Jihyuk. It was a truth she had tried to deny, but in the end it was too clear to deny.

And yet, ever since she had decided to stay here, Yeocheong had felt more and more distant from the emotion of love.

After acknowledging her feelings, life had become so peaceful that the days of being swayed by emotions felt like a distant past.

She had thought – with such calm emotions, I’ll be fine. That she had finally found the peace she so longed for.

But now, from an unexpected direction, she could hear that peace beginning to crack.

“Is that why you came to see me?”

Even without hearing his answer, the confused look on Jihyuk’s face was more than enough of an answer.

‘So I was the only one thinking about the heat cycle.’

Yeocheong let out a small sigh, a feeling of emptiness creeping up on her before she could stop it.

“……”

Jihyuk opened his mouth as if to say something – but no words came out. He simply didn’t know what to say.

The conversation had taken such an unexpected turn that they were both stunned by the situation.

“It’s my duty, so I’ll do it. If you give me the criteria, I’ll collect the lists of candidates and decide which of them are suitable to be brought to the palace.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

“What wouldn’t be okay?”

Yeocheong tried her best to keep a composed expression on her face, but she felt that if she let her guard down for even a moment, it would fall – so she turned her head as she spoke.

“It looks like I’m going to be busy. I should familiarise myself with the procedures for selecting concubines, so I’ll take my leave for today.”

Instead of continuing the conversation, Yeocheong decided to leave.

She didn’t know what to say anymore – and most of all, she needed time to think.

Jihyuk couldn’t bring himself to stop her as she hurried out. He just stood there and stared at the room she had left for a long time.

“…A concubine…”

In her past life as well as in this one, Yeocheong had been Jihyuk’s only wife.

It was because of the war, but she had never seen another woman at his side.

There had been a time when he had imagined what that would be like – but even that felt like a distant memory now.

Yeocheong paced the room, gently biting her neatly manicured nails.

‘There’s nothing strange about it. I know that… so why does it feel like this…’

“Your Majesty?”
“Huh?”

Startled by the court lady’s voice, Yeocheong quickly pulled her hand away from her mouth.

Before she noticed, the sun had set and the sky outside had gone dark.

“I brought the books you asked for. The Chief Steward also said to call on him at any time if you have any questions.”

In the palace, there was no higher-ranking Yin than Yeocheong, and no elderly court lady to whom she could defer.

Therefore, all matters concerning the concubines were under her sole authority.

In order to continue collecting the name cards and begin the selection process, she first had to study everything related to it.

“All right, leave it there and you may go.”

“It’s almost time for His Highness the Crown Prince’s visit – should I prepare refreshments in advance?”

“No, I have a lot to do today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to see him.”

The lady of the court was a little surprised – there hadn’t been a single day when they had missed a meeting – but she didn’t let it show and bowed her head politely.

Yeocheong, who had instructed that she would receive no visitors today and would have lunch with the Crown Prince tomorrow instead, opened the book the lady of the court had brought.

“The Chief Steward asked when would be a good time to visit. He said he’d be at Your Majesty’s disposal…”

“Tomorrow afternoon, during the Crown Prince’s lessons, would be best.”

“Yes, I will inform him accordingly.”

“You may go now. I don’t think I need anything else for today.”

“Yes. Please call if you need anything.”

After dismissing the court lady, Yeocheong sat down at the table and leafed through the book.

But the words didn’t quite register.

“…Haah.”

Why did she feel so insecure?

Yeocheong sighed as she read through the procedures for selecting concubines.

She had intended to talk about her upcoming heat cycle, but in the end she hadn’t brought it up at all – instead she had returned with nothing but unnecessary worries.

“…Concubines… huh.”

Whether she accepted them or not, it was a presence that could never bring peace.

She understood that a marriage carried out in the name of the nation was never just a simple union—but knowing that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

‘It’s not just about strengthening ties between nations. There are surely those who desire children as well.’

When it came to heirs, the more candidates there were, the better.

Yeocheong wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but the ministers certainly thought that way.

Even though Hee existed, no one could predict what the future would bring.

‘They must think it’s unlikely that I can bear another child—that’s probably why all the more.’

She had been unconscious for years, and even when she awoke, her condition was so poor that rumours had spread throughout the palace that the royal physician was practically living in the empress’s quarters. Although she had only recently begun to recover, she was still in a condition that required caution.

Yeocheong held her throbbing head, lost in thought.

‘Even if I had been healthy… eventually, concubines would have had to be brought in anyway…’

She remembered what had happened on her last visit to Hwayang.

In conversation with the Fifth Consort, the woman had said that it was a relief that Yeocheong could finally have the harmonious family she had longed for as a child.

‘You always had a dream of a happy family, even as a child. I’m glad that now, at least, you get to live that kind of life.’

When she heard those words, Yeocheong found herself recalling her childhood for the first time in a long while—kind parents, affectionate siblings. There had been a time when she truly wished for a family like that.

‘I wanted to give Hee that kind of family. Once the heat cycle comes… surely, again…’

Jihyuk was a strong yang and she was a yin. If their menstrual cycles coincided and they consummated, there was a good chance that she would become pregnant again.

Jihyuk might not be happy about it, but Yeocheong had quietly imagined such a future before.

‘He’s someone who worries too much about my health… He might take measures to prevent pregnancy, afraid that I’ll fall ill again if I carry another child. I wanted to tell him it would be all right…’

But everything had fallen apart—because her thoughts had been entirely consumed by those two words: ‘concubine.’

Unable to focus on the book before her, Yeocheong closed it and lay down early for the night.

‘…His Majesty must have brought it up because he believed it was necessary. Yes. I know. I understand that…’

She didn’t want to admit it, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt.

Even though she was the one who had agreed without much discussion, knowing that it was inevitable, she still felt upset.

Surely women more beautiful than she, from more distinguished families, would enter the palace.

Among them, there might be those born of noble bloodlines, or even those with the rare trait of extreme Yin.

‘Not someone frustrating and frail like me… but truly exceptional women…’

Yeocheong curled up under the blankets, hiding her body as if to shield herself.

For some reason, a wave of sadness washed over her.

Right now, Jihyuk might be the one who cherished her the most – but once upon a time, the palace was filled with dazzling flowers and soft, graceful women who could enchant with their sweet voices… Wasn’t it possible that even his heart could change?

‘…What should I do? I don’t want that…’

Yeocheong couldn’t have cared less about her title as empress or her status.

What really upset her was the thought of Jihyuk spending time with another Yin by his side. The mere thought of it was enough to sour her mood.

Lost in this unfamiliar feeling, Yeocheong didn’t know what to do with herself – and ended up staying up all night.

If she wasn’t going to sleep, she thought she might as well do something, so she tried to study the procedures for selecting concubines.

But little of it stuck in her mind.

“Mother, are you tired?”

“Ah-no.”

At lunch the next day, Yeocheong inadvertently nodded off and ended up frantically reassuring Hee, who looked worried.

But there was more to come.

Even after Hee was sent off, another ordeal awaited her.

“Orders have been given to send the candidate application letters to every nation and household with eligible Yin. You should receive all the name cards within two weeks at the latest.”

Seonghyeon, the new chief steward who had replaced Jeong Han, visited the empress’s quarters with piles of neatly organised documents relating to the concubine selection.

Yeocheong couldn’t help but feel a deep resentment as she looked at the thick pile of papers in his hands.