“Reviewing the name cards and narrowing down the initial candidates is something I or others can assist with. However, the final decision to officially bring the selected Yin to the palace is yours alone. So for now, it would be best to focus on preparing for the selection process.”

“……”

“This is a matter that has been postponed for quite some time, so it may feel a bit rushed… But leaving the concubine position vacant for too long doesn’t look good either. We would be very grateful if Your Majesty could understand this with your generous heart.”

“Yes.”

His tone wasn’t particularly sharp, but Yeocheong found herself frowning slightly because she thought he sounded pleased somehow.

Fortunately, Seonghyeon didn’t notice the fleeting change in her expression.

“It hasn’t been long since the continent was unified, and many regions still lack strong cohesion. That is why we are truly grateful for Your Majesty’s understanding.”

“Understanding?”

Yeocheong echoed the word before she realized it, almost involuntarily.
‘Was it possible that if I had said I didn’t want to, the selection might not have gone forward at all?’

“Yes?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. It’s something that has to be done. We can’t put it off forever.”

“There’s been a lot of talk about His Majesty putting off the concubine selection for so long. It’s a relief that the ministers have no more reason to find fault. It’s all thanks to His Majesty.”

‘…I’ve heard the former Chief Steward was a kind man.’

Seonghyeon was similar to Jeong Han in some ways – but also very different.

While their roles and methods were similar, their temperaments were not.

He was someone who maintained proper decorum, but made sure to remind them firmly of reality.

Blunt at times and strangely difficult to argue with, his words left little room for objection.

‘He’s praising me now, but… he’s also subtly emphasizing how much they struggled while I was unconscious.’

“…It’s something that should have been done a long time ago, so in truth it’s much too late.”

Yeocheong forced a smile, doing her best not to show how she really felt.

After explaining the procedures and schedule for the concubine selection – when the Yin who had submitted their name cards would begin to enter the palace – Seonghyeon checked the time and spoke.

“It’s so late. I must apologise for taking up so much of Your Majesty’s time.”

“Not at all. You must have many responsibilities, but I’m the one who feels sorry for bothering you.”

“It is my duty, how could I ever consider it a nuisance? Please don’t hesitate to call on me at any time.”

Seonghyeon bowed politely and left the palace.

Yeocheong stared at the bundle of papers he had left behind, then fled to her chambers without even bothering to organise them.

“…Why does it have to be me…”

The words slipped from her mouth before she realised.

She hated the thought of other people standing by Jihyuk’s side – hated the idea that some of them might share a night with him, might even bear his children – and that she would be the one to personally summon them to the palace.

But it was far too late to say she didn’t want to.

And she still wasn’t ready to face Jihyuk.

A wave of remorse washed over her.

‘I should’ve said something then—that I didn’t want this—instead of trying to play it off and saying I’d do it.’

Would it have been better if the Dowager Empress had lived to make the choice in her place?

Choosing the women who would fill the palace as concubines with her own hands seemed far too cruel.

And yet she wasn’t the type to go to Jihyuk and throw a tantrum about it.

So all Yeocheong could do was suffer in silence, alone.

Jihyuk’s days weren’t peaceful either.

Ever since Yeocheong had turned away and said she was going to prepare for the concubine selection, Jihyuk had been unable to get over that moment – and the rest of his day had fallen apart.

‘If she could just stay… or at the very least, not suffer because of me, I thought I wouldn’t ask for more.’

But seeing Yeocheong accept the idea of taking concubines so easily left him feeling deeply unsettled.

He had believed that they were gradually becoming more comfortable with each other, spending time with Hee and reconnecting – but had they really only just become… comfortable?

His mood was in tatters, to the point where his earlier resolve not to be greedy now seemed meaningless.

The saying that there was no end to human greed had never seemed truer.

He was the one who had brought it up – yet deep down he had hoped she would refuse.

‘If she had shown the slightest reluctance, I could have used it as an excuse… but now I can’t take it back.’

As soon as his conversation with Yeocheong was over, Seonghyeon – who happened to be visiting Jihyuk at the right time – took it as a good sign and quickly moved the process forward.

And now it really couldn’t be undone.

Even if someone was brought into the palace as a concubine, she would be meaningless to Jihyuk.

But he had hoped it wouldn’t be the same for Yeocheong.

‘I thought I was being considerate… but in the end I’m still a fool.Yeon Jihyuk.’

He had been worried that Yeocheong would be upset – but seeing how unaffected she seemed left him with a hollow feeling.

Had he hoped that she would be jealous?

“If Yeocheong isn’t hurt, then that’s all that matters. That’s… enough…”

He tried to convince himself that her indifference meant she trusted him enough not to be shaken by the idea of concubines – but even that didn’t bring him any comfort.

Two days had passed since their daily meetings had stopped.

But neither Jihyuk nor Yeocheong made any effort to see the other.

In their current state, they couldn’t predict what they would say – or how they would react – if they had to face each other now.

“But Father said we would go boating together, and he hasn’t even come to visit the palace.”

Only Hee, unaware of what was going on, sulked and behaved as usual, expressing his disappointment.

Before the concubine issue came up, Jihyuk had promised Hee that they would go boating on the lake at Wolhwa Palace.

But days had passed without any mention of it, and Jihyuk hadn’t come to see him.

Full of complaints, Hee pursed his lips and expressed his hurt feelings to Yeocheong.

“He must be busy. His Majesty has many affairs of state to attend to.”

“But he’s never broken a promise to me before. It was supposed to be the first time we went boating together… I was really looking forward to it…”

Hee spoke with slumped shoulders.

And he was right – it had been the first time that Jihyuk had promised to go boating with Hee. It had been a kind of progress.

Jihyuk had lived for years without even looking at the lake in Wolhwa Palace. For someone who hated that lake more than anyone else, it must have taken a lot of effort to make such an offer to Hee.

Hee hadn’t even known that there was a lake within the palace grounds, so it wasn’t hard to imagine how excited the child must have been.

Yeocheong spoke, her expression troubled.

“I can go with mother instead.”

“But… I heard that the lake at Wolhwa Palace is big enough to take a boat with many people. We’ve never been boating together, so… I was really looking forward to it…”

Seeing Hee’s downcast face made Yeocheong’s chest hurt.

She had wanted to give Hee the happy family she had once longed for as a child – but to see him so disappointed made her feel uneasy.

It was obvious why Jihyuk couldn’t keep his promise.

It was probably the same reason why Yeocheong couldn’t face him.

Gently comforting Hee, Yeocheong spoke.

“He’s just busy at the moment. I’m sure he’ll be back soon to keep his promise.”

“Do you think so? If I wait a little longer, he’ll come?”

“Of course he will.”

Yeocheong forced a smile and gently changed the subject.

Yes – she couldn’t avoid it forever. It was time for her to meet Jihyuk again.

“I’ll ask His Majesty when he might have time, so don’t worry and go to your tutor now.”

Yeocheong promised to speak to Jihyuk herself and sent Hee on her way.

On any other day, the sight of Hee walking happily away would have lifted her spirits.

But today it brought no such relief.

“…Send a lady of the court to Taerok Palace. Ask when His Majesty might be available for a visit – today, or any time that suits him.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After giving instructions to the court lady, Yeocheong walked alone through the garden.

‘What should I say first?’

If she couldn’t solve this problem before the boat trip, Hee – who was quick to notice such things – would surely end up worrying.

“…Haah.”

She had taken the initiative to arrange a meeting because she did not want that to happen.

But her thoughts were in such a mess that it was almost ridiculous to worry about someone else.

With a deep sigh, Yeocheong sat down where she had been standing.

“Is something troubling you, Your Majesty?”

“No. It’s just… the weather is nice.”

“Ah, then shall I bring you something to sit on?”

“No need. I won’t be here long.”

If only the weather had been cloudy, she might have had an excuse to postpone the boat trip.

But the sky, as if mocking her, was dazzlingly clear, not a cloud in sight.

It was as if even the sky wasn’t on their side.

Yeocheong sat there for a while, looking up at the mercilessly blue sky as if it were taunting her – declaring that it wouldn’t rain tomorrow either.

“Your Majesty.”

How much time had passed? Finally, the lady of the court whom Yeocheong had sent to Taerok Palace returned and approached her. Only then did Yeocheong brush off her skirt and stand up.

“So, what did they say about when I can visit?”

“The head court lady at Taerok Palace said that His Majesty should have some time after Shinshi (3-5 pm). Since His Majesty is currently away from the palace, they said he would give a definite answer when he returns.”

“I see. Then we should return to the palace as well.

There was only about an hour left until Shinshi.

It wasn’t nearly enough time to prepare her heart – but even with more time, she doubted her feelings would settle any easier.

“It would be nice if Hee could sail the boat tomorrow as he wishes.”

Yeocheong murmured quietly before turning back to the empress’s quarters.

But unaware of what it was she truly, desperately wished for, Yeocheong walked slowly – her steps heavy with unspoken weight.