Woo-hye burst into cheerful laughter at his expression but stopped short the moment she felt San-gyeong’s gaze on her.

‘Why is he so wary of the Second Prince, of all people?’

She quickly composed herself, smoothing her features into a calm and dignified expression as she addressed the Second Prince.

“I had my reasons for acting as I did, Your Highness. I chose a rather drastic method to ease His Majesty’s burden, as he has been troubled over the matter of the Crown Prince’s investiture.”

“You mean to say,” the Second Prince asked slowly, “that revealing my identity to the people as the one who distributed grain in secret was in truth my father’s will?”

“The method was of my devising, but it is indeed His Majesty’s wish that Your Highness be named Crown Prince.”

Only then did the Second Prince understand why the woman destined to be Ye’s consort had chosen to help him.

“So that was it… It was Father’s will.”

Woo-hye went on to tell him what must come next.

“Now, Your Highness must expose the crimes of the Third Prince and root out every last trace of his faction.”

As long as the Third Prince’s supporters remained in court, they would obstruct the Crown Prince at every turn. To Woo-hye, the only wise course was to cut them down completely.

The Second Prince, who until then had shown restraint, realized that if he were to ascend the throne, he must do exactly as she advised. Nothing was more foolish in the struggle for power than to grant misplaced mercy.

His expression hardened into cold resolve.

“So be it.”

Only days later, the Second Prince exposed every crime committed by the Third Prince.

The Emperor, enraged, stripped the Third Prince of his title and decreed he would never again set foot within the court. Those who had helped him were punished as well—dismissed from office or banished, according to the weight of their crimes.

From that day forward, no faction remained strong enough to oppose the Second Prince. By following Woo-hye’s counsel, he had acted with clarity and merciless precision, securing the Emperor’s steadfast trust.

Finally, the Emperor issued his decree: the Second Prince, who had secured his legitimacy so quickly, would henceforth be the Crown Prince.

Thus ended the long contest for the heir’s seat, and a new era began.

Unlike in Doha, Mokcheon now kept his beard clean-shaven and his hair simply bound with a jade crown. As the personal physician serving the Lady of Yeongan, it was only fitting that he present a dignified appearance.

At first, some sought to fault Woo-hye for keeping a man within her household as her private doctor, no matter how skilled he was. But when word spread that Mokcheon had been like her foster father—raising her in Doha, feeding her, and treating her until her sight returned—the criticism fell silent.

Soon, Mokcheon rose to the rank of a divine healer, famed for curing every illness without fail. In recent days, his renown in Akyang had even begun to surpass Woo-hye’s.

“Your health shows no abnormalities. However, you have overexerted yourself lately. Until the wedding, you should refrain from going out and take proper rest.”

As always, the divine Mokcheon could focus on nothing but Woo-hye’s condition, with a persistence bordering on obsession.

“Yes, Divine Mok.”

He sighed faintly at her playful address.

“Please, not that strange title. Call me as you usually do.”

“But I like calling you Divine. Everyone now knows how important you are to me, and how remarkable you are.”

A jewel will shine in the end, no matter how long it is hidden.

At that moment, Hyang-eum appeared, carrying a tray.

“My lady, Physician Mok! I’ve brought refreshments. You both ate too little earlier—please have some.”

The three of them sat together and shared the tea and sweets.

Hyang-eum, moved by the peace of this moment, spoke with a deeply touched expression.

“These days, I have no regrets left.”

Was this not the long-dreamed return in glory? When they had left, it was in misery, yet now Woo-hye had become more honored than anyone in the capital. The sight made her heart swell.

Woo-hye suddenly noticed Hyang-eum’s sleeve was stained.

“You’ll need new clothes, Hyang-eum.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. All the clothes I have now are newly made. This sleeve just got a bit of ink on it, that’s all.”

To her surprise, Hyang-eum had recently begun studying.

“How are your studies going?”

“Well… it’s coming along.”

“Hyang-eum remembers everything so well. If you put your mind to it, you’ll learn quickly. Even the schoolteacher said you memorize characters faster than anyone else.”

Hyang-eum only gave a reluctant smile in return.

No matter how intricate the pattern, she could recall it as vividly as if the object were right in front of her. However, the stark, monotonous black ink of written characters made her eyes glaze over with boredom the moment she looked at them. On top of that, she had to memorize not only the shapes of each character, but also their meanings.

Nevertheless, Woo-hye’s eyes gleamed as she said,

“Hyang-eum is clever.”

“I’ve never met anyone with a memory sharper than yours.”

“You may not find it interesting now, but when you set your mind to it, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

—there was no way to put it off any longer.

‘Wait a moment. Did Her Ladyship deliberately whisper such sweet words to train me, coaxing me into studying on my own?’

Suspicion took root in Hyang-eum’s heart and she gave Woo-hye a narrow-eyed look. However, when she saw Woo-hye drowsily nodding off after eating her fill of sweets, the urge to protest faded.

‘All right, I’ll study…’

With tears welling in her eyes, Hyang-eum made her way to the study. She had only just started scribbling down characters that all looked the same — or perhaps they didn’t — when the door opened.

“Woo-hye.”

Joo-seop stepped inside without warning. He had thought it was his sister in the study, but seeing someone else instead, he froze in surprise.

Startled, Hyang-eum rose awkwardly to her feet and asked,

“Young Master Joo-seop. What brings you here?”

Only then did Joo-seop regain his composure and step further into the room.

“I sensed someone inside and thought Woo-hye was here. But what are you doing?”

“Studying.”

“You?”

His open bewilderment caused Hyang-eum to fix him with a steady, unblinking stare. Feeling the sting of her gaze, Joo-seop quickly added something, as if to show that he meant no offence.

“I only said so because I recall you hated studying when you were young.”

Hyang-eum was a little surprised. When they were younger, Joo-seop had always acted arrogant toward her, and they had never been particularly close. She hadn’t expected him to remember such things.

“It’s been so long, yet you still remember that.”

Unable to meet her eyes, Joo-seop glanced around the study, then sidled closer under the pretense of checking what she had written. He had expected her handwriting to be a mess, but instead he murmured in quiet admiration,

“Your writing is neat.”

“I’ve seen enough of it, after all.”

Memorizing the meanings was the real challenge—replicating the forms was easy. It was practically the same as drawing.

“I can write them, but I have no idea what they mean. I just jot down whatever I remember.”

“That’s rather unusual.”

Joo-seop gave a faint laugh, then, as if to encourage her while she clutched at her hair in frustration, added,

“I hated studying, too. It was tedious.”

At that, Hyang-eum’s face lit up. She abruptly leaned toward him, her eyes wide.

“Right? So it wasn’t just me who found it boring?”

“Y-yes.”

She sighed and slumped back into her seat, looking dejected. Seeing how glum she looked, Joo-seop awkwardly flicked through the nearby books before asking her a question.

“Shall I teach you?”

“You, Young Master?”

“If you write the characters, I’ll tell you what they mean. It’ll make memorizing easier for you.”

“But making you waste your time on something so trivial seems…”

“I have plenty of time to waste.”

His firm reply left Hyang-eum oddly unsettled. Plenty of time to waste? It was a strange thing to say.

Joo-seop’s expression turned slightly sour as he went on,

“And why am I still your ‘Young Master’? I heard you’re no longer a servant of the Dan household.”

“You may say that, but you still speak informally to me, even though I’m older than you.”

Her point was not without merit.

“…Forgive me, my lady.”

When Joo-seop yielded so readily, Hyang-eum had to stifle her laughter, answering him with exaggerated dignity.

“All right then, Master Dan. Ah — soon you’ll inherit the family; should I call you Elder Dan instead?”

At the word “elder,” Joo-seop frowned.

“Forget it. It feels awkward to call you ‘lady,’ so let’s just drop the formalities. That’d be easier.”

“Shall we, Joo-seop?”

Caught off guard by the mention of his name, Joo-seop blinked and looked flustered, the rim of his ear turning pink. Hyang-eum found her own remark so amusing that she laughed out loud and waved her hand.

“Maybe dropping the honorifics isn’t the best idea. But calling you ‘Master’ is fine.”

In a voice that had grown a little small, Joo-seop answered.

“Anything but ‘elder’ or ‘lord’—call me what you like, whatever’s comfortable for you.”

In that instant, Hyang-eum was reminded of her childhood and the days when the slightest interaction between them would spark a petty argument. Yesterday, their relationship still felt awkward, but now, after just a few words, the distance between them had disappeared.

As Hyang-eum lingered in that memory, Joo-seop dashed in with cold practicality.

“I’ll tutor you in characters from now on. Meet me here at this time every day.”

Every day? Stunned by this unexpected promise, Hyang-eum asked in a wilted voice.

“Every day…?”

“Yes.”

Though he knew she disliked studying, Joo-seop smiled like a mischievous boy and issued the warning,

“Don’t think of running off. I’ll come after you.” Then he left with a final, “See you tomorrow.”

Hyang-eum watched his retreating back in a haze, then suddenly shook her head as if to clear it. For some reason her face felt warm.

“I can’t live like this, really…”

Truly, the three Dan siblings had an uncanny knack for capturing people’s hearts.