At last, the day of Woo-hye and San-gyeong’s wedding arrived.

Woo-hye was adorned far more splendidly and beautifully than at her first ceremony. The garments she had worn in Doha had already been elaborate, being provided by the Imperial Palace, but the bridal robes newly made for the Consort of the Prince of Ye were on an entirely different level.

“My lady, the young master has arrived.”

Woo-hye, who had just donned her phoenix crown and was adjusting the final details of her attire, broke into a radiant smile at the announcement that Joo-seop had come.

“Please, show him in.”

With the sentencing of Dan Myeongwon complete, Joo-seop had risen as head of the household. The original Dan family estate had been sold, and Dan-hwa was chosen as their new residence. Though Joo-seop was still of the Dan clan, he had earned distinction for his work in resolving the landslides in Unseo, and as Woo-hye’s brother, he had received the Emperor’s approval.

The moment Joo-seop entered the room, his mouth fell open at the sight of his dazzlingly beautiful sister.

“I always knew our Woo-hye was the most beautiful in the world, but today… today you are truly like a fairy descended from the heavens.”

At his words, Hyang-eum and the nearby maids all nodded gravely, as though to confirm that every syllable was nothing but the truth. Woo-hye had always been beautiful, but now, dressed in her finest attire, her radiance had reached a level that could only be called breathtaking.

Noticing Joo-seop’s hair still unbound, Woo-hye felt a pang of guilt.

“You should have married first, Brother, before I held my own wedding. Forgive me.”

But Joo-seop, never one to be bound by formality, brushed her apology aside without a thought.

“What is there to forgive? I’m in no hurry at all. But you—this is your second marriage, so better that you don’t delay.”

At his playful jest, Woo-hye let out a soft laugh.

On the birthday of the Dan matriarch, San-gyeong had taken on Cheong-un’s identity and wed her in his stead. That truth was now known to all. And so, the two who had once been joined in secret were at last to marry openly.

These days in Akyang, their union had even sparked two amusing debates.

The first: since he had once married as Cheong-un, should San-gyeong—now marrying as Prince of Ye—still be considered a v*rgin groom?

The second: though Woo-hye was essentially marrying the very same man, was it truly accurate to call this a remarriage?

As such an unprecedented situation had never before occurred, people’s fascination ran high. Yet in the end, the words most often used to settle the debate were always the same.

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“If the bride and groom looked like that, I too would marry them a hundred, a thousand times over.”

At those words, everyone laughed and agreed, “So would I,” and the heated debate came to a close, leaving them to realize it had all been meaningless in the first place.

“My lady, His Highness the Prince of Ye has arrived.”

At the word that San-gyeong had arrived with the bridal palanquin, Woo-hye covered her face with a red veil and, taking Joo-seop’s hand, stepped out of the house.

At her first wedding, she had been so distracted—fretting over tripping on her long hem or stumbling to the ground—that there had been no room for ease. The press of the crowd, the music, the deafening crack of firecrackers—together they had left her dizzy and disoriented.

But today was different.

‘Perhaps it is because this is my second wedding that I feel so calm?’

It was a rare experience that most people could never claim to have had. Yet, thanks to the first ceremony, Woo-hye lifted her red veil with poise and confidence. She was filled with curiosity—how magnificent must San-gyeong look today, adorned in all his bridal finery?

But before she could raise it further, San-gyeong’s hand intercepted hers.

“What is the hurry, my lady?”

“I missed your face so much I could hardly bear it.”

San-gyeong’s soft laugh at her playful words drew gasps and sighs from those around them, for none could help but marvel at his beauty.

‘That only makes me more curious…’

In the end, Woo-hye was left with her veil still lowered, unable to glimpse her husband’s face, as she was gently ushered into the palanquin.

The journey from Dan-hwa to the Prince of Ye’s residence was brief, and in no time they had arrived.

At the sight before her, Woo-hye clicked her tongue softly. Compared to the Dan-hwa grounds, the press of people here was overwhelming.

‘It is as though the entire city of Akyang has gathered in this one place.’

The Emperor and Empress themselves attended the wedding. Naturally, the ceremony was no ordinary celebration, but a grand spectacle on the scale of a national festival.

To thunderous cheers, Woo-hye stepped down from the palanquin. Hand in hand with San-gyeong, they lifted the red veil together and walked forward, treading upon the crimson mats laid beneath their feet.

The ceremony unfolded exactly as tradition required.

They crossed first the brazier, then the saddle placed in their path, before at last ascending the dais—where they bowed three times: once to Heaven and Earth, once to the Emperor and Empress standing in the place of their parents, and once to each other.

Afterward, they shared the ceremonial cup of wine—substituted with water for the rite—then bound the paired gourd with a red cord and laid it upon the table.

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The Emperor, watching the pair move through the rites without a single misstep, jested lightly.

“Truly, the two of you must be seasoned—so skilled, not a single mistake.”

At his words, laughter erupted all around, and the ceremony drew to its close.

As the banquet began in earnest, San-gyeong led Woo-hye to the bridal chamber.

Once inside, they sat side by side upon the bed, an odd silence settling between them. Though this was hardly their first time, a strange tension threaded the air.

“I shall lift the veil now.”

Unlike during their first wedding, he felt the weight of this moment anew. Though he had seen her in wedding robes before, his hands trembled slightly as he drew back the red silk.

Their eyes met.

The moment Woo-hye caught sight of her husband, her lips curved of their own accord. Seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes and the smile that she couldn’t hide, San-gyeong let out an incredulous chuckle.

“The way you look at me is… indecent.”

“Surely not. It’s only the face of a woman in love, my lord husband.”

She spoke with shameless ease, her expression alight with unbridled joy as she gazed at him again.

‘So this breathtaking man is truly mine, my husband for life?’

It was enough to fill her heart to bursting just to look at him.

San-gyeong pulled Woo-hye into a tight embrace. Although he didn’t say it out loud, he had been longing for this day.

“My lady.”

“Yes, my lord husband.”

His reply was as natural as ever, yet the word ‘husband’ had taken on a new and profound meaning tonight.

He knew he should restrain himself; he would soon have to return to the banquet hall to welcome the guests. But he bent towards her, unable to resist, and kissed her.

If anyone had seen them, they would never have dared to call the Prince of Ye a bachelor again.

“My lord… no, stop…”

Woo-hye pulled away with breathless protest, forcing San-gyeong to break the kiss. He barely held himself back from pressing her down and losing himself in her entirely.

He rested his forehead against the curve of her neck and his breath came out hot and ragged.

“Ha… you’re driving me crazy.”

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“What can we do, my lord husband? It isn’t night yet.”

Woo-hye reached into the sleeve of her wedding robe and drew out a small vial.

“It’s a good thing I thought to bring this.”

She tapped the bottle against her palm, and out rolled a very familiar pill—the Immovable Heart medicine crafted by Mokcheon.

San-gyeong stared at it with a look of disbelief before arching a brow.

“You thought to prepare for this? Now I’m curious—what exactly did you expect, my lady?”

“Well…”

Woo-hye’s gaze dropped to the center of his robes. Despite the multiple layers of fine silk, his size was impossible to hide.

“There’s no way you can walk out there like this. Come now, take it.”

To protect the Prince of Ye’s dignity, she swiftly placed the pill between his lips. Sang-gyeong chewed and swallowed it, then remarked, “Did you know? My leave of absence lasts an entire month.”

The prospect of spending all that time together as newlyweds should have been joyous. Yet, for some reason, Woo-hye felt a chill run down her spine.

Sang-gyeong smiled mischievously as he headed for the banquet.

“I’ll make my greetings quickly and return at once, so the world may soon learn of our little Dodo.”

“Our Dodo? Don’t tell me that’s the baby’s name already?”

“Wait patiently.”

Leaving Woo-hye flustered, he strode off to the banquet hall.

Just a month after the wedding, news spread that the Princess Consort of Ye was pregnant. While some whispered that she must have conceived before the marriage, no one in the Prince’s household entertained such doubts.

“It was only natural.”

That was the unanimous opinion of all who served within the Prince of Ye’s residence.

⟡⟡⟡THE END⟡⟡⟡