***

Swaaah—!
Although the sky had been clear until four o’clock in the morning, it had darkened by midday and eventually began to rain heavily.

As a result, the Sixth Prince’s plans to go out and personally purchase a hunting bow and sword in the afternoon were severely disrupted.

Disheartened, the Sixth Prince immediately summoned San-gyeong, leaving Woo-hye alone in the room.

It was strange that the Sixth Prince had come all the way to Doha to see Woo-hye, but the one he was actually spending time with was San-gyeong.

Suddenly, Woo-hye found herself in the position of a woman whose husband had been taken away, and she felt a strange sense of loss.

“Where is His Lordship?”

Hyang-eum, who had been gently combing her hair, answered her question,

“He is still at the villa with His Highness, the Sixth Prince.”

“I see…”

The Sixth Prince was extravagant and had good taste – someone who was useful in many ways.

He could also be used as a means to put pressure on Gyu-yeong, so Woo-hye didn’t particularly resent him.

But separating a newlywed couple right after their wedding… wasn’t that a bit much?

If only he had called her instead—then at least it would have made sense. She could’ve understood that.

But to call another woman’s husband at the break of dawn?

A man who was neither handsome enough to be alluring nor charming enough to entertain?

It was baffling—insulting, even.

What on earth was she thinking?

‘It bothers me.’
If the person she loved wanted something from her, she’d give it – willingly.

But sharing? That was another matter entirely.

She had never been the type to tolerate it.

Especially not for someone she didn’t care about – someone whose life or death meant nothing to her.

The thought of someone else coveting what was hers made her skin crawl.

And if she ever had to choose between sharing it or losing it altogether, she’d rather burn it to the ground.

People often called her unkind. Cruel, even. But those parts of her had never been easy to change. And the truth was – she had no desire to change them.

It was just the way she was born. What could she do about it?

Then, remembering the events of the day before, Hyang-eum spoke up.

“I believe His Highness was truly moved when my lord personally offered him the game he had hunted himself.”

“That’s true, he may be surrounded by beautiful women, but what he really craves is talent.”

And San-gyeong was different.

Even Woo-hye, though blind, could sense how remarkable he was.

How much more clearly would the sixth prince have seen it?

Woo-hye sighed softly.

“A needle can’t stay hidden in a bag forever. In other words, true talent will always find a way to shine.”

“……”

‘Hmm, is Cheong-un really that remarkable?’

Hyang-eum tilted her head, unable to recall any particularly impressive qualities apart from him squandering money and preparing for strange business ventures.

‘Ah, beating up Seok Cheol-won – that was incredibly satisfying.

Admittedly, that was impressive.’

Just then, the sound of a geomungo being played drifted in through the window.

The sound came from the direction of the villa where the Sixth Lord was staying.

Although it was not a flashy tune to show off one’s skills, the slow and relaxed melody had a quiet charm.

Occasionally, a strong plucking of the strings blended well with the sound of raindrops on the ground, in keeping with the mood of the weather.

“This is a clean and elegant sound. I don’t know who’s playing, but it sounds like someone intelligent.”

“Not just someone skilled?”

“There aren’t many notes, but the mood the piece conveys is clear and dignified, so it sounds refined regardless of the technical skill.”

Hearing this, Hyang-eum began to understand what Woo-hye meant.

“With average skills, it would be difficult to satisfy a prince with such exacting tastes. Whether a piece is simple or complex, there’s always a challenge. But this selection avoids that problem?”

“Exactly. So choosing the right piece means having a good head on your shoulders.

Woo-hye wasn’t particularly good at playing the geomungo, so she hadn’t taken it up as a hobby. But she enjoyed listening.

Five pieces were played in a row, and just then Ryeong-ah came in with refreshments.

“My lady, as you requested, the kumquats soaked in honey have set nicely. Please try some.”

Kumquats were relatively easy to find in Doha.

San-gyeong had bought a lot of them to serve as fruit for the banquet – so much that there was still plenty left after the event.

When he had given her a kumquat, Woo-hye had thought that soaking it in honey might soften its sourness and enhance its unique fragrance, making it a suitable snack.

So she had instructed Ryeong-ah to make some, and after tasting them, she found their chewy texture and flavour quite pleasant.

“You did a good job. Thank you, Ryeong-ah. Arrange the honey-soaked kumquats nicely on a plate and take them to His Highness. Prepare a separate bowl for my husband as well.”

“Understood. As soon as I bring the snacks, His Highness will have a reason to take a break from playing.”

At those words, Woo-hye stopped.

“Was it His Highness who was playing just now?”

“Yes. His Highness the Sixth Prince is said to be extremely pleased with the pieces he has chosen and keeps asking him to continue. While I was in the kitchen, the servants kept mentioning that they were bringing out new bottles of wine for him.”

Hyang-eum remembered a certain rumour about the Sixth Prince.

“It is said that every performer who enters the Sixth Prince’s quarters comes out with his hands covered in blood… Surely he wouldn’t force His Lordship to play until he was in that state?”

“I’m not sure.”

Woo-hye replied vaguely, but her expression had turned cold.

“Ryeong-ah, I’ll bring the honeyed kumquats myself.”

Startled by Woo-hye’s unfamiliar icy demeanour, Ryeong-ah quickly bowed her head.

“Yes, my lady.”

***

Woo-hye made her way to the villa with Hyang-eum and Ryeong-ah in tow.

The closer they got, the clearer the sound of the geomungo became – and with it, Woo-hye’s expression grew colder.

This was now the seventh piece in a row.

“Please tell His Highness that the lady of the Dan family would like to see him.”

The court lady guarding the entrance, her chin raised in arrogance, glanced at Woo-hye before passing the message on to the sixth prince.

“Your Highness, the lady of the Dan family requests an audience.”

“Let her in.”

As the doors opened and Woo-hye stepped inside, the geomungo music paused for a moment and then resumed.

San-gyeong’s brow furrowed slightly.

He had been here since early in the morning, entertaining the sixth prince, mainly to protect Woo-hye.

They couldn’t go out because of the rain, and unlike Akyang, this place wasn’t overflowing with beauties.

San-gyeong knew full well that if a woman, even a newlywed, caught the Sixth Prince’s eye, he wouldn’t hesitate to summon her to his bed.

The only reason such stories hadn’t spread was because Consort Hyeon had worked hard to keep them under wraps.

So nothing good could come from Woo-hye attracting his attention.

Yet here she was, appearing before them in striking beauty, bowing gracefully in perfect decorum.

“I, your humble servant, pay my respects to Your Highness, the Sixth Prince.”

Dressed in a white top and crimson skirt, Woo-hye looked radiant and alluring. It was a stark contrast to the elegant and serene aura she had exuded the day before.

The Sixth Prince, who had been leaning back, instinctively straightened his back and sat up properly.

Seeing her like this, he couldn’t help but imagine how stunning she must have looked in her wedding gown – a wave of deep regret swept over him.

“Raise your head and come sit here. I was just enjoying Cheong-un’s wonderful performance.”

“This is actually the first time I have heard my husband play the geomungo. Thanks to Your Highness, my ears have been blessed today. As a small token of my gratitude, may I offer you this snack?”

The maid standing beside the sixth prince stepped forward and took the bowl from Woo-hye’s hands.

“These are kumquats, pitted and soaked in honey. They’re not much, but I thought they might serve as a light palate cleanser. I hope Your Highness will accept them as a small gesture of sincerity.”

Though it was hard to put a finger on it, Woo-hye’s words and mannerisms had a subtle charm to them – something endearing that made it easy for people to feel close to her.

The Sixth Prince tasted the honeyed kumquats with a satisfied expression. Even though it was nothing like the rare delicacies he was used to, he found it strangely to his liking.

“Mm, these are quite good. They also go well with wine.”

At these words, Woo-hye looked relieved and added playfully,

“I brought them because it seemed like Your Highness only favoured my husband. I’m glad to know they suit your taste.”

“What is this? Hahaha!”

Winning someone over had always come effortlessly to Woo-hye.

She had spent her whole life trying to be adored – it was as natural to her as breathing. And with her innate cunning and charm, she was naturally good at it.

Just then, one of the strings of the geomungo broke with a sharp snap. San-gyeong had broken the string.

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

“Hm, this kind of mistake happens even to experienced performers. Don’t worry about it. Wanghak, bring him another geomungo.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Woo-hye scoffed inwardly at the Sixth Prince’s words – not telling San-gyeong to stop, but simply to replace the instrument.

Outwardly, however, she looked nothing but warm and radiant, like a blossoming spring flower.

“Thank you for your generosity, Your Highness.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Lady Dan, you’re truly a virtuous woman. Cheong-un, you are a very lucky man.”

The Sixth Prince, known for his generosity towards beautiful women, felt magnanimous.

“Lady Dan, if there’s anything you want, speak freely. I will grant you one request.”

“I am deeply grateful. Forgive my boldness, Your Highness, but I’d like to make a request.”

“Go ahead.”

“In truth, I too know how to play the geomungo. I would be honoured if I could play a piece in my husband’s place.”

The Sixth Prince was very pleased.

“If that’s your wish, I’ll gladly grant it. Please, by all means – let us hear it.”

Woo-hye smiled shyly and sat down at the newly prepared geomungo.

San-gyeong stepped aside but watched her closely, his eyes filled with suspicion, trying to figure out what she was up to.

Soon, Woo-hye checked the position of the strings and plucked one with her fingers.

“Oh…”

The Sixth Prince covered his mouth awkwardly with his hand, and the servants struggled to hold back their laughter.

Woo-hye’s skill was barely above that of a beginner.

Moreover, the piece she had chosen required complex techniques and was difficult to play without first checking the exact position of the strings.

The Sixth Prince’s ears began to pound, and he was about to stop the music, disappointment flickering across his face – when something caught his attention.

“Stop.”

Startled by the sudden order, Woo-hye paused, uncertain.

The prince’s eyes narrowed and his voice grew sharp.

“That melody – only women of the royal household would know it. How is it that you, Lady Dan, know it? And more than that… you’ve practised it?”

Woo-hye tilted her head slightly, confused by his suspicion.

“A noblewoman who lives in a temple I often visit taught me. She took pity on my blindness and taught me when she had time.”

But he wasn’t convinced.

Unless someone had spent a lot of time in the palace, it would be impossible to know the tune, let alone play it with such skill.

And now she was saying that someone in a temple had taught her?

“A noblewoman in a temple… wait – do you mean Wolyangsa?”

“Yes, It’s a well-known temple in Doha. I see Your Highness is familiar with it as well.”

Wolyangsa.

The very temple where the deposed empress had been imprisoned.

And now this blind girl claimed to have learned royal court music there?

It couldn’t be more obvious who her teacher had been.