The Sixth Prince had a shocked expression on his face.

‘The deposed Empress?!’

If word of his connection to the deposed Empress got out and reached Empress Ryu’s ears, he could be branded a traitor.

“What on earth…! No, never mind. That’s enough – leave at once. And take the zither with you!”

At the prince’s sharp reply, Woo-hye bowed hastily with a frightened look on her face.

“I have committed a grave offence, Your Highness! Please forgive my insolence!”

The Sixth Prince shot to his feet, looking as if he might faint from shock.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

Had no one been watching, he might have torn his hair out. That’s how unbearable the situation was.

Eyes wide, he gestured wildly in every direction and barked an order.

“From now on, no one is to play the zither. Is that understood?”

“We understand Your Highness’s order.”

San-gyeong replied in Woo-hye’s name and then led her outside.

By then, the rain had decreased to a light drizzle.

Woo-hye, who had been stumbling around as if barely conscious, suddenly returned to normal as soon as they left the detached quarters. The woman who had just trembled with fear, as if she were going to faint, was gone without a trace.

“I’m fine now.”

San-gyeong was a little taken aback by the dramatic change, although it also left him with a strange feeling.

Woo-hye had risked this dangerous stunt just to get him out. It was a loyal act – but a reckless one.

“That was dangerous. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I don’t want to.”

“……”

San-gyeong, unaccustomed to such bold defiance, was momentarily at a loss for words.

With a pained expression, Woo-hye gently pulled his hand towards her and examined it carefully, as if checking his condition.

“Your fingertips are hot. Doesn’t it hurt?”

San-gyeong held his breath for a moment. His heartbeat was calm, but he felt a strange jolt.

“She’s touching a man’s hand so casually…”

Even if it was her husband’s hand, it felt as if she had crossed a line. The thought that she might have done the same with any other man if he were her husband left him speechless – and deeply displeased.

He vaguely sensed that her reasoning was flawed, but in any case, this kind of uninhibited contact made him uncomfortable.

He gave a subtle tug, trying to pull his hand away.

“I’m fine. And it’s only because your hands are unusually cold.”

“It’s from overworking your fingers plucking the strings. You didn’t bruise them, did you? Still, I suppose my cold hands are useful at times like this.”

Woo-hye, looking worried, continued to cool his hand with both of hers. San-gyeong had no choice but to let her hold it.

Her touch was incredibly soft – so much so that even those watching didn’t know where to look.

San-gyeong was confused by this intimate behaviour. It was even a bit too forward. And showing such a scene in front of his subordinates made him feel self-conscious.

He looked around unnecessarily to see if anyone else was around, and then changed the subject.

“What you said to His Highness earlier – was it true? That you learned to play the zither at Wolyang Temple?”

“Yes, it’s true. There’s a noble lady there.”

The fact that the deposed Empress was at Wolyang Temple was a closely guarded secret, especially among the general public.

But San-gyeong suspected that Woo-hye already knew that the lady was the deposed empress.

Otherwise she wouldn’t have deliberately mentioned it in front of the Sixth Prince to get him to back off.

But even though they both suspected each other, they pretended not to know for the time being. It wasn’t yet time to lay all their cards on the table. For now, they would play along.

Just then, Gyu-yeong and her brother Gyeon, who had heard that Woo-hye had gone to see the sixth prince, spotted them and approached.

“I thought you were with His Highness the Prince. What are you two doing here?”

From a distance, they had already seen Woo-hye and San-gyeong standing under the same umbrella, sharing a strangely intimate mood.

Still holding his hand, Woo-hye turned her head slightly and replied,

“Gyu-yeong. His Highness seemed a little uncomfortable and said he wanted to be alone, so we were about to leave.”

Gyu-yeong’s eyes sparkled. She had been itching to put Woo-hye in her place, but had held back, unsure whose side the Sixth Prince would take.

“Oh… is that so? That’s perfect. I came to see you because I have something to talk about.”

Knowing exactly why Gyu-yeong had come, Mujin stepped forward with a look that said he really wanted to sigh.

“It’s probably best for everyone to be alone today, Gyu-yeong. If His Highness the Prince said he wanted to be alone, then he’d probably prefer us to be quiet as well.”

Jarim interjected.

“It’s not like we’re going to cause a ruckus. Besides, if not now, when would the family get a chance to talk?”

It was a pointed remark, criticising how Woo-hye and San-gyeong had spent the previous day alone instead of properly entertaining their guests.

Woo-hye replied with a quiet smile.

“I hope you don’t take it too personally, Sister Jarim. My husband and I didn’t even know each other before, so we need time to get to know each other.”

Until now, Woo-hye and San-gyeong had maintained the formality and distance typical of a political marriage – polite but distant.

The day before, they hadn’t seemed particularly close, so if the wife suddenly became affectionate overnight, it could only mean one thing: the husband had performed well in bed.

Those familiar with this line of reasoning looked at San-gyeong with curiosity.

Now that they looked, he had broad shoulders and a well-defined chest – clearly someone who didn’t tire easily.

San-gyeong turned to Iho and gave an order.

“Take the guests to the reception room and serve them tea.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Our clothes are wet. We’ll change and join you in the reception room.”

With a detached, cold demeanour, he informed the guests and led Woo-hye to the main quarters.

“Take your time changing. There’s no need to rush.”

“Understood. You should get out of those wet clothes as well, my lord.”

As Woo-hye spoke with a playful smile, San-gyeong instinctively raised his hand, then flinched and pulled it back. He had almost absentmindedly touched her softly puffed cheek.

He quickly made his way to the study.

The study had been converted for personal use, including a place to change clothes.

Normally a wife would help her husband with his grooming, but he was taking advantage of the current situation, where Woo-hye couldn’t easily do so.

It was also part of his plan to have designated places throughout the residence where he could discreetly change into his Cheong-un disguise in case of an emergency.

Once inside the room, San-gyeong looked at his fingertips.

‘Are they a bit red?’

His hands, calloused from years of training, were not affected in the slightest by the simple act of playing the zither.

San-gyeong found himself smiling without realising it. He kept thinking about Woo-hye’s face, the way she’d looked at his hand with such concern.

But the moment he remembered her flirting with the sixth prince, the smile disappeared from his lips.

Woo-hye had an air of purity that made her feel untouchable, and when dressed up, her beauty became even more captivating.

Today, she had clearly gone all out with her appearance, dazzling like a walking jewel.

With such charm and loveliness, she was impossible to ignore – smiling sweetly in a way that made you instinctively want to possess her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You didn’t have to go so far…”

Hearing this, Samho immediately realised that he was talking about Woo-hye and spoke up as if to defend her.

“Still, it was an effective move. Distancing herself from the deposed empress by drawing the prince’s attention elsewhere was more effective than simply using a hunting trip as a diversion.”

That was true.

It wasn’t good for the Sixth Prince to stay in Doha. If people who hoped to win the royal favour flocked to him, it might expose the flaws in their assumed identities.

San-gyeong had already sent a request to the emperor to summon the Sixth Prince to Akyang.

As Doha and Akyang were far apart, it would take time for the emperor’s orders to arrive.

Until then, all they could do was hold out as best they could. That’s why San-gyeong had planned the hunting trip – to divert attention.

“Still, if the weather had been better, we wouldn’t have had to take such a risk. This is an issue that could easily become politicised and needs to be handled carefully.

With the hunting trip cancelled, the bored prince would clearly be looking for another distraction – and it was obvious that Woo-hye would be the target.

However, thanks to Woo-hye’s quick thinking, San-gyeong no longer had to go out of his way to appease the prince. The result was more than satisfying.

Samho handed San-gyeong his outer robe and reported on the day’s events.

“We intercepted Madam Gye’s letter to Seol Mi-hee. She claimed that Cheong-un and Dan Woo-hye had joined forces and taken full control of the house.

It was nonsense.

“Burn it.”

“Yes, sir.”

At that moment, Iho, who had escorted the guests to the reception room, entered the study.

“I have returned, my lord.”

Humming to himself, Iho began to pick out clothes for San-gyeong to wear.

“Madam was dressed to impress again today. We can’t afford to fall behind. Leave it to me, my lord – after all, I’m the beloved youngest of the Baek family who had to change outfits dozens of times every time my sisters went out.”

Samho, clearly annoyed that Iho was babbling without understanding the gravity of the situation, scolded him.

“Can’t you be serious for once?”

“Choosing between deep blue or red takes more thought than you think. Anyway – those who know nothing of a woman’s heart shouldn’t speak.”

“Idiot.”

As their childish bickering dragged on, San-gyeong pointed to the red one.

“This one.”

“Oh? What an honour to have you actually express a preference.”

He just remembered that Woo-hye had once said that she liked the colour red.