Even after all she had endured, Jahyang still retained the dignity of a queen. Seok Haegyeong’s soldiers exchanged uncertain glances at her summons, yet none dared disobey. They answered her respectfully.

“Take me to His Majesty. I will stay with him.”

Nevertheless, the soldiers were sensible enough to consult each other before asking for permission to escort her. From the moment she gave the order until she finally left Yeonhwa Palace, Jahyang ignored Rayeon completely.

Alone, Rayeon was overwhelmed by a jumble of thoughts. Was Oyeong safe? Would she ever be allowed outside again? She needed to see Asil — that child had only just begun to open up to her. But did any of this matter anymore? Perhaps she could ask Jinyeon for help. He would gladly help, but would she even be allowed to see him?

Every thought led her to the same helpless conclusion. Everything rested with Seok Haegyeong. Throughout all her worries, she had spared none for herself. Now, quietly, she took stock of what little she had to bargain with. It was pitifully little.

Her tightly pressed lips betrayed her stubbornness. There was already an air of severity and inflexibility about her. He had noticed this earlier when she was supporting her sister-in-law, too; her face was as pale as if it had never known sunlight. Perhaps it was the prominent bones beneath her gaunt frame, but she looked as though she would break before she bent. Troublesome, in a word.

He could neither easily keep her nor simply dispose of her. In his eyes, she deserved to die a hundred times over alongside Geum Gyo Geung. But the people’s unwavering faith in the Myeolang Flute stood in his way. They would not accept a king who could not wield it.

Despite being exploited by their rulers, they still yearned to witness its miracles. The divine dragon had bestowed the flute that could summon or stop the rain. To them, a king who could wield it was no less than a god.

To those who revered the Geum royal family as divine, the men of Pajin were mere rebels. Seok Haegyeong was their leader — the man who had overthrown the royal household to settle an old vendetta. Their resentment was bound to grow.

Of course, he could rule by force. What subdues people more effectively than fear? However, he lacked the men to enforce such a regime. That was why he had relied on a surprise attack.

With Geum Gyo Geung imprisoned and all of his followers dead, he had secured his revenge. He had no desire to make innocent, defenseless people suffer. His dilemma was this: to rule without force, he would have to make peace with the detestable Geum family.

But he would never spare Gyo Geung. He would tear him limb from limb. That left only one person.

“…”

“…”

Seok Haegyeong studied the princess in front of her. She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. Her dark, deep eyes made him wonder what she was going to say. So he waited. Sometimes, watching was a strategy in itself.

‘What are you plotting?’

Would she beg him to spare her life? It was her only option. Had she not promised to do whatever he wanted? Yet she had little to offer beyond her unremarkable body. What did she hope to accomplish with it, when who knew how many men had already had their fill?

Her appearance surprised him a little. She looked too demure to invite men into her chambers. But plenty of people hid their true nature behind an innocent face. There was nothing remarkable about that. Just as his interest began to wane, the princess finally spoke, her dark eyes intent.

“How did you do it? It cannot have been easy. I never thought you could strike back in less than three years.”

Seok Haegyeong let out a disbelieving laugh. Of all things, that was what she chose to ask first? He had expected her to be consumed with saving her own life. He had no reason to withhold the answer, yet he did so, eager to see how she would react.

“Am I obliged to answer you?”

“In a kingdom of ten thousand chariots, it is said that the king will be killed by a minister who commands a thousand. In a kingdom with a thousand chariots, the king will be killed by a minister who commands one hundred. Yet Pajin doesn’t even have a hundred.”

As the princess had pointed out, their numbers should have made rebellion impossible. Yet he had prevailed because surrender had never been an option. Most families in Pajin had lost someone they relied on. Those who had lost a beloved son or a respected father without even knowing why had been left with nothing but rage.

Against such fury, what did the enemy’s numbers matter? Even if Gyo Geung had commanded ten million chariots rather than ten thousand, Seok Haegyeong would still have taken his head. Nothing could have shaken that resolve.

“And?”

“…I was simply curious. About what sort of man you are.”

The princess answered faintly, denying any other motive. So this was how she judged a person. Intrigued, Seok Haegyeong abruptly gave her an answer.

“I put our gold to use.”

“Gold…”

Raising and training a private army was extremely expensive. Maritime trade alone could not cover the cost, so Pajin’s gold deposits made up the difference. All the gold traded in Geumseong came from Pajin. Although a treaty limited its production and trade with other nations, the shattered trust meant there was no reason to continue honoring it.

They continued to send exquisite pieces of gold jewelry to the royal household as before. He had begrudged none of it. Soon enough, it would all be theirs again. The lavish gifts had lulled the royals into complacency, just as he had intended. Now, he had regained possession of every piece of gold they had sent.

“Have you figured out what sort of man I am now?”

“You have both boldness and cunning. You are more than capable of ruling a kingdom.”

At the princess’s assessment, Seok Haegyeong’s lips curved into a crooked smile. She was hardly in a position to make such pronouncements. Was she not taking things a little too lightly?

“I hadn’t realized this was a hearing to judge my fitness to rule.”

The princess’s cheeks flushed at his biting sarcasm.

“That is not what I…”

“Now, beg for your life, Princess.”

He interrupted her hurried explanation and got straight to the point. Her small lips pressed together as tightly as before. As he watched them shift while she searched for words, he felt a sudden thirst. Unconsciously, he moistened his own lips with his tongue, trying to read her intentions. She was so slow and hesitant. Was she doing it deliberately? Was she trying to buy a little more time?

The earlier question, which was so far removed from her situation, had probably been another attempt to stall. He could not see what she hoped to gain, though. As he frowned in irritation at her transparent maneuvering, the princess flinched and blurted out.

“I have studied statecraft.”

Another remark out of nowhere. It was so absurd that he could not help laughing. This woman had any number of ways to grate on his nerves.

“I told you to beg for your life, not boast about your education.”

It did surprise him a little. Statecraft was usually taught only to the heir. But what of it? Gyo Geung had emptied the kingdom’s coffers through extravagance and indulgence, while Geum Rayeon had undermined its moral order through her debauchery. In the end, whatever the siblings had learned had proved useless.

“I am not boasting… In any case, at least one member of the Geum family must survive in order to wield the sacred artefact.” If someone who suddenly becomes king knows little about governance, the people will suffer. What I mean is…”

Sensing his contempt, Geum Rayeon added uncertainly.

“…I could be of help, in one way or another.”

What a dignified way to beg! Was he supposed to spare her simply because she had studied statecraft, and then consult her whenever he needed advice? She was practically expecting him to treat her as his tutor. He didn’t think it was worth replying to.

“Of course you could, Princess.”

His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Rayeon refused to let it deter her. She had endured contempt countless times; she could bear it once more. Despite his indifference, she pressed on, determined to prove her worth.

“All you have secured is a seat in the Geum royal palace. A throne seized by force can just as easily be lost. If you truly wish to rule the people, you must earn heaven’s favor—and heaven heeds the people’s voices when choosing a king.”

“I am merely a merchant, Princess. Such lofty talk is beyond me.”

“With Gyo Geung imprisoned, the people are bound to be afraid. Things here are different from Pajin. This region is vulnerable to floods and forest fires. Without the Myeolang Flute, they would be helpless against either disaster. They will want an heir from the Geum bloodline, even if the child is not born into the rightful line of succession.”

The princess was right. The high mountains and dense forests surrounding Geumseong on three sides formed a natural fortress, but they were also its greatest weakness. The power of the Myeolang Flute over rain was indispensable.

Sensing his agreement, she became more earnest. Her gaze sharpened, and she leaned slightly towards him. He was pleased. She should have approached him like this from the beginning, rather than acting superior and discussing strategy and statecraft.

“So you are offering to bear me an heir?”

Though she had broached the subject herself, the princess flinched at his words before cautiously nodding.

“…Yes.”