Although Yeon had been admitted to the palace in recognition of her success in calming the difficult and sensitive Suin, she lacked confidence. Suin was certainly a challenging child, but she had never caused a nanny this much trouble before.

If she was unhappy, she would spit out all her milk and refuse to eat. Eventually, however, she would wear herself out and gulp down food other than milk. In truth, the boy simply preferred snacks to proper meals, and her refusal to eat was more of a power struggle with her carers. But the emperor…

“Do you think His Majesty, the baby emperor, truly misses his mother so much that he’s refusing all food?”

“I’m not sure.”

Yuwon sighed in response to Yeon’s question. Yeon looked up at her, worried that the baby might have another seizure like the one the night before. After Yuwon had soothed the emperor to sleep, she would retire to the next room to rest, leaving the baby entirely in Yeon’s care.

She felt nothing but pity for the child, who didn’t realise he was wearing the imperial crown. At least Suin had not lost her mother — but the emperor…

This baby had lost both his parents.

Yeon didn’t know exactly how the late emperor had died. She had only heard that he had been mortally wounded while suppressing a rebel uprising.  And so, the baby became emperor.

Yeon often wondered if this tiny infant, writhing and gasping for breath in her arms, was truly mourning his lost parents. She herself still missed her own mother. On nights when she lay beside the emperor in the bed she had made for herself, a wave of sadness would wash over her at the thought of being left alone in this vast, secluded palace.

She thought of her own mother, who had knelt and begged every day not to be separated from her, and who had lost her baby. This desperate longing felt somehow similar to the emperor’s helpless, heart-wrenching cries; he had also lost both his parents. Because of this, Yeon sometimes found herself cradling the baby in silence, fighting back tears.

“He’s so pitiful.”

Yeon murmured this as she watched Yuwon adjust the front of her robe. Yuwon, preparing to step into the next room for a short rest, turned back to look at her.

No matter how pitiful the child was, Yeon knew he was still the Son of Heaven. She hadn’t forgotten that. Both Yuwon and the Grand Empress Dowager, whom Yeon had met briefly, had reminded her of this: he wasn’t just any royal child — he was the emperor himself.

He wasn’t a crown prince waiting to ascend the throne. He already wore the imperial crown.

But what did that matter?

The baby, gasping for breath in Yeon’s arms and clinging to life, was just a child, his lashes wet with tears.

What saddened Yeon most was the knowledge that, by the time this child grew up, he would probably no longer remember his mother’s face.

To the young Yeon, all that mattered was that the child had lost his father because of other people. His mother could not bear the grief and followed him in death. He was left in this world with siblings who were younger than him. That alone was important.

“How much must he miss his mother? He can’t even swallow milk. If I were to lose my mother too…”

“He is His Majesty the Emperor.”

“Yes.”

“I understand how you feel, but it’s not right to think of him as just a baby who needs to be fed.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, madam.”

At Yuwon’s stern tone, Yeon quickly nodded her head. Yuwon said nothing further after that. Yeon saw her off as she left to return briefly to the Yeongbyeong household. The moment she left, Yeon was alone with the baby.

Snowflakes were falling quietly outside the Yanmyeong palace, making it feel like a vast, deep abyss. Yeon found the stillness both frightening and oddly calming. It wasn’t so bad.

“Ueeing—nng, waaaah.”

As she knelt by the round window, watching the snow fall, Yeon turned around. The baby, whom she had put down to sleep on the bedding, had started crying again.

She rushed over at once.

Technically, he was no longer small enough to be called a baby. Other children his age were already toddling around. But even so, the emperor was still very much a child. Unlike his peers, however, he remained lying down, endlessly searching for his mother.

Yeon lifted the emperor into her arms. He felt lighter than any baby she had ever held, lighter even than those from ordinary families. The frail little body squirmed weakly in her embrace.

“There, there—shh, shh. Your Majesty, please don’t cry.”

Remembering how Suin had once cried inconsolably, Yeon began to soothe the baby. But this child did not calm easily. In fact, the tighter she held him, the harder he cried, as if being held hurt him.

Finally, tears filled the emperor’s large black eyes.

He hadn’t cried like this when Yuwon was holding him. Was it because the person holding him had changed?

“Your Majesty, please don’t do this. If you keep this up… Ah!”

Yeon stood up in a panic. Just as she had feared, the baby began to vomit the little milk he had drunk, frothy bubbles escaping from his small lips.

Yeon began to tremble.

Suin had vomited milk many times when he was upset. When he cried himself into a frenzy, he would deliberately vomit to show how much pain and distress he was in.

But the emperor wasn’t old enough to do that on purpose. He was simply crying until his tiny body could hold no more.

“Y-Your Majesty…”

Yeon remembered what Yuwon had said before leaving: that she must never forget that the child she was caring for was the emperor. She must always keep that in mind. The Grand Empress Dowager had said the same.

“Always remember: this baby is the emperor.”

Yeon was afraid of everything in the imperial palace. Even before entering, the weight on her shoulders had been heavy—but the moment she stepped into the palace and walked the straight path leading to Yanmyeong, it became clear.

‘If anything goes wrong, I’ll die a miserable death. Without even making a sound.’

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please, please calm down.”

Yeon patted the emperor’s back, but the more she did, the more he cried as if in the throes of a seizure. She looked around, helpless. Just thinking that the eunuchs and court ladies outside could hear everything made her feel like she was going mad.

What if someone came in, grabbed her by the arms, and threw her into the yard of Yanmyeong? The thought terrified her.

“P-please… I’m scared.”

Yeon whispered to the child. She was truly scared now. Not just pitiful, but frightened—terrified. When Suin cried, she had felt flustered. Later, once she became used to it, it was bothersome and exhausting. All she wanted then was to calm him and put him to sleep quickly.

But the emperor was different. Yeon was terrified of this young emperor’s cries.

She feared that if she didn’t handle this properly, her head would be the price. Just like the heads displayed on pikes in the marketplace.

“They say people die all the time in the palace. And if you make a mistake, your whole family could be punished and executed.”

She remembered the servant girl saying as they shoveled snow together in the courtyard. The girl had looked at Yeon with worry in her round, narrow eyes.

People being killed in the palace wasn’t rare. Sometimes, even the family of the accused would be executed. Not just the immediate family—even in-laws, distant relatives… anyone even remotely connected could be wiped out.

“Yeon, you be careful too.”

The frail girl had whispered those words.

Now Yeon felt like she would lose her mind with fear. The emperor still so small he couldn’t even eat porridge, barely managing a little milk, what if something happened to him?

It wasn’t uncommon for babies to die after crying too hard. Suin had never gone that far, but several babies belonging to the palace maids had.

Yeon trembled violently.

“Your Majesty, please… please stop crying.”

As she whispered and patted his back, the door opened.

It was the old court lady.

Yeon looked up at her, her teeth chattering. The woman strode in and snatched the baby away.

Yeon blinked in terror.

Then—smack—her cheek was struck hard.

Yeon fell to the floor with a thud.

“Utterly useless.”

The old court lady twisted her thin lips in disgust.

Yeon trembled as she pushed herself up from the floor. The baby was still crying and hadn’t calmed at all.

Another court lady rushed in with a juice mixture containing a sleep-inducing ingredient. Yeon watched as the old court lady slowly fed the liquid to the crying baby, letting it drip little by little into his mouth as he refused to open it.

‘So this is how they put the emperor to sleep…’
Yeon swallowed her tears. There was no other choice. It was still better than letting him cry himself into unconsciousness.

She didn’t even wipe her tears—just stared at the floor.

***

She thought she’d be thrown out immediately, but to her surprise, she kept being given chances.

It seemed they had no better option than to keep her close. No doubt they had tried every other method already.

Yeon looked at the baby, who had finally fallen asleep on that snowy afternoon.

Although “peacefully asleep” didn’t quite suit him—his pale face looked alarmingly thin—today, at least, he’d eaten some porridge and sipped a bit of juice. That was something.

Yeon looked down at the sleeping child with a heavy heart.

She thought of Suin. She had been fussy and stubborn, quick to cry if something didn’t go her way, but at least there were moments when she opened her eyes and smiled sweetly.

But not once had the emperor done that.

It had already been ten days since Yeon entered the palace, and yet…

Every time he opened his eyes, the first thing he called out was “Mama.” And when he didn’t see his mother, his eyes would quickly fill with tears.