She could see her mother whenever she wanted, and there were always maids bringing her food, so she was never hungry. She knew it, too.

Just as her mother was treated differently there, so was she — even more so than the other palace servants. But that didn’t mean she missed that special treatment or wanted to go back.

Living in constant fear for the young emperor’s safety and trembling every day — this life was unbearable. If something happened to her, it would affect her mother, too. She was tired of worrying that her failure alone could cause everything — her studies, her future — to fall apart. Even if someone called it a ridiculous delusion, Yeon lived each day while grappling with that fear:

“His Majesty the Emperor doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true.”

The princess shook her head firmly. Yeon stared at the woman, her eyes wide with fear. A hand unaccustomed to hardship gently stroked Yeon’s warm cheek.

“You’ve been doing so well.”

“But…”

“I know it may sound strange, but His Majesty holds you in special regard.”

The emperor was just a baby, barely old enough to take his first steps. Children of that age usually toddled around, but the Emperor only ever lay there, never moving. What could such a delayed child possibly understand?

Yeon recalled the baby sniffling and whining even in his sleep whenever she held him.

“His Highness doesn’t want me.”

“According to Lady Gye, he stood up by himself in front of the court ladies.”

“That was…”

“Lady Gye said she truly believes it’s because of you.”

It was a wild assumption. Yeon wanted to say it wasn’t true. But the princess looked utterly convinced, as though the young emperor had stood up just to reach her.

It was absurd. Even if it were possible, he wouldn’t do such a thing for her. Sometimes it felt as though he wanted to torment her more than the beasts did.

She often felt this way when she looked into his dark eyes, even though he was just a baby, lying there and squirming around.

But then…

“His Majesty ate porridge while you were asleep.”

He finished the whole bowl. And afterwards, they said he didn’t cry once.

“He… really?”

Yeon, who had been picturing the young Emperor with a complicated expression, widened her eyes. Princess Sukon gently caressed her face, smiling brightly. That firm conviction she had—it must have come from something real.

***

The princess hadn’t been wrong.

When Yeon returned to the emperor’s side, he was quietly nestled in his grandmother’s arms. According to Lady Gye, a former elderly court lady, this was the first time he hadn’t cried while being held, except when the Empress Dowager was alive.

Yeon glanced nervously at the woman holding him. Bathed in gentle warmth, she had a strikingly beautiful expression. It was no wonder people said the late Emperor had resembled her so much. The young emperor seemed to have inherited much of her appearance, too.

The woman, whose beauty had never faded with age, radiated a dignified presence that was unbefitting of someone called a dowager. She turned to look at Yeon.

Wearing a teal robe adorned with peonies and phoenixes, the Empress Dowager revealed a neckline that was far from modest; yet her presence exuded overwhelming authority.

Yeon knelt in front of her, lowering herself with the timid demeanour of a guilty child. Princess Sukon patted her back gently and offered a reassuring smile, as if to say that everything was fine. However, Yeon couldn’t shake the discomfort of simply being in this space.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what the princess had said: that the emperor seemed to want her.

When Yeon had expressed a longing to see her mother, the Empress Dowager had remained silent; instead, she had brought Yeon to the Emperor’s residence in Yanmyeong.

“The Emperor didn’t even skip dinner tonight.”

Yeon, who had been silently enduring her fear, parted her lips slightly, unsure how to respond. The Empress Dowager turned to her with a gentle smile.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

Yeon looked quietly at the woman holding the Emperor. The young boy was also watching her. In fact, he had been watching her ever since she entered the room, as if she were the only person in his world.

Yeon lowered her gaze.

“I… I am only a humble servant.”

“I’ll be counting on you from now on, too.”

She swallowed hard. Yeon forced herself to nod.

If she didn’t, the Emperor might start crying again once this moment passed. Children were unpredictable and fickle by nature.

So was Suin. One moment she would smile sweetly, and the next she would twist her body in irritation, crying and flailing her limbs. Soothing a child like that was exhausting, and Yeon had once felt like running from the room.

Even so, Suin was easier to handle than the Emperor.

“Your Highness… I am merely low-born…”

“Come here and hold His Majesty.”

The Empress Dowager interrupted Yeon and beckoned her closer. Yeon, her face pale, walked over and sat beside her. The Empress Dowager handed the Emperor, whom she had been holding, to Yeon.

Yeon trembled as she took the child into her arms.

Although he was still light, he somehow felt heavy in her arms. He was naturally taller than other children his age, and the thick, padded cotton winter robe he wore added to his weight.

Above all, Yeon was just a nine-year-old girl. Holding a baby larger than most toddlers was tiring for her. She broke out in a cold sweat, fearing that he might start crying again.

Fortunately, the child only blinked quietly at her, staring without crying. Yeon held back a sigh of relief. As she glanced at Princess Sukon, the baby suddenly reached out his tiny hand and gently touched her flushed cheek.

Yeon was startled, but the Empress Dowager looked pleased — even that small gesture seemed to satisfy her.

After that, the emperor didn’t cry again. He no longer tried to feed, and Lady Yeon returned to the princess’s quarters.

It was as if the emperor had simply chosen to lie down all that time, despite being capable of standing. Suddenly, he got up and began walking.

After just three days, he was toddling after Yeon. She looked at him fondly as he followed her.

All her fear and resentment melted away.

Princess Sukon had promised to bring Yeon’s mother into the palace once winter was over. She had also said that if Yeon wrote letters through a literate court lady, she would ensure they were delivered. Those words finally brought a smile to Yeon’s face.

When the bitter cold faded, everything truly felt like it was getting better.

The young emperor especially liked sitting on Yeon’s lap. He would often eat rice porridge nestled in her arms and sometimes chew bits of rice.

Previously, he had only drunk fruit juice, but now he ate fruit and rice cakes as snacks.

Time and again, he would kiss Yeon on the cheek.

When she pulled away, saying, ‘Your Majesty, my cheek and lips are going to wear out,’ he would pout and tug at her hair in protest.

Although his hands were small, they were surprisingly strong, and he would pull her towards him until she gave in and let him kiss her again.

“Your Majesty.”

One day in early spring… The Emperor would sometimes pick wildflowers and give them to her.

After all, he was just a toddler — what did he know about flowers or beauty?

But Yeon still placed the flowers that he held tightly in his tiny hand into a book that she couldn’t read. She just wanted to keep them somehow.

“This.”

It was noon. She was feeding him a snack when he held a piece of gyehwa-tteok towards her mouth.

He had done the same thing at breakfast.

Yeon shook her head, about to tell him that she was fine, but she was worried that he might cry again with a loud ‘Waaah!’, so instead she opened her mouth.

Since that one incident, the baby hadn’t cried again. Even when he was displeased, he would only whine or fuss.

However, if Yeon ever refused something he offered her, he would look as though he was about to burst into tears.

It didn’t matter what it was — rice cakes or wildflowers.

He would stare at her, his lips quivering and his eyes full of hurt.

It was both adorable and pitiful. That’s why Yeon always accepted whatever he gave her.

Then, just two days ago, something unexpected happened. The young emperor must have thought that the princess’s hairpin, inlaid with green jade, looked rather pretty. He clumsily took it out of her soft, flowing hair and toddled over to Yeon, holding it out to her.

Flustered, Yeon hesitated, looking to the princess for guidance. The princess covered her mouth with her sleeve and burst into laughter.

“They say His Majesty holds you especially dear, Yeon. And it seems it’s true, doesn’t it?”

She still couldn’t quite believe that her nephew, who had once lain there like a corpse, barely breathing, was now doing something so cheeky and sweet. Her face radiated warmth as she spoke to Yeon.

Yeon’s cheeks flushed pink and she quickly shook her head.

They had spent so much time together that perhaps he truly thought of her as a mother. He had been weaned, and Lady Yuwon no longer came to the palace. In truth, they only had each other now.

Yeon hadn’t even been assigned her own quarters yet. She had to stay by the Emperor’s side day and night.

She would most likely continue to live in Yanmyeong with him until he was older.

Yeon understood why the young emperor was especially fond of her.

At that age, one’s mother was the whole world.