Yeon recalled the days when he had been a beautiful, delicate child—days she could never forget, not even for a single season.

What had Ryu been to her back then? Her child? A younger brother? Or merely an orphaned infant who had lost his parents?

She didn’t know. To Yeon, Ryu had once meant everything. She had given him her whole life, had poured all her strength into raising him. Her dedication had been absolute, bone-breaking even. And yet, that very child—the infant she had painstakingly nurtured—now saw her as a woman. Wanted her as his woman.

‘I still vividly remember those days when you stubbornly refused to open your mouth, silently longing for your mother, while I struggled and sweated as I tried to feed you milk.’

“How could I not understand?”

“If you really understood, you wouldn’t treat me this way.”

“What’s upset you again?”

“See, you’re treating me like a child again.”

“It’s because you’re acting like one.”

Ryu tightened his grip around her slender waist, looking displeased.

Over the past two days, they had argued about whether he should attend the banquet at the Seoguk residence. She had intended it as an opportunity for him to make friends with Suin, or at least get to know her better.

Was it really so difficult for his fiancée to attend a birthday banquet? The Gyeong Bohyeon estate wasn’t far from the palace, after all.

“Did my invitation to accompany me to Lady Suin’s birthday banquet trouble you this deeply, Your Majesty?”

He had called her by that name again — a name that did not fit her, a name that was not truly hers. The emperor always called her ‘Yu Seol-yeon’. But to everyone else, she had only ever been ‘this girl’ or ‘that girl’ — simply ‘Yeon’.

Even her deceased mother had called her ‘that girl’. The Lord of the Seoguk residence had addressed her that way, too. The entire household called her ‘that girl’, only changing to ‘Yeon’ after she entered the imperial palace.

When palace officials frowned at such a crude designation, they justified their disapproval by insisting that the palace was far too noble a place for even low-ranking attendants to speak so thoughtlessly.

“Isn’t such a name too vulgar for a child this lovely and beautiful?”

She recalled the elegant voice of Princess Sukon from years ago. The princess had said that she found her given name too crude, so she had decided to call her Yeon. The young Ryu had added the meaning ‘beautiful’ to this name.

Thus, she was no longer simply ‘that girl’, but ‘Yeon’. One winter’s morning, after they had slept together for the first time, the character ‘Seol’ was added.

“Because you’re pure and beautiful like snow.”

Ryu explained. Beautiful as snow, cool and tingling to the touch — that’s how she got the name ‘Seol-yeon’.”

Yeon merely nodded in agreement, never intending to oppose him. She simply wanted to comfort this child and help him grow into a good adult. That had been her only intention.

The surname ‘Yu’ was added about a year later. He said, ‘Since I am Ryu, you should be Yu.’ Thus, she became Yu Seol-yeon.

It was a name that neither suited her nor was correct. However, she decided to keep it, thinking it was just a passing fancy. First love was fleeting: passionate at first, but inevitably short-lived.

“Lady Suin is your official fiancée, Your Majesty. You should show her more attention. Moreover, the state marriage is continually being delayed.”

Yeon gently pushed Ryu away. She was sincerely worried. She couldn’t understand why Ryu kept putting off the wedding.

No matter how infatuated he was with a woman from the inner chambers, it was wrong to delay his marriage for so long. Besides, Suin had been his betrothed since childhood. The Empress Dowager and Princess Sukon had arranged it, which was precisely why Yeon had entered the palace as a nanny.

“Does it really mean nothing to you?”

“Your Majesty—”

“You don’t love me at all, do you?”

“How could you say such a thing?”

Yeon gently reassured him, carefully softening her expression.

Soothing Ryu had always been difficult. Ever since he was young—no, since he was a mere infant—Ryu had been delicate and sensitive. The smallest discomfort had made him burst into tears instantly.

He always needed to be held close while he slept. Even if she put him down, she could never go far. Princess Sukon, who was not good at consoling crying children, would panic whenever Yeon cried and hurry back to him.

He was such a fragile child — so small and delicate — that he seemed as though he might break at any moment. And yet now he spoke of love. Rather than showing her filial respect, he saw her as a woman.

“You still think of me as your little baby.”

Yeon swallowed dryly. Although she could see no reason why she shouldn’t think of her son in that way, Ryu’s expression made it clear that he thought it was completely wrong.

“Suin will never enter the palace unless you conceive my child.”

“Your Majesty—”

“So, it isn’t me who should be anxious. It’s you.”

Ryu smiled crookedly, the corner of his lips curving into a sharp, metallic smirk. Yeon pressed her lips tightly together as his fingertips touched beneath her chin.

“If you have my child, I will no longer be your baby, because then I’ll become the father of your child.”

Yeon’s expression hardened at the low murmur of his voice.

Watching the quiet hostility in her eyes, Ryu bit softly into her tender lips—soft, red, and sweet, no different from ripe fruit.

Yeon silently endured the sensation of the child she had raised devouring her mouth. Ryu had declared he was passionately in love with her—so deeply that it pained him to his core. She couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he’d started seeing her as a woman.

Yeon closed her eyes. She saw a vision of young Ryu: the tiny infant, wrapped snugly and desperately searching for his mother; the pitiful child who had lost his father and, soon afterwards, his mother. How could she ever forget that boy?

She knew she would never forget the infant she once held close to her heart.

***

The emperor advised the Empress Dowager not to send any further gifts to his woman. Knowing Ryu’s character well, the Empress Dowager did not argue long.

When he sarcastically remarked that she had no reason to care about a woman who wasn’t even his grandmother’s daughter-in-law, she said she had nothing more to add. Ryu had clearly sensed his grandmother’s displeasure, but merely smiled quietly in response.

“Now there’s nothing to disturb us.”

On their way back from Yeongsu Palace, Ryu held Yeon and whispered this confidently. Yeon felt a chill wash over her, as if doused in cold water, though she tried hard not to show it.

She hadn’t realised that Ryu knew his grandmother, the Empress Dowager, had coated her clothes and jewellery with contraceptives.

When exactly had he found out? How had he remained so composed despite knowing?

Yet, Yeon did not ask. Instead, she opened her mouth carefully toward Ryu.

“Your Majesty, since you’ve accomplished one of your desires, please grant this concubine one wish in return.”

“To visit the Seoguk residence?”

“…Yes.”

“Do you really want to go that badly?”

“I’d like to visit my mother. It’s been a long time since I last paid my respects.”

Her mother had no proper tombstone or even a burial mound. Originally, her remains had been placed under a mere heap of stones. Later, Ryu arranged for her to be buried properly near the Seoguk residence.

Although Yeon had only managed to visit twice since then, the place where Ryu had laid her mother to rest was etched deeply in her heart.

She felt grateful to Ryu for many things, but if she had to choose just one, it would be this. That was why she tried to follow his wishes, whatever they were.

“All right.”

After staring at her for a long moment, Ryu answered flatly as she invoked her late mother. Yeon raised her head and smiled gently. He looked at her expressionlessly, then leaned forward briefly and kissed her softly on the lips.

The day of Suin’s birthday banquet arrived.

Yeon dressed as simply as possible. Mansuk urged her to dress more lavishly, insisting that her beauty was exceptional enough to make even the simplest outfit appear extravagant. However, Yeon disagreed.

After all, the purpose of the gathering was to honour Suin and Ryu. She knew exactly what the banquet represented. The reason Suin’s mother had sent the invitation was clear.

Yeon planned to keep a respectful distance and observe the etiquette strictly. She had no intention of acting like a concubine when she wasn’t one yet.

The day they set off for the Seoguk residence was bright and sunny. Yeon pinned her hair up with a small jade hairpin and a silver floral ornament. She chose her clothing for simplicity, too.

Her blue sleeves were lightly embroidered with magnolias, and she wore a pale pink skirt paired with a plain outer robe. She looked less like the emperor’s favoured woman and more like the humble wife of a minor official.

“You still look as lovely as Xishi herself, even dressed like that.”

Mansuk remarked as Yeon stepped into her palanquin.

Yeon merely smiled faintly in response.