Suddenly, Yeon spotted a tall figure approaching from the distance. Yeon stopped walking. Perhaps he had seen her too, because he began to close the distance between them quickly. Yeon froze, bringing her hands up to her chest.

“So, you’re that wench.”

The voice was light and almost cheerful. Yeon looked at him silently. Very few people in the Western Duke’s household referred to her as ‘that wench’. Not even the Duke, the Duchess or Suin had ever done so; they always called her Yeon or Seol-yeon. After all, it was the Emperor who had given her that name.

Although she had once been a slave in their household, she had served as the Emperor’s nanny and now worked as his court maid. No matter how highborn her master’s family might be, no one could dare call her ‘wench’, especially not in the emperor’s presence.

Yet…

“You must be the second son, my lord.”

Yeon greeted him with composed formality. He was Gyeong Yonghwan, the second son of Gyeong Bohyeon.

She studied the man, whose broad frame resembled that of his father. Unlike his elder brother, Yongwoo, who excelled in literary and martial arts, Yonghwan favoured hunting and polo.

It was said that he had a gambling habit since childhood and that, once he turned fifteen, visiting courtesan houses had become as regular for him as eating meals — much to the Duchess’s concern.

Even Suin, who usually got on well with her brothers, was known to hate Yonghwan. So how could Yeon possibly feel any fondness for him?

He was not a good master to his household servants, either. He was so obsessed with women and gambling that even when his wife was dying, he embraced a female servant and treated her like a courtesan. This alone spoke volumes about his vulgarity and baseness.

Still, there was nothing Yeon could do now. If her status were even slightly higher, she might have been able to ignore him and walk past. But she was, and always had been, a servant in the household of the Western Duke. It was her choice to stay.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in His Majesty’s arms? What brings you here?”

The man smiled slyly. Yeon instinctively hunched her shoulders and parted her lips slightly. She didn’t know how to respond.

Should she be honest and tell him that she had come to visit her mother’s grave?

However, the Western Duke’s household disapproved of that. Despite it being the Emperor’s wish, Yeon’s mother’s grave was placed on the hill behind the estate, higher than the main house itself.

Yeon hesitated, worried that being too honest might provoke the Duke’s anger. Her lips moved silently.

“I just needed some air, so I went out for a walk.”

“At this hour?”

“Then may I ask, my lord, what brings you out at this hour?”

In an attempt to change the subject, Yeon steered the conversation in a different direction. But Yonghwan only responded with a foolish grin and remained silent.

When she briefly averted her gaze to try to think of a way out of the situation, she saw a dark shadow approaching.

Yeon stepped back instinctively. She immediately regretted it. She had gone out alone, unable to wake Mansuk, and now she was stranded.

Just as despair tightened her chest and she bit her lip, a sticky hand lifted the hem of her baeja, a traditional vest. Shocked, she held her breath and looked up at him.

Her baeja was made of thin ramie cloth that was almost transparent and barely concealed her skin. His touch made her tremble.

Seeing this, Yonghwan let out a murky, lecherous laugh. Even though dawn was approaching, it was improper, not to mention disgraceful, for a woman in her state to be out alone at this time of night. At the very least, she should have had an attendant with her.

Only then did she realize how foolish her actions had been. Regret came too late.

“Sir.”

“Your nape is flushed. I suppose you’ve just finished pleasing His Majesty—standing in for my sister.”

A cold sweat broke out across Yeon’s skin as she desperately searched for a way to free herself from Yonghwan’s grip. The man, his smile twisted with malice, leaned in closer and inhaled the faint scent still clinging to her body.

The heavy perfume of a courtesan, now soaked into his collar, was almost suffocating. Disgust rippled through her—her entire body tensed in revulsion. She raised her hand and shoved against his chest.

Yonghwan seized her trembling wrist. Nausea churned in her stomach. When she tried to pull away, he only tightened his grip, grinning as he pulled her closer.

“You have served the Emperor well, so how about the young master of your household?If we’re going by seniority, shouldn’t I be the one to have you first?”

The man holding her tightly—despite her struggling to break free—let out a low chuckle and leaned in to whisper. Yeon’s eyelids fluttered as she felt the press of his cr*tch against her thigh, a wave of revulsion washing over her.

“If the Emperor finds out… he’ll be furious. Please…”

Yonghwan ignored her plea, burying his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent like a predator savoring its prey. She squeezed her eyes shut. No matter how hard she pushed, he didn’t move. He wouldn’t.

Her head began to spin. The room swayed around her. She felt lightheaded, overwhelmed—this had never happened before. It was the first time she had been violated like this.

No one in the palace had ever dared touch her this way. She may not have held a formal rank, but she was the Emperor’s favored one.

But even that… didn’t protect her now.

“Your Majesty, please!”

“Stay still!”

Yonghwan yanked Yeon by the hair, and her legs gave out beneath her, sending her crashing to the floor. His eyes glinted with something dark as he lunged at her, hunger etched across his face.

He tore away the thin fabric draped over her stomach and hastily loosened the lace at her br*ast. Her body was exposed, vulnerable under his gaze.

Yeon coughed, her breathing unsteady and panicked. The man, lost in his frenzy, pressed his mouth to her br*ast. A cry tore from her lips, but before it could escape fully, he clamped a hand over her mouth.

Just as the tears she had been struggling to hold back finally spilled over, a long sword came crashing down—piercing through Yonghwan’s shoulder and driving deep into the ground with a resounding thud.

“Aaaagh!”

A scream so sharp it seemed to tear the very air echoed around them, the pitch high enough to make Yeon’s ears ring. She trembled violently, unable to stop the flood of tears now streaming down her cheeks.

Yonghwan writhed on the floor, drooling and convulsing, pinned like an insect under glass. The blade had run clean through his shoulder, anchoring him to the ground.

Yeon could do nothing but stare, frozen in place, as his body twisted in agony.

Then—
A familiar face stepped into view.

“Your Majesty.”

His face was as cold and sharp as a broken sword. Yeon tried to stifle the sob caught in her throat as she looked at him.

Ryu didn’t help her up. He simply stared at her, his gaze icy and unyielding.

***

The Emperor’s birthday banquet had been cancelled. The second son of the Duke of Seoguk had attempted to attack the Emperor’s favourite companion.

She was not a royal consort or a court lady of high rank, but just an ordinary palace maid. Under different circumstances, this might have been overlooked in favour of the upcoming celebration.

However, the Emperor was not willing to overlook this incident.

Moreover, the duke’s second son had already been stabbed in the shoulder with the Emperor’s own blade.

In short, it had already become an incident.

Yeon bit her lip when she heard that the entire household of the Duke of Seoguk had been in an uproar since morning because of her.

Princess Sukon had come to the Ministry early that morning to oversee the preparations for Suin’s banquet. She sat opposite Yeon, looking at her reproachfully. It was the kind of look that asked, “How could you be so careless?”

“How did such a thing happen to you?”

Although the princess’s voice remained calm, Yeon realised then that the woman who had always been kind to her was deeply upset. She stared blankly into the air before biting her lip.

She felt like crying, not because others failed to acknowledge her suffering, but because she was ashamed of herself. She was ashamed that, even at her age, she still didn’t know how to conduct herself properly.

She was supposed to serve the Emperor above all else and guide him towards the right path, yet she had acted so disgracefully.

“I have nothing to say for myself.”

“Yeon-ah.”

“Your Highness…”

The tears she had tried so hard to hold back welled up and trickled down her cheek. She was afraid that this incident might delay Suin’s entry into the palace once again. The Emperor had never liked Suin in the first place. No one understood why. They had only met a few times — what was it that displeased him so much?

Much time had passed since he had ascended the throne, yet he still had no heir. When urged to take a concubine, he would respond, ‘How can I consider taking a concubine when I haven’t even accepted an empress?’ And when pressed to speed up Suin’s entry into the palace, he would always use her health as an excuse.

Yeon felt as though it were all her fault. This was why she found it so difficult whenever Ryu sought her out. Because he always did.

“An heir from a woman who’s always bedridden? Yeon, do you want our future crown prince to be weak and unwell?”

“But still…”

“If you’re so worried about my heir, why don’t you give me one yourself?”

Ryu would say things like that all the time, carelessly and as if it were no big deal. When she pointed out that she couldn’t possibly bear the Emperor’s child because she wasn’t a royal concubine, he would casually imply that appointing her as one was always an option.

Yeon never knew how to respond to that. But now…

“His Majesty… At this rate, he might truly—Lady Suin—”

“Enough!”

“Your Highness…”

“I’ve summoned the royal physician.”

“There’s no need… I’m fine.”

“I heard from your maid that you’ve been feeling nauseous lately. It’s best to have it properly examined.”

“What are you saying?”

Yeon was stunned. Morning sickness? That couldn’t be right. She had lost her appetite over the past few months and hadn’t been eating properly. She had always had a small appetite. If it was too hot, she skipped meals. If it was too cold, she skipped them again.