How could someone like Yeon possibly be experiencing morning sickness? After all, she had obediently consumed everything — food, clothing, and even the scent of Hyecho clinging to her garments — in accordance with the Grand Empress Dowager’s wishes. There was no way she could be pregnant. Did the princess not know that?

“Yeon.”

“Your Highness, that’s impossible. Her Majesty the Grand Empress Dowager personally instructed me…”

“I know.”

Princess Sukon replied firmly. Yeon couldn’t say another word. She stared at the stern face of the woman before lowering her gaze. No matter how thoroughly one practised contraception, there was always a possibility of pregnancy.

Besides, she was Ryu’s only favoured consort. Unable to expend his energy elsewhere, he often played polo or trained. Sleeping with him every third night made it hard to believe that there was no chance of her becoming pregnant.

Yeon covered her face with both hands. Everything felt dreadful and hopeless.

The physician visiting from the Western Study to conduct the examination was none other than Physician Yong, whom Princess Sukon trusted implicitly.

He had been the princess’s daughter-in-law’s personal physician ever since she became pregnant. Yeon glanced sideways at the elderly man, who smiled gently at her.

She had been rambling incoherently about what had happened with Yonghwan in front of the emperor and Princess Sukon.

Seeing the physician made her break into a cold sweat. What if she really was pregnant? What if she was really carrying a child? All she could do now was pray that he would say, ‘There’s nothing wrong.’

“May I ask you to extend your arm for the pulse diagnosis?”

The physician asked calmly from behind her. Yeon looked at Ryu. He hadn’t said a word since the beginning. He hadn’t offered any comfort or criticism.

As emperor, he showed no intention of reprimanding his favoured consort. Yeon had no idea what she could possibly say to him. His silent gaze alone filled her with dread.

She averted her gaze, swallowed dryly, and extended her arm beyond her skirts.

Ever composed, Physician Yong began his pulse reading with grave serenity. Yeon felt as though she was going mad with fear.

Her heart was beating so wildly that she worried it might skew the results. What if, despite not being pregnant, her pulse was so steady that it was mistaken for a pregnant pulse?

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. At last, light will shine upon the court and the imperial family.”

***

“It is still a joyous occasion, Your Higness.”

He delivered the news—of a pregnancy, no less—from a woman who wasn’t even a proper daughter-in-law. Her brother forced a smile, trying to soften her tightly drawn expression.

But her thoughts drifted to the past.

Suin reminded her so much of Ryu’s mother. She might not have possessed that same striking beauty, but she had a fair, unblemished complexion and a gentle, refined manner. Her conduct was proper, and she was well-educated—worthy, in every sense, of the title Empress.

In truth, Ryu longed for an empress of his own and had hoped to find comfort in his wife. Above all, she valued the stability of the imperial family in her role as Empress Dowager.

She was a mother who had failed to raise her son properly. From the moment he was born, she knew that he was no ordinary child, but she could never have imagined that her twisted affection would lead her to abandon her three young children and turn her back on the world.

So this time…

“Your Highness.”

The Empress Dowager, her sharp expression unmoved even by her brother’s gentle words, let out a quiet sigh and turned her gaze away.

They said Yeon was pregnant. That woman—no more than a maid of the royal chambers—hadn’t even been formally named a concubine.

“Why does it trouble you so much? The Emperor is well past his prime. And yet he has no heir. All seven palaces remain empty, and he still refuses to take a concubine…”

“Brother.”

She cut him off, her voice firm.

“She carries only a concubine’s child.”

The elderly man remained calm and composed. The Grand Empress Dowager slowly closed her eyes beneath her brother’s firm gaze, nodding slowly. Yes. At most, the child would be the child of a concubine.

The heir would come from Suin, destined to become empress. Regardless of how foolish the emperor was, he now realised that he could not postpone the arranged marriage any longer.

This was particularly pertinent given that Suin herself had stated that she would not enter the palace unless she was appointed empress, and that she would never become a concubine.

Yeon had encouraged her to make this demand.

Yeon was a good, steady girl. Not just because she had lived her life as a servant, but because it was simply in her nature.

Her family, including her brother, the Haejoo Governor’s household, also cherished Yeon for her kind and gentle nature. Princess Sukon, her daughter, loved Yeon’s bright and affectionate manner, too. This was also why she had come to care for the girl herself.

“Come to think of it, wasn’t she said to be the eldest illegitimate daughter of Gyeong Bohyeon? If only that man had a conscience, Yeon wouldn’t have grown up the way she did.”

Suddenly, she could faintly hear Princess Sukon’s words echoing in her ears.

“Yes, Yeon was the daughter of Gyeong Bohyeon. Had she been born to a legitimate wife, she might already have been named empress.”

However, Gyeong Bohyeon had never intended to recognise the child.

Yeon wasn’t the ‘eldest illegitimate daughter’; she was a bastard. She was so lowly that she couldn’t even remain in the household.

Even illegitimate children born to concubines who weren’t added to the family register were at least acknowledged by their fathers. But Yeon…

She bit her lip.

“His Majesty’s affection for that girl is excessive. Even if Suin enters the palace, it won’t be easy to win his heart.”

She lowered her gaze to the floor. Her brother, who had been sipping his bitter tea in slow mouthfuls, looked at her. Her beautiful face, clouded with anxiety and anger, revealed a side to her that hadn’t existed in her younger years.

Was it because she had lost both her son and daughter-in-law at a young age?

The Grand Empress Dowager had found it difficult to raise her grandson, not because he was the emperor, but because he had always been an extraordinary child, even as a baby.

“Even if Yeon doesn’t meet your expectations, you should at least acknowledge her contributions.”

“Brother. Do you think I’m acting this way because I refuse to acknowledge what she has done?”

“Your Highness…”

“I know. Yeon has done well—remarkably well.”

She frowned. Her brother lowered his gaze, his expression suggesting that he was holding back a sigh. Her lips quivered slightly before she finally relaxed her shoulders.

Regardless of Yeon’s humble birth, how could she deny the girl’s merit?

If not for Yeon, Ryu might not have survived. She recalled the frail boy who had refused Yeon’s milk and wheezed day and night.

No one had ever raised a child before. Even she, a mother, had never breastfed her own children. So she had no idea how to comfort such a young baby.

Ryu’s mother had died before he could walk properly.

The toddler, who had just begun to take his first steps, would cry endlessly once his mother disappeared from view, refusing to eat. He would only fall asleep after crying so hard that he appeared to have fainted.

Yeon, who looked after Ryu, once said that he was closer to passing out than sleeping. How could a baby who had spent the whole day starving and crying be said to be ‘sleeping’?

Yes, she should have been grateful to Yeon.

What she did went beyond the duties of a maidservant. Even the most experienced maids who had raised ten children wouldn’t have been able to do what she had done.

“I should have married her off early.”

“Your Highness.”

“I know. Even so, what’s wrong is still wrong.”

“Married her off… Do you truly believe that was ever possible, Your Highness?”

Just then, she heard her brother’s dry voice in her ears as she bit down hard on her lip.

The Grand Empress Dowager, who had kept her gaze fixed on the floor, looked at him. He slowly shook his head and let out a heavy, clouded sigh.

She remembered the first time she met Ryu.

It was winter and shortly after the turn of the year. Yeon had just turned nine. After clearing the snow from the yard, she was feeding Suin her breakfast when she flinched at the sound of the household’s master calling for her. It was unusual for him to call her. The mistress was in charge of all household affairs.

Until the old madam passed away two years ago, the mistress herself hadn’t had much to do. Following the old madam’s death, however, the current mistress had taken on all her responsibilities.

Therefore, as a household servant, Yeon was much more familiar with the mistress’s face than the master’s.

“Is your stomachache any better?”

“Pardon?”

“I heard from Gadeok. Said it was quite bad two days ago.”

“Y-yes… It’s fine now. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“You barely eat—how did you end up with a stomachache?”

“That’s not true. I eat and sleep well. The mistress also…”

“There’s no need to flatter me.”

I eat well and sleep peacefully. The mistress, the young masters, even the little lady—they all treat me with such kindness. What more could I possibly want from life?

Yeon had just been about to say so when the Duke of the Western State interrupted her.

She blinked, caught off guard.

He possessed a commanding presence—entirely befitting the head of the Gyeong family, a lineage of military leaders that traced back to the very founding of the nation.

His hair was neatly tied, framing a face marked by strong brows and sharp, penetrating eyes. A high-bridged nose and finely shaped lips completed his strikingly handsome features.