“For the eldest’s achievement, I shall grant Grand Prince Ikwon’s request,” King Bonhyeon declared.
I reacted before I could stop myself. I hadn’t expected him to step forward like that.
Thinking it over, it still felt surreal. I’d never asked him to grant my wish.
My goal was simply to reclaim the Deposed Queen’s relics. Wasn’t that the least I could do, having taken her son’s body?
And if he was going to speak up, why wait until it was over to make such a fuss?
“If there’s something you desire, speak,” he said.
A royal wish was a massive opportunity, but I didn’t have anything urgent enough to use it now.
“I’m deeply moved by Your Majesty’s grace,” I said, bowing deeply.
I aimed to sound respectful yet maintain some dignity, appearing just foolish enough to fit a wastrel’s image without looking utterly hopeless.
“My conduct has been poor, so few wish to associate with me. I need companions, so I’d like to take someone compatible as an aide. Would that be permissible?”
There was no need to ask his permission.
But saying I’d save the wish for later wasn’t something to declare in front of this crowd. Perhaps that’s why King Bonhyeon dangled such a grand prize publicly.
If I’d mentioned Queen Wu’s clan or the Deposed Queen here, I’d be out of the succession race entirely.
I waited cautiously for his response.
“Is that all you want?” he asked.
His reply didn’t seem to carry any particular intent.
It wasn’t approval or disapproval—just neutral.
Perhaps that was deliberate.
It was hard to read his true thoughts.
“So it is,” I confirmed.
“Very well, then!” he said.
His eyes, still tinged with boredom, fixed on me before he spoke again.
“Grand Prince Ikwon, do as you wish.”
I bowed again. “I’m grateful, Your Majesty.”
I’d managed to save some face. A glance at Yehwi showed him looking shocked.
Satisfying.
“Your Highness,” Hanseon called, his voice trembling as he approached.
Urged by his expression, I nodded for him to speak.
“Grand Prince Jean has sent an eunuch,” he said cautiously.
His voice shook as if something serious had happened. If it was because of Yehwi, then this was it.
Finally, he’d sent it.
I allowed the eunuch Yehwi sent to enter. Younger than Hanseon, he carried two objects wrapped in cloth.
I knew what they were at a glance.
The young eunuch opened his mouth. “Grand Prince Jean—”
Everyone already knew, but no one listened to a wastrel’s words.
“Quiet and set them down!” I snapped.
When I cut him off, the eunuch glared subtly. Raising my fist like a true wastrel, he quickly lowered his eyes.
“Good, now get out.”
Living as a wastrel had its perks—no one questioned my temper.
After the young eunuch left, Hanseon began unwrapping the cloth with trembling hands. I wasn’t particularly excited, but Hanseon was different, practically shaking with emotion.
I spoke up. “Alright, enough.”
“What joy this is, Your Highness!” Hanseon said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Quite sentimental for an eunuch. Or was it age? Would my maternal grandfather be like that? Probably not. I nodded vaguely.
“If you’re happy, Hanseon, I’m happy too.”
The unwrapped swords looked impressive even at a glance. I hadn’t expected much from the Deposed Queen’s relics, rarely used in combat, but they exceeded expectations.
Standing to inspect them, I found their weight and balance perfect—a fine pair of swords.
Drawing one, the blade sang softly. My reflection met my eyes on its polished surface. The So clan’s emblem, etched clearly without wear, gleamed.
A gift to celebrate a new beginning.
“Nice, they even have names,” I said.
On the other side of the scabbard, near the hilt, a name was engraved.
Eunryun (Silver Wheel).
I turned the sword over, examining it.
I’ll take this to Wolha.
As I spoke, Hanseon stretched his neck like a turtle, curious.
I hadn’t told him yet. I sheathed the sword and sat down. There was something more urgent than admiring the blade.
“Hanseon, I need to tell you something important. Come here.”
It was best to discuss it now—Hanseon was always busy. Was there that much to do? Just earlier, he’d been tending to chores. Yesterday, he spent the whole day wiping flowerpot leaves with a dry cloth.
Did leaves need wiping? Wouldn’t water clean them naturally?
“Yes, Your Highness,” Hanseon said, setting the swords aside and approaching.
“Where do I start?” I muttered, then decided to keep it simple.
Important things deserved simplicity.
“I’m going to Wolha,” I said.
“What?” Hanseon’s eyes widened in disbelief.
I shut my mouth, avoiding further explanation.
Let’s think this through.
In my view, Hanseon wouldn’t survive the grueling march to the north. And Wolha’s brutal cold—I might not survive it either.
Hanseon, at his age, couldn’t follow and serve me there.
“You don’t have to come,” I said.
Hanseon looked indignant. “How can you say that, Your Highness!”
He seemed genuinely hurt.
“Even if my body breaks, I’ll always stay by Your Highness’s side.”
No need to go that far.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. How could I stay comfortably in the capital while you go to such a harsh place? Sitting or lying down, I’d think of you, like sitting on thorns. I’d rather die by your side.”
I replied awkwardly, “Don’t talk about dying.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said.
It felt like scolding an elder. But if Hanseon was determined to follow, how could I stop him? I hadn’t known him long, but I already knew his stubbornness.
“We leave in a fortnight,” I said, informing him of the schedule.
King Bonhyeon had roughly set a date for sending someone, and it was confirmed to align with the royal chambers’ timeline, so it was approaching fast.
Whether Hanseon came or not, preparing for the journey was his responsibility. He’d be even busier for a while.
I glanced around the room, fixing my gaze on a corner.
“I’m taking him too,” I said.
Gonjo, dozing in the cage, quietly opened his eyes.
He’d been eavesdropping, the sly thing.
No one could fool me like that.
Our eyes met.
It felt like his feathers bristled—probably my imagination.
I grinned at Gonjo. “You’re coming too.”
“Caw!” he screeched, his cry piercing at the news.
“He’s excited too,” I said.
“Caw!” Another shrill cry, like a chicken escaping a coop.
I turned back to Hanseon. “And get some paper—I need to write a letter.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said, bringing paper, ink, and a brush.
I began writing a letter to my maternal grandfather.
I labored over it, trying not to offend him since I had a favor to ask.
Are you in peace, Grandfather? I offer my greetings. I regret not speaking with you at His Majesty’s birthday banquet.
Things here remain the same, but I’m soon leaving on a long journey and have a favor to ask. To whom else could I turn? Please don’t refuse and hear me out.
By His Majesty’s command, I’ll depart for Wolha in the north soon, with no certain return date. I worry Hyeonnyeongdang will be empty, but I trust you’ll look after it.
I have two requests. First, guide a man named Inhong and introduce him to a monk I’ll specify. Second, find a person—details are below.
Send them to me immediately upon finding them, whether I’m in the capital or the north. I earnestly beseech you.
I figured my grandfather would delegate finding the boy to Shin Gwiryeong. A man of his stature wouldn’t scour the kingdom himself.
With Pyeonggwang Merchant Guild’s resources, finding him shouldn’t be hard.
And since Shin Gwiryeong wanted me to become king, he’d surely find the boy as I wished.
Was Shin Gwiryeong a man or a woman? I still didn’t know. Not that it mattered more than their role as guild leader.
I might need to meet Grandfather before leaving.
I’d need to find a way to function without Jongmeoki Flower.
It wasn’t an ordinary herb—it was Jongmeoki Flower. I couldn’t brew it in Wolha. If someone poisoned it, rumors would fly.
A prince’s succession was worth more than any treasure.
“Give me more paper,” I said, extending my hand.
Hanseon handed me another sheet.
On the second page, I detailed Jincheon’s appearance and clues to find him.
He’s refined-looking but likely has a foul temper.
Really.