Even in broad daylight, the fire was fierce. Whether it was night or day didn’t matter—what mattered wasn’t the backdrop but the blaze itself. Just as fire is always fire and light is always light, I would always be myself.
It was the same for everyone.
At the cry of “Fire!” the people in the manor gathered in the courtyard. If the flames spread to other buildings, everyone could perish together. There were servants, soldiers, other members of Namakseong’s household, and the escorts I’d brought with me.
Among them, a man in particularly fine silk clothing stood out, but his face was unfamiliar. Sensing my gaze, he quickly turned his head and slipped into the crowd.
I watched the scene unfold, then approached the gathering. There was no need to hurry—more eyes on me meant better impact. Appearing after the crowd had assembled would be more effective.
As I stepped forward, those who recognized me bowed their heads.
“What’s going on here?” I exclaimed loudly, ensuring everyone could hear.
The people in the courtyard wore anxious expressions. Servants frantically carried water to douse the flames, but the building was already engulfed, and the fire didn’t seem likely to die easily.
No one answered my shout. It was half a rhetorical outburst, but I’d expected at least one response. I joined the servants, pretending to help extinguish the fire. My actions were more for show, but I put in noticeable effort.
“Your Highness!” a worker in front of me said, looking nervous, clearly wanting to stop me.
“If you have something to say, say it, but putting out the fire comes first,” I snapped, snatching the water bucket from him.
“Your Highness, this isn’t work for you!” he protested.
“Who says who does it matters? The priority is to put out the fire and minimize damage!” I retorted.
The worker’s eyes wavered. Stammering, he opened and closed his mouth, then bowed deeply and hurried off, likely to fetch another bucket.
“Your Highness, there’s no need for this,” Gaeyeohwa said, stepping forward to dissuade me from joining the servants. She must have wondered why I was mingling with them.
“It’s not lowly work. Your father wouldn’t want you doing manual labor either, would he?” I said.
I shook my head.
“Does it matter who puts out the fire when it’s urgent?”
“Your safety is the priority! Please leave this to the others and stay back!” she urged.
At that, several onlookers joined Gaeyeohwa, raising their voices.
“Your Highness, please let the others handle the fire!”
“Your safety is what matters most to us!”
I turned to face them, meeting their eyes one by one but saying nothing. Then I resumed carrying water alongside the servants.
“Your Highness, it’s dangerous!” they cried.
“Enough!”
“I’m being watched.”
There was no one of higher status than me. If I was out here fighting the fire, how could they just stand by? Even those who’d only shouted for me to stop had no choice but to join in. Reluctantly, they approached.
In the end, everyone—high and low, even those in fine silk—rolled up their sleeves and focused on dousing the flames.
Just then, the Lord of Namakseong came running, panting heavily.
“Your Highness!” he called.
His face looked grim, almost as if he’d swallowed poison.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
As he approached, the people extinguishing the fire parted like a receding tide. I set down my water bucket.
“Even a king doesn’t want to see his territory burn,” I said, nodding.
“You must feel uneasy seeing me like this.”
“I heard about the fire and came to check on Your Highness’s safety, but you weren’t at the manor,” he said.
I replied magnanimously, “I went for a walk without telling anyone, so you must have been searching for me.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness,” he stammered.
His gaze dropped to the bucket I’d set down. I picked it up again and raised it.
“It won’t take long to put out the fire,” I said.
“No, Your Highness! There’s no need for you to do this. Please, stay safe. This isn’t the time to risk injury!” he pleaded.
I put on a deliberately sheepish tone. “I know I’m not much help. My apologies.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant! Please don’t take it that way!” he said, flustered.
That was enough acting. The fire’s momentum was starting to wane. I set the bucket back down.
As I stepped back from the burning building, the Lord of Namakseong visibly relaxed. He must have been genuinely worried I’d get hurt.
In truth, getting injured wouldn’t have been a bad outcome. If a prince were harmed in his territory, the blame could fall on him, making it easier to deal with Gaeyeohwa.
“Should I have gotten a bit singed on purpose?” I thought.
But the opportunity had passed. If I wanted to get hurt, I should’ve acted earlier.
“Let me ask again, what are you doing, Your Highness?” he said, his tone cautious.
“What do I look like I’m doing?” I replied, spreading my arms.
I was covered in soot, but otherwise unscathed.
“You look fine, so set your worries aside,” I said.
“My apologies,” he replied.
I nodded repeatedly, then asked something seemingly out of the blue, though I knew it wasn’t.
“Who’s that over there?” I said, pointing with my index finger at the man in fine green silk among the crowd of servants, workers, and soldiers.
The Lord of Namakseong flinched, as if caught off guard, and hesitated.
I pressed to ensure he couldn’t dodge the question. “The man in the green silk robe.”
“He’s my cousin,” he said.
“That’s a terrible lie,” I thought.
Trying to hide it was pointless—he’d be found out soon enough. Instead of scolding him, I responded casually.
“Oh, is that so?” I said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Then why not introduce us, Lord? Your friend is here, and not even a greeting? Is that proper?”
I raised my voice with a smile.
If he’d avoided me entirely, I might not have noticed, but now it was obvious.
The Lord of Namakseong met my gaze, his own faltering, as if he’d been caught lying.
“You must be shaken. Let’s rest and talk later,” I said, turning toward my quarters.
“Your Highness,” a voice called.
Covered in soot, I was about to change when Heoseokgyeom called out to me. Though it was Heoseokgyeom who spoke, Yugyeom was with him.
“Captain Heo, what’s this about?” I asked.
Heoseokgyeom’s expression was stiff, and Yugyeom didn’t seem to have come for any particular reason.
“What are you doing?” Heoseokgyeom asked.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Why does everyone keep asking what I’m doing?” I said. “Do I need to gather everyone and make a speech?”
“I’m fine, as you can see,” I added.
“Forgive me, but seeing you doesn’t confirm your safety,” Heoseokgyeom said.
I grinned exaggeratedly. “Do I need to strip down to prove I’m unharmed? How embarrassing.”
Heoseokgyeom faltered slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” I said.
Heoseokgyeom wasn’t the type to play along with jokes, so teasing him wasn’t much fun.
“Did you come to check if I’m safe? I saw you carrying a bucket earlier,” I said.
“Yes, I was,” he replied.
I nodded without much thought. “And you didn’t check on yourself?”
Heoseokgyeom looked even more flustered.
“I’m fine,” he said.
I turned my gaze to Yugyeom. “I saw you carrying a bucket too.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Yugyeom replied.
I asked him the same question. “Are you fine?”
Yugyeom looked startled. “Yes, Your Highness, I’m fine.”
I didn’t understand why asking if they were okay was such a big deal, or why they were so flustered, but I let it slide.
Heoseokgyeom finally got to the point. “The Sukmuryang Clan has been secretly visiting Namakseong, Your Highness.”
His words made me pause, my brow furrowing.
“Who’s telling me this?” I asked.
Heoseokgyeom was the one who’d been pressing me to act quickly, even just days ago, despite the fire.
“And?” I prompted.
“What?” he replied, frowning at my response.
“You came to report that?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, answering plainly. It was an oddly straightforward report.
“Confirmed,” I said.
“What?” he replied.
“Nothing,” I said.
I said “confirmed,” but I didn’t mean it approvingly.
It was surprising that Heoseokgyeom knew who the Lord of Namakseong’s guest was. Then again, he’d spent years in the palace, so he likely knew many notable figures. Perhaps the Sukmuryang Clan frequented the palace library or similar places.
Or maybe the guest was a well-known figure.
“The Sukmuryang Clan,” I repeated.
I didn’t know much about them.
Yugyeom spoke up. “They’re a branch of the Woo family.”
That was unexpected.
If he mentioned the Woo family without further explanation, he likely meant the family of Queen Woo, the maternal relatives of the Second Prince, Jaemand aegun.
“I see. So the Lord of Namakseong was scheming with them,” I said, letting out a hollow laugh.
“But that aside,” I continued.
In truth, I didn’t fully understand the situation.
“So, why are you and Heoseokgyeom telling me who the Lord of Namakseong’s guest is and who they’re connected to?” I asked.
“What’s the reason?”
“The Sukmuryang Clan—are they a famous group everyone but me knows about?” I pressed.
I paused for a moment, then went silent.
“Am I the only one out of the loop?” I asked.
At that, Heoseokgyeom and Yugyeom’s expressions grew subtle. They shared a similar look, as if they were in on something together.
It felt like, despite the three of us talking, I was the odd one out.
What was this sense of exclusion?
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded.
“My apologies,” they said in unison.
“Apologizing doesn’t explain anything,” I said.
Their response was as good as admitting they were hiding something.
It felt like being made a fool. I hadn’t felt this way since my days in Hyeolunseong, mocked by my brothers.
“What? What’s going on?” I pressed.
But neither answered.
Finally, I snapped. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
They still didn’t respond.
“What does this mean, exactly?” I demanded.