Son Cheongeum, the Lord of Wolhanseong, stared at the empty head seat in the meeting room. Outwardly calm, her mind was in turmoil.
How to salvage this situation?
She slowly turned to Sonkyedu, her frozen mind barely forming the thought.
“It seems you want that. If you can’t trust me, it’s obvious you wouldn’t entrust me with such important matters.”
She spoke.
Even a minor lord would be upset by such an insult, let alone a mad prince.
Glaring at Sonkyedu, Son Cheongeum clenched her fists, her hands trembling from the force.
Even if you hate me, this…
Her fists shook, pushed to their limit.
“This isn’t for the people. How can someone in a leader’s position act so pettily?”
He must be trying to oust her from the lordship.
To Sonkyedu, the people suffering from monster attacks were mere pawns for his downfall.
What frustrated her more was the lack of active support. She’d realized many elders were swayed by Sonkyedu’s sharp tongue, but not to this extent. Her position was shakier than she’d thought.
Had her efforts to protect the people and combat monsters earned her the elders’ disdain? If this continued, she’d be driven out. If so…
If the offended prince left Bukgye, Wolhanseong would face the monsters alone, without aid.
Even if the prince protested the insult, Wolhanseong’s direct loss wouldn’t be great. The Son clan was untouchable, even by the king. For a monarch, clashing with a powerful lord was burdensome.
But regarding aid from the capital, the story changed. If the prince returned and said Wolhanseong needed no troops, there’d be nothing left to do.
Without help, their meager forces couldn’t handle the monsters. Subjugation was a dream, and the situation would fester, causing great harm.
They might barely survive, but reinforcing troops would be impossible. Soon, the city would face repeated crises.
If Wolhanseong’s situation worsened, they could oust the Lord. Deposing a clan leader in a great house wasn’t common, but it happened.
To bring me down, he’d sell the people’s lives?
Sonkyedu’s intentions were clear. He’d always seen her as a thorn.
But a thorn? The roles were reversed. She should be the one scoffing.
The first qualification for a lord was supernatural ability.
The second was being a direct Son clan member.
Both met the second, but Sonkyedu lacked the first.
He’d groveled, unable to even light a spark.
Not Son Cheongeum.
She recalled the day she was named heir.
“It’s a lie! She can’t have the ability! You know I’m my father’s son, and she’s just…”
Sonkyedu, a direct heir, lacked the ability she, a branch member, possessed.
“There’s no mistake. All authority as Lord of Wolhanseong is now Son Cheongeum’s.”
No one was more suited.
She’d lived subdued—or pretended to—because she was a branch member. Her victory.
How satisfying.
But…
“That’s not what I meant. I caused a misunderstanding.”
Sonkyedu spoke.
So brazen. Mad? Son Cheongeum gritted her teeth, her fists trembling as if to smash his face.
“So, what do you think, Lord?”
Ye-kyeong turned to her. She flinched, struck like lightning, but kept her composure.
How to sway the mad prince’s heart?
His unyielding expression intimidated her, even if she offered empty words.
What to do? Find a weakness?
Then a voice spoke.
“May I speak?”
Why Hondon, suddenly?
Doesn’t he keep quiet in such settings?
Though rare, Hondon was a key figure, his status no less than the elders’.
He was from Bukgye.
And closer to Son Cheongeum than Sonkyedu.
After a moment’s thought, she nodded.
“Speak.”
“You call His Highness a madman?”
If filth spilled, it’d stick. He had no shame.
“I spoiled that boy too much. Raised him unable to distinguish right from wrong. He stole His Highness’s sword, and now this disgrace. It’s my karma.”
The Lord felt her head heat up.
She should’ve banned the word “madman.”
Hondon continued.
“His Highness builds tents for soldiers. Calling him a madman doesn’t make sense.”
Son Cheongeum froze at his words.
“He helped a fallen herb gatherer stand.”
Hondon’s youthful face didn’t seem to lie. He wasn’t that type.
“He visited me faithfully in my cave cell.”
Even she hadn’t heard this, but picturing Ye-kyeong caring for others wasn’t hard.
“So why a madman? They say that in the capital, but why? I don’t understand.”
No one answered. Son Cheongeum glanced at the prince. He wore a faint, amused smile, observing.
He didn’t seem upset, at least not as much as before.
Not the worst outcome?
Hondon stared at Sonkyedu. His young, honest eyes looked fierce.
“Did Elder Sonkyedu say something wrong?”
Sonkyedu’s face twisted. His allied elders stayed silent.
Unnecessary conflict wasn’t good, even for Hondon.
Family ties mattered more in Bukgye than reason. Crossing elders wasn’t wise, even for Son Cheongeum.
Hondon wasn’t thoughtless, so why act this way?
“I only spoke the truth.”
At that, Ye-kyeong snorted, the sound echoing in the tense room.
Absurd.
But he didn’t dwell on Sonkyedu’s words.
“I don’t know if Hondon speaks for the Lord, but since this meeting is stalled because of me, I’ll let it pass.”
Ye-kyeong spoke.
Either he didn’t care to make a fuss, or he planned to return to the capital quietly. One of the two.
As a lord, she had to smooth things over.
“I’ll arrange another meeting with Your Highness. Please forgive us.”
Yu Geung was fuming.
“Stay calm and listen.”
“Your Highness.”
I patted Yu Geung’s back as he huffed, heading to my quarters, when the Lord approached.
“I beg your pardon.”
She bowed immediately.
“I have no excuse.”
She hadn’t done wrong herself. Why she didn’t stop it, I don’t know.
Was this an offer to help? I thought I’d dispelled her bad impression of me.
My mistake?
If so, truly regrettable.
Not a pleasant time.
But the Lord apologized with a darkened face.
“Don’t feel ashamed. I’ve no face to show.”
Not quite that serious.
Yu Geung cut in.
“Don’t feel ashamed, Your Highness.”
What?
“It’s unforgivable.”
Is that so?
I looked back and spoke.
“The more I think, the worse it feels.”
“No words can excuse this.”
In the capital, I’d drag anyone insulting me to the wall. But Wolhanseong’s power meant a mere insult couldn’t bring consequences.
It’s practically autonomous. Hard to drag someone for punishment or order it. Throwing a fit over an insult would just brand me a madman here too.
Better to…
Well, since the Lord apologizes, her view doesn’t align with the insult I received.
“I’ve no excuse.”
“Trust needs to grow.”
If she thought otherwise, why apologize?
Clearly, some elders leaned toward remorse.
Is the madman rumor the only reason? Not a great situation.
But fortunately, the Lord seems friendly.
She spoke hesitantly but sincerely.
“I’ve never thought of Your Highness that way.”
“Different from the rumors?”
I smirked, and she replied, tension easing.
“Words passed mouth to mouth distort easily. How could the people of the capital, who’ve never met Your Highness, believe those rumors?”
Whether sincere or not, I hoped it was.
I nodded. Behind me, Yu Geung fumed, but…
No need to dwell. The Lord’s words dispelled my fatigue.
I returned to my quarters. Getting insulted before noon was twice as exhausting.
At the hall’s entrance, a servant spotted me, waiting.
“Y-Your Highness, I’ve something to say.”
He handed me a letter.
Eyeing him suspiciously, I opened it. The sender’s identity was written on one side.
Sonkyedu.