Chapter 34: A Seer’s Gambit

Namakseong’s lord turned to Gaeyeohwa, then back to me, his gaze shifting between us. His face stiffened slightly.

He looked troubled.

“You speak of my second daughter?” he asked.

I nodded, my face likely flushed. I tried to calm my churning emotions, but despite my efforts, I felt uneasy.

It was just an act to achieve my goal, but the shame of such pretense was harder to bear than I’d imagined.

“Hahaha, I believe this is the first time Your Highness has seen my daughter,” he said, probing.

Should I admit it was a lie and flee? I wanted to, but then my eyes met Gaeyeohwa’s.

She didn’t look away, clearly scrutinizing me.

“Hey, you!” I muttered, clenching my fists under the table after a moment’s hesitation.

“Love at first sight,” I said.

I’d thought it wasn’t such a bad line, despite how cliché it sounded, but the words wouldn’t come out easily.

“You there,” I stammered.

As I hesitated, the lord narrowed his eyes.

But I didn’t need to lie further.

Gaeyeohwa, who’d been silent, stepped into the conversation.

“You mean you took a liking to me the moment you saw me, Your Highness?” she said softly, her tone different from when she’d introduced herself earlier.

Her eyes sparkled.

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” I said, clearing my throat awkwardly.

She knelt on the floor, bowing deeply—not to me, but to the lord.

“Father,” she said.

His brow furrowed slightly at her sudden prostration.

“Speak,” he said after a pause.

“Your Highness’s gracious words overwhelm me,” she said. “If the Grand Prince has taken a liking to me, I’m unworthy to join him. I fear my lowly status has caused a misunderstanding. I wish to confess my shortcomings to His Highness and ease his heart. This situation is my fault, and I believe it’s right to take responsibility.”

“What?” I said, startled.

“Wait a moment,” the lord interjected.

“I beg you, please allow my request,” she said, her head nearly touching the floor.

I was stunned.

Gaeyeohwa bowed low, while her sister observed calmly, and the lord glanced nervously at me despite her bold words.

They weren’t a harmonious family, but that wasn’t what unsettled me.

Gaeyeohwa.

She was sharp.

She’d met me secretly and told me, “I’ve never seen someone curse so well in my life!”

She’d read the note, cursed me, muttered incomprehensible words, then railed against Namakseong’s lord, saying it was like a ghost had appeared.

“I was terrified listening to her!” she’d said.

She’d been so shaken the previous night.

Of course, she might’ve exaggerated. Gonjo had said he’d lived mostly in the palace, so if palace folk were his standard, he’d be shocked by street life.

Palace speech differed from commoners’, after all.

Still, her venomous words were undeniable.

And now she was acting like this?

No matter her personality, I’d take her cooperation, but the Gaeyeohwa Gonjo described and the one before me didn’t align.

Her outward and inner selves were worlds apart.

Even so, what I saw now seemed excessive. Too different from the truth.

I couldn’t be sure if this was her true self.

Was it an act?

Would revealing my intentions now cause trouble, or would it work out?

If we grew close enough to share truths, that’d be ideal. She was someone I needed—being friendly wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Like with Yu Geung.

But even if I wanted her as an ally, she wasn’t like Shin Gwiryeong. That one, I didn’t feel close to at all.

The lord responded, his expression far from grim.

“I understand your loyalty,” he said warmly.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he added abruptly.

It felt like a performance.

He wouldn’t have lied to me so blatantly, so I was certain it was true.

A person like her, bowing to me?

I could barely stifle a laugh.

She’d cursed her adopted father without hesitation, hadn’t she?

“It’s hard for a father to refuse when my daughter speaks thus,” the lord said, bowing deeply.

“I wish to honor her request, so please don’t be angry,” he added.

Like father, like daughter?

Gonjo had said she seemed full of resentment, but maybe not.

Her discontent with her situation suited me better. I’d rather she didn’t yearn for happiness.

If Namakseong’s lord had welcomed me so warmly, and she’d reacted like this…

I reached out, grasping his bowed shoulder.

“How could I not accept your request? How could I refuse? I only wish for our trust to deepen. Your words don’t anger me—raise your head,” I said.

He lifted his head immediately.

“Your Highness,” he said.

His sudden, troubled reaction didn’t feel genuine.

I waved my hand.

“Since Lady Gaeyeohwa has something to say, I’ll hear her out,” I said. “But her character and qualities are my purpose. You can’t change that.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” he said, bowing again, this time in acknowledgment.

No longer hiding his boredom, he glanced at Gaeyeohwa’s sister, who’d been watching. He left, leaving me and Gaeyeohwa alone.

As the door closed and silence fell, Gaeyeohwa raised her head, standing.

I spoke awkwardly, “I’m curious what Lady Gaeyeohwa has to say.”

It was a brief exchange, and we’d stood throughout, but the room had a round table and chairs. I pulled one out and gestured.

“Will you sit?” I asked.

“I’m honored, Your Highness,” she said, not hesitating.

I sat across from her at the round table, as far as possible.

I leaned on my elbow, hands clasped.

“Let’s see how bad a person Lady Gaeyeohwa is,” I said.

Would this fail and waste my time?

She’d become a strategist cherished by Duke Mungong in the future. Thinking I might lose her now brought tears to my eyes.

But what could I do? It was my fault.

What had I done?

The bitterness of failure lingered.

Then her gaze changed.

“I was raised as Namakseong’s lord’s adopted daughter, wanting for nothing,” she said.

What was this? What should I say?

“Yet something remains unfulfilled,” she continued.

A veiled look.

“Grand Prince Ikwon, Your Highness,” she said.

The look I’d seen when facing danger was now before me.

“I beg you, grant me a chance,” she said.

Reading the forged letter last night, she’d thought, He’s playing me.

The first prince, a notorious wastrel.

That wastrel had seen through her first.

It was the most absurd confession she’d ever heard.

And yet.

“I already know,” she said.

“This…”

“Your Highness has a different kind of interest in me, don’t you?” she asked.

It was true.

It could be called a love letter, in a way.

“A different kind of interest?” I echoed.

She nodded carefully, very carefully.

Saying this wasn’t easy.

No one in Namakseong, or anywhere, saw this wastrel prince like she did.

He might destroy her world with a single reckless act.

But she believed.

She chose to believe.

Her belief had grounds.

Her adopted father, Namakseong’s lord, was well-regarded outwardly, but she couldn’t see him as good.

There were always exceptions.

Perhaps this wastrel prince might not be so bad to her.

That’s what she thought.

And it was different.

The wastrel prince of rumor was far from the man she saw.

Last evening, she’d heard he’d dined with her adopted father. She’d asked the maids, who said he’d dismissed courtesans, refused wine, and remained courteous.

Seizing a chance, she’d followed her father.

She didn’t believe the wastrel’s claim of love at first sight.

She prided herself on not being foolish enough to fall for such a lie.

“Your Highness,” she said.

I showed unease.

Her certainty grew.

“A different kind of interest,” she repeated.

A vague response.

“What kind?” I asked.

Her conviction deepened, her heart swelling.

No matter how notorious, a prince had insight beyond ordinary people.

Perhaps.

Having foreseen countless futures, she wouldn’t pick a wrong one.

“Do you need me, Your Highness?” she asked.