The Court Maiden's Prince

The gates of Pyongchaek trembled beneath the weight of unrest. A mass of people pressed against iron and timber, their voices rising in uneven unison. Torches flickered against the walls, their flames reflected in the polished armor of palace guards standing in rigid formation. “Depose the King!” A stone struck against a helmet with a sharp c***k. No order was given to retaliate. Not yet. Among the crowd were men who had once bowed to the throne, women who had once prayed for its prosperity, and children who now clung to them in hunger. Their anger did not burn without cause—it had been nurtured, quietly, over time. And now, it has found its voice. “Bring forth the royal court!” Within the palace walls, that voice arrived only as a distant echo—faint, carried by the wind, and easily ignored. Beyond the outer courts, where unrest could not yet reach, the palace lake remained undisturbed. Its surface reflected the afternoon sky with near-perfect clarity, as though the world beyond its borders did not exist. Atop the wooden bridge that stretched across its length sat two princes. Prince Kim Young-Sik, the younger of the two, shifted restlessly where he sat. His small hands tightened around the fishing rod as his patience wore thin. “Hyung… we have been here for a long while. Not a single fish has taken the bait… and this bridge grows uncomfortable.” Beside him, Prince Kim Man-Ju did not look away from the water. “You speak too much. Even the fish have fled from your voice.” Young-Sik let out a quiet groan, one hand drifting to his stomach. “It is already past midday… would it not be wise to return? Surely, the palace kitchens have prepared something far better than what we hope to catch.” Man-Ju cast him a glance. “It is precisely because you think this way that you must remain. This is not idleness—it is a discipline. One day, it may serve you.” Young-Sik lowered his head, unconvinced. From beyond the palace grounds, carried faintly by the wind— a distant shout. He lifted his gaze, his grip on the rod loosening. “Did you hear that?” Man-Ju did not respond at once. “…The wind carries many sounds. Pay it no mind.” Young-Sik hesitated, then gave a small nod. Along the perimeter of the lake, guards passed in measured formation. Their presence was not unusual— But their number was. “Aren’t the two of you meant to be at your studies?” The voice came from behind them. Both princes stiffened. Young-Sik leaned closer to his brother, lowering his voice. “Hyung… I do not wish to look.” Man-Ju kept his gaze forward. “You are the younger. It is your place to obey.” Young-Sik shook his head firmly. A brief silence followed. Then— “If you will not honor me as your elder brother,” the voice continued, calm yet resolute, “then you will do so as your Crown Prince.” The two princes rose at once and bowed deeply. “Your Highness.” Crown Prince Kim Seo-Joon stood behind them. Clad in blue robes bearing the dragon insignia, he carried himself with quiet authority. Yet his gaze, if only for a brief moment, moved past them— toward the outer walls. Toward something unseen. Then it returned. Without further remark, he reached forward and seized each of them lightly by the ear. The protest that followed was immediate—though restrained. “You will return to your instructor,” Seo-Joon said. “Your lessons have already been delayed.” He released them into the care of the eunuchs waiting nearby. “Ensure that they complete their studies. When they are finished, bring them to my residence.” “Yes, Your Highness.” As they were led away, Seo-Joon remained where he stood. The wind carried another distant cry. This time, he did not turn toward it. Consort Eri awaited them at the villa. Her posture was composed, though her displeasure was evident. “You have kept your instructor waiting,” she said. “Such disregard is unbecoming.” Man-Ju stepped forward and bowed. “This son asks for forgiveness. We lost track of time.” “You will not allow it to happen again.” “Yes, Mother.” She inclined her head toward the entrance. “Enter. Your lessons will begin at once.” The boys turned to obey— —but her hand closed around Young-Sik’s wrist. He stilled. “And where do you intend to go?” “…With Hyung, Mother.” Her gaze sharpened. “It is you who leads him astray. You bring disorder where there should be discipline.” Young-Sik’s eyes lowered, his composure faltering. His fingers curled slightly at his side. A tear slipped free. Consort Eri let out a quiet scoff. “Do you believe such displays will move me?” Her hand rose. Young-Sik flinched. “But it moves me.” The words fell like a blade. All present lowered themselves immediately. Queen Min-Ah stood at the threshold. Her black and gold robes marked her station unmistakably. She did not raise her voice—she did not need to. “Consort Eri,” she said, “you presume much.” “Your Majesty… I intended no harm.” “And yet your actions suggest otherwise.” The Queen stepped forward, each movement measured. “The child you raise your hand against is mine.” Silence pressed heavily upon the space. “You would do well to remember your place.” Consort Eri bowed lower. “This servant will not forget again.” The Queen turned— then paused. “If discipline is to be carried out within these walls, it will be done under my authority.” A final glance. “I trust I have made myself clear.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” Only after she departed did the tension ease. Consort Eri straightened slowly. Her expression, though composed— was no longer gentle.