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Chapter Text

Cheoljong slams a scroll on the table. The sound is loud and harsh in the quiet winter morning. 

Next to him, the eunuch jumps in surprise. “Is there a problem, Your Majesty?” 

Cheoljong shakes his head and stares at the stack of scrolls on his table. 

“Why don’t I get you some refreshments, and maybe tea? It will help you relax,” the eunuch offers kindly. “Besides, you haven't yet eaten anything today.”

The eunuch has come a long way. Somewhere between the explosion at the banquet, and Cheoljong's brief journey to the encampment, he has earned the eunuch's loyalty. His trust. 

He hopes to earn the same from his new council. From his people. 

Cheoljong gives the eunuch a thoughtful sideway glance. He isn’t hungry, but he decides to oblige him. “Alright, maybe a warm beverage would help," he says. “But first, can you get the rest of the appeals?”

His reply pleases the eunuch. He gives Cheoljong a reverent bow before leaving him alone in his cavernous chamber at Seonjeongjeon.

Cheoljong’s attention goes back to the few unread scrolls on his table. He has been reviewing each of his disgraced ministers’ wrongdoings. He could hardly believe the depth and pervasiveness of their atrocities. For while he has always known his ministers to be so devious, he didn’t realize how rotten his country has become. 

His wrathful thoughts are interrupted by the thud of doors opening. When he looks up, he sees Yeongpyeong and Hong saunter towards him. 

The first thing Cheoljong notices is his friends' relaxed gait. His brother’s movements are no longer as stiff and tense as they used to. While Hong –because he is Hong –moves with an unsurprising increase in swagger.  

Then, Cheoljong hears them squabble. That will never change, he surmises fondly. And yet, he could not think of better friends than Yeongpyeong and Hong to be at his side as he settles into ruling the country. 

“I deserve a few days off!” Hong grouses, giving Yeongpyeong a dramatic side-eye. “If you ask me, you do too. You look terrible! Perhaps a few days off will make you look more human…” He pauses dramatically, building up what Cheoljong anticipates to be a scathing punch line. “...less ogre.”

“And if you whine less, perhaps I’ll let you keep your head.” Yeongpyeong’s words are harsh but they hold no venom. A hint of humor flickers across his face. 

Cheoljong barely lifts his head, but he watches them from under his lashes. “You’re both here,” he says as they amble closer to the dais. “Isn’t it a little early for either of you?”

“That’s what I said! We have secured the palace and defeated our enemies,” Hong grumbles, throwing up his arms impatiently. “We should be sleeping undisturbed until noon!”

“The early bird eats the worm.” Yeonpyeong side-eyes Hong. “It’s good to be early.”

“Not if you’re the worm,” Hong retorts.

Yeongpyeong’s shakes his head in mild exasperation before turning to face Cheoljong. His expression turns serious. “Your Majesty, we’re off to mete out the punishment for the Dowager Queen Jo.” 

 “Alright,” Hong relents. “Maybe that ’s worth waking up for before sunrise.” He clasps his hands behind his back, his face curving up in a smug smile.

In contrast, Yeongpyeong squares his shoulders, his chin slightly juts forward. Cheoljong can feel the tension radiating off his skin. It isn’t apprehension, but perhaps restraint.

Cheoljong wonders again if the reason behind his brother’s demeanor is the former consort’s banishment from the Hanyang. Yeongpyeong has always blamed the Dowager Queen Jo for whispering poisonous ideas in Hwa Jin’s ear.  

Perhaps punishing the Dowager Queen Jo has pushed those old feelings up the surface.

Without saying a word, Cheoljong hands Yeongpyeong a scroll. The prince takes it immediately and unfurls it. 

Cheoljong  observes his brother as his eyes move up and down the scroll. He wonders if the look of wrath would feature on his brother’s face permanently. 

“This is her punishment?” Yeongpyeong asks in cold nonchalance. 

Cheoljong nods but remains silent. He waits patiently for his brother’s thoughts on the dowager queen’s punishment, but he hears none.

Hong leans closer to Hong and peeks at the scroll. “She will be exiled?” A self-satisfied grin splits his face.  “One less serpent in the palace garden.”

To Cheoljong's surprise, his brother smiles. The rare gesture softens the edges of his profile, rendering him almost . . . juvenile.  

“Let’s go!” Hong looks at Yeongpyeong and jerks his head toward the door. “The sooner we dole out these punishments, the sooner I can take a few days off.”

Yeongpyeong’s smile disappears into a peeved frown. He gives Hong a veritable stink-eye before turning his attention back to Cheoljong. “We should go, Your Majesty.”

“You really are no fun, Prince Yeongpyeong!” Hong declares derisively as he turns on his heel to follow Yeongpyeong. “All work and no fun makes Yeongpyeong a boring man.”

To his credit, Yeongpyeong smiles as he walks away. Then, as if he remembers something, he stops abruptly, and pivots to face Cheoljong once more. “Your Majesty…” he begins.

Cheoljong looks up from the scrolls again. He sees Yeongpyeong take a tentative step forward, looking almost unsure of himself. Now, that’s new , he muses.

“There is one other thing, Your Majesty.”  Yeongpyeong swallows. His eyes meet Cheoljong’s but he appears completely uncertain, almost fidgety. 

Even Hong looks surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor. He watches Yeongpyeong curiously, his eyes narrowed to slits. 

“What is it?” Cheoljong asks, straightening up.

“After…. After we deal with the Dowager Queens, I…. I would like to go… up north.” 

The question catches Cheoljong off guard that it takes him a few heartbeats to answer  “Up north?” Why would Yeongpyeong wish to go up north? “To what end?” 

“There is someone I wish to see.”

Cheoljong arches a brow in question. Then, something dawns on him. 

Not something. S omeone . Could it be….? “Is she up north?” Cheoljong ventures carefully.

Yeongpyeong’s expression does not change, except his eyes. They go from blank to beseeching. Then he nods non-committally as though he’s trying to be prudent with his words.

“Who? Who is up north?” Hong interjects, looking astonished and annoyed at the same time. 

“You’re keeping tabs on her.” Cheoljong declares without inflection, ignoring Hong.

“I was… I am.” 

Cheoljong has not heard from Hwa Jin for so long. At least not since that day in the dungeon when he walked away from her. Whether it is from honoring So Yong’s wishes, or from being preoccupied with palace intrigue, he cannot tell for sure. 

A tiny part of him feels guilty that he has not checked on her. But then again, sometimes, relationships are like books. Some are special enough to be remembered and reread –the fondest chapters reminisced– but for the most part, books remain on the shelves. 

And Hwa Jin will always be a fond chapter in Cheoljong’s past. She may even hold a special place in his heart. But like a finished book, there will no longer be new chapters to be read. 

Or to be explored. 

Fate has given him something better than a book. A fortune he would never question.

He smiles inwardly and realizes that oftentimes fate may seem so fickle. Until she binds your soul to another. 

Like he and So Yong.

Hong’s exasperated tsk interrupts his musings.

Yeongpyeong looks as though he's about to offer information about Hwa Jin. He clenches his jaw. "She is– 

“Then take as much time as you need,” Cheoljong tells Yeongpyeong kindly, deliberately talking over him. There isn't a need for him to know about Hwa Jin's whereabouts anymore.

And for a fraction of a moment, Cheoljong thought that, perhaps, Hwa Jin always belonged with Yeongpyeong. 

Just as he always belonged with So Yong. 

Hong gapes at him. Then at his brother. “Aren’t you two a little sanctimonious? You chide me for wanting a few days off… but here we are! His Majesty is pandering to the exact same request.” 

Both Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong ignore Hong. Something quiet passes between them, a type of wordless communication that only close siblings would understand. A weight Cheoljong didn’t realize he’s carrying, inexplicably eases itself off his shoulders. 

Yeongpyeong’s eyes soften, and when Cheoljong looks closely, he sees the beginnings of a smile.

Hong, close to a conniption, tsk-tsks a couple more times before he shakes his head in open disgust. “Oh your audacity is astounding, little prince! Demanding ‘as much time as you need’ just so you could go gallivanting up north!’

“You will have your opportunity to do your own… gallivanting ,” Cheoljong tells Hong in an attempt to pacify him. “When the queen is fully recovered, you are free to do as you please.” Like an afterthought, he adds, "But within reason."

“That's it then. I will never have the opportunity,” Hong snaps, emphasizing the word ‘never’. He lets out a loud breath, like he’s tempering a surge of anger. “Her Highness has officially asked me to manage a network of spies and plots.” 

“Oh did she? I did not realize you and the queen are now plotting together.” Cheoljong muses. 

Not that Hong’s pronouncement would surprise him. So Yong has always been quite fond of Hong, and Cheoljong knows the director holds So Yong in such esteemed regard. “Shall I ask the queen to rescind it?” Cheoljong cannot help but ask. His expression is serious, but his intention is not.  

“As a matter of fact she did ask me. What do you think we talked about while you were both away?” Hong heaves an irritated sigh. “And no, Your Majesty. You shall not ask Her Highness to rescind it.” 

Yeongpyeong shakes his head, visibly annoyed at Hong’s hysterics. Without another word, he bows and makes his way to the door. 

Hong glares at Yeongpyeong’s back as he walks away. “What a diva !” He mutters under his breath before following closely behind. He continues to badger the prince as they step out of Cheoljong’s chambers and into the bright hallway. 

They almost collide with the eunuch, who enters Seonjeongjeon just as they cross the doorway. They can be heard tussling down the hall, long after the doors to Cheoljong’s chambers have closed.

Cheoljong drops his head in hands. He may have the most loyal friends, but they are a bickering handful sometimes.

“Your Majesty,” the eunuch says in greeting as he approaches the dais. He carefully puts down a tray of scrolls on the table. 

Cheoljong sighs, eyeing the tray– one scroll precariously wedged in between two other scrolls. There has to be at least twenty more scrolls that require his attention. 

He lifts the scroll that is dangerously close to toppling over and unfurls it, but the writing blurs before his eyes. The memory of Kim Mun Geun dying rears again. 

Your Majesty, I beg you. My daughter…. never make her feel alone. Never make her feel unloved. Promise me, the queen’s father begged him. His dying words are for her daughter.

And then, another memory forces itself before Cheoljong’s eyes. One that is equally grievous.

“Your Majesty…. My father?” So Yong asked Cheoljong weakly.

He shook his head, feeling completely powerless. "Let's worry about you first," he pleaded.

“Where is he?” 

“Your father is gone,” he wanted to say, but the words died in his lips. "He's fighting...just like you are," he found himself saying instead, his own voice cracking.  

Guilt is an old friend, but it raged against Cheoljong like a tempest. He should have not waited so long to tell So Yong about her father’s untimely demise. 

You were trying to protect her, the guilt reminds him. Her convalescence is more important. 

But the reminders do nothing to assuage his guilt. Or his longing.

“Your Majesty,” the eunuch ventures. His voice interrupts Cheoljong’s thoughts, his words hesitant. “A coin for your thoughts?”

Cheoljong looks up and sees a knowing smile unfurl on the eunuch’s face.

“It is upside down,” the eunuch tells him, gesturing at the scroll in his hand. "You seem distracted, Your Majesty."

Cheoljong sighs a deep, weary sigh of frustration. He rolls the scroll and sets it back on the tray.  “I wish to see the queen so much that it is so difficult to focus.”

In truth, Cheoljong has not seen So Yong for only a few days, but it feels like an eternity to him. 

Joseon needs to be rebuilt, and all his energy is spent on doing just that– rebuilding, reorganizing and restructuring. He hasn’t had time for much else. So Yong included.

After purging his council of all unscrupulous court officials, he was preoccupied with the selection and appointment of new ministers. 

He has immediately tasked them with assessing and addressing every single appeal and accusation leveled at their respective remits. He demands accountability, and he expects to be apprised of their actions regularly.

He is antsy. He is anxious. He needs everything re-energized. He detests the current condition of his country and he keeps challenging his own council to initiate change. 

He wants to realize his dream of a new Joseon. It is a massive undertaking but it will be his legacy.  

“You have been working too hard the last few days, Your Majesty. Perhaps these can wait? ” The eunuch motions at the scrolls, breaking into Cheoljong’s reverie. “I understand that Her Highness has fully recuperated. Why don’t His Majesty take a break and pay Her Highness a visit?”

Cheoljong considers the eunuch’s suggestion; the queen is in fact due a visit. More importantly, he’s uncertain how long he can keep a tight lid on Kim Mun Geun’s death. While he has ordered the news to be kept from So Yong, he knows the news could easily spill from someone's lips, especially with servants and soldiers milling about in the palace. 

He must tell So Yong before she hears the truth from someone else, like Kim Hwan– the Kim with the kindest heart and, unfortunately, the loosest lips. 

And yet, regardless of Kim Hwan’s penchant for spilling the beans, Cheoljong has grown rather fond of the queen’s quirky cousin. So much so, that he thought long and hard about how to reward Kim Hwan. 

In the end, Cheoljong gave Kim Hwan a government post, one of Kim Hwan’s own choosing– an officer within Hong’s spy organization. 

Hong was hesitant about Kim Hwan joining his espionage network, and rightfully so. But Cheoljong was adamant. Kim Hwan has proven his worth. He is neither astute nor agile but Kim Hwan’s loyalty to So Yong is unparalleled. Unassailable even. 

Sometimes, true believers trump trained soldiers.

A part of Cheoljong is comforted by Kim Hwan’s choice, mostly because the post Hong gave him keeps him in Hanyang. With Kim Mun Geun gone and Kim Byeong In missing, Cheoljong was desperate for So Yong to have family around. 

As the word “family” grazes his mind, an image of a dying Kim Mun Geun comes to him again. Is the queen’s father reminding him to see his queen… from the beyond?

“You’re absolutely right!” Cheoljong fake-enthused, jumping to his feet. “I will deal with these–”
He gestures at the furled documents–  “after I see my queen.”

—

Meanwhile, at Daejojeon.

“Your Highness!” comes a familiar vibrant greeting so early in the morning. 

Two sets of footsteps rumble across So Yong’s sleeping chambers. The first person—Hong Yeon—kneels beside her. “How are you feeling today?” she asks with an enthusiasm enough to rival the energy of spring.   

So Yong sits up and rubs her eyes with her hands. She feels the cold as soon as she pushes the heavy silk blankets away. 

The second set of footsteps halts beside her. Lighter. More refined steps. “I’m glad you are fully recovered, Your Highness,” Lady Choi chirps. The court lady looks at her with kind eyes, as though So Yong is a delicate flower blown about by the winds.

In truth, So Yong has recuperated rather quickly, but the physician, who she suspects is under strict orders from the king, has ordered her to stay in bed a few more days. 

She is, however, planning to go rogue today. Lying in bed only makes her sick. She needs to feel the warm sunshine on her face,  the wind on her skin. 

She wants to celebrate their hard-fought freedom and triumph. What is the point of defeating your enemies if your time is squandered on self-exile? 

But first, she must seek Cheoljong. She didn’t just lounge in bed the last few days, she came up with a list of petitions that require a king’s approval. 

Petition . It provides a nice segue into seeing Cheoljong. She chuckles at the thought. Is she back to finding petty reasons to catch a glimpse of the king? 

She marvels at how far she and Cheoljong have come– from adversaries to allies. And then to something that has come to mean more to her than anything else in the world. 

The progress may have been slow, but her heart always knew –always believed–  that Cheoljong is not some juvenile obsession born of a fleeting fancy. It is a love that anchors her–  ardent and assured. 

A love for always. For as long as she is Kim So Yong.

It could be a hundred years. It could be a week. 

Or it could extend into the afterlife.

But regardless of how long or short it would be, So Yong’s for always belongs with one person only– Cheoljong. 

“Your highness, what are you thinking about?” Hong Yeon’s sing-songy voice intrudes on her silent soliloquy. 

That’s when So Yong realizes that Hong Yeon and Lady Choi have been rambling about recent events in the palace. She also sees something in Hong Yeon’s hand. It looks like a crumpled sheet of paper. 

“What’s that in your hand, Hong Yeon?”

“Oh yes, this!” Hong Yong exclaims, opening up her palm to show the folded paper to So Yong. “Someone dropped this today. It is for you.” 

“Who dropped it off?”

Hong Yeong shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

“Is it a letter?” she asks, inspecting it. There is nothing written on the outside but looks like it has been folded and unfolded a few times. There is no indication that it was written for her, but whoever dropped it off, knew how to find her. 

Who would write her a letter? 

It is most certainly not Cheoljong. He has access to paper better than the one in her hand. Besides, the king’s letters have always been neat and carefully tucked in an envelope. 

Curiosity getting the best of her, she unfolds what looks like a piece of parchment, the ink almost bleeding through the page. 

Perhaps my happiness is elsewhere. I am in search of it. 

I forgive you. I hope you forgive me too. 

And while I can always find you, it is not within my rights to do so. You are no longer lost, never will be. Someone else has found you. 

Be happy . 

So Yong is perplexed by the unsigned letter. She turns it over to inspect it further, but there are no other clues or hidden messages. 

Perhaps my happiness is elsewhere. I am in search of it. It is as though the letter was written by someone who left in search of an adventure. Someone who needs a change in scenery. Or perhaps someone who simply needs change. 

“I do not know who wrote it,” she offers as she meets Hong Yeon’s and Lady Choi’s curious glances. They both look as baffled as she is. 

I forgive you. I hope you forgive me too. So Yong finds the wording bizarre. She has been wronged by so many people lately but she cannot think of anyone who would ask for forgiveness, let alone make an effort to write her an anonymous letter.

She reads the letter once more. Twice more. 

While I can always find you. The words trigger a memory. I will always find you , someone swore to her once.  And then it dawns on her. 

Byeong In. 

Who else could it be? 

She smiles. I forgive you , she says quietly. Be happy, too. 

—

It is the same palace. The same courtyard. The same set of stones scattered around the path towards Daejojeon. But somehow everything is different to Cheoljong. The air seems crisper, more breathable. The skies are bluer. The sun is brighter. The colors of his surroundings are more vibrant. 

His brisk walk slows to a dawdle, his retinue mirroring his leisurely pace. When was the last time he took a stroll around the palace? 

Cheoljong’s steps halt, then he takes a long deep breath, savoring the winter chill. He turns to peer at Sonjeojeon, rising out of the foggy winter morning. How did he get here?  What was it that So Yong once told him? "You want full regency. You want respect. You want revenge...." 

She was not wrong.

He marvels at the recent turn of events. He defeated his enemies. He’s restored order in a country besieged by corruption. He purged the palace of all things rotten. Everything he fought for is finally in place. It would be a story he would share to those around him for years to come. He would even share it with his children one day.

But there is a hailstorm inside him that refuses to quiet.

He resumes his short walk to Daejojeon, his thoughts wandering off onto his queen once more. 

He takes another deep breath, the icy air chilling his lungs and prickling the inside of his nose. His cheeks and fingertips tingle with the first signs of numbness– not from the cold but from the news he’s about to break to her. Apprehension hammers through his chest. 

He finds So Yong just as she is about to leave her own chambers. He is just about to chide her for being out of bed when she meets his gaze and breaks into a smile, her face lighting up. There is a radiance about her. The vigor in her step is back and color has returned to her cheeks.

And her smile– dazzling, insouciant. Seeing her sparkling in the muted morning light makes Cheoljong’s heart stutter.  

“My Queen..” he begins but the rest of the words fall away. He missed seeing her like this– alive, jovial and delighted to see him. 

“I was just on my way to see you,” she declares, practically gliding as she takes a step towards him. The patterns of her green dangui glistens as she moves.

“Is that so?” Cheoljong cannot help the smile that spreads across his face, but he secretly looks for tell-tale signs of So Yong’s wound, unwilling to compromise on his wife’s welfare. Or his unborn child’s. But he sees only the gleam in her eyes. “Has the royal physician signed off on your… outing ?” he teases.

A mulish look forms on So Yong’s face. She lifts her chin in subtle provocation but her eyes are sparkling. “I am as fit as a fiddle, don’t you see?“  

Instead of offering So Yong platitudes, Cheoljong closes the distance between them and envelopes her in a warm embrace. He tries not to think about the horrible news he is about to break to her.

“Hmmmm” she says, sliding her arms around his waist. She rests her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes. 

“I'm glad you're okay,” he murmurs, running his hands down the sides of her dangui and back up to her shoulders, her neck, her face. He longs to exist in that moment forever.

So Yong draws back a little and cups his cheek, bringing his forehead down to rest against hers. There is a little smile playing around her mouth and Cheoljong finds himself smiling back. 

Keeping his hands on her waist, he dips his head and nuzzles her neck. Her skin prickles with the whisper of his breath on her ear. “I miss you,” he murmurs into her skin. 

She says something unintelligible to his ears; he only hears a muffled ‘hmmmmm.”

He kisses her then– soft and gentle– afraid she might not be well enough. He stops momentarily, but So Yong rises onto her tiptoes to meet his lips once more. She throws her arms around his neck, inching ever closer, and then they are kissing for real, his mouth moving slowly, thoroughly against hers.

When he pulls back, he sees his own longing reflected in her dark eyes. But something must be said of Kim Mun Geun’s passing. "I must tell you something," he says softly.

At about the same time she says, “There are a few things I must ask you… a petition , if you will.” Her tone, however, is far from asking . It sounds much closer to a directive. 

Cheoljong chuckles. Perhaps, he worries too much about her health. If she is strong enough to demand a few things –or to ask – as she puts it, then she must truly be recuperating well.  

“Tell me what is it that you demand ?” 

If So Yong is annoyed by his use of the word 'demand,' she doesn't show. Instead, she fixes Cheoljong determined look that makes Cheoljong wonder how much time she had spent deliberating her petitions. Or demands , for that matter. 

“First, court ladies must be allowed to marry.” She looks at Cheoljong meaningfully, making him wonder whether the request is borne out of affection for someone dear to her. 

She pauses as though she's mentally preparing for rejection. He can almost see a well-thought-out rebuttal on her face. 

“Go on, I’m listening,” he says cautiously, keeping his thoughts to himself. He is eager to hear the rest of her petitions before he comments on any of them.

“Second, you must allow widowers to do the same.” When Cheoljong remains silent, she continues. “Third, qualified women must be allowed in Director Hong’s espionage network.”

He arches a brow at the unorthodox request. “You want women to be spies?”

She nods. “We never could have welcomed you back to the palace, if it weren’t for Lady Choi and Hong Yeon. You have no idea what we women are capable of.”

In spite of himself, Cheoljong cracks a smile. He knows exactly what a particular woman can do. “Oh I know what you are capable of. What women can actually do, or achieve.” It isn’t lost on him how two strong women saved his life– So Yong and his mother. 

“Then you agree, Your Majesty?”

“It has never been done before,” Cheoljong replies carefully. It is not that he disagrees, but he’s weighing the queen’s recommendations in his head.

“You’re the king.” 

Cheoljong gives So Yong a questioning stare, unsure why she's stating an obvious fact. 

“It is within your rights as the king to set such precedents,” So Yong states matter-of-factly. He sees the passion behind her eyes, the desire to change things for the better.  “You are the king, Your Majesty. You can do anything you want, and there is no better time than now to start something new.” 

“I will speak to the council. It will take some convincing but, I’ll do the best I could,” he finds himself promising So Yong. “But you will need to speak to Hong about his spy ring.” 

“Oh it is not women joining Hong’s network that worries me,” she replies blithely. Then, a smirk appears on her face.  “It is him, joining women in missions. Do you think he can keep up?”

Cheoljong snickers at the sly overtone. “You will have to ask him that.” 

So Yong joins in the laughter, then her expression turns serious once more, as though she remembers something of great importance. “There is one other thing.” 

Cheoljong straightens, clasping his hands behind his back. He is instantly alert, recognizing the look on So Yong’s face: The stubborn set to her jaw. Her unblinking eyes. The rigid set of her shoulders.

It is reminiscent of the look she had given him when she said, “When I find those who went after me –and I will– I will decide their punishment.” 

That ended with Hwa Jin’s disgraceful exile. 

She also wore the same stubborn expression at the hideaway when she demanded he meet with the rebels while she journeys alone back to the palace. 

That ended with an arrow embedded in her back.

But Cheoljong also knows better than to question the queen’s actions, or the wisdom behind them.  When he finds his voice again, he sounds weary. Almost woeful.  “What is it? Tell me.”

She is quiet for a moment, watching Cheoljong. It takes all of him not to squirm, as the little ball of unease in his stomach, turns into a tangle of thorns.

“You must pass a law that forbids noblemen from hurting their servants.” There is an intensity to her gaze before she looks away.

Cheoljong is quiet, sensing she has more to say. 

When she speaks again, she sounds far away, as though her mind is elsewhere. “Your Majesty, I stand by my decision to punish Hwa Jin. But I do understand that while she has wronged me, her affection for you is the provenance of her treachery.”

That is the last thing Cheoljong expected the queen to say. Slack-jawed, he stares at her profile, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. 

So Yong turns to face him. “Perhaps, letting her suffer at the hands of a master might bring some semblance of justice, but it is one that springs from anger.” She takes a step towards Cheoljong, her eyes troubled. “We have been through so much these last few weeks, Your Majesty, that I no longer wish to be beholden by vengeance.”

“That’s…” Cheoljong finds himself in familiar territory– bested and befuddled by his queen’s wisdom. “Do you have any news about her?”

She shakes her head, her expression difficult for Cheoljong to read. “No, I do not. And I do not wish to hear any. But I have seen how how some nobles treat their servants.” Then she deigns Cheoljong a piercing glance. “She will be in exile for the remainder of her days, but her welfare, as with the well-being of all other servants in this country, deserve the protection of His Majesty.”

“It is a sound recommendation, My queen.” She’s truly a phenomenal woman, Cheoljong thought. A wise and just queen. A loving and loyal wife. “I will bring up all your recommendations in the next council meeting.”  

“That is very kind, Your Majesty,” So Yong says, way too formally. “Thank you.” And as though she realizes it, her face splits into an indulgent smile. “Speaking of council, tell me, how is it going at court, Your Majesty?” 

“I have reinstated the officials who were falsely accused. The power and influence of the Jo clan is no more.” He pauses momentarily to check on So Yong’s reaction. There is a thoughtful expression on her face, but it doesn’t give away her thoughts. “Your clan members have been purged and punished, and shall never be allowed to take any government posts again.”

“And The Dowager Queen Jo?” 

“Will be exiled. She is being read her punishment as we speak.”

“The Dowager Queen Sunwon?”

“I thought you might have some creative ideas,” Cheoljong smiles meaningfully. 

 A hint of a smile touches her lips. “And Kim Jwa Geun?”

“He will pay for his crimes…. among the living.”

“You allowed him to live, Your Majesty?” Her voice rises an octave.

“He doesn’t deserve the honor of death,” he says, pausing to gauge her reaction. “But he will wish for it every day.”

“Hmmmm..” is So Yong’s only response. It is a noncommittal hmmm and Cheojong wonders once more what she’s thinking. He thought Kim Jwa Geun’s punishment would at least please her, but she gives no indication of how she feels about it.

“So Yong-ah, there is something else I must tell you.”

So Yong looks up at Cheoljong with worried eyes. 

“Something happened.”

“Something happened?” she echoes with obvious trepidation. “Are you hurt?” 

“No–”

“Is it Kim Hwan?”

Cheoljong wraps an arm around So Yong and he buries his face in her hair, “First you must remember that I’m here, no matter what happens.” This time, So Yong doesn’t melt in his arms, she’s as stiff as a tree. Cheoljong pulls back a fraction. “Your father… he didn’t make it.”

“I don’t understand…” So Yong stammers, her face agonized and accusatory in a way Cheoljong has not seen before.  “What does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, So Yong-ah. Your father is gone.”

“I thought… You said he was fighting…” 

Her face is so close to his that he can see denial and sorrow warring in her eyes. “The physician couldn’t save him… It was too late. He bled too much.”

“No, that can’t be true,” she says, blanching. Her words are half sob, half slur as the syllables blend together. “No…” she grinds out as she crumples. 

Cheoljong hauls her closer as she cries big sobs, but he unravels at the sight of So Yong breaking before him. She has gone through so much the last few weeks but she never fell apart. Not when she faced off with Byeong In. Not when she stopped the execution of Hong and his loyal ministers. Not even when an arrow struck her. 

So Yong is a woman of the toughest mettle.

But at the news of her father's death, Cheoljong sees her breaking, sobbing sorrowfully, shoulders shaking.

His heart squeezes. Then it crashes through his chest like a sudden hailstorm. 

He could not stand the sight of his queen breaking.

“I don’t understand– I thought…” So Yong stammers. “You said, he was fighting for his life.”

“We don’t always win our battles, My queen.” Cheoljong says kindly but it comes out overly patient. It sounds patronizing even to his own ears. This seems to aggravate So Yong.

She inclines her head, perhaps in contemplation. Or is it in confusion? “You let Kim Jwa Geun live.” Resentment frames the dark of her eyes. “How is it fair that Kim Jwa Geun and the Dowager Queen are both alive while my father is dead?”

“There is no mercy for either Kim Jwa Geun or Dowager Queen Sunwon,” he says carefully. “They will live the remainder of their days in abject misery, wishing only for the release of death.” 

“When did my father die?” She untangles herself from Cheoljong, putting some distance between them. She turns her back on him as though looking at him hurt her even more. “He died that same day, didn’t he?” 

“Yes, he died at Seonjeongjeon.” Cheoljong admits, feeling the suffocating tension of many unspoken things. “He died from his wound.”

“And you led me to believe that he lived long enough for the physician to check on him….” Her eyes refuse to meet his, her body seeming of the same mind.  “Long enough to fight for his life.” 

“You were fighting for your own life, So Yong-ah,” he reasons as he steps closer to So Yong  once more. He freezes mid-step when she moves further away, as though she cannot stand being so close to him. “Please. I did what I thought was best at that time. I didn’t want you to grieve while you were fighting for your own life!”

“I didn’t… I didn’t even..” she croaks . Her brows squeeze together as though she’s reliving something painful. “The last time I saw my father, he…” 

“What happened?”

Something akin to despair crosses her face as though she’s barely clinging to her composure . The emotion runs its course quickly. “He talked about restitution.” 

“Restitution?” Cheoljong repeats. 

She looks away but there is no hiding the remorse in her eyes. "My father . . .”

“Will always be remembered,” Cheoljong finishes softly. “He’ll always be here, So Yong-ah…. just not in the way you want him.”

So Yong doesn’t say anything for a good long while and Cheoljong wonders what she’s thinking. When she meets Cheoljong’s gaze, her face is an inscrutable mask.

They stare at each other, a few paces separating them. But it feels so much more to Cheoljong, like they have not known each other since that night she saved him from the well. Like she has not put herself in harm’s way multiple times to keep him from getting hurt. 

Like he won’t do the exact same thing for her. 

“I was…” Cheoljong grinds out, trying to find the words. “I was afraid… so afraid I would lose you and our child.”

So Yong’s eyes are wet with tears, and she nods with obvious uncertainty. Cheoljong wonders if the goodness of intentions could cancel out an omission. He wonders if lying to protect her makes him less of a liar.

“I understand,” she says, her expression turbulent for a fragment of a second before she offers Cheoljong a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. "You did what any wise king would do." 

The words come out too quickly, and Cheoljong suspects that her concession is an attempt to ease his mind while hers still dithered, convinced he didn't do enough to serve her father justice, when it is most certainly not the case. “I did what I thought a husband and a father would do– to protect his family.”

He doesn’t get any response from So Yong. 

Where words should fill the air, So Yong and Cheoljong stand, frozen in place staring at each other. His gaze is beseeching while hers is accusing.

"You blame me," Cheoljong concludes as So Yong averts her gaze. Her prolonged silence unnerves him. 

"I blame myself," So Yong says finally. Her voice is too soft, it is almost inaudible. 

"Don't do that.” Cheoljong steps closer in an attempt to wrap an arm around her. “It's not your fault." But So Yong steps back immediately, motioning him to keep his distance. His heart cleaves, right down the center. 

“Then whose fault is it?” she fires back with a vehemence that shocks Cheoljong. “I never should have involved my father!” 

“Your father only tried to protect you. You cannot blame yourself, So Yong-ah,” he implores her.  “No one could have known this was going to happen.”

“I should have known!” she snaps, eyes blazing. “I knew what Kim Jwa Geun was capable of. I knew–”

“Your father is aware of the risks,” he interrupts, unwilling to let So Yong blame herself for what happened. “He died trying to protect you.” Remembering his own mother and father, Cheoljong’s voice cracks when he adds, “It is what every parent would do.” 

But his words don't seem to reach So Yong. He can see it on her face. He recognizes the emotions there: the trifecta of self-destruction.

Regret. 

Resentment. 

Remorse. 

They were the same emotions he felt when his own family was murdered. A survivor’s guilt, Yeongpyeong once said.

“My queen,” he says softly, moving closer to So Yong, wanting only to offer her comfort. “Your father would not want to see you this way.”

But Cheoljong’s lamentations and supplications fall on deaf ears. 

"No, he would not." She says curtly, her expression vacant. "I want to see where he is buried."

"Alright, I will take you there."

"Alone. You don't have to come."

Cheoljong tries not to flinch, his world tilting sideways. "You are your father's last thoughts," he tells her. “He does not want you to feel unloved.”

Her eyes water, but otherwise, So Yong's expression is a wall of ice. 

"Talk to me, So Yong-ah," Cheoljong pleads, afraid she’s bottling up her emotions. Sorrow tugs at his heart. "Please."

"I think I want to be alone now." 

—

The palanquin ride to Kim Mun Geun’s grave has been bumpy. 

So Yong can hear the careful footfalls of her servants and Lady Choi’s quiet admonishment each time the palanquin jerks. “Please be careful, Her Highness is pregnant!” she hisses. 

She’s tempted a few times to slide the windows open and peep outside. At a time when autumn gives way to winter, the landscape outside the palace would be breathtaking. But So Yong remains ensconced inside the cramped space. 

No, her father cannot be dead. Cheoljong had told her he was fighting for his life. The king had said so himself. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to her father.

It could not be true. Maybe someone made a mistake, she tells herself. 

But there was finality in Cheoljong’s words, a conviction So Yong wishes wasn’t there. 

“My father is…” So Yong cannot finish the sentence. She feels her eyes water once more. Discreetly, she runs a palm across her eyes

Dead. The word sounded exactly like what it is. Final. Irreversible. Cold.

“Your Highness, we need to walk the rest of the way,” she hears Lady Choi’s somber voice as the palanquin jerks to a stop. 

“It should be a few paces from here,” Lady Choi adds as So Yong steps out of her litter. “His Majesty has specifically selected this place for your father’s tomb.”

They trudge up a small hill surrounded by magnificent scenery. It is quiet except for the gentle whisper of a cold breeze. Tree branches denuded of leaves look like dark outlines against azure afternoon skies. There is a light smattering of snow on the ground, and in the middle of a small clearing is a mound of earth– Kim Mun Gun’s tomb. 

So Yong lays some flowers upon her father’s grave, as Lady Choi, Hong Yeon and the rest of her servants keep their distance. “Father….” she begins but the words don’t come. 

So Yong had words of gratitude and goodbye formulated in her mind, but as she stares at the mound of earth in front of her, she finds only tears. 

Memories flood her mind.

Memories of a simpler time.

Of being a little girl who outran her cousins, Byeong In and Kim Hwan, only to get her knees scraped. Her father would clean her wounds and make the pain go away.

Of her father admiring a special tree in their yard. “This tree will bring us luck. One day, you will be queen,” he told her once as he looked up at the tree.

Of her father looking somber on her birthdays. “So Yong-ah, happy birthday,” he would say, but he always had that look, as though he wasn't only mourning her mother’s death, he was agonizing over their inability to celebrate birthdays the way other children did. 

Of her father offering to help her sneak Cheoljong in.

"I am still here,” Kim Mun Geun said, his voice tight and fierce.  

"No. I cannot let you do that. They will hurt you, father."  

"Seeing you suffer hurts me more." 

Her father’s words unleashed something inside So Yong. "You would do that for His Majesty?"  

Kim Mun Geum smiled only.  

"Why?"  

"Restitution," Kim Mun Geun stated simply.

“Father,” she tries once more, but all she can think about is that her father is gone. That all she has left are memories. She will never hear her father’s voice again. His wise counsel. His raucous laughter. His gentle encouragement. His kind admonishment.

Tears slide down her cheeks as she starts to sob. “I miss you, father,” she croaks. “I’m sorry… I never should have involved you in any of this.”

From her periphery she can see Lady Choi and Hong Yeon wiping their own tears. It reminds her that perhaps, she is not without family. 

She doesn’t know how long she sits next to her father’s grave, tinkering with the soil, watching birds fly above, staring at leafless trees that look so somber, they seem to commiserate with her. 

“Goodbye, father,” she tells Kim Mun Geun morosely, as the last crumbs of soil drop from her fingers. 

A frosty wind blows past So Yong as when rises on her feet. It is then that she notices the scenery surrounding her father’s grave. She is afforded a spectacular view of the sprawling palace grounds. From her lofty vantage point, she even has a clear view of Daejojeon. It is as though her father would continue to watch over her.

Perhaps it is the reason why Cheoljong has chosen such a place. 

She makes a mental note to thank Cheoljong, but guilt stabs at her heart when she remembers how cold she was when he broke the news to her. 

Perhaps she had every right to be cold. 

Because isn’t that what people do when they’re hurt? When people grapple with so much grief that they couldn’t see straight? When the loss is so overwhelming that people close themselves off to get some semblance of control? Even when people know it is irrational and unhealthy? 

Because it easier to cling on to anger, than to deal with sorrow.

She needed someone to blame. Someone to be furious with. 

Like Cheoljong. 

Cheoljong, who is better acquainted with grief than she is. 

Cheoljong, who has suffered immeasurable loss at the hands of her own clan. 

An image of Cheoljong sends a stabbing ache through her. 

“Your father only tried to protect you.” “You cannot blame yourself, So Yong-ah,” he implored her.  “No one could have known this was going to happen.”

He was right.

Life offers no promises, only possibilities. 

Like the possibility of a rainbow after a storm.

Like how remorse can lead to restitution.

Joy can blossom after grief.

With renewed purpose, So Yong looks at her father’s grave once more.  She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky. She takes a deep breath, just as she feels a snowflake fall on her cheek. 

When she cracks her eyes open, it is snowing. 

She smiles. “Thank you, father,” she murmurs onto the wind. Then finally, she forces herself to turn away… to let him go.

In the end, there should be no grief, only gratitude.

—

“Let me through!” Sunwon demands as she tries to push her way against a few of So Yong’s maids, Lady Choi leading the charge. 

Together, the women most loyal to So Yong have formed some type of barricade that keeps the dowager queen from leaving her chambers.  

So Yong watches them with mild amusement, as she stands primly behind a hysterical Sunwon. Never had she imagined the dowager queen to sink so low as to physically force her way out of her own chambers. 

But the mighty always falls. 

“You are not going anywhere, Your Highness,” So Yong declares. 

The dowager queen spins around so fast, it almost makes So Yong dizzy. “ You don’t get to order me around!” Her shrill voice reverberates across the hallways of Tongmyeongjeon. “ You won’t even be queen, if it weren’t for your clan– the clan you destroyed!” 

So Yong stares at the older woman as she tries to lord over her. She had been terrified of her once, fearful of what she might do to her, to her father and then later, to Cheoljong. But as she stares the dowager queen down, her fears dissipate. Sunwon no longer holds power over her, or anyone else.  “ You destroyed our clan. I didn’t.”

Sunwon huffs scornfully. “Look at you! Just days ago they said you were fighting for your life.” She looks at So Yong as if she’s a bug she could crush under her foot. 

So Yong cants her head, shoring up her patience. “I was.”

Sunwon grows quiet, sizing So Yong up.  When she speaks again, she is calmer. But no less spiteful. "And yet here you are, still alive. I thought as much.” 

Invectives fire inside So Yong’s head, but she speaks with a softness that rivals Sunwon’s extravagant silk dangui . "I came to deliver some important news, but I can assure you, you will never have to see me again."

Sunwon arches a perfectly coiffed brow, her mouth set in a tight line. 

“You will remain in the palace, here inside Tongmyeongjeon,” So Yong continues. “This is where you will reside for the remainder of your days, and you'll never be allowed to step outside.” She pauses for dramatic effect, watching with great satisfaction as the older woman’s eyes widen in hatred. And loathing. And despair. 

“ You ?” the dowager queen screeches, half disgust, half denial. “ You … are locking me up?” She glares so intensely at So Yong that she’s surprised she hasn’t gone up in flames.

“You are not allowed to speak to anyone, save for the guards and servants assigned to you.” So Yong continues in the same voice–imperious and intimidating. It is the only language the dowager queen understands. “Guards will stand watch at all times– guards and servants, I will choose myself.”

"You're locking me up inside my own residence?" she thunders in a voice used to giving orders. Used to being obeyed. 

A voice designed to make a lesser person tremble.

So Yong is not that person. “Everything you do, everyone you talk to, I will know. And If you so much as ponder plotting against me or His Majesty again, even for a fraction of a heartbeat, I will find out.”

“You cannot do this to me!” 

"Would you rather I throw you in prison?” So Yong fires back, the venom of her words betraying her placid expression. She steps closer, her chin thrust upward in a subtle gesture of superiority. “Or I could relieve you of your head, if you are so inclined."

Undeterred, the dowager queen seethes, “Is that a threat?” 

So Yong balls her hands into fists under her dangui but she deigns the older woman a smile. “Call it a promise, Your Highness.”

“You have no right,” Sunwon spits out as though the reality of her situation has not sunk in yet. “This palace belongs to me!”

“Not anymore.” So Yong stares down the once proud and powerful dowager queen. “Life is funny like that,” she intones. “What we fear losing most, we almost always end up losing because of that fear.”

"You have no authority!” she bellows. “You little piece of–”

"As a matter of fact, I do. And as of this moment, you are no longer responsible for the inner court… or anything else for that matter.” 

Sunwon shoots her another blistering glare. 

But So Yong remains unimpressed. “It would bode well for you, Your Highness, to be thankful for your…. exile within the palace walls. Do not test me, or I will have you join your disgraced brother.” She moves closer, so she is almost face to face with the elder woman. “...or I can have you follow my father into the afterlife.” 

Sunwon holds her gaze for a few defiant heartbeats before the fight leaves her eyes. She looks away and then steps backward. It is as a physical manifestation of her acknowledgement of defeat. 

“I am grateful for… for your kindness,” —Sunwon grinds out in a clipped tone– “Your Highness.”

It isn’t lost on So Yong that the disgraced dowager queen looks anything but grateful, but she watches in pleasure as Sunwon bows her head in begrudging reverence. 

—

“Where is she? Where is the queen?” Cheoljong asks a stuttering maidservant. He cannot keep the frustration from leaking into his voice as he interrogates the servants littering the hallways of Daejojeon.

Cheoljong has been searching for So Yong all afternoon but the queen seems to have disappeared. 

“Maybe she’s out for a walk, Your Majesty,” offers the eunuch who’s standing behind him. His tone is mild but Cheoljong can almost hear an undertone of affection and exasperation. He’s probably smiling, shaking his head. “Her highness will be back.”

But Cheoljong is at his wit’s end. “When was the last time you saw her?” he continues, ignoring the eunuch and effectively terrorizing the poor maidservant. When he sees the unsuspecting girl tremble in fear, he takes a solidifying breath and speaks calmly. “Surely, she did not disappear on her own.”

Since their argument at Daejojeon, Cheoljong has not seen, or heard from So Yong. It seems so long ago now. 

It will be dark soon— impossible to see a rock, a fallen branch, a slithering snake. What if she takes a tumble?   It is also freezing outside. What if she gets cold?   Panic knifes through his gut. Where would she go?

She could not possibly be visiting her father’s grave again. Not this late . The light is already fading fast. 

“Her Highness… Her highness wasn’t alone,” the poor maidservant's wobbly voice interrupts his thoughts. “She left Daejojeon with Lady Choi and Hong Yeon–”

“When?” 

“Not too long ago,” the maidservant stutters. “She… she seemed antsy.”

“Antsy?” he echoes impatiently. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the maidservant confirms in the same quivering voice. “It looked as if Her Highness couldn't wait to go out… and get some air.”

Get some air? Where would So Yong get some air this late, on such a chilly afternoon? He racks his mind for some answers. Perhaps the garden? Or perhaps….?

And then it clicks. He knows exactly where So Yong would go. 

His eyes light up. Then, without preamble, he turns on his heel and dashes off. The maidservants stare at him in shock. They have never known him to be so mercurial. He’s almost certain they stare after him long after he’s gone.

When Cheoljong marches down the bridge that leads to the little island, he sees the queen’s retinue before he sees So Yong. She's standing by the edge of the water, facing the lake. 

The oblique rays of the setting sun gives the sky a warm yellow-orange tinge. The colors are reflected in the thin layer of ice that covers the lake. 

The prints on So Yong’s dangui shimmers, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Cheoljong’s steps slow, taking her in. 

There has always been something majestic about So Yong, and he has adored her beyond measure. Beyond comprehension. His intellect was slower to recognize those feelings, but his instinct had known from that rainy afternoon from long ago, when she used a silky strip of pink to wrap over a wound on his arm. 

And it wasn’t just the wound in his arm that she healed– it was all of him. 

Cheoljong steps slow as So Yong lift her arms and folds them across her stomach. It looks as though she’s rubbing her belly. She probably isn’t aware she’s doing it– perhaps it is one of those maternal things mothers do unconsciously.

A chill runs down Cheoljong spine. A chill of excitement, of thoughts of their future. Of ruling the country together. Of children.

Children!

He smiles and draws in the chilly sunset air. Then he expels a breath of gratitude, because how else is he supposed to rein in the surge of joy in his heart?

As he ambles forward, So Yong’s retinue notices his approach. He signals them to remain quiet and grant them privacy. 

In his periphery, he sees Lady Choi smile as she turns around to oblige him. He takes it as a good sign that the queen is in a more forgiving mood. 

So Yong turns in place just as he’s about to walk up to her. The silk of her elegant dangui shifts as she moves.

 “I looked everywhere for you,” he blurts out.

“Not everywhere.” A small restrained smile appears on her face, and he wishes he could see it more fully. 

“No, not everywhere,” he repeats, aware that neither of them are talking about that day alone.  “It took me a while to get here.”

“You took your time.”

“I got distracted a few times. Lost my way at the start.”

“And still, you found me.” Joy flashes in her eyes. 

“Every path leads to you.”

No longer able to keep his hands from So Yong, Cheoljong steps forward and pulls her close. She steps into his embrace almost immediately, wrapping her arms around his waist.  He could feel the warmth of her breath on his throat. He sighs in content, reveling in the serene stillness that has settled over the lake

Neither of them speak for some time until he remembers the many discussions to be had between them– for one, the untruth he said about her father. 

“So Yong-ah,” he begins, pulling back, almost terrified of saying anything that could extinguish her smile again. “I kept the truth about your father because–”

“–I know.” So Yong’s voice is sweet and clear. 

A cool wind blows past them, causing his robe and her skirt to billow softly. He hears the distant crack of a tree branch.  

So Yong meets his gaze, her expression soft and serious. “My father was many things, but he was a great father to me. He made a lot of mistakes– grave ones in your book. But he dedicated the remainder of his days to helping you. He called it restitution.” 

“Your father was a good man.” 

“Yes, yes he was,” she murmurs, her face pinching. “I’m sorry, I was cold and catty. I never meant to blame you for my father’s death.”

He lifts his hands to hold the side of her face. “I know,” he tells her softly. 

“Or to imply that you kept the truth from me with ill intent.”

“I know,” he repeats, then wraps an arm around So Yong once more. “None of it matters. Without you, I’m just a boy trapped in a well.”

“Should I keep saving you then?” She lets out a soft chuckle.

“ That .. we need to talk about that.” Cheoljong tries to sound stern, but the sound of So Yong’s chuckle makes it difficult for him to keep a straight face. “You cannot keep throwing yourself in harm’s way for me.” 

“Then stop giving me reasons to, Your Majesty,” she quips, nestling her face against the hollow below his shoulder. And then in a more solemn tone, she adds, “We are who we are because of the people we love.”

Love.

“How did you get to be so wise?”

“Sometimes, wisdom blooms in a place of woe,” she responds cryptically.

And then he says the one thing he wanted to tell her for so long. The words he feared he’d never get to say to her. “I love you.”

So Yong doesn’t say anything but he can feel her smile against his neck, hear her soft sigh. Then she pulls him closer and looks at the servants furtively. Seemingly satisfied with their privacy, she rises up on tiptoe and brushes a kiss across his lips. 

He feels the chill of her nose grazing against his and the contrasting warmth of  her lips. But the kiss itself is so quick, so soft –almost shy– he barely feels it, And yet, it is enough for him to want more. 

He pulls back a little. There is something else he wants to say, but the words fade when he sees her face light up– the golden light of the fading afternoon hits her eyes, her lips, her whole beautiful face. 

He kisses her then with the gratitude, the joy, and the wonder one feels after finally hitting solid ground. 

“Maybe I should keep you company at Daejojeon tonight?” he murmurs against her skin, voice low and teasing. He hears So Yong’s familiar whimper as he brushes another kiss –soft yet insistent– to the furrow of her lips.

“Hmmmm” is all So Yong says, but she tightens her grip on him, her fingers pressing into his back.  

Unable to resist no matter who might see, his hands run down her sides, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him. Then, his hand skims the slight bulge of her belly. 

“Oh!” So Yong exclaims unexpectedly, sparkling eyes popping out. One of her hands goes to her stomach, fingers spreading over her belly.  

Cheoljong steps back immediately in alarm. “My queen–”

“The baby just moved, Your Majesty!” she bursts out, grinning. “Want to feel?” Without waiting for a response, So Yong grabs his hand and presses it against her belly.

Cheoljong feels it– a mysterious roll and shift. Then there it is, something hard—an elbow, maybe, or a knee and unexpectedly, his throat tightens.

“Our child,” he says hoarsely, feeling his child kick for the first time. He swallows the quick knot that forms in his throat. He has never felt so blissful…so blessed. 

Never thought life can be so bright. So boundless. 

He isn’t sure how to be this happy.

He reaches for her because he couldn’t help himself. “Thank you,” he rasps then bends to hover over her rounded abdomen, pressing a soft kiss to the center of her belly.

The gesture seems to bring tears to her eyes– joyous ones. The best kind. Her expression is glorious. Luminous. Her beauty, more radiant, more arresting than usual. 

He dares not to blink, etching the moment in his memory and vowing to keep her looking like that for always.

Much to his surprise, So Yong sidles closer and wraps an arm around him. She tucks her head under his jaw once more. He wonders if she's simply living in the moment, or if it has always been her nature to be so spontaneous. To be so affectionate. 

That is, until her embrace triggers a memory from not so long ago. 

I want an embrace unencumbered by fear...or revenge. I want to tell you I love you, just because. Not out of fear that I might not see you again , she said once. 

He returns the embrace, pulling So Yong closer. Her affection is infectious. 

Later, when she pulls back, she gestures around them– around the lake that has come to mean so much to both of them. The sun is quickly sinking below the horizon and the soft colors of dusk have settled over the lake. She asks him wistfully, “Can you just imagine our children playing here?” 

He does. “Yes, and they will swim in the summer…” His eyes survey the lakeside, picturing children playing, their mother admonishing them not to run near the water.  He cannot help but add, “They’ll be swimming along with their mother.” 

She chuckles in return, soft and melodic. It is a sound too beautiful for him to process. She looks around the lake too, as though she’s picturing the exact same thing. “So long as His Majesty will be swimming with us,” she returns.  

His chuckle grows into a hearty, honest laugh. And it comes much more readily than it would have in the past. 

When his laughter trails back to a soft chuckle, it occurs to him that So Yong has made the palace his home.  

That she made it possible to rebuild a lost home. To feel as though he belongs in any moment, at any place, in any time.

Because at that moment, with So Yong smiling happily next to him, their child kicking in her womb, Cheoljong knows he would always be home with her. 

And fate has finally given him his due: A life without fear. A love with no limits

❤️