 🪷 The Queen's Affair
Alone in her chambers, Seo Yeon couldn't shake the rumor: Hae-ju's child might still live. If true, it could tip the fragile balance of power—and reopen wounds she had buried.
The door creaked open, and Eunuch Lee's worried expression spoke volumes. "Your Majesty, Concubine Yoo Ha requests an audience." The weight of palace politics pressed on Seo Yeon's shoulders—there was no escaping the game. She nodded, resolved to settle in. Yoo Ha's ambitions had outgrown the bedchamber. Her influence slithered through the court like smoke, tightening the web around them all.
Hyun Yeol nodded sharply. "Let her in."
Concubine Yoo Ha entered with calculated grace, her smile hiding the schemes she believed would reshape the palace's power.
Seo Yeon returned to her quarters soon after.
A soft knock interrupted Seo Yeon's thoughts, pulling her from the web of courtly intrigue that consumed her. The door opened, and a lady-in-waiting entered, bowing low. "Your Majesty, Princess Lee Hae and Prince Lee San wish to see you."
"Your Majesty, Princess Lee Hae and Prince Lee San have arrived."
The announcement cut through the tense silence, a stark reminder that, amid palace politics, life went on. Seo Yeon's chest tightened. Her children—her last remaining tie to a world slipping further away—offered bittersweet comfort. They were her heart, yet in their presence, the suffocating atmosphere of the palace never loosened its grip. Lee Hae burst in like sunlight, flinging herself into Seo Yeon's arms. For a fleeting moment, the palace walls faded under the warmth of her daughter's embrace.
"Mother Queen!" Lee Hae's voice, filled with innocence and joy, softened Seo Yeon's heart, drawing out a rare and fleeting smile.
In contrast, Lee San entered more slowly, his movements deliberate, his face serious—eyes reflecting a wisdom that came from bearing too much too soon. Seo Yeon's gaze softened as their eyes met, sensing the growing weight of responsibility in him despite his youth.
She straightened, the weight of her role as Queen settling over her once more. "Let them in," she murmured, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
Lee Hae pulled away, her eyes alight with excitement, while Lee San stood quietly by her side, his composure a sharp contrast to his sister's. Seo Yeon's heart tightened as she looked at them—two halves of the world she had fought to protect, yet already shadowed by the darkness closing in on them.
"What brings you here, my princess and prince?" she asked, her voice betraying a faint weariness.
"Mother Queen, have you heard?" Lee Hae grinned.
"Noona…" Lee San muttered, frowning.
Seo Yeon's voice cut in. "The Crown Princess?"
"They say her child lives."
"And that the blood is royal," Lee San finished grimly.
Seo Yeon's face hardened. "This isn't mere gossip."
Lee San nodded. "We need to find out why this rumor is being spread."
Pride flickered in Seo Yeon's eyes. "You've grown, my son."
Lee Hae, unconcerned, reached for dates. "Let's eat, Mother."
Seo Yeon smiled faintly, but as they left, the palace corridors whispered of a storm ahead—one that promised the past was far from settled and destiny would soon demand its due. An uneasy stillness hung in the air as if the very walls of the palace sensed the approaching unrest. The faintest chill ran down her spine, though she could not say why.
A week later, Hyun Yeol summoned Seo Yeon late at night. She entered the Main Hall alone, her footsteps echoing on the cold stone floor. The dim chamber felt suffocating, mirroring the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She approached until her eyes locked with his—Hyun Yeol stood by the throne, his back turned, silence hanging between them like a heavy shroud.
"Your Majesty..." she whispered, the weight of unspoken grievances thick in her voice. Slowly, Hyun Yeol turned. Their gazes clashed—lingering affection and mounting resentment swirling in the air. His eyes flicked to the door as a guard entered, shoving forward a cloaked figure.
"My Queen, do you recognize this man?" Hyun Yeol's voice was cold, each word edged with venom.
The guard yanked the hood away, revealing Ga-ho. His eyes blazed with fury, and he snarled at Hyun Yeol.
"How dare you?!" Ga-ho spat, his voice trembling with raw rage.
Seo Yeon's breath caught, her composure cracking. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice trembling between authority and dread.
Hyun Yeol smirked, his gaze sharp. "What do you think it means, Seo Yeon?" His voice dripped with mockery, slicing through the tension in the room.
Seo Yeon lifted her chin, her tone laced with disdain. "Was it Concubine Yoo Ha again, stirring trouble? Or is this just another one of your cruel games?"
Without warning, Hyun Yeol grabbed her chin, his grip unrelenting as he forced her face close to his. The sudden force jolted her, but she met his gaze with defiance.
Ga-ho's voice rang out, desperate and raw. "Let her go, you monster!" He surged forward, but the guards restrained him.
Hyun Yeol's smirk darkened. "Is it true then? Was it him?" His voice lowered, laced with something more sinister. "The one who got you pregnant—before you lost the child?"
Seo Yeon's fury ignited. She wrenched herself free, her voice a storm of rage and sorrow. "If you want answers, ask Hae-ju—before you destroy everything and everyone else!"
Hyun Yeol's fingers curled around the hilt of a sword. His grip was unsteady, but his intent was clear.
Driven by grief, Ga-ho fell to his knees, his voice breaking. "You're a murderer! If only you had left her alone, she wouldn't have suffered!" His voice cracked, the weight of his sorrow fueling his rage. "How many more must suffer under you? Your reign is nothing but a chain around the throats of those who wish to be free!"
The hall seemed to freeze. Seo Yeon's heart pounded with her emotions in turmoil.
Ga-ho's voice broke through again, filled with anguish. "You pretend you rule with strength, but all you do is break what you cannot control!" His voice wavered with disgust. "You'll never be half the man you think you are!"
For a fleeting moment, something flickered in Hyun Yeol's gaze—a crack in his unshakable cruelty.
Seo Yeon inhaled sharply. "I protect those I love," she said, the words edged with pain. "But you—you only know how to destroy."
Hyun Yeol's face contorted with fury. "Enough!" he bellowed as his voice reverberated through the chamber.
Ga-ho struggled to his feet as his glares blazed with defiance. "You don't deserve her," he spat, each word heavy with bitterness. "She rejected you because she is worth more than you'll ever understand."
Ga-ho's breath caught—realization flashing in his eyes. As the blade pierced his chest, calm settled over him. No fear. Only the quiet knowing that soon, he would see Hae-ju again.
"Suffering is all you bring..." Ga-ho murmured, fading as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor. The hall plunged into silence.
Then Seo Yeon screamed—a sound so raw, so agonized, it shattered the air. She fell beside Ga-ho, clutching his lifeless body as tears streamed down her face. Her grief was a storm, raging and uncontrollable.
Hyun Yeol stood motionless, expressing an unreadable mix of satisfaction and torment. He stared at the blood on his hands, then at Seo Yeon.
But then—something caught his eye.
A glint of pale blue against the dark fabric of Ga-ho's robes.
His breath hitched as he knelt down, his fingers trembling as he reached for it. A string, worn and frayed at the edges, yet unmistakably familiar. He lifted it, the pendant swaying gently in his grasp.
His mind reeled.
He had seen this before.
Hae-ju.
She had carried this for as long as he could remember. A sickening realization twisted in his gut. His grip tightened around the string as he turned to Ga-ho's lifeless form. His pulse pounded in his ears.
"You..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "You were her brother?"
Seo Yeon, still trembling with grief, lifted her gaze. Her eyes, swollen and red, burned with fury.
"You never even knew what you took from her," she spat. "You never knew what you destroyed."
Hyun Yeol staggered, the weight of the pendant in his hand suddenly unbearable. The room seemed smaller, suffocating—the walls he had built around himself—his confidence and control—shattered instantly. For a long, suffocating moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Hyun Yeol took a shaky breath. "I..." But the words died before they could take shape.
Seo Yeon lifted her head, the trembling in her chest now rising in her voice. A quiet storm raged inside her, but she had long learned to wear her emotions as a mask. She had grown used to bearing the unbearable, to carrying the weight of a crown that had come to feel like chains. Yet now, at this moment, everything seemed to settle. A realization, long suppressed, whispered in the back of her mind: If her children remained in the palace, they would be safe. Hyun Yeol, in all his arrogance, would not dare to harm them—especially now, with Lee San growing into his strength, his wisdom slowly forming like the roots of an ancient tree. He would always know the right path and always lead himself with honor. Lee Hae, in her boundless energy, would never be shackled—she would remain free, unbroken, as she always had been. That was the only comfort she had left.
But for Seo Yeon, the palace had become a tomb for everything she once held dear. The weight of her duty—of the life she had built in this place—had suffocated her heart. The queen who once stood beside her king had long since disappeared, consumed by the shadows of betrayal and loss.
Her voice sliced through the silence, raw but resolute.
"Your Majesty, I once asked for exile—to be sent to the temple so I might find solace." She inhaled deeply, her chest heaving, feeling the weight of her past pressing on her. "I can no longer be your queen."
A heavy silence settled over the hall, thick with finality.
Seo Yeon straightened, her spine stiffening with the strength of her decision. She bowed deeply, though her hands trembled, her gaze unwavering. In that moment, she saw the full extent of the woman she had become—the weight of her grief, her anger, and her love for her children all mingling in one powerful surge. The air grew heavier, thick with the weight of everything she had sacrificed.
"I attest that Lee Hae, our unborn child, and even Lee San are your blood. But I renounce the title of queen," she said, her voice steady though an undercurrent of pain threaded through the words. "For those I once loved are now gone—lost to the tragedies of the palace. There is nothing left for me here."
Her voice barely trembled, yet it rang with finality—the voice of a woman who had given all and now had nothing left. Each word echoed betrayal, of love lost and promises broken.
Hyun Yeol trembled at her declaration, stepping back as his silence spoke volumes. "Assist Queen Seo Yeon to her quarters. She is exhausted," he ordered softly, his voice a fragile whisper of command as the guards helped her rise.
As Seo Yeon was escorted away, the air in the hall grew thick with tension. Her defiance spread quickly through the palace corridors, igniting murmurs of discontent and bitter sympathy. The whispers grew louder, and the shadows of intrigue deepened with them. Concubine Yoo Ha, long hidden in the folds of palace politics, saw an opening to undermine Seo Yeon further. Her influence had grown stronger by the day, and now, her ambitions seemed unstoppable with the First Prince by her side.
When Lee Hae attempted to defend Seo Yeon, her voice was drowned out by the collective scorn that now filled the air—a stark reminder of how quickly the balance of power could shift.
Unable to endure the suffocating atmosphere, Lee San knelt before his father. His voice, though low and steady, carried the weight of his own inner turmoil.
"Father," he began, his tone carefully measured, "I do not know the full truth of what happened between you and Mother, but I know this: she has borne more grief than anyone should. She lost a sister she loved dearly, a child she longed for, and a father to these palace intrigues. Her soul is shattered, and while she may have asked for time to reflect, what she truly needs now is time to heal."
Hyun Yeol's expression remained unreadable, his gaze fixed on his son as if considering the weight of his words.
Lee San, his heart full of quiet urgency, pressed further. "I beg you, Father. Above all the court's politics, above all the power struggles, Mother needs time—time to heal and reclaim herself. As her son, I plead for her peace."
After a long moment of silence, Hyun Yeol's tone turned cold. "You may return to your quarters," he said dismissively.
Lee San bowed deeply and left the Main Hall, his heart burdened by the possibility that this might be the last time he would see his mother within these walls. Yet, beneath the weight of sorrow, a quiet understanding settled within him—his father, in his own unyielding way, also wished for what was best for Seo Yeon. Though his methods were harsh, and his love often concealed beneath duty, Lee San knew that this decision was not made without struggle.
Stepping into the night, Lee San closed his eyes. Let her find peace, he prayed—finally, after everything. Outside, he approached the Queen's Quarters, where Soon-i waited.
"How is Mother?" he asked softly.
Soon-i sighed, her eyes heavy with sorrow. "Her Majesty is resting, awaiting a response from His Majesty," she replied quietly.
Lee San nodded with his face blended with sorrow and resolve. "Let her know that she may hear from Him soon." As Soon-i entered, Lee San turned away, his heart echoing with the weight of impending loss.
A month later, Hyun Yeol issued his decree in the Main Hall. Eunuch Lee stood before a gathering of officials and read aloud in a measured somber tone:
"Royal Decree of His Majesty, King Hyun Yeol.Â
By the Will of Heaven, it is hereby declared that Her Majesty, the Queen, shall be sent to a sacred temple for a time of reflection and spiritual recovery. This decision, made after careful consideration, is to restore her well-being and allow the harmony of the royal family to be maintained. May this decree bring peace to our kingdom."
The decree had been issued. The finality of it hung in the air, cold and unyielding, as if the very walls of the palace sighed in resignation.