Something Has Happened

Something has happened.

What? They're holding up fine? So those bastards have grown, have they.

Sure enough, similar reactions started cropping up here and there in the comments on the site where the novel was posted.

Hss… "get out" is a bit much.

Exercising my authorial discretion, I deleted that last comment. Who the hell are you to tell people to leave?

Of course, the majority of reactions were still the usual "This shit again?!" variety.

There were also some posts that took a more serious stab at evaluating the work.

It was a sharp critique, no denying it. Fundamentally I follow "original history" as it was — but if I did that straight, nobody would read my stuff. So I tossed in a handful of "reformist monarchs" as seasoning, and this non-pattern pattern is what came out.

There was even a post that half-successfully predicted content that hadn't come out yet.

A pretty sharp prediction. After installing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cheoljong — the Prince of Ganghwa — as king, I'd been planning to make Heungseon Daewongun the protagonist and carry the story from there.

Well then. Time to drop in Cheoljong of Ganghwa. Now that I was back from Russia, there wasn't anything particularly urgent on my plate.

Let's try serializing diligently for about a month.

The people who loved author Lee Myeongbok's work had been in a good mood lately.

Through various bits of speculation, they had more or less figured out that the author had a separate "day job," and that it was a profession quite close to the imperial household. So once the Emperor's state visit to Russia wrapped up, they predicted that the regular five-days-a-week schedule would resume.

And sure enough, starting right after the Emperor's return, the five-day weekly updates kicked back in, and the story started blasting through chapters at speed.

When, after the death of Heonjong — the young sage-king and protagonist — a royal who'd been farming on Ganghwa Island was installed as the next king, everyone's chests had tightened with dread. But the veteran author immediately served up the lemonade.

The king was a puppet in all but name. The real protagonist was Prince Heungseon, Yi Ha-eung.

The way he hid the ambition boiling inside him even while being called a funeral-house dog, and the way he sharpened his blade against the powerful noble houses that were ruining the country — it had a fun flavor completely different from everything that had come before.

I'd been too busy with the wedding and a pile of other things to get online much — and in that time they'd been fighting over this?

That said, they'd divided it pretty well for a fan invention. Putting the Sukjong-through-Heonjong period as Part 3 felt a little fuzzy to me, but still.

So then the fall of the Korean Empire would be the end of Part 5, and the Japanese colonial period would become Part 6?

So far I'd managed to keep readers satisfied even as Joseon declined, through a kind of sleight of hand — but once Cheoljong died and we entered the Gojong accession period, the reactions would heat up again.

At first I'd been flustered whenever the readers caught fire, but it didn't even faze me anymore. If anything, I was starting to wonder just how far the blaze would spread this time. I mean — this was the work that had moved the imperial household itself, wasn't it? How much bigger could it possibly get? Every time I thought that, it always blew up into something huge… but this time, mercifully, nothing of the sort happened, and time simply passed.

And by "something of the sort," I meant things involving Emperor Lee Wonbum as well as author Lee Myeongbok. Domestic politics rolled on without any particular chaos under the Liberty Party prime minister, and within the imperial household the grief of the plane crash had almost completely settled.

Ah, right — there was that brief address to the nation over Chuseok.

There was a standing tradition of the Emperor delivering a short greeting on Chuseok and New Year's Day. Beyond that, truly nothing had happened.

As for the Jeguk Ikmunsa, aside from Kim Insu saying the agency needed reform in various ways and temporarily stepping back from his attendant duties, there was nothing of note.

Honestly I'm not even that curious about the Ikmunsa side…

Maybe because I'd lived longer as an ordinary citizen than as a member of the imperial family, I had no particular desire to know the intimate details of an intelligence agency. The previous emperor had supposedly handled all sorts of business between the palace and the government through the Jeguk Ikmunsa, but for someone as uninterested in politics as me, how often would I really need to use it?

Unlike me — who'd been living as a layabout, writing novels in the palace — Sofya had been rather busy. As Empress of the Korean Empire she studied court etiquette, polished her Korean, and worked on building friendships with the Gyeonghwa Sajok that I, with my introverted nature, had half-abandoned — putting real effort into her "support from within."

Of course, she also collaborated with various charities to hold recitals, determined to keep her identity as a pianist alive.

Thanks to which I, who had no great interest in classical music, always had to tag along and fight off sleep — but still.

"Looks like this year's going to pass without any trouble. Don't you think, Sofya?"

"Mm. I don't think so."

"Is something about to happen?"

At my question Sofya nodded and held out a photograph.

A pregnancy test stick, two bright red lines showing clear as day.

"I'm pregnant."

Right. Something has happened.