He Whispered of Revenge
"Do you think you've won?"
Just as I was about to leave the Imperial Palace, I ran into the Second Prince, Ju Gachi, who had clearly been waiting for me at the gate the whole time. It felt strangely familiar—like the day I had once stood before the Empress with the black staff the Emperor himself had bestowed.
"Well, Your Highness, I'm not sure this was ever a matter of winning or losing."
I chose my words carefully. In the end, the Empress had been thoroughly used by the Blood Sect. They had trampled and exploited a mother's desperate wish to save her son, forcing even the Emperor to take the life of his own blood with his own hands. The true object of resentment was the Blood Sect, not me—or so the logic went.
"Spare me the nonsense."
But to the Second Prince, who had just been torn from his mother the former Empress, none of that seemed to register. He glared at me, face twisted with the shudder of betrayal.
"I had my eye on you… and this is how you stab me in the back?"
"I never stabbed anyone in the back."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
I shrugged and answered straight.
"We were never on the same side to begin with. So it can't be a backstab."
My blunt reply made him grind his teeth. But it was the truth. From the start I had been hired by Consort Yang's faction—essentially the political opposition. His expectations had been misplaced from day one. And once the Blood Sect had been invited into the palace's private chambers, this whole disaster had been a bomb waiting to go off. Still, people like him always needed someone to blame.
"Your Highness."
At that moment one of Ju Gachi's retainers appeared behind him.
"You must leave at once. His Majesty has summoned the imperial clan again."
The man prodded the Second Prince, who was still locked in a staring contest with me and wasting time. Apparently something new had come up beyond the decision on the Empress's fate. The moment I heard it, I decided to get out of the palace as fast as possible. The mess I was already tangled in was more than enough to send Master into a rage. Dig any deeper and the old man might draw a real sword under the pretext of "education" instead of his usual training stick.
"You look busy. Aren't you going?"
I said it to the Second Prince, who still blocked the gate and refused to step aside. In this palace the Son of Heaven's command was no different from Heaven itself.
"You spoke out of turn before His Majesty as well. What a brazen mouth you have."
"Yeah, I hear that a lot."
Once the lines were drawn there was no point pretending politeness. Seeing that further talk would only make him angrier, Ju Gachi snorted and brushed past me.
"Just you wait."
People who say "just you wait" are never the scary ones, or so they claim. Had he really stood here waiting for a mere troubleshooter to leave the palace just to deliver that single line? Apparently I had now been reclassified in the Second Prince's mind as a threat on the same level as Consort Yang or Princess Dohwa.
"Sure. Keep watching. I'll be going, then."
"…"
I left a few parting remarks for the palace gatekeepers and stepped out of the Imperial Palace. It was the season when bitter winter was finally tipping over into spring.
Ugly things had clawed through the very heart of the Imperial Palace, yet the incident was thoroughly buried to keep chaos from sweeping the Central Plains. Officially it was announced as nothing more than an internal power struggle. Of course the gossips and riffraff of the world poured out every wild rumor and speculation they could invent, but that was the palace's public stance.
Silencing the surface, however, did nothing to cool the Emperor's fury. He had borrowed a subordinate's blade to take his own son's head and been forced to exile the wife of decades. From that moment the Blood Sect became an irreconcilable, blood-deep enemy.
I will set a clear goal so that you will no longer simply throttle one another.
During all the long months while the Crown Prince had hovered between life and death, the Son of Heaven had effectively abandoned his children under the banner of neutrality. Now he began to move in earnest. Gathering the imperial clan, the Emperor of the Central Plains announced exactly what anyone who wished to sit in the Crown Prince's seat must do.
And that goal was simple:
Achieve that vengeance and prove your own worth and ability. With a destination finally marked, the true contest for the position of Crown Prince had begun.
Which was why Consort Yang, just returned from the summons, found herself deep in thought. Ever since hearing the Emperor's command to confront the Blood Sect, worry and calculation had never left her face.
"Mmnh…"
A small fussing sound rose from her arms. She gently stroked her son's head. He was still far too young to sit as Crown Prince—her precious boy. That very weakness had caused her faction to be ignored or dismissed by the palace's major powers all this time.
"But the board has completely changed now."
Ambition flared in the eyes of the woman who had always been treated as an afterthought. His Majesty had laid down a clear, fair condition: rightful vengeance against the Blood Sect that had dared stretch its filthy hands into the palace. And the crucial point was that he had only ordered the Leader's head brought back. He had attached no conditions about who did it or how.
That meant even Consort Yang's faction, cradling a young son, had been given an equal chance. The Empress's faction, shattered by the exile of the former Empress, was in disarray and scattering. Consort Yang was already planning to systematically absorb those cast-off people and expand her own power.
"Heaven itself has granted us this opportunity."
She murmured it while gazing down at the son who had already fallen asleep in her arms. Everyone had looked at the child she had carried and birthed and declared him hopeless, certain that victory would fall to either the Empress or Consort Yang alone. If this boy failed to claim the seat of Crown Prince, the Emperor—fearing fratricide among the princes—would grant him nothing more than a fief and a title and pack him off to some distant frontier.
An Emperor's wives had to remain in the palace. Unless the Emperor specially permitted it, they could not set foot where unrelated men lived; they were, in truth, birds in a gilded cage. If her son were sent far away, returning to the palace would become nearly impossible—a living separation in all but name.
"How could I ever leave you and accept that?"
To be alive yet unable to meet—such a bleak reality was something no mother could endure. That was why Consort Yang had no intention of letting this long-awaited chance slip away.
"Even so, Mother, absorbing the broken factions and talent still leaves the other powers far too strong."
Beside her, the Second Princess, Princess Hwajeong, spoke with open concern. Tall and solidly built, she silently regarded her much smaller younger brother. To place a child this young on the throne of Crown Prince would require an overwhelming force capable of crushing every objection. At present they possessed little more than a few connections within the military.
"If our power is lacking, we simply grow it step by step."
Consort Yang answered with confidence.
"I understand your intent, Mother, but expanding influence and taking the Blood Sect Leader's head are entirely different matters."
Princess Hwajeong's point was sharp. This was not something that would solve itself merely by piling up power and influence inside the palace. They desperately needed a keen blade sharp enough to strike into the distant, lethal stronghold of the Blood Sect and sever the Leader's neck.
"That problem, too, will be solved by recruiting the right talent."
Even after her mother's words, Princess Hwajeong tilted her head, still skeptical.
"What sort of talent do you have in mind?"
Consort Yang thought of the capable Central Plains master who had thoroughly dismantled the Empress's faction from within during the recent affair.
"Dan Mujin, was it? That expert is what our faction needs first."
An outsider whose skill and value had been certified by none other than Cheon Su-gong, Director of the Eastern Depot, who had used him repeatedly for critical work.
"I was under the impression that man belonged to Consort Yang's side."
After the incident they had made inquiries; it turned out he had wholeheartedly assisted Consort Yang and Princess Dohwa under a string of different names and identities. Of course, Consort Yang's own group had received his help along the way as well.
"Wrong. Upon checking, he was merely hired as a troubleshooter. He never swore loyalty."
He had been employed for payment, not fully installed as a retainer. Even in this latest affair he had only shared a boat with them because the Empress had come after him; fundamentally he was a troubleshooter who claimed neutrality. And at the gathering that decided the Empress's treatment, Consort Yang had discovered yet another of the man's hidden talents.
"Mother, a man hired for money can bolt in any direction, and that man has already spoken rudely to His Majesty and earned his displeasure."
Princess Hwajeong's question was clear: are you truly going to bring him inside? Besides, the man had once muttered behind her back while she wore armor and commanded soldiers. She had not caught the details, but no doubt it was the same sort of sneering the palace's usual men directed at a woman who strapped on a sword and swaggered about. Her eyes narrowed.
"He earned His Majesty's displeasure, you say. Is that truly what you thought?"
Consort Yang suddenly smiled and said something cryptic. Princess Hwajeong stared at her mother again, more puzzled than ever. The girl possessed outstanding martial talent and command ability, yet she had no gift for politics or strategy. Consort Yang let out a soft sigh at her own daughter.
"Think the other way around, my daughter."
"The other way…?"
Consort Yang nodded and continued.
"He spat such insolence in the Son of Heaven's presence, yet he still has his head and not a single wound. He even walked away with a reward. What do you suppose that means?"
"…!"
It was true. Anyone who had been rude before the Emperor usually lost their head to the blades of the Shadow Guard. Yet His Majesty had not only refrained from cutting him down, he had deliberately summoned him to a gathering of the imperial clan and even confirmed the outcome of the man's word—"neglect"—as if to refute it.
"It means he took a liking to the fellow. Just like that old beggar he used to play go with long ago."
"Ah… I see."
The supreme seat from which there was nowhere higher to climb. From time to time the Son of Heaven of the Central Plains performed eccentricities no ordinary person could understand—such as becoming go friends with a mere beggar.
"Therefore, bring him into our fold by any means necessary."
Now the prize was not merely the man's martial prowess and competence. A person who held the Emperor's favor was almost nonexistent in this palace—aside from the pure-hearted Consort Yang herself.
"Yes, Mother. I will try to win him over to our side."
The man who, in a single stroke, had overturned the Emperor's will when no amount of pleading from ministers had ever moved it. Since he claimed to be a neutral troubleshooter, several methods already rose in Princess Hwajeong's mind.
"Trust me and wait."