What Aches Your Heart?
A heavy weight of remorse pressed upon the King’s voice as he spoke of regret.
Slowly, he turned his gaze back to me.
“I have heard an honest answer, so that is enough.”
Hearing the softened tone in his voice, I carefully lifted my head. The King was smiling down at me, warm and gentle, as if bidding me not to be frightened. The stifling tension in the room seemed to have melted away, giving me the courage to ask a timid question. I certainly hadn’t intended to act without tact before the sovereign, but my stomach had been rumbling up a storm for a while now.
“In dat case, Your Majestwy... may I pwease eat some dasik?”
A quiet chuckle slipped past the King’s lips.
“As much as you please. Eat your fill.”
At long last, I could finally taste the splendid confections arrayed before me.
Munch, munch.
“Is it delicious?”
“Yes, Your Majesty! It is vewy, vewy delicious!”
Without hesitation, I polished off all six pieces of dasik sitting on my plate. Every single crumb. Not one was spared.
I was truly starving, to be fair, though I hadn’t planned on putting on a whole mukbang stream before the King of Joseon. But I couldn’t help it! Between the terror and the sheer adrenaline, my blood sugar had plummeted, breaking me out in cold sweats and turning my brain into complete mush. Thankfully, the rush of sweetness brought my faculties right back online.
Yet, as I swallowed the last bite...
“Your Majestwy... why are you wooking at me wike dat?”
I couldn't help asking. The King’s gaze was brimming with an almost unbearable wistfulness. It was an expression I never could have imagined on the face of the ruthless, calculating monarch of historical record.
Wait... did he look like that because I ate all the cookies?
No, surely not. He was the ruler of an entire nation; he wouldn’t look like his heart was breaking over half a dozen tea cakes.
A sudden thought urged me to speak.
“Sire... does your heart still ache?”
‘It is... a matter that pains my heart.’
‘A matter of deep regret, as well.’
I recalled the words he had uttered only moments ago. Just what kind of past was he dredging up from the depths of his memory? What was casting such a deep, drowning sorrow across his eyes?
Instead of answering, the King merely offered a bitter smile.
“What is it that pains your heart?” I asked again.
This time, an answer came.
“That I can never again lay eyes upon those I dearly miss. That is what aches my heart.”
“Then... what of your regrets?”
“What I regret is...”
The King trailed off, mouthing the words silently to himself before closing his lips tight. “Let us leave it here for today. You may take your leave.”
“...Yes, Your Majesty.”
Watching his face carefully, I couldn’t resist slipping in one final remark. “Um, Your Majesty... you will keep your pwomise to visit Hui-bin-jaga, won’t you?”
A low, quiet laugh escaped him. No spoken answer was needed; that chuckle was more than enough. He was, after all, a sovereign who honored his pledges. Offering a deep, polite bow of farewell, I backed away with utmost care and stepped out of the Great Hall.
The child maid departed.
As the cheerful, chirping voice faded, a heavy silence settled over the cavernous chamber. King Yi Sun slowly closed his eyes. In that velvet darkness, a solitary memory buried beneath mountains of time reared its head.
“Crown Prince, look! It is dasik! I made it with my very own hands.”
A page from an old, forgotten memory.
A girl with extraordinarily large, radiant eyes beamed with pure, unshadowed delight. The heart of thirteen-year-old Crown Prince Yi Sun stirred with a strange, tickling flutter.
“You made this yourself? Then you must perform the gimi tasting first.”
“Tasting? Do you fear I poisoned it? I know swords and archery, but I know nothing of poison!”
Yi Sun offered a silent smile, picking up a piece of dasik and holding it out. The girl leaned forward and took it into her mouth. Their fingertips brushed, sending that familiar flutter through his chest once more.
Watching her cheeks puff out like a cheerful little chipmunk as she chewed, the corners of Yi Sun's lips twitched upward. Right then, the wooden gate creaked open, and through that gateway of memory stepped another familiar face.
“Your Highness, forgive my lateness. My training ran long, and I was delayed.”
The tall youth entering with a sword at his waist bore a face identical to the girl's.
“It is fine. Why should friends bicker over a brief delay?”
“Your Highness’s friend? Such gracious words are far too grand for a mere royal guard like myself.”
“Of course we are friends. Both you and your younger sister. You are my most precious companions.”
Crown Prince Yi Sun waved the youth forward with a broad smile.
“So come, sit down. Cheok.”
The boy who once reminisced about his days as heir apparent was now a hardened monarch of forty. With a heavy sigh, the page of memory turned shut.
“Court Lady, may I look around Changdeokgung Palace just a little bit before going back?”
“I suppose there is no harm in it, but... you must return to Chwiseondang within half a si-jin. Do you understand?”
“Yes! I understand!”
The Head Court Lady of the Great Hall handed me a neatly tied parcel. “This is bestowed upon you by His Majesty. It is the same dasik you enjoyed earlier.”
Pine pollen dasik was not only made from scarce ingredients, but the preparation process was extraordinarily labor-intensive. In short: it was ridiculously expensive.
“Thank you so vewy much!”
Clutching the precious parcel tightly in both hands, I slipped out of Huijeongdang and deliberately sought out deserted pathways. It was a good chance to explore Changdeokgung, but more importantly, I needed quiet to organize all the information I had just gathered.
My audience with Sukjong today could be summed up in one sentence: I ended up with even more question marks than before.
Who had he meant when he said I looked like someone? The King hadn't given a straight answer to the very end.
‘Is your mother’s family name, by any chance... Cheok?’
The sheer, uncharacteristic tension in his posture when he asked that question had been bizarre. But thanks to that slip, I could piece a few things together. The King had looked at me and remembered a woman with the surname Cheok. And in all likelihood, that woman possessed a red birthmark just like the one on my arm. If Sukjong’s suspicions were correct, this woman of the Cheok clan had to be my deceased birth mother.
‘What is it that pains your heart?’
‘That I can never again lay eyes upon those I dearly miss. That is what aches my heart.’
Realizing that the object of the King’s lingering tenderness might be Hwang Bong-bong’s mother gave me a distinctly strange feeling.
There really is something about my lineage.
It might not be some earth-shattering secret of imperial birth, but I definitely wasn't the daughter of ordinary commoners. For the first time, I felt a genuine, burning curiosity about who I—or rather, Hwang Bong-bong—truly was.
And the Cheok clan, of all things...
That was the strongest clue the King had offered about my maternal lineage. The Cheok surname had died out long ago in Joseon, but obscurity wasn't the real issue here.
The Cheok clan are descendants of Cheok Jun-gyeong.
Cheok Jun-gyeong was a legendary historical figure. A ferocious Goryeo general whose monstrous strength and peerless martial prowess had earned him the enduring title of Joseon's greatest swordmaster. A terrifying warrior whose exploits read like mythical fantasy.
Even if that’s true, so what?
I was an orphan. With my older brother dead, what difference did it make whether my mother was a Cheok or a Hwang? It wasn't like I had inherited monstrous, superhuman strength, right?
...Right?
Just then, my eyes caught a landscaping rock about the size of my head resting beside a low stone wall. Now, if there was one thing about me, it was that I preferred action over endless contemplation. Rolling up my silk sleeves, I planted my tiny feet and braced myself.
“Heeave-ho!”
...Yeah, not a chance.
Confirming in less than three seconds that I possessed zero supernatural warrior bloodline powers, I dusted the dirt off my palms. Time to head back. My allotted hour was probably just about up.
I got so caught up in my thoughts that I just wandered aimlessly.
Seeing the distinctive blue-glazed roof tiles of Seonjeongjeon in the distance, it seemed I had merely been circling around Huijeongdang. But just as I turned toward the path leading to Chwiseondang...
“Well, look at this. An aegi-nain I’ve never seen before?”
“Truly. Where did such a tiny thing come from?”
Out of nowhere, four senior court maids materialized and formed a tight circle around me.
“Whose maid are you? How old are you?”
“I am four years old, and I am an aegi-nain of Chwiseondang.”
Silence slammed down like a bucket of freezing water.
Instinctively, every alarm bell in my brain went off at once. Saying ‘an aegi-nain of Chwiseondang’ had become second nature to me, so I had blurted it out without thinking. But I should never have spoken those words here.
“Chwiseon...? Hah.” A sneer curled the lip of the woman at the front. Her glare turned venomous. “Where do you think you are, you little Chwiseondang wench? How dare you loiter around here?”
“Wait, could she be that one? The child maid Seol-hyang keeps glued to her hip?”
“Ah... that brat? She's really that young?”
In the blink of an eye, I was completely trapped. Emergency sirens wailed in my head. I have to run!
“Den I will take my weave...!”
I bent into a crisp ninety-degree bow and prepared to sprint, but before my feet could even kick off the dirt, a harsh hand grabbed the back of my collar!
“Where do you think you’re running off to? There is no reason on earth for a Chwiseondang maid to be here. Are you a spy?”
“No, I'm not!”
“Shut your mouth! Loitering outside someone else's quarters without so much as greeting your seniors—typical Chwiseondang trash!”
Dangling by my collar, kicking my little legs in vain, I caught sight of the wooden plaque hanging above the pavilion right in front of us.
Bogyeongdang.
The puzzle pieces locked together with horrifying clarity. I finally understood why these hostile maids had sprung out of nowhere. And just who resided in Bogyeongdang?
Royal Noble Consort Suk-bin Choe...
These women were the personal attendants of Suk-bin. In historical rumor and court lore, when Suk-bin first received the King's favor, Jang Hui-bin had made her life a living hell with endless abuse. In short: these maids loathed anyone associated with Jang Hui-bin with every fiber of their being.
“So this is the brat that bitch Seol-hyang is raising?” the maid spat, shaking her head. “Uneducated wenches really raise children like dogs, don't they?”
Hold on.
That crossed the line.
“It was my fault for not bowing, so scold me if you must!” I piped up, glaring at her. “Do not insult Seol-hyang-hamanim!”
“What?”
Hearing a toddler articulate such defiance, the maids burst into mocking snorts of laughter. But my resolve didn't waver for a second.
“Seol-hyang-hamanim taught me vewy well! She told me never to grovel when I haven't done anything wrong!”
I bit my lip hard and stared the woman right in the eyes.
“I’ve had enough of this. Go fetch a hoechori.”
At the ringleader’s sharp bark, another maid darted off, returning in seconds with a slender disciplinary switch. My eyes widened. Flogging a court maid from another consort’s palace? Are they insane?
Yet, as the thought struck me, the grim reality followed right behind.
Actually... they totally could.
If I returned to Chwiseondang covered in bruises from Bogyeongdang's servants, Chwiseondang would explode into fury. Given the bitter rivalry between Hui-bin and Suk-bin, the entire Inner Court could be thrown into an uproar. But that political aftermath belonged to tomorrow. Right now, these petty bullies in front of me weren't intelligent enough to care about future fallout.
The cold, hard truth remained: I was about to be subjected to blatant child abuse disguised as court discipline.
The maid slashed the thin wooden rod through the air, testing its flex. The cruel switch hissed as it cut the wind.
“What will it be? Your calves, or the palms of your hands?”
The tip of the switch whipped past, grazing my cheek by a fraction of an inch. I clamped my teeth shut, refusing to give her an answer.
“Ignoring me? My, my. Little as a pea, yet as viciously stubborn as her mistress! Fine, if you won't choose, I’ll just strike wherever the rod lands!”
Whoosh!
The rod was hoisted high above her head. Despite my best efforts to stay brave, my eyes squeezed shut in terror.
...Yet, the burning strike never came.
“Gasp!”
At the maid’s panicked gasp, I peeled my eyes open.
A slender, elegant hand had firmly caught the maid’s wrist mid-swing, halting the rod in the air. The face belonging to that hand was one I recognized all too well.
The maid holding the switch froze. The other court maids froze. And I froze, too.
The breath caught in every throat.
“S-Suk-bin-jaga...”
The maids' faces drained of color, turning pasty white. Mine probably looked identical.
As if dealing with Suk-bin’s feral maids wasn’t bad enough, the final boss herself had appeared.
...I should have just taken the beating.