Hwang Bong-bong's Taste
Heaven was truly merciless.
No matter who caught me, this was the kind of humiliation that would keep me kicking my blankets in shame for the rest of my life. But of all people, did it really have to be the worst possible person?
Should I just collapse and play dead?
I briefly weighed the option, but his piercing gaze was already burning holes into me. Bowing my head, I offered a polite, stammering greeting.
“H-hello, Yeoning-gun-jaga.”
“I am well enough… but what in the world were you doing? Throwing punches, kicking the air, babbling to yourself, and then tumbling onto your own behind.”
Did he really need to catalog every humiliating detail of my one-man circus? I was already mortified enough as it was.
Prince Yeoning crossed his arms with a huff, his expression brimming with sheer determination to uncover the logic behind my bizarre spectacle.
“Um, well, what I was doing was…”
Spin, brain, spin. Give me an excuse—anything other than being possessed by an evil spirit or hallucinating!
“Actually… just in case I run into s-scary people… I was doing some… special twaining…”
Even to my own ears, it sounded like the most pathetic excuse imaginable, and my voice trailed off into an embarrassed squeak.
“Hmm…”
What?
Prince Yeoning was looking at me—after I had just spouted utter nonsense—with an unnervingly grave look in his eyes.
“The shock you suffered must have been far greater than I thought.”
…Say what? What shock did I suffer?
Presently, Prince Yeoning continued.
“I hear the court ladies of Bogyeongdang treated you terribly. Ah, not that I am someone who meddles in petty gossip… but a eunuch happened to mention it in passing, which is how it reached my ears.”
Honestly, I was a bit startled. First, because despite the incident occurring in the quarters of his mother, Suk-bin, a mere child like him was already thoroughly briefed on such palace rumors. And second, because of the overwhelming pity radiating from his gaze.
It was a demeanor completely at odds with everything I had envisioned of Prince Yeoning.
“My mother, Suk-bin, often told me how much hardship she endured during her own days as a court maid. For the servants of Bogyeongdang to commit such an outrage…” Clicking his tongue, he went on: “By nature, the attendants of Bogyeongdang prize court etiquette and understand proper decorum. My mother is an exceedingly strict woman. It seems a few unruly elements must have slipped in among them.”
Yet even while reproaching them, he did not forget to uphold his mother’s dignity.
As expected, utterly meticulous.
In any case, hearing such words not from the Crown Prince, but from Prince Yeoning, felt remarkably strange and intriguing.
Wait… perhaps I had him wrong from the start.
Whatever kind of man King Yeongjo would become in the distant future, the Prince Yeoning standing before me was only seven years old—a tender green sprout whose personality had yet to fully take shape.
I shouldn't view him with such cynical eyes.
Not that I harbored any grandiose illusions about reforming Prince Yeoning or anything.
Though maybe… just a tiny bit…?
Even while those thoughts drifted through my mind, his lecture continued uninterrupted.
“Thus, I intend to reprimand the court ladies of Bogyeongdang severely. Looking down on an aegi-nain simply because she is young means they could just as easily look down on a young prince. I shall hold them strictly accountable so that they never dare repeat such insolence.”
It wasn't incorrect, and from my standpoint, it was certainly something to be grateful for, but…
Man, he is brutally persnickety. And why does he talk so much?!
I already felt a pang of pity for the servants assigned to Prince Yeoning's quarters, whoever they were.
“So, Bong-bong.”
“Yeth?”
“If anyone tries to bully you again, tell me without delay.”
“Wha-at?”
“Tell them you will report it to Prince Yeoning, and that I shall scold them thoroughly.”
“…Thank you, Jaga.”
I blinked at Prince Yeoning dumbly, then bowed since thanking him seemed like the polite thing to do. Prince Yeoning puffed his chest out with a smug look that said, Just trust in me.
This is really strange…
I was trying hard not to harbor prejudices against him. Even so, I found it impossible to shake the sudden thought that flashed through my head.
Prince Yeoning—the future Great King Yeongjo. What was he the poster child for?
The rice chest…
Mm, no, let's not go there. Far too grim.
The poster child of extreme favoritism.
In his dealings with people, his bias was notoriously severe. He showered a select few of his children with torrential affection, while treating others with unspeakable cruelty. So, could it be that Prince Yeoning…?
Has he decided to favor me?
I mused, watching him beam with triumph. It didn't exactly feel like a blessing, but it wasn't necessarily a curse either. At the very least, staying on the good side of someone with such an extreme temperament was a stroke of good fortune. So long as he didn't cling to me with weird demands about calling him "Older Brother," I couldn't care less.
“Then I shall take my leave now, Jaga.” In any case, not wishing to prolong our conversation, I offered a quick curtsy.
“Where are you going?”
“I'm on an errand to Jeoseungjeon.”
“What errand?”
“I need to deliver gotgam…”
Looking down at the dried persimmons splattered across the dirt, words failed me.
“His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is not at Jeoseungjeon,” he noted matter-of-factly. “There is an event at the Chunbang, so most of his attendants have accompanied him there. Furthermore, those dried persimmons are entirely ruined.”
Why did he have to be so insufferably logical? I genuinely wanted to crack open his skull and peek inside, but I held back and asked politely:
“So?”
“In short, there is no need for you to run that errand.”
“Then I will head back to Chwiseondang—”
He cut right through my sentence.
“Since you have no errand to run, you must have time to spare. Come, I shall show you something marvelous.”
“…Something marvelous?”
I wanted to act aloof, but to be honest, my curiosity was slightly piqued. Besides, my initial tension had dissipated considerably compared to our first encounter. It didn't seem like a bad idea to use this chance to gauge Prince Yeoning's personality a bit further.
Seeing how well-informed he is about Bogyeongdang, maybe I can dig up some intelligence on Suk-bin. Would it really be possible to turn Prince Yeoning into my palace informant?
While I was lost in thought, he suddenly thrust something toward me.
“Look. You don't have anything like this, do you?”
…Where have I heard that playground brag before?
At any rate, what he held out was a clear glass marble. Shimmering with iridescent hues, it was undoubtedly a costly bauble. It was luminous, sparkling, and looked like it would roll delightfully well. In other words: pretty trash.
The seven-year-old Prince Yeoning looked so puffed up with pride as he showed it off that I pretended to marvel at it.
“It's pwetty.”
“Pretty doesn't do it justice! An envoy returning from the Qing Dynasty specially procured this. You wouldn't find a five-colored marble like this anywhere in all the eight provinces of Joseon.”
“Ah. I see.”
“If you want it, you may have it.”
To me? Just like that?
“Ah… weally?” I asked back without a shred of genuine excitement.
“Truly! Just say the word if you wish to possess it.”
Honestly, I hesitated for a second. Not because I actually wanted the marble, but because I didn't want to ruffle Prince Yeoning's feathers. But taking it was definitely troublesome. Seeing how much he emphasized its rarity, taking something I didn't even want felt like putting myself in his debt for no reason.
“Thank you so much for your kind heart. But I don't even know how to play marbles… and I'd worry about losing something so precious. Most of all, I have no use for something so expensive, Jaga.”
“Is that so?” Prince Yeoning put the marble away, unable to conceal the disappointment on his face. “Then what is it that you want?”
He was far more persistent than I had anticipated.
Wait… is he feeling guilty on behalf of the Bogyeongdang court maids?
I hadn't pegged him as such a delicate soul. Figuring any answer was better than silence if I wanted to make a quick exit, I gave a flippant reply:
“I like useful things. Even if they aren't pwetty, things you can actually use every day.”
For instance: silver ingots, gold bars, precious gems… In short: If you're going to pity me, give me cash.
Just then, Prince Yeoning let out an “Ah!” as if struck by inspiration.
“Then come with me to Hongseogak for a moment.”
Hong… what?
“Where?”
“Hongseogak. It is the pavilion where books for the Crown Prince and me are kept, and I store all the gifts I have received over the years there.”
He began puffing up with pride once more, his posture radiating: Let me show you something truly magnificent.
“I'm okay, weally…”
“Hongseogak is very close by. It will only take a moment.”
“…Yes.”
There was a limit to how many times I could refuse an invitation from a royal prince. Besides, I was a tiny bit curious to see what a storehouse of rare royal texts looked like. Seeing his desperate itch to show off, I felt curious about what treasures he had stashed away, so I gave in and followed him.
Hongseogak.
The pavilion, bearing a signboard inscribed in elegant calligraphy, was quite compact.
The smell of ink.
It was a space thick with the scent of aged hanji paper and rich black ink. After rustling around somewhere in the back, Prince Yeoning returned clutching a wrapped bundle.
But…
Why is there so much?
He looked like an itinerant peddler carrying his entire inventory on his back. Prince Yeoning swept the wrapping cloth open with a flourish, and the items spilling forth numbered in the dozens at least.
A miniature bow, an intricately carved spinning top, sparkling jewel beads, child-sized ornaments, jade Go stones…
Just as I was gazing unimpressed at this mountain of exquisite yet utterly useless aristocratic junk—
Wait, that's—!
My eyes flew wide open.