A Resemblance
“Geumdeok. Come here.”
The King’s voice rang low and resonant.
To think the creature I had dismissed as a common stray was actually King Sukjong’s renowned royal cat, Geumdeok! Yet I had no leisure to marvel over the revelation.
King Sukjong the Great…
The sheer weight of his presence utterly overwhelmed me.
Before my eyes stood an absolute sovereign blessed with unassailable legitimacy that none dared contest—the fearsome monarch who had orchestrated sweeping political purges and drowned the court in storms of blood.
This is the twenty-sixth year of King Sukjong’s reign, which means he must be around forty.
He was a remarkably handsome man, exuding an aura of hardened vigor and mature majesty. What struck me most, however, was his gaze.
His eyes are piercing. Just like a tiger.
A good number of historical dramas depicted him as an indecisive monarch pushed around by the women of the inner palace, but that was absolute nonsense. In a single word, Sukjong was relentless. Whether pouring his heart into passionate love or purging his political foes, he never once hesitated.
Keep your wits sharp.
The man before me was the historical figure infamous for having the most notoriously volatile temper in the entire Joseon dynasty.
Tense to the bone, I covertly tried to read his mood. His attention, however, was fixed not on me, but on the cat—no, on Geumdeok.
…That two-faced little freeloader.
Seeing Geumdeok made a swell of indignity rise in my throat. Just moments ago, she had been thrashing wildly while tugging on the cursed doll, but now she had transformed into the very picture of regal, serene elegance. She looked every inch the pampered royal pet.
Which meant…
The cursed doll was currently left dangling in none other than my own hands.
I’m doomed.
What terrible karma bound me to this dreadful thing? Was it even possible to sever this ill fate in this lifetime? I considered slipping it behind my back, but Sukjong was standing far too close for that.
Bending down with measured grace, the King gathered Geumdeok into his arms. Then, his gaze slowly shifted onto me.
“Have you been in good health and joy, Sang-gam Mama?”
With the cursed doll dangling awkwardly from my fingers, I bowed my head in the most formal greeting my toddler body could manage. At that moment, a quiet command descended.
“Raise your head.”
“…Yeth.”
Terrifying as it is, when the King commands, you obey.
An intimidating gaze that made my knees tremble bored straight into me. Strangely enough, Sukjong’s eyes lingered on my face for an unusually long time. It was a tenacious, searching stare, as though he were desperately trying to unearth something buried within my features.
Then, words slipped past his lips that left me completely baffled.
“…You look familiar.”
For a fleeting second, his tiger-like eyes wavered faintly.
“No, that cannot be,” he murmured under his breath.
…I look familiar? Me? To whom, exactly?
A human being, right? Surely he doesn’t mean I resemble Geumdeok or this hideous doll.
A storm of question marks erupted in my head, but panic over being interrogated about the doll took precedence. Besides, he hardly seemed the sort to indulge me if I dared to chirp, ‘Who do I look like?’
“A child court maid.”
The observation he cast toward my trembling form was thoroughly detached. His tone sounded much like someone noting, ‘A pebble, I see.’
“Were there children so small within the palace?”
“Yeth. There are, Sang-gam Mama.”
“How old are you?”
“Three years old.”
“Where do you serve?”
“Chwiseondang.”
“Chwiseon…”
I saw it clearly with my own eyes. His expression tightened ever so slightly for an instant.
“Is that so.”
“Yeth, Your Majesty.”
Doing my best to conceal my fright, I quickly read his countenance. Though the mention of Chwiseondang had elicited a subtle reaction, he did not appear angry or displeased. To be precise, his face had become an impenetrable mask.
And then, the moment I dreaded finally arrived.
“What is that you hold in your hand?”
Sukjong’s eyes dropped to the cursed doll clutched in my fingers.
Should I say it belongs to Geumdeok? Claim I’ve never seen it before in my life? Or say it fell straight out of the sky?
My brain whirred desperately, but no brilliant excuse came to mind. Above all, the recent encounter with Suk-bin weighed heavily on my conscience.
‘His Majesty entrusted me with an urgent, confidential matter.’
The parting blow Suk-bin had delivered on the day we crossed paths—the very words that had dealt a crushing defeat to Jang Hui-bin. That statement was clear proof that Suk-bin still maintained close favor with the King.
If I try to spin a clumsy lie and get caught, my head will roll.
I made my decision. I would maintain consistency.
“I picked it up near Seonjeongjeon… but the kitty—I mean, the honorable Geumdeok—snatched it in her mouf and wan away with it.”
“You picked up such a thing near the royal council hall, of all places?”
As expected of King Sukjong. He doesn't miss a beat.
Yet what choice did I have? Having spoken, I had no choice but to push straight ahead.
“Yeth. I picked it up near the royal council chamber.”
His icy gaze narrowed as he inspected the cursed doll, scanning for any inscribed names or telltale marks carved upon the fabric. My mouth grew bone-dry. Cold sweat soaked through the back of my small jacket.
His eyes shifted slowly.
From the doll to my face.
And then… to Geumdeok.
“Geumdeok, you scoundrel.”
Sukjong clicked his tongue at the feline.
“You had been quiet for a spell, yet you drag in such filth once again?”
“Meow?”
Hearing his scolding, the strength nearly evaporated from my knees.
I survived. I actually survived!
Oh, praise be to this feline menace—nay, this glorious furry savior!
Even while chiding her, Sukjong’s long fingers remained wholly devoted to stroking Geumdeok’s plush coat.
He really is an incorrigible cat fanatic.
Watching this terrifying sovereign, notorious for wiping out entire ministerial factions at the drop of a hat, casually fuss over a spoiled house cat was a deeply surreal experience. At any rate, what mattered was that he no longer harbored any suspicion regarding the cursed doll.
In moments like this, what was the only proper course of action?
A swift exit.
Carefully judging the mood, I folded myself into a deep, polite bow.
“Then, Sang-gam Mama, this humble servant will take her leave—”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Chwiseondang.”
A brief pause of about two seconds stretched between us.
Fleeting as it was, an ominous prickle flared along my nape, warning me of impending trouble.
“The palace grounds are vast. Will you not lose your way wandering about alone?”
“No. I go about just fine on my own, Sang-gam Mama.”
“Then I shall escort you myself.”
“…Eh?”
My mouth fell open as I stared blankly up at him.
Your Majesty? Escorting me?
…Why on earth?!
Pant. Pant.
Huff. Wheeze…
Good grief, I can't breathe!
Sukjong showed no mercy when it came to shortening his long strides for my benefit. I was left sprinting desperately behind him, my stubby toddler legs churning as fast as they could go.
Spare this poor child maid!
As I wheezed and gasped for air, he glanced back over his shoulder.
“It appears my pace is too fast for you.”
“Not at all, hah… Your Majesty. Huff… It is… wheeze… because my legs are… gasp… far too short… hic…”
Sukjong’s lips twitched faintly.
Wait, did he just smile?
A smile from King Sukjong! I felt certain I had just witnessed one of the rarest historical spectacles in all of Joseon. His pace slowed noticeably after that, allowing me to catch my breath and walk without my lungs bursting.
His true thoughts remain a mystery, but… he does possess an accommodating side toward young maids.
Come to think of it, historical records noted that Sukjong had a soft spot for small children.
His favoritism among his sons became ruthless later on, but when they were little toddlers, he doted on them relentlessly.
Patter, patter. Staring at the broad expanse of Sukjong’s back, I fell into deep contemplation.
What kind of person was the real King Sukjong?
Even as someone whose academic livelihood had revolved around researching the Sukjong era, it was a question I had never been able to answer with absolute certainty. He was an exceptionally multi-dimensional figure—a cold-blooded ruler who wielded the blade of supreme power with chilling precision, yet also a man driven by torrential, uncontrollable outbursts of raw emotion.
I really want to know what kind of person you truly are.
I covertly peered up at his profile.
For now, he seems calm. In a fairly good mood, even.
Cradling the cat as he walked, there was no sharp or dangerous edge to his expression. So…
I decided to take a gamble.
“Hehe!”
“…?”
Hearing my silly, goofy giggle, Sukjong turned his head toward me.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because the kitty is so pwecious! I've never seen such an adowable kitty in all my whole life, Your Majesty.”
“Hmph.”
Aha, I saw that! The corner of his mouth twitched again!
As I watched this sight—which was turning out to be far less rare than historical records suggested—he spoke up.
“Indeed. This little Geumdeok of mine is remarkably charming.”
Ding!
[Successfully won over the doting cat butler!]
[Target’s favorability is skyrocketing!]
It felt as though I could literally see game notification windows rolling up before my eyes.
All the while, I looked up at Sukjong and beamed, flashing the brightest, most cherubic smile I could muster. The expression I channeled was the innocent grin of Prince Yeonnyeong, Yi Hwon, whom I had encountered earlier that day. I wanted Sukjong to feel that very same disarming charm—the feeling of all guard crumbling away before pure, unadulterated childhood innocence.
I am harmless. I am merely a sweet, harmless, utterly incompetent little child…
Sukjong silently looked down at my giggling face. Though he offered no praise, the chilling menace from our initial encounter was nowhere to be found. How should I describe it? There was a distinct touch of nostalgia in his eyes.
A faint wisp of loneliness seemed to brush across his features as well.
He definitely isn't on guard against me anymore.
Instinct told me that the long-awaited moment had finally arrived. The chance to solve an academic curiosity I had harbored for years as a Joseon historian had presented itself.
“Sang-gam Mama.”
“Speak.”
“May I ask just one teeny question?”
“Go ahead.”
At last.
Swallowing hard, I posed the fateful question with utter solemnity.
“Sang-gam Mama… I was sad, so I bought some rice cakes…”
King Sukjong.
Is your MBTI a T, or are you an F?