The court whispered of corruption, but whispers alone could not paint the truth of Kim Yunxi's father, the Minister of Finance. To the world, he was a man of wisdom, a pillar who advised kings. Behind closed doors, his hands were stained with unknown and innocent lives.
Long ago, before the crown prince was born, before the minister of finance become an official, he had once been close to the queen. They had grown together in their youth, bound by laughter and secrets. He had admired her beauty, her brilliance, her courage. But destiny had placed her beside the King, and he was left with bitterness clawing at his chest.
The Queen, though gentle, was resolute. When she bore the prince, Jo Han Ji. Her heart became shield and sword for her son as years went by. The minister, however, could not let go of the bond he once cherished. He lingered, sending tokens, sought her eyes across gatherings. Even with all that, she had cut him off with trembling resolve, writing all that remained in a letter:
"For the sake of my child, never reach for me again. My loyalty lies with my son and my husband, the Emperor."
The letter which should have been lost to silence. Fate placed it in Jo Han Ji's hands.
He read it once, his face unreadable, then returned it to the queen as though it were never intercepted. His words, however, lingered in her ears, "You scrubbed the right words mother, I don't think you will change your mind. I see alot of things and don't think yours are exceptional" the words were simple, but the queen knew better.
---
The prince's love for his parents was fierce. Toward the queen, it was devotion, protective to the edge of madness. Toward the king, it was loyalty sharpened by pride. When concubines entered the palace, Han Ji's temper grew untamed. He despised their presence, despised the threat they posed to his mother's place.
There was one princess in particular, gentle, foreign-born, gifted to the king as a symbol of alliance. On a hunting day, she rode with the royal party, her laughter rising like bells. By the end of that day, she lay lifeless on the forest floor, an arrow lodged through her skull.
No one dared speak the truth aloud, but in every hushed chamber, the same name remained on the tongue of many, Jo Han Ji.
As everyone else, the queen too knew his son to well. She went to her son that night, fear and love breaking her voice.
"Was it you?" she had asked, trembling, her hands cold. "Did you do this to her?"
The young prince turned to her with dark irritation in his gaze. His jaw tightened as he spoke, each word ground between his teeth. He was just a kid,
.
.
A disturbed kid.
"Did you know? Did you decide to cover his stains?" The young prince asked instead.
"Han Ji..." His mother started...,
He cut her off, striding toward the door. At its threshold, he stopped, half-turning, she could only see the sharp line of his cheek.
"Then cover it properly. I won't leave stains when cleaning my staff." Irritation in his voice. It wasn't a threat, the kid was trouble.
Han ji left, but with his mother trembling in the dark. Her heart broke, her son had showed her just how much he despised her nativity. With all this going around, there was still aproblem of the minister....and the Prince knew alot about it. She knew she had to stop it all, her son was no person to give empty threats. And now that he knows, the Emperor was soon knowing too if she didn't find a way out.
---
It was all shadows in the palace walls for the queen had fallen ill. It began with weakness, then a fever, then sudden convulsions that ended her life before the healers could speak a cure. Rumors clung to the palace walls like smoke, poison.
It was arranged with quiet hands. A gift of sweet rice cakes for the queen, laced with a toxin rare and costly. And in his cruelty, Minister Kim had made his own son part of the crime.
Kim Yunxi was there when the cakes were served. He was only a boy, too young to understand the full weight of what he witnessed. He had known, vaguely, of his father's past with the queen. He had seen the secret glances, felt the hush of conversations never meant for his ears. But he did not know it all.
Suspicion arose, Yunxi_naïve, trembling—ate one of the remaining pieces of cake, he knew what could come of this. Death was an easy way out. The sweetness clung to his tongue, and unluckily for him...the poison did not kill him. Maybe he was lucky enough that his father had not poisoned all. He knew the flavourshis once beloved favoured. Yunxi's lips burned, his stomach twisted, but he lived.
That mystery saved him and his family then. Soldiers searched, interrogated, pressed Yunxi for answers. But he kept one secret hidden, something he had seen, or perhaps something he had taken. The last trace of poison disappeared into silence. And the case closed just like that. 'If the cake could not kill the boy, then perhaps the queen had died of fate not treachery' the Emperor had simply said.
The scandal was left unsolved. The queen was buried, her name tied to tragedy, her death chained to bad luck.
And Yunxi carried the guilt of a child who had brushed against truth yet hid it in his chest.
---End of the summary.
Now
In the throne room, Yunxi knelt before Emperor Jo Han Ji. Yunxi's family had been dragged into the light, their corruption stripped bare. The officials lined the court like shadows of judgment.
"You were there," the Emperor's voice thundered, "the day of the Queen's death? The cakes. Where did you get them? You told me you bought them! From where?" The now Emperor, Jo Han Ji had brought back the past, the question everyone wished to ask but had no superiority to ask back then.
Yunxi's lashes trembled, his chest tight as if strangled by unseen hands. He bowed lower, his voice breaking. That was past. Why was he bringing it up again? Did he perhaps find out anything? Did he make a mistake? He needed to answer, but what was he going to say!? He needed to be innocent like he was.
"I...uhhmm..." Words caught in his throat as he looked at the king. He was once his friend, perhaps someone he could lean on. Now...that was long gone, he was here as a traitor to the country, to his Emperor, his people, his.....friend. He needed to choose his words,
The person he was answerable to, could cut throats.
"No… no, Your Majesty. I did not see anything… unusual."
"That's not the answer I want from you!" His words were sour.
"I don't remember" Those weren't the words he needed to say, not even close.
"Believe me...your majesty, I have no idea about it"
The words were dutiful. But within, guilt screamed. Forgive me. Forgive me, please…
At the cold floor where he pressed his forehead, Yunxi closed his eyes, as though the weight of his silence might crush him. His hands clenched, knuckles white, while inside, his secrets clawed at him like ghosts that would never rest.
Though at this moment, he was far used to the ghosts haunting him.