"What a beautiful day." Yoon Ji stood by the latticed window, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath. The garden below shimmered with morning dew, and the distant cry of a cuckoo filled the spring air. She extended a slender hand without looking, and her handmaiden Bu-ran, ever attentive, placed a polished silver mirror into her palm.
She angled the mirror, tilting her chin ever so slightly to catch the light. A pleased smile tugged at her lips. Her skin, after days of tingling herbal compresses and rice bran washes, had finally reached a glow that pleased even her harshest critic, herself. The soreness and redness from the treatment had faded, leaving behind a softness that shimmered like mochi under sunlight.
"Young mistress, the etiquette trainer has arrived." The voice was careful, respectful, and clearly intended to be neutral.
Yoon Ji turned swiftly, the silk sleeves of her robe whispering against her skin. With a sharp wave of her hand, Bu-ran darted out the door to dismiss the trainer.
There was no need for more etiquette today. Yoon Ji had endured endless lessons, how to sit without creasing silk, how to walk without shaking a hairpin, how to speak with reverence yet confidence. The etiquette training felt unnecessary, she'd been taught all of it as a child and only needed to brush up on a few details. She didn't see why the trainer had to show up every three days. But her dancing instructor's recent critique had left her in a sour mood. Stiff? She had been told her body was growing rigid, her movements too rehearsed. It was an utterly ridiculous remark. She had always considered herself naturally graceful, more than flexible enough. The idea of contorting her body into painful stretches just to extend a limb a few inches farther, for movements no one would likely even notice, felt like unnecessary torment.
She had gone through so much painful facial therapy, tight-laced corsets, endless tea ceremonies just to stand out. Now, all she needed was to master the final basics: charm, grace, and presence. The rest, she believed, would come naturally and once the King laid eyes on her, she doubted he would be able to look away.
The last time she stepped outside with Bu-ran by her side and Kang Mu holding an umbrella above her head, she had felt it, the weight of countless stares trailing her every step. She remembered how the merchant selling hairpins fumbled with his hands, his cheeks flushing pink, barely able to meet her gaze. He stammered through his words, utterly disarmed by her presence. Of course, she had no need for flattery from a mere merchant. Still, the attention, the undeniable effect she had on those around her was satisfying. It affirmed what she already knew: she was unforgettable.
"Young mistress, we have arrived."
The voice came from outside her chamber doors.
Yoon Ji briefly wondered what the servant who made the announcement wanted, but she didn't bother checking, such tasks were well within her handmaiden's responsibilities.
"Young mistress..."
Yoon Ji pouted not bothering to turn to Bu-ran, unwilling to be bothered, she was feeling far too pleased with herself. Dismissing the etiquette trainer clearly meant she was done with lessons for the day, and Bu-ran should have understood that instead of trying to get her attention after speaking with the servant who made the announcement.
"Young mistress."
Bu-ran's voice sounded again, this time uncertain. Yoon Ji finally turned in annoyance but was surprised to find her younger brother, Tae Hyun, stepping into her chambers.
But not in his usual formal attire.
He wore a plain sleeping robe made of faded indigo cotton, its edges fraying from wear. The robe hung loose around his shoulders, and the sash at his waist was barely tied, making it resemble more a cocoon than a garment. His hair was uncombed, tousled like a stubborn bird's nest, and he had no shoes on, only worn socks.
"What is with your attire?" she asked, her brow arching in alarm. Internally, she made a mental note to instruct one of Tae Hyun's attendants to quietly dispose of the robe, it looked worn, almost embarrassingly so, as if it belonged more to a peasant child than the son of a noble house.
"It's time for my beauty nap," Tae Hyun replied, unbothered, his voice drowsy yet smug. He narrowed his eyes like a tired cat, placing both hands on his hips. "Don't act like you've just seen something disgraceful."
Yoon Ji sighed and rolled her eyes, half from exasperation, half from affection. Then she quickly checked herself. That habit had to go. Eye-rolling at court could get her labeled insolent. She clasped her hands before her, forcing herself to hold back the comment about his disgraceful attire. If that robe happened to be one of his favorites, he'd likely sense her intention and hide it deep within his closetwell aware that she would have it thrown out the moment he turned his back.
"What do you want?"
"Before I say, I have a question," he said, folding his arms now, his sleeves flopping like wilted leaves.
"What is it?" she asked, already growing impatient. But Tae Hyun didn't seem to share her urgency, he casually took a seat at the table, stretched his arms behind him, palms on the floor, his shoulders high, and crossed his legs, settling in as if he had all the time in the world.
"Why are you going to the palace without me?"
Yoon Ji nearly rolled her eyes again but clenched her jaw and took a steadying breath. "Because, dear brother, you're not invited."
"Oh…" Tae Hyun frowned, genuinely pondering. "So… I need an invite…"
She didn't respond. Tae Hyun had no real reason to go to the palace, but she wasn't about to explain that visits to the royal court required purpose and decorum, not idle wandering to admire flowers and trees like a day at the family estate.
"Young Mistress..." Bu-ran called, her voice tinged with urgency.
Yoon Ji turned slowly and gave her a sharp side-eye. That single look was enough, Bu-ran instantly clamped her mouth shut, swallowing whatever it was she had dared to say.
"But Father never makes an appointment when he goes to the palace," Tae Hyun piped up, arms folded with an innocent frown. "The few times I went with him, we just walked right in."
Yoon Ji exhaled and leaned back against the window sill, the silk of her robe catching the light. "That's because Father is the Minister of Environment," she said with calm authority, "and as such, he doesn't need permission to enter the palace. His role grants him access."
The questions Tae Hyun was asking felt strange, especially since he knew perfectly well what their father's position was. But Yoon Ji had no interest in digging deeper, she simply didn't care to know why he was asking.
Tae Hyun blinked. "What does he even do? I don't think his work is that necessary."
The remark struck her like a slap. Her gaze sharpened, and she straightened her posture, folding her hands with controlled grace.
"You speak so carelessly, Tae Hyun," she said, her tone clipped. "When you step outside our gates, do you not walk on clean roads? Do you not breathe air that doesn't sting your lungs?"
"Well... yes, it is clean."
"And the trees, do they not bloom each season as they should? Are the waterways not maintained, the waste properly managed?"
"Yes, I get it," he mumbled, looking away, "but... I don't see the other ministers giving Father much respect. The last time I followed him into the palace, I even overheard one of them saying that Father's work was useless."
Yoon Ji felt a cold anger rise within her. Her father's dignity, his years of quiet service tossed aside in a careless whisper. She turned her face away briefly to compose herself before speaking again.
"That is only because they don't understand the value of what doesn't shine. Our father's work isn't theatrical. He doesn't host feasts or make grand proclamations. But without clean air and safe streets, what use are laws or taxes or palaces? They take his work for granted because it functions so well."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And do not ever repeat those words in front of anyone again, especially not our servants."
"Out, Bu-ran," she added.
Bu-ran, who had lingered awkwardly at the edge of the room. "But Young mistress..."
"I said out!" Yoon Ji almost yelled.
Bu-ran gave a small bow and slipped out quickly, as if chased by an invisible wind.
Tae Hyun gave a small shrug. "That's why, when you become Queen, you'll need to change that. So that when I join the political office, I can be placed in a high position. Something with real influence. Like Minister of Treasury or Taxation like Grandfather."
Yoon Ji turned back to him, startled. "Where are you even learning all this? You're just seven and you talk like an old man."
"It is not easy to be a scholar," he said, as if that explained everything. "Besides, Grandfather is ancient, yet he refuses to retire. That can only mean his position is one of the best. Why else would he cling to it?"
Yoon Ji couldn't help a quiet smile, amused despite herself. Tae Hyun, for all his sleepy charm and childish arrogance, was already thinking like a court official. But that only made her resolve firmer. She would rise not just for her own sake but to secure a place for him as well.
Surely Tae Hyun hadn't come all this way just to talk about their father's position, not when he knew it was nearly time for his famous beauty nap. So what was he really here for? Something he hadn't said yet.
"For the final time," she said, voice clipped, "why are you here?"
"Oh yes." He slowly stood up. "Mother told me to tell you the gifts are ready, and you should prepare immediately for your palace visit."
Yoon Ji froze.
The mirror slipped slightly in her hand.
"What?" she whispered, mostly to herself. "Ah!"
"Being a future Queen also means knowing why people come to see you before they speak or at least preparing for what's ahead," Tae Hyun said, stretching lazily. "You might want to read a few books. Beauty with brains? That's the real power."
"What do I do… what do I do…"
She cursed softly as she ignored Tae Hyun who watched her with an amused expression before he shuffled out with the same sleepy indifference he came in with.
She hadn't prepared, not mentally, not emotionally for seeing the Queen Dowager. Her heart began to thrum. She had expected at least a few more days, maybe a week, to rehearse her words and polish her confidence. Yet the appointment had come through and worse, the person meant to inform her had delayed.
"Bu-ran!" Yoon Ji's voice rang sharply through the room as her handmaiden came rushing in, nearly tripping over her own feet.
"Why didn't you tell me I was expected at the palace?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing with a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
Bu-ran bowed quickly, flustered. "This servant tried to..."
"Those outside?" Yoon Ji cut in, gesturing vaguely toward the door.
Bu-ran nodded hesitantly. "Yes, young mistress. Those servants were sent to help you prepare for the visit."
"Open the door," Yoon Ji said, steadying her breath. Her tone, though taut with urgency, was composed.
The doors slid open, and a line of their household servants, clearly sent by her mother, stepped in carrying ornate lacquered boxes. They moved with precision, each step practiced, their eyes lowered.
One by one, five of them bowed in greeting then knelt and opened the boxes before her.
The first held delicate, embroidered silk shoes with golden thread woven with cranes and clouds, soles padded with lamb wool.
The second unveiled her garment, a soft blush jeogori with floral patterns stitched into the hem, and a wide flowing chima dyed in deep plum, a color reserved for women of noble birth.
The third box revealed bathing essentials, rose water, sandalwood oil, and fine-ground white jade powder for softening the skin.
The fourth contained a wide array of makeup white paste foundation, scarlet lip tints, and powder infused with crushed pearls.
The last box glistened with hairpins, some plain and silver, others heavy with jade and ruby, each symbolizing status, each chosen for a reason.
Yoon Ji swallowed, the sight making her shoulders tense.
This was it. No more delaying, no more hiding in her chamber waiting for perfection. The Queen Dowager waited for no one, and a late arrival was not just disgraceful but political suicide.
Bu-ran was already at her side with a basin, preparing to cleanse her face once more before makeup was applied.
Yoon Ji closed her eyes for a moment and whispered, "Let's begin."