Years later
The assembly hall stood silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Cold stone walls towered over the gathered ministers, their faces grim and stoic. Long windows let in muted light, casting shadows on the polished floors. The throne at the far end of the hall gleamed faintly, a reminder of the power that hung in the balance. The ministers were already in their places, all eyes on the door, waiting for the king's arrival.
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The ministers all stood up to pay their respects to the king as he entered the assembly hall.
"Your Majesty," the ministers and subjects greeted, bowing in unison.
The king staggered to his seat with the help of the eunuch, Eunuch Ho. Once seated, he massaged his forehead with his hand. He'd been feeling ill for the past few days, dark circles under his eyes showing he hadn't been sleeping much lately.
"Pardon me, Your Majesty, but is Your Majesty not feeling well?" State Minister Lord Shikryeom asked, his eyes fixed on the king.
The king laughed lightly. "I really appreciate your concern, Lord Shikryeom, but no! I wouldn't dare be ill when surrounded by such great men like the ministers," he said, the words laced with irony.
Lord Shikryeom cleared his throat, his expression still aloof.
"The ministers can't thank you enough for your generosity, Your Majesty," Left State Minister cooed, stepping forward slightly.
"Your Majesty, the villagers have been talking," Left State Minister continued, his tone becoming much more serious.
"Yes, Your Majesty," another minister added, "The people have been growing concerned about the sick prince becoming the crown prince. They don't see a prince in such a fragile state as their future king." He paused, taking a breath. "Your Majesty…"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lord Shikryeom said. "Hence, we've come to the conclusion that the crown prince should be disposed of." His words caused an uproar among the king's loyal subjects.
The king frantically tugged at his robe, fully aware of the strings the ministers were trying to pull. He'd been through this before. He had lost his first heir, and now the ministers were attempting the same manipulation once again.
The memories of those years still lingered in his mind—sharp and raw, like a wound that never fully healed.
He had been so discreet that no one had known of the crown prince's illness. He knew the ministers had always found ways to manipulate situations, but he would never again give them the satisfaction of trampling on the royal family's legacy.
The king stared at Lord Shikryeom, his gaze cold and unyielding. The atmosphere in the hall grew icy, his glare making it clear that he would not back down.
He might have been a puppet king, but not anymore. He would provide a king who would listen to the people's cries, a king willing to sacrifice for them—not one blinded by power.
The king chuckled softly.
"Thank you. It feels so peaceful to have leaders who greatly care for the well-being of the state. The crown prince was indeed ill, only due to the weather."
"Lord Shikryeom, do you see the crown prince as unfit to govern the people?" he asked, his gaze still fixed intently on the minister.
Lord Shikryeom grunted in distrust, his teeth clenched, his expression carefully neutral.
Without waiting for the minister's response, the king asked again.
"Minister, who among the princes do you see as fit for the position of crown prince?"
The assembly hall began to echo with murmurs as the ministers and the king's loyal subjects whispered among themselves.
The king smirked. "Should the question be directed to the princes? Anyone who sees themselves fit to be crowned will take the position immediately." His gaze remained sharp as he watched the ministers, their whispers growing louder.
The eunuch motioned to one of the palace guards and asked him to fetch the princes.