Di Lan entered the hall with heavy steps, sitting before his parents as a volcano simmered within him. The King welcomed him warmly, his face glowing with pride.
Ah, the groom has arrived! Tomorrow is your auspicious day, my son. Have you come for some advice from your mother? She is, after all, an expert in matters of the heart.
Di Lan gritted his teeth, his voice low and strained.
Yes, Your Majesty, I wished to ask the Queen some very specific matters regarding the bride.
The King laughed softly.
It's better not to ask, my son! Let mystery shroud the beginning. Sometimes, mystery makes life more beautiful. Believe me, I speak from experience.
He turned to the Queen with a gaze full of love.
The Queen placed her hand on the King's arm gracefully.
Believe me, Your Majesty, even I had to ask your mother about you before our wedding to know how to handle your temperament. It is fine I will answer his questions and return to you.
The King stood, satisfied.
Very well. I have other matters to attend to at the Council, and you have much to prepare for tomorrow. I shall leave you with the Crown Prince, my beloved.
He squeezed his son's shoulder encouragingly and left, leaving behind a terrifying silence the kind that precedes a storm.
The Seal That Betrayed Its Master
The moment the door closed and they were alone, De Lan turned toward his mother with a gaze burning with reproach. He asked, his voice trembling with the sheer force of his rage:
- Is there something you wish to tell me, Your Majesty? Or will you wait until the catastrophe unfolds tomorrow?
The Queen straightened her posture with a cold dignity, speaking with a calm that only fueled De Lan's inner fire:
- It seems you have finally learned the identity of the bride.
De Lan growled through gritted teeth, sparks of fury flying from his eyes:
- I want to know, why is the bride not the girl I requested by name? Why is it not Mi Fa?
The Queen replied swiftly and decisively, leaving no room for argument:
- Simply because she did not succeed!
Taste or Scheme?
De Lan shouted in her face, marking the first time he had ever dared to raise his voice against his mother, the Queen:
- How could she not succeed when she is an artist? It is obvious that you aided your niece to bypass the trials!
The Queen lost her patience, standing firm and formidable before her son, declaring:
- If I had aided her, then how do you explain that you were the one who chose her painting from among them all? Why did you not choose the painting of the girl who drew you with such precision, knowing even the smallest details of your attire? It was you who preferred my niece's work, De Lan, not I! Your own taste is what ensnared you, not my schemes.
De Lan recoiled a step, a shattered, tearful look appearing in his eyes, and said in a voice heavy with resentment:
- And how am I to know that you didn't bring in a secret artist to paint it for her? It's impossible... impossible for her to be the creator of such art!
The Prince's Rebellion: The Brush of Joseon
The Queen's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and offense. She spoke in a voice trembling with authority, her tone rising slightly without tarnishing her royal poise:
- How dare you accuse me of deception? Do you think I would risk the throne's reputation for a mere ruse? You were the one who chose the girl who has won dozens of local competitions the one the people call 'The Brush of Joseon' for her magnificent art!
De Lan recoiled a step, his patience entirely depleted as he felt cornered by the walls of the harsh truth. He cried out in disbelief:
- And how was I to know? How could I have guessed that such a rebel is the very owner of that title?
The Queen returned to her lethal composure, sitting with flawless grace as she spoke in an indisputable tone:
- And now, having learned the truth, let matters take their natural course. The wedding is tomorrow, and the King has already issued a decree to that effect.
De Lan retorted, sparks of fury flying from his eyes:
- And I am the last to know of this decree! No, I will not let anything pass.
Then he roared, his rebellion reaching its zenith:
- I will not marry tomorrow, and she shall not be my wife!
The Rift of the Throne
At this, the Queen rose abruptly, her voice thundering through the hall, casting aside her royal poise, the protocols of speech, and her lofty stature:
- You are the Crown Prince of this great kingdom! You are no street urchin to rebel against the laws and break the royal seal you set with your own hand. The word has been spoken, the King has signed, and there is absolutely no turning back!
De Lan stood with a wounded majesty, fixing his mother with a gaze brimming with bitter defiance, and said:
- Then let us do as you wish. The wedding shall proceed, but I will never wed her with my heart. No matter what you do, she will remain suspended neither a wife nor a free woman. I shall leave her as solitary as you left me to burn within my own delusions!
The Crown Prince turned his back on his mother, heading toward the door with strides as firm as mountain rock. He spoke in a resolute voice that severed all hope:
- You shall not force her upon me again, Mother the era of blind obedience is over.
The Broken Covenant: The Final Gamble
The Queen attempted to regain her composure, casting her final card like someone trying to extinguish a blazing fire with a single drop of water:
- But you shall have Mi Fa as your primary concubine if you complete this marriage... for she was the one who ranked second after your cousin.
She then paused, exploiting his deep love for his late grandmother, and added in a moving tone:
- In fact, this was your grandmother's wish before she passed away. If you hold any respect for her and her decisions, you will not refuse this union.
It seemed De Lan would not be deceived again by his mother's words or her veiled promises. He spoke in a dry tone, dripping with suspicion:
-And is there a royal decree for that as well?
The Wounded Beast's Cage
The Queen ceased her attempts she realized with bitter certainty that he would not change his mind. But De Lan turned toward her, his eyes burning with furious resolve, a mocking smile dripping with bitterness etched upon his face:
- I shall make Mi Fa mine alone, the true queen of my heart and my palace, while I shall excise that 'wife' from my life entirely, as if she never existed.
He took a single step closer, fixing his mother with a gaze that turned the blood in her veins to ice, and added in a voice like a serpent's hiss:
- I hope you live happily now, having destroyed your niece's life with your own hands. Because of me and because of your stubbornness I promise you, she shall never find love as long as I live within these palace walls!
He exited, slamming the door behind him, leaving a thunderous silence and a shock that paralyzed the Queen. She stood there, wondering in deep terror: Was she truly trying to protect Jo Ri... or had she, unintentionally, thrown her into a locked cage with a wounded beast?
The Funeral of the Swing
He marched with a frantic pace, fury boiling in his veins like lava. As he passed the garden the place that held his rosy dreams only hours ago the sight of the swing reignited the fire in his chest.
He lunged at it savagely, tearing away the flowers adorning its ropes with his bare hands. He tried to rip it down, but the swing as if clinging to their old memories refused to budge. He roared at his servant:
- Bring me an axe... NOW!
The moment he grasped the axe, he didn't stop at the swing. He turned his rage toward the tree trunk itself. He struck it with relentless, brutal blows, showing no mercy, as if striking down an enemy on a battlefield. The mighty tree crashed to the ground, and with it, the swing of dreams shattered into pieces.
As the tree fell, so did Di Lan's pride. He collapsed onto the ground amidst the debris and torn petals, sobbing with a bitterness he had never known. It was the cry of a man forced to live a nightmare of his own making. He wept until his voice choked and faded into silence, leaving nothing in the garden but the whistling wind and the wreckage of memories.
Remains of a Dream
On the opposite side of the palace, a bride lay staring at the ceiling with a bewildered gaze. Sleep eluded her, for her mind could not grasp the Crown Prince's erratic behavior.
"How could he imprison my mother?"
she wondered bitterly.
"Was he truly unaware of my identity? Did he believe there was another bride meant for him?"
It was the only explanation that justified the piercing, cold looks he had given her lately.
Her heart found no peace, so Jo Ri slipped through the darkness of the night like a mirage, fleeing the endless cell of her own questions. Driven by a vague longing and a shattered hope, her feet led her to the garden the place she thought would be her sanctuary. But upon arriving, she felt as though the very earth had split beneath her.
She saw De Lan on his knees, weeping with a bitterness she had never witnessed in a man before. Hovering over him was Mi Fa, the girl who had rivaled her for both the throne and his heart. In the gloom, she appeared like an angel comforting a wounded demon.
"Why is she here?"
Jo Ri wondered through a lump in her throat, but her heart began to race with a violent pulse she could not comprehend.
Ju Ri froze, her breath hitching in her chest. Her eyes darted toward the spot where the swing had been, and her heart sank. The great tree, the witness to her childhood, had been cut down without mercy, its wooden body half-submerged in the water. The swing lay crushed beneath it like a corpse. In that instant, the fog cleared the bitter truth hit her like an icy gale:
"He never wanted me. He loves Mei Fa, and he thinks the painting belongs to her".
The silence was broken by a voice as soft as silk Mei Fa's voice, speaking from behind the broken Prince:
- What are you doing, my Lord, and why is there all this destruction?
If you were in Ju Ri's shoes at this devastating moment, would you step out of the shadows to confront them and end this farce before the wedding? Or would you return in silence, heart turned to ice, preparing to make their upcoming union a living hell?