The King of Joseon.
A word that, to many, carried absolute weight beyond even speaking aloud.
The ruler who stood above millions, the father of the people.
Though royal authority had weakened, to speak lightly of the throne was still close to taboo.
So when struck directly, Heungseon Daewongun faltered.
"The… the King of Joseon… Your Highness, I…"
"Why so nervous? It is not an improper question."
I calmly lifted my teacup.
"You are a royal relative, are you not? You are educated and understand international affairs. There is no reason you should not be considered."
"…There have been such rumors."
"I thought as much. Did you remain silent to avoid appearing ambitious?"
He could not deny it.
The throne of Joseon.
If given the chance, who would not be tempted?
Yet the way I spoke of it made it feel strangely unreal.
"…May I speak honestly?"
"That is why we are here."
"If the opportunity truly exists… I would like to try."
I said nothing for a moment.
He watched me carefully, as if searching for something.
Then I lightly tapped the teacup with a spoon.
"I created this setting for open conversation, yet that is all you can say? If that is your attitude, you will not reach that throne."
"…But…"
"Speak honestly. If you wait for others to hand it to you, I will eliminate you myself."
He understood.
I already knew his thoughts.
If he wanted the throne, he had to commit to it openly.
Otherwise, he would be discarded.
"Do you already have a candidate in mind?"
"This is the first time I have heard the full list. It is too early for that. But tell me, did the Andong Kim or Pungyang Jo clans approach you?"
"…They tried. I avoided them."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
This was the moment.
Then he spoke.
"I believed that the one chosen by Your Highness would become king. Since I am the only one here who has met you before, I thought I had the advantage."
His heart was racing, his breathing uneven.
I studied him briefly, then nodded.
"Well done. If you want something, you must say it clearly. Only then can I consider it seriously."
"…Do I have the qualifications to compete?"
"Qualifications? That is not important."
"…Pardon?"
"As long as you meet the formal requirements, the rest does not matter. What matters is ability. Whether you are fit to sit on that throne."
He felt a chill.
To him, the throne was absolute.
To me, it was a position to be filled.
"Then… what qualities do you seek?"
"That is my question. Why should you be king?"
"Because I understand reality better than the others."
"The reality of Joseon?"
"The reality of the world. I know how small Joseon is. Among the royal relatives, none understand this better than I do."
"That is your own claim."
"Then look at my actions. I did not go to the Andong Kim or Pungyang Jo clans. I came directly to you. That alone proves my point."
That was enough.
I looked him over once more, then nodded lightly.
"I understand. Then we will meet again in Joseon."
"…When will you arrive?"
"I still have matters to settle here. Perhaps by the end of the month."
He stood and bowed.
"Then I will await you in Joseon."
"Prepare well."
It was not a promise.
But it was enough.
Knowing one's place is an important virtue.
Often seen negatively, but not always.
Joseon was a perfect example.
If it believed itself equal to Britain, disaster would follow.
The same applied to the great clans, who still thought they could decide the king.
Compared to them, Heungseon Daewongun's awareness was exceptional.
Aside from Kim Jwa-geun, few in Joseon understood the situation as clearly.
Still, that did not mean I had decided.
A capable ruler was useful.
But a controllable one was sometimes even more useful.
If necessary, I could simply elevate Cheoljong of Joseon and govern through him.
But that would increase my workload.
It was better to select someone competent and let things run smoothly.
Objectively, Heungseon Daewongun was a strong candidate.
He was reform-minded and already connected to me.
His flaws were his aggressive nature and potential issues with his heirs.
Still, there were ways to manage that.
After organizing my thoughts, I began preparing to leave.
"Deliver this to Prime Minister Charles Wellesley, and this to Her Majesty."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Once replies arrive, we will proceed to Joseon. Prepare accordingly."
"Yes, sir."
The young officer saluted sharply.
"Your name?"
"Charles George Gordon, Your Highness!"
"Good. You may be accompanying me to Joseon. Be prepared."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Watching him leave, I leaned back and closed my eyes.
It had been twenty years.
Yet I still remembered leaving Joseon vividly.
Now, it was time to return.
To see how that land would receive me.
The fleet in Shanghai began preparing.
Soon, I would set foot there again.