A moment ago, he refused to leave—now he was stomping off like a sulking child.
Hwayeong blinked in disbelief, watching Sinyeong march away with brisk, irritated steps. Then she hurriedly called out.
“Your Highness.”
At the sound of her voice, Sinyeong halted immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her to say something. He turned around, eyes already impatient.
“What is it?”
There was an unmistakable urgency in his expression—like he was urging her to speak quickly.
Hwayeong pointed in the opposite direction from where he was headed.
“Her Majesty’s quarters are that way,” she said—he’d been about to march straight out of the consorts’ quarters.
Realization dawned on Sinyeong’s face. Without a word, he turned and strode off again—this time in the correct direction.
Then he stopped again.
“Is that really all you have to say?”
It was the second time he’d asked her that.
Hwayeong hesitated.
‘Did he notice something?’
