Yoon Ji lifted her head just slightly, her gaze drifting - almost unintentionally - toward the pavilion nestled at the heart of the estate. There, seated with his back straight and composure rigid, was her father. His most trusted guard, Woong, was just approaching him. A familiar stack of documents lay before the Minister, thick as ever, indicating that he was neck-deep in his daily affairs.
Yoon Ji hadn't looked toward the pavilion out of longing or respect. In truth, she had been doing everything possible to avoid him these days. But there was only one route that led out of the estate's walls, and it required her to pass the pavilion, much to her displeasure. The last thing she wanted was to exchange strained pleasantries with her father.
The presence of the pipa-playing woman, Min, still lingering in the household was proof enough that her father hadn't yet given up on his ambition to mold Yoon Ji into something she had no interest in becoming. A graceful Pipa performer. That thought alone irritated her more than she cared to admit.
She slowed her pace as she drew near. Then, as if the heavens had granted her a reprieve, her father rose from his seat and descended the steps of the pavilion, vanishing behind a corridor with Woong close behind. He was gone - at least for now.
Yoon Ji exhaled sharply through her nose, the sigh escaping her lips before she realized it. She had been granted a moment of freedom, however brief. Though she rarely ventured beyond the estate, being confined indoors for so long had begun to gnaw at her nerves. The idea of fresh air and open space felt almost decadent. Today, she had decided she would wait outside the academy gates to meet Tae Hyun after his lessons. She had never done so before, it wasn't her style but the impulse to do something new, something spontaneous, tugged at her.
Her foot, still recovering from the recent sprain, ached dully beneath her weight. Their private physician had warned her to be cautious to avoid sudden movement or excessive walking but Yoon Ji was nearing the edge of her patience. She shifted slightly and winced, biting her lower lip as a sharp pulse of pain ran through her ankle.
As she approached the estate's gate, she noticed a palanquin parked out front, a plain one, with a maid standing stiffly beside it.
"Young mistress, I've arranged a palanquin suitable for your outing," the maid announced with forced cheer.
Yoon Ji didn't acknowledge her. She didn't even glance toward the guard who had been walking behind her. She couldn't recall his name, nor did she care to. The same went for the maid. These days, all she needed to say was "you," and the help would scramble to respond.
If she had known Kang Mu and Bu-ran would be bedridden after the flogging, perhaps she would've intervened when her mother ordered their punishment. They had been competent, if nothing else. Now, she was left with incompetents clumsy hands and clueless feet who didn't even know to bring the palanquin to her residence directly. Instead, they'd made her limp all the way across the estate. The nerve.
Her jaw tightened as she felt the sweat beading at her temple. Her breathing was uneven, and she was one uncomfortable heartbeat away from turning around and going back inside. But she held firm. She needed the air.
Soon, she would be queen.
There would be no wandering the markets then, no walking freely through the capital's decorated streets. No spontaneity. This might be her last season as a "girl" not yet a sovereign, not yet a symbol. One of the few pleasures of the high season was watching the capital transform: silks strung between balconies, flower-dyed fans fluttering like butterflies, vendors haggling under crimson lanterns. If she was lucky, she might even snag a few items before the crowds surged and the prices soared.
She had always considered such outings beneath her. Shopping for bargains was something other ministers' daughters did, girls with less status, less polish. But recently, something about their ordinary joys tempted her. Perhaps she didn't envy them, not exactly, but she was curious about the allure. What did they mean by a "good deal"? And why did it seem to make them so lighthearted? It was something Tae Hyun enjoy doing too so she would accompany him for the day.
With another step toward the palanquin, her lips curved not into a smile, but into a bitter twitch.
"Help me get down!" Yoon Ji snapped, her voice sharper than intended. The guard flinched but obeyed without question.
He had spent the entire walk hesitating, hovering near, unsure whether to offer her a hand or keep a respectful distance. She had caught him glancing several times, as if debating whether to help. Now, she gave him no room for indecision.
He stepped forward and gently took her hand, steadying her as she carefully descended the steps. The maid rushed ahead to lift the palanquin curtain, bowing stiffly with practiced grace. Yoon Ji barely acknowledged her.
Her gaze shifted to the two guards stationed at the estate's gate. They bowed, briefly, just once and then straightened, resuming their positions without ceremony.
Yoon Ji's mouth twitched in irritation.
How casual.
They should have remained bowed until she was fully out of sight. Their indifference, subtle as it was, stung more than it should have.
"Get me more guards. And more servants," she said curtly as she entered the palanquin. Her voice was cool, composed, but firm. There was no way she would travel through the capital with only a single maid and a hesitant guard. Especially not when they were poor replacements for Bu-ran and Kang Mu.
Where were the palanquin bearers, anyway?
A moment later, the familiar lift of movement answered her question. They had already hoisted her into the air. She didn't bother to check whether additional guards or servants had been summoned. If not - well, she'd make sure someone was punished for it.
Settling into the cushion-lined interior, Yoon Ji reached into her sleeve and retrieved a small embroidered pouch. From it, she drew a thin strip of paper, delicate, crisp, and folded neatly.
The real reason she was out today.
It was a message from Woong, written on behalf of Kang Mu. Or more accurately, passed along from the so-called ghost informant.
Yoon Ji unfolded the note and read it silently, her lips barely moving:
"This data is gathered from when the subject ventured outside during the previous high season. The subject attended one entertainment dancing show and one singing show before being apprehended by the subject subjects. Please use this information wisely."
She blinked, then exhaled slowly through her nose. Her expression didn't change, but disappointment curled like smoke in her chest.
That was it? That was all they had?
Carefully, she tore the message into tiny pieces, letting them fall on the floor. She had half a mind to open the curtain and scatter the fragments into the wind, but she stopped herself. Being the Minister of Environment's daughter came with expectations. It would be unseemly if word spread that she had littered the streets of the capital. Scandal had toppled women for far less.
Still, her disappointment lingered.
She had asked for insight into what the King desired in a woman. She had hoped for something revealing, a whispered rumor, a confession from a courtier, something she could use. Instead, she received this vague account of the King watching two performances during last year's high season. A dance and a song. That was all.
So what? Did that mean he loved women who could dance? Women with pretty voices? Or was he merely passing time? Nothing in the message gave her certainty.
Still, she couldn't afford to dismiss it.
At the very least, she could follow the thread. If the King had shown interest in entertainment shows, then perhaps watching one herself would provide some insight. At best, she might learn something worth using. At worst, she'd enjoy a rare outing before palace life stripped her of such freedom.
She adjusted her posture inside the palanquin, the silk of her sleeves rustling faintly. She just needed to find out where the best entertainment spot was but it seemed being inside the palanquin wasn't even making it easy and her foot too, she didn't plan her little investigation well.
After a short while, the palanquin came to a gentle stop.
"Young Mistress, we have arrived," the maid announced softly.
Yoon Ji lifted the curtain slightly, and her maid quickly stepped forward to hold it open properly, allowing her to step out with ease. Yoon Ji gathered her skirts and descended gracefully from the palanquin.
As her feet touched the ground, a flurry of motion greeted her. The academy grounds buzzed with life, students pouring out in clusters, laughter and chatter rising as classes concluded for the day. Some pupils ran to waiting family members, while others joined guards and servants ready to escort them home. Most offered respectful bows as they passed her, though few lingered.
Yoon Ji's gaze swept the crowd, searching for a familiar face among their household's servants or guards. None appeared, and a flicker of confusion crossed her face.
"This servant will go inside and check on the Young Master," the maid offered, bowing low.
Yoon Ji gave a small nod, granting permission, and the maid hurried off toward the academy building.
Left alone, Yoon Ji took a deep breath, her fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of her sleeves. She hated standing idly like this - exposed and unsure - where was Tae Hyun?
Just then, the academy doors opened again, and out walked Song Yeon with Lee Sun Ah by her side.
The sight of the two girls together struck a peculiar chord in Yoon Ji. There was nothing unusual about seeing the Prime Minister's daughter and the Minister of Industry's daughter side by side, they were all of similar age and social standing but it still annoyed her. Perhaps it was the ease of their companionship or how naturally they walked together, laughing softly like they shared some private joy.
Song Yeon, as always, looked beautiful, her long hair gleamed under the sun, and her smile seemed to light up her already delicate features. She brightened further when she spotted Yoon Ji.
Yoon Ji stood quietly doing her best to remain composed as she looked away. Her ankle throbbed faintly beneath her silk shoes, but she kept her posture elegant and upright, unwilling to let even a flicker of discomfort show. She would pretend not to see Song Yeon and maybe she and Lee Sun Ah wouldn't notice her.
"Yoon Ji-nim!" a cheerful voice called out.
Yoon Ji cursed under her breath as she turned to see Song Yeon waving, her expression lit up with the kind of warmth that always seemed too bright to be sincere. Beside her, Lee Sun Ah offered a soft smile of her own.
"It's a good day to see you, Yoon Ji-nim," Sun Ah greeted.
Yoon Ji offered a polite smile in return, perfectly measured. "Song Yeon, Sun Ah...it's good to see you both," she replied smoothly. Her voice held the right level of grace, though her ankle protested with every shift of weight.
As the girls came closer, Yoon Ji's gaze dropped, only briefly to the lacquered case Song Yeon held with care. Sleek and polished, it seemed like a music instrument case.
Before she could ask, Song Yeon followed her gaze and beamed. "Oh! You noticed. It's a pipa case," she said, her smile practically dazzling. "I just started lessons. Getting your own pipa takes time, so I'm borrowing one from the academy until mine arrives."
Yoon Ji blinked, keeping her expression neutral despite the small jolt in her chest as the dots got connected instantly.
So that was it.
Of course her father had known. That was why he had been nudging her so persistently to begin lessons, why he had seemed almost desperate for her to show interest in playing pipa. He knew Song Yeon was already learning and hadn't wanted his daughter left behind.
Guilt pricked at her chest. She had doubted him. Argued. Even stormed out of the room once. And all the while, he had only wanted her to shine.
"Well, what a coincidence," Yoon Ji said, her voice light and airy. "I've just started too. My father found me a teacher."
Song Yeon clapped her hands together in delight. "Really? That's wonderful! I was just telling Sun Ah how hard it is to find someone to practice with. Everyone else seems too busy or uninterested. But now we can play together!"
Yoon Ji's smile tightened just slightly. "Of course. I'll reach out sometime, perhaps we can even play a duet."
In truth, she would rather be exiled than sit beside Song Yeon and pluck strings in harmony. But appearances mattered, and rivals often wore the mask of friends.
"That would be so lovely!" Song Yeon said with genuine excitement. "I look forward to it."
At that moment, footsteps approached, and Yoon Ji's maid appeared, breathless but composed. She bowed quickly.
"Young Mistress," she said softly, careful not to interrupt too harshly, "Young Master left class early. He mentioned he was heading to the market."
Yoon Ji inclined her head calmly, as if everything was as expected. "Then we'll head home."
She turned to Song Yeon and Sun Ah with a graceful nod. "It was nice seeing you both. I'm sure we'll speak again soon."
"Take care, Yoon Ji-nim!" Song Yeon called, waving brightly.
With effortless poise, Yoon Ji stepped into the palanquin, her injured ankle carefully concealed beneath silken layers. As the curtains closed behind her, her smile faded, and she leaned back with a quiet sigh.
So much for coincidence.