‘Conflict resolution is first mindset and then skill set’. Chaeyoung could practically hear her father’s voice repeating these words in her head as she constantly ran from one end of the palace to the other, gathering last-minute decorations for the Spring Festival. Concubine Kim was usually in charge of organizing palace events; however, this year, the complete planning and coordinating of this celebration was Chaeyoung’s responsibility. To say it was a challenge would be a great understatement.

She had never experienced such potent stress all at once.

Just as she finished sprinkling baby-pink and sky-blue flower petals around the courtyard, the first set of noble guests made their entrance.

“Why are they already arriving?!” Chaeyoung whisper-yelled at Lisa before quickly smoothing out her burgundy, silk skirt and rushing to greet them.

“Your perfectionist tendencies are taking over again,” Lisa laughed lightly, but immediately stopped after Chaeyoung shot her a stern glance, “calm down, Chaeng, the palace looks wonderful.”

A soft sigh escaped Chaeyoung’s lips as she scanned the marvelous venue. The entire front yard of the palace was decorated with strings of colourful paper lanterns. A long stretch of royal-blue silk was laid out from the palace gates to the back of the yard, where the King’s throne had already been set-up. Dozens of dark-mahogany tables and plush, red cushions surrounded the empty centre of the yard, which was reserved for the entertainers. One court maid stood in each of the four corners of the venue, constantly burning lavender and rosemary to fill the palace with the rich scents of spring.

“I suppose you’re right, Lis.”

They exchanged a grin before greeting the next set of guests and leading them to their seats. The remaining guests began to flow in steadily until all the tables were eventually filled and the palace was buzzing with chatter and laughter. Even Jisoo’s family was present, although Jisoo herself was no where to be seen. Her absence did not surprise Chaeyoung though, considering how much she despised these grand events.

Chaeyoung did not blame her. Glancing around, she noticed how each of the attendees were dressed in the finest red and blue silks, their hair styled in perfect twists and braids, and their hands as pampered and smooth as infants who had never worked a day in their lives. Jewels of all colours and designs were draped around their necks, ears, and hands as further proof of their status – as if they could not showcase their nobility enough. Seeing the visible wealth in the yard, Chaeyoung felt a stab of guilt.

She wished she could share this evening of joy and celebration with everyone in the city, not just the nobility. Most of all, she dreamed of a fair Goryeo, free from the shackles of pride and prejudice.

Once everyone had settled in, the King could finally make his grand entrance. A respectful silence engulfed the court when he was announced. Immediately, hundreds of heads bowed down in perfect coordination, only rising when the King had ascended his grand throne.

“Thank you all for joining us, on this joyous spring night, as we celebrate the end of one season and welcome the next. May this spring bring nurturance to our lands and warmth to our hearts,” the King announced in an authoritative voice, smiling as he looked around at his noble relatives and friends alike, “without further ado, let us begin the festivities!”

The guests erupted into cheers before clinking their glasses of wine together and drinking heartily. After that, Chaeyoung’s duties were practically over. Having completed the planning and decorating portion of the event, the remainder of the evening was solely reliant on the entertainers.

The first set of elegantly dressed female dancers successfully captured the guests’ attention. Everyone became quickly engrossed as they floated around the centre of the yard with an impressive level of poise, stepping to the beat of booming drums and the gentle melody of Japanese harps. Even the King appeared impressed. After the dancers finished their routine, a jester stepped onto the court. Within seconds, the entire yard filled with light-hearted laughter as he poked fun at the Mongolians, the Japanese, and Goryeo’s own nobility.

From where she was standing at the entrance of the courtyard, Chaeyoung had a perfect view of the King. Her lips automatically curved into a satisfied smile as she watched him laugh for the first time in what felt like ages. She observed every detail of his face, noting the many wrinkles that had formed underneath his eyes and along his forehead. Despite these discreet signs of aging, his eyes still held a hint of mischief – as if he was just waiting to embark on an exciting journey. She doubted that the twinkle in his eyes would ever disappear. Even if it did, he had already passed the trait down to her, so she would be fortunate enough to see it for as long as she lived. The sentimental part of her found comfort in the fact that she would always carry this piece of him with her.

“Have you prepared a gift for your father?” Daesung’s voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. She had not even noticed that he had left his post beside the King’s throne to stand beside her.

Her eyes grew wide in response, realizing that she had completely forgotten about the iris roots she had gathered for the King to ward off evil spirits.

“Thank you for reminding me, Daesung. I just have to grab it from my chambers!”

She rushed towards the other side of the palace, brushing past the next entertainers – a dozen masked swordsman who had prepared a traditional martial arts routine for the event. A brisk breeze ruffled her carefully braided locks, causing a few chestnut tendrils to come lose and frame her round face. She lifted her skirt as she ran, grabbing a handful of the intricately embroidered burgundy fabric. Her stiff, polished shoes clicked against the ground in eerily perfect synchronization to the beat of the drums as the new entertainers began their routine.

Moments later, she emerged from her bedchamber with a broad smile on her face, her hands clutching the iris close to her chest while she leisurely made her way back to the courtyard. Her heart began to pound quicker with each step she took, a mixture of excitement and nervousness rushing through her as she tried to picture her father’s reaction to the gift.

She walked directly towards the King while the swordsman continued to transition from one mesmerizing formation to the next. As their performance reached its , the sound of the drums began to grow louder, pounding to an intense, fast-paced rhythm. Chaeyoung was mere steps away from the throne when one performer rose above the rest, swinging his sword in the air with swift, deft movements that drew him closer and closer to the King.

No one was prepared for what happened next.

After a blurring series of spins, the sword flew out of the warrior’s hands, accelerating through the air directly towards its target. The King’s heart.

The iris slipped through Chaeyoung’s hands as she watched the sword pierce her father’s chest, the moonlight reflecting her own horrified expression onto the surface of the polished steel. His eyes grew wide upon the impact. A river of scarlet blood gushed down his royal clothing and onto the blue silk covering the ground. He scanned the area until he found Chaeyoung, briefly meeting her tear-filled eyes before his body grew limp against the throne.

Utter chaos erupted around her. All the guests immediately stumbled out of their seats and ran for their lives. The palace guards suddenly began to assist the masked warriors in killing anyone who stood in their way. It became clear at that point that this was not just an assassination. It was a coup.

She had not noticed until that moment that her brother was no where to be seen the entire night. Neither was his mother, or official Yang. It was almost as if they knew – like they had planned for this all along. The reason for their absence, the reason she had suddenly been tasked with planning the event, Mingyu’s rapidly deteriorating temper - suddenly, everything began to click into place.

Screams of terror and cries for help replaced the music and the once royal blue carpet turned devilish-red as Chaeyoung desperately tried to dodge the stampede and rush towards her father. 

Meanwhile, the loud tolling of the palace bell rang in the distance, officiating the