by the time joohyun had woken up in her remote jeju cottage for an early morning ride, the small private plane carrying the emperor and his consort had already crashed over a european mountain range.

(they died on impact.

or so the report will eventually say.)

but for three fleeting and precious hours the new empress of korea remained unreachable and unaware.  

joohyun cantered on her stocky and bespeckled horse (affectionately given the epithet cookies and cream, though officially he was nameless) along the vast and impossible landscape of songdang, the ocean and sky nearly indistinguishable from one another as a fog rolled over the immobile tide. in those moments she did not sense the aftershock of her world as she knew it imploding around her. instead, she felt only an incredible sense of freedom and calm and peace.

she wondered, once the news had been delivered and she stood reverently in the empty throne room, if that overwhelming and preternatural serenity had been her brother’s final gift.  

. . .

morning sessions that had been conducted for nearly a thousand years had gradually been simplified over the years. joohyun doesn’t remember the last emperor who had actually held official session in the throne room, but it hadn’t been so for at least three generations.

the prime minister stands in front of her in her office (never seated—that bit of tradition remains). kim minseok is newly appointed and young—the youngest they’ve ever had. joohyun observes him from her desk, her lip quirking upward at the irony of the room’s arrangement. though she is seated above him, the prime minister holds more power than she ever will.

(joohyun is an ornament.

she knows this.

she always has been.)

their greetings are pleasant, but brief. despite this being their first official meeting with joohyun as queen, they had met several times over the mourning period while planning for the late emperor’s funeral.

“your majesty, now that the king has been buried and the mourning period is over i believe it’s time we discussed the next pressing issue…” minseok looks up at her with his almond shaped eyes. “your fate as queen of this nation.”

joohyun raises brow at his changing body language. he fidgets with his hands. he lowers his chin. he looks like a child facing a scolding, not the head of the government.

“and what about my fate, prime minister?”

he clears his throat, hesitating.

“cabinet has discussed it and it was decided that you should get married, for the stability of the country.” he clasps his hands in front of him as if realizing she had noticed his nervous tick. “not to mention, royal weddings are good for international interest. when the late emperor and his consort married the broadcast was watched by over a billion people. and tourism in the following year increased by eighty percent…”

joohyun props her elbows on the table, her lips pursed into a fine line as she processes his words.

“i don’t quite understand your point, mr. kim. of course i’d like to be married—i was never planning on remaining unmarried.”

he shifts awkwardly, fiddling with the buttons of his suit.

“ah, i apologize, your majesty, if my words had caused you to misunderstand: parliament requests that you be married immediately.”

“immediately?” she balks, taking a moment to calm herself from raising her voice. “what kind of time frame is that?”

“within a year, at the latest.”

joohyun stands from her chair, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her dress in order to avoid clenching her fists. a queen must remain neutral, she reminds herself through the seething rage. a queen must never show her hand.

“would we be having this conversation if i were a man? would parliament even dare discuss my personal life if i were a king?”

“i apologize, your majesty. i didn’t mean any offense.”

there had been moments where she’d wondered if minseok would be on her side, but she realizes now that was a silly and naive assumption.

no one was on her side.

joohyun back a breath. she can’t scream. she can’t cry. all she can do is return to her seat.

. . .

“you have convenient timing,” joohyun remarks as she takes a sip of tea.

her mother pauses in front of her before bowing, a smile forming on her lips. a servant quickly pours her a cup of tea before being dismissed with a wave of a hand.

“it would be best if you married, joohyun.”

“are you telling me this as my mother or as the queen mother?”

“both.”

joohyun lets out a laugh. she didn’t doubt her mother still had connections in parliament: she had been head of the monarchy for nearly eight years.

the smile fades as joohyun sets her cup back onto the table.

“what if i say no? what if i tell parliament i will marry on my own terms?”

the queen mother sighs.

“joohyun, it’s that you can’t… but that you shouldn’t. nothing good can come from making enemies out of the government, not when all they want is to see the end of the crown anyway.”

joohyun clasps her hands tightly in her lap. a shaky breath leaves her lips.

“i don’t know if i can accept that. they never would have done this to my brother.”

“your brother protected you—unwisely, it now seems—from all that parliament put him through.” the queen mother stands, walking toward joohyun. she reaches out her hand and joohyun takes it gently. “the monarchy is dying, darling. you can either raise it from the ashes, or bury it with your brother.”

“i understand.” joohyun says solemnly, squeezing her mother’s hand.

“now, are there any suitors you had in mind?”

“no,” joohyun softly lies. “did you, mother?”

. . .

the first mistake of the night is made by joohyun believing that a party can only be a party.

“…and this is, of course, my daughter joohyun.”

“sungryung, my silly friend, why are you introducing her?” the other woman laughs. joohyun can’t help but notice her eyes are large and kind. she gives her a bow, the warm smile still on her aging features. “it’s nice to see you again, joohyun, your majesty. i apologize for not making the funeral, i was out of the country with my youngest.”

“there’s no need to apologize, lady kim.” joohyun returns her smile. she watches in curiosity as a tall young man stands beside lady kim, handing her a drink.

“i should have brought more if i’d known you’d found friends, mother.” he nods in their direction with a soft chuckle. when he meets joohyun’s eyes he seems to get flustered before dropping his head into a bow. “your majesty.”

“this is my eldest son, seokjin.” lady kim smiles. “you’re only a few months apart so i hope you can treat each other as friends.”

the queen mother gives her a devious smile and joohyun begins to understand the party had been planned as an elaborate blind date.

“we’ve met a few times as children.” seokjin informs her.