Pursuant to the King’s and the Crown Princess’ deaths, the nation was plunged into a state of mourning and gloom. The new Queen Joohyun spent the first fortnight in utter agony. She then spent the second fortnight in a daze. Most of the time she was not sure what she was doing. Even when she was doing very simple things like eating and bathing, it still felt as if her soul was not present in her body.

The handmaidens and other servants around Joohyun continued to come and go. Compared to all these foreign faces that Joohyun would not look twice at, her personal guard Seulgi seemed to be the one and only constant in her life.

Joohyun was aware of the fact that she was now the most powerful person in the realm. But she was not yet fully conscious of just how extensive her influence and authority could be. She herself was surprised that she had hardly issued any edicts so far — except on one matter that she refused to let go of: her sister’s murder.

Joohyun had not spoken to her mother ever since Jooyeon’s death. Not even a single word. Not even the slightest acknowledgement of her presence whenever they were in the same room. Although most of the time Joohyun was numb and her mind was blank, one of the strongest feelings that she could identify and label was a need for revenge. If she could not inflict pain upon her sister’s murderers in equal measure, how could justice possibly be served?

Yet her killer was not just anyone. It was her own mother, the Queen Mother that everyone in this nation still bowed to and looked up to. Joohyun knew that if she were to openly display any act of cruelty toward her own mother, it would damage her reputation. As a sovereign who had newly ascended to the throne, especially since she was among the late King’s youngest children and therefore someone that people did not expect to see on the throne, she sure did not need anything that could possibly tarnish her image in the people’s eyes. Everybody had their eyes on her, the whole country counting on her to be the leader they needed. This was her chance to either earn the people’s support or incur their disaffection. There was simply no room for missteps.

The Queen Mother’s senior attendant, however, was not a figure that the public would pay attention to. In their eyes she was just another servant whose name they had never heard of, whose life they would not care about. Taking advantage of this, she had very soon become Joohyun’s punching bag. She was incarcerated in a cell and received a penalty that Joohyun thought was very befitting for her crime: every day, servants would force-feed a bowl of papaya soup to her.

Perhaps the only thing that prevented Joohyun from falling into a spiral of hatred and vengeance was state affairs that demanded her attention. Originally, while her sister was still alive, a betrothal was set up between Jooyeon and the Crown Prince of China. Jooyeon’s scandal would surely have offended the Chinese, but luckily a few years ago Korea sent military supplies to China when there was a civil war, so the alliance between the two countries was not entirely broken. However, this pointed to an even stronger need to solidify the alliance — and now Joohyun was the one who was expected to marry the Crown Prince of China as soon as possible.

“He’s here, Your Majesty,” one of Joohyun’s handmaidens announced. Joohyun had long stopped trying to remember the names of her handmaidens — what would be the point when they were probably going to be dismissed the next day, or at most by the end of the week? But this handmaiden in particular seemed to be rather energetic and happy-go-lucky, as she quickly added in a whisper, “and he’s quite handsome too.”

The Queen raised her eyebrows. Not once had she ever felt the need to care about the Crown Prince’s appearance. Because she was determined to not get married anyway.

Joohyun made her way to the parlor where her betrothed was waiting. Indeed there he was, dressed very formally as was expected of the occasion. As they exchanged greetings, Joohyun understood why her handmaiden would think highly of the Crown Prince’s looks. His soft features were pleasant to look at, but it was not as if he looked lovely enough for Joohyun to want to gaze at him for an additional moment. The last time — possibly the only time — anyone was able to have that effect on her was when she met Seulgi for the very first time.

“You must be Prince Lu Han,” said Joohyun coolly. “Welcome. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m very honored to finally be able to visit Korea,” Lu Han replied. He was fluent in Korean, which was not that surprising. As the heir to an empire, he was no doubt given a very extensive education on foreign languages. Joohyun, on the other hand, received a different kind of education as she was never expected to be the heiress to her father’s throne.

“I hope Your Highness has had sufficient rest after such a long journey. How do you like your quarters?” She asked.

“It’s very comfortable here. I’m very pleased,” he said. “I haven’t been here for long but I’ve already made a lot of interesting discoveries.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Indeed. For instance, Your Majesty is even more beautiful than your late sister, from the portraits I’ve seen,” he commented with a smile.

Joohyun smiled too, but thinly, not so much out of genuine appreciation but more out of obligation since a compliment was offered to her. “Thank you. Although if I could swap my beauty for my sister and have her back alive and well, I would definitely do it.”

Lu Han stiffened, not at all expecting this standoffish, sardonic speech from a royal. He wondered if he ought to offer his condolences, but it seemed Joohyun had arrived at that thought before he did.

“You don’t have to say it,” she said, her tone gentler this time. She might not be much interested in him as a prospective spouse, but she was mindful that he was not just any guest at her court; he was the future Emperor of China after all. “I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

He smiled in an effort to diffuse the awkwardness. “Pardon me. Perhaps we ought to talk about something more delightful.”

“Such as?”

“Such as our betrothal?”

“Ah, yes. That,” she replied curtly. There was no emotion on her face, which made him unsure if she was uninterested, or displeased, or bored, or whatever. Either way, it was evident that she was not as fond of the idea of their marital union as he was.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me Your Majesty is not too pleased about our betrothal,” he said.

“Because I’m not,” she stated nonchalantly. “Please don’t take it personally, Your Highness. I simply don’t know you well enough to decide how much I like or dislike you.”

Lu Han chuckled. He understood that while her words seemed to convey something along the lines of ‘no offense’, he had a hunch she was quite sure he was not the kind of person to be easily offended — if he were, he would not have been able to survive at the Chinese court.

“I suppose we’ll get to know each other better as we spend more time together. Maybe then we can grow to like each other,” he suggested.

“Maybe.” Joohyun shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

“I personally prefer to be more optimistic,” he replied. “Especially when it comes to this matter — marriage is a lifelong commitment after all. While political stability and diplomatic bonds are no doubt important, I think I would be very obliged if we could at least get along with each other.”

“Yes, we can most certainly try to get along with each other,” she said. “As friends, at best.”

“Friends?”

She nodded. “You heard me correctly, Your Highness.”

“While I do think of myself as an optimist, I am not inclined to believe that friendships can thrive and last in a place as dangerous as a palace.”

“But marital alliances are expected to thrive and last?” She arched an eyebrow at him, eager to see just how much of an intellectual he was.

“It’s like I said, Your Majesty. Marriages are lifelong commitments. They are meant to be taken seriously,” he insisted. “And as for alliances, I do my best to make them last.”

“I don’t disagree with you, Your Highness,” she replied calmly. “You see, it’s precisely because I treat marriage as a serious matter — that’s why I simply cannot agree to marry you. I’m afraid I feel no desire to be committed to a lifelong union with you.”

Lu Han paused, but did not falter. “Is it perhaps because ther