Chapter 12

​The annex where Seong Yoo-ha resided had been built for summer use, and as such, it was tucked away in a deep, shaded hollow. Unlike the main house, where a variety of seasonal flowers ensured a constant display of blooms, the few plants surrounding the annex blossomed briefly in the heat of summer before withering away.

​In truth, the lack of flowers was not the problem. Because the annex was so poorly maintained, thick weeds had begun to choke out even the highly surviving flora. Yong-rae and the nanny did their best to manage the grounds, but as they were responsible for every facet of life in the annex, they were perpetually short-handed. Survival—managing food and clothing—took precedence, leaving the garden to be reclaimed by the wild.

​Ye-hwi pushed open the large window and gazed out at the desolate yard. He saw gray grass that had grown long only to die in the cold, shapeless trees extending their unpruned branches like skeletal limbs, and withered petals blocked from the sun by aggressive weeds.

​It was unsightly.

​Indeed, there was no other word to describe the annex garden.

​It was a late autumn night, and a winter chill was quietly creeping into the world. It was the season when the wind began to raise goosebumps on the skin at the slightest blow. In a proper residence, windows covered in thick, high-quality paper would have easily repelled the draft, but the windows of this summer annex were helpless against the cold.

​“I searched for something with as little scent as possible, so it may be somewhat lacking,” a voice whispered.

​The warrior, Geon-seo, appeared silently from the darkness. He carefully placed a cloth bundle on the rickety table next to Ye-hwi and unwrapped it to reveal the food within.

​As Hwi nonchalantly took one of the meat skewers—a pile clearly meant for two people—and began to eat, Geon-seo spoke with cautious hesitation.

​“This place does not even provide enough food to fill a man’s stomach. Why don’t you leave this instant, Your Highness?”

​“Indeed,” Hwi replied. “Forget two meals a day; they don’t even provide one proper sitting.”

​“If you desire that man named Seong Yoo-ha, you could simply take him with you. Why must you, a Prince, suffer through such indignity…?”

​“What of the investigation?” Hwi interrupted.

​Ye-hwi had never known hunger in his life. On the contrary, he was the sort of man who preferred to eat sparsely, finding a full stomach lethargic and the palace’s elaborate dishes tedious. Yet here he was, ordering Geon-seo to fetch him food because he was genuinely hungry—food he could only consume in the dead of night while the rest of the world slept.

​Hwi looked at the meat skewer in his hand and let out a scoff of disbelief. To think that he, a Prince of the mighty Mir Kingdom, was hiding away like a thief just to eat. As Geon-seo had pointed out, there was no need for this. If he wanted Seong Yoo-ha, he could simply claim him. So why was he enduring such wretched discomfort?

​To his annoyance, no answer came to mind.

Out of words by the absurdity of his own situation, Ye-hwi let out a hollow laugh. He popped another skewer into his mouth and cut Geon-seo off before the warrior could protest further.

​“The diplomatic mission’s itinerary consists almost entirely of negotiations with Ansi Kingdom officials. It has been confirmed that the King of Ansi will only make an appearance during the final banquet.”

​“Officials are handling the negotiations with the Mir Kingdom?”

​“Yes, so I am told. However, it is said that the King and the Crown Prince will personally affix their seals when formally ratifying the agreement.”

​Officials negotiating a national treaty that is only renewed every ten years? The Ansi lot must be just as rotten as the ones back in Mir.

​“How long is their official stay?”

​“A minimum of one month, stretching to a maximum of three.”

​“Report back to me once the date for the banquet is finalized.”

​“As you command. Additionally, I have the report on Oh-mun, the man you asked me to investigate. He operates the third-largest smithy in the Ansi Kingdom, and his reputation is… less than favorable.”

​“In what way?”

​“They say he beats people to death.”

​“He is neither a high-ranking official nor a member of a renowned clan, yet he goes unpunished for murder?”

​“Most of his victims are merely servants, slaves, or beggars.”

​“Ah, a cunning coward then. What else?”

​“Nothing else particularly noteworthy, though recently, several long-standing clients returned their goods all at once. It sparked a significant confrontation.”

​“The reason for the returns?”

​“There were reportedly defects in the delivered goods. Shall I look into the matter further?”

​Long-time customers returning goods? That means the previous shipments were either flawless, or the clients were simply unaware of the flaws. Whatever the case, how did people who knew nothing of metallurgy suddenly discover these defects?

​Don’t tell me… Seong Yoo-ha?

​Finding the answer instantly, the corners of Hwi’s mouth curled into a slight, dark smirk. He had assumed Yoo-ha lived solely for the self-satisfaction of performing good deeds, but it appeared the man was capable of a more sophisticated move as well.

​“No, leave it be. Also, keep an eye on a certain servant in the main house. I do not know his name, but he has a bushy, unsightly beard and a prominent wart on his forehead. If he leaves the estate, snatch him and…”

​Hwi paused. Why was he even bothering with this? The foul water hadn’t been thrown at him. Even the victim of the bullying had insisted it was fine.

​And yet, it gnaws at me.

​“Snatch him and break both his arms.”

​“Yes, Your Highness. Understood. But… if I may, Master. I have observed this place for several days now, and it lacks even the most basic necessities. Shall I secure supplies from the outside?”

​Geon-seo looked around the room, speaking with extreme caution. Ever since his master had declared himself a servant of the Seong family, the warrior had struggled to wrap his mind around the situation. The Fourth Prince of the Mir Kingdom acting as a lackey to a descendant of the Maru clan? And not even a favored son, but a man born as good as a commoner within the clan and subsequently abandoned?

​He could accept the mystery of it; how could a man of his narrow vision hope to grasp the Prince’s grand designs? But there were limits. The conditions his master was enduring were worse than the life of a common servant—it was an environment barely distinguishable from the slave camps on the border.