With her uniquely capricious and sensitive temperament, Dankyeong was considered a remarkable monarch merely for having suppressed the meritorious officials and local powers that inevitably grew during King Dansa’s conquest wars—thereby strengthening royal authority.
However, the fact that Yukang was silently consolidating power in the north while she did nothing surely made Dankyeong feel a crushing inferiority to her predecessor.
This was precisely why Dankyeong eventually brought Sahyeon into power.
As long as Yukang—who hid no ambition—and Hahyeon—currently keeping low due to the nation’s weakened state, but capable of unleashing his claws once power was restored—continued circling like wolves and coyotes, a war for continental supremacy would inevitably erupt.
Yet during Dankyeong’s long reign, those hardened by past wars had faded into history, leaving only those who had built vested interests in peace.
So far, that had been fine. Dankyeong, too, had become intoxicated by her power.
But now, her health was no longer what it once was—and finally she began to worry about the future.
Could these people be ready for the inevitably approaching war?
Would a successor emerge to fulfill the dream of continental unification that her predecessor had envisioned?
Someone had to inherit that vision.
If none of the heirs showed ambition, Dankyeong would have to cultivate a young blood who shared her thoughts.
In that light, Sahyeon had exactly the qualities that would appeal to her.
With no established power base in Pasa, and as a survivor of the Battle of Maecheon, he had a natural resentment toward Yukang.
Moreover, his scholarly aura as a disciple of Master Chaegong—a respected female scholar—added prestige.
If he could become close to the heirs in Unkyeong Palace, he might very well realize Dankyeong’s aspirations.
That was the plan.
Thus, though the old queen’s motivations and Sahyeon’s differed, their destination was the same—and that was a relief to Sahyeon.
He gently rolled up the bamboo scroll he was reading and tucked it atop the highest shelf.
The most recent palace report included accusations against the Ma family—Dankyeong’s in-laws—for abusing power.
Dankyeong had dismissed them as slander.
Perhaps others only clicked their tongues, thinking, “Who doesn’t exploit at least this much?”
He sighed.
He needed to return home tonight.
Staying overnight in the palace risked Ogwang trailing him all the way to Unkyeong Palace.
As for Dan I-jae—who’d left late in the afternoon—was likely indulging in drink late into the night.
It was well past midnight, and the palace lay silent.
Sahyeon quickened his pace toward the main gate to escape the cold breeze.
— “Keee-rr!”
He froze at the cry of a white hawk echoing from somewhere.
He looked up at the pitch-black sky—no bird was visible.
Had he misheard?
He cocked his head and stepped forward again.
— “Keee-rr!”
The sharp, desperate cry sounded again, and Sahyeon halted in his tracks.
He listened closely.
From the direction of the cry, he heard low voices.
Was someone tormenting the royal hawk?
Wearing the 8th Prince’s seal—it couldn’t be.
Yet Sahyeon couldn’t avert his eyes—it wasn’t the first time the hawk had helped him.
Perhaps Dan I-jae had returned early and was playing with it.
Or maybe a palace official was teasing it with food.
Trying to think positively, Sahyeon cautiously approached.
— “Keee-rr!”
“Agh!”
“You fool. Can’t even tie down a bird’s beak without being bitten? Fetch me an axe—I’ll smash that devil’s beak.”
“Please don’t kill it!”
Three men were clustered together, and between them the hawk struggled in a snare. Sahyeon was about to rush in—but one man’s words froze him.
“These birds are hard to tame. Lord Yubaekhu, why not simply stew the wretched thing and send it to Gamcheondang for nourishment?”
The Third Prince—Yubaekhu.
If Sahyeon intervened, he’d be directly challenging Yubaekhu.
All for just a bird—was it worth the risk?
“A bird dares choose its own master? This worthless creature isn’t worth taming. Pluck it alive and boil it. That’ll teach it to choose wrongly.”
Horrifying as it was, people boiled chickens, ducks, and pheasants.
Move on—too much lay ahead.
He couldn’t be held back by one hawk.
Sahyeon was turning to leave—when—thud—something struck behind him.
Had they hit the bird?
Heart pounding, he spun around.
— “Keee-rr!”
“You little—!”
The hawk, narrowly escaped, let out a shrill cry.
Yubaekhu clicked his tongue and brandished a small hatchet.
Sahyeon’s heart raced. He felt lightheaded, breathless.
Could he allow this hawk—who’d helped him so many times—to die?
Could he hide like a terrified rat while someone suffered?
He’d fought so hard to avoid living that way—and yet here he was again.
His mind went blank; ears rang.
Clutching his chest, gasping, he shouted, “Stop it!”
He forced open his eyes. Yubaekhu glared, frowning as he recognized the voice—then scowled deeper seeing Sahyeon.
“Even for Lord Yubaekhu, isn’t it against etiquette to abuse the 8th Prince’s bird? If you want it, you should ask the prince—”
“Who’s speaking?” came the retort—followed by a heavy slam on Sahyeon’s head.
The prince grasped his tied-up hair and yanked him violently.
The blow was so sudden he couldn’t scream.
He never expected even Yubaekhu would physically assault a 5th-rank court official.
“What… what is this?” he managed.
“Perfect timing. I’ve been wanting to deal with you too. Heard you’ve been cozying up to Dan I-jae thanks to your sister’s recommendation?”
Was the palace obsessed with romance now?
These absurd rumors were spreading like fire.
Sahyeon grit his teeth and protested.
“I don’t know who started that, but I have no such relationship with the Eighth Prince—”
Yubaekhu dragged him by the hair and threw him down beside the hawk.
The hawk squawked and flung itself toward Sahyeon.
“We had a quarrel this morning. Someone else misunderstood,” Sahyeon explained, trying to calm the hawk.
But Yubaekhu scoffed, grabbed the bird, and violently kicked it—with no cry—into a corner.
As Sahyeon tried to protest, Yubaekhu’s brutal hand clamped onto his jaw.
“All with white hair must harbor dirty secrets,” Yubaekhu sneered.
“I told you, it’s false.”
“Ha! That bird ate ravenously when my sister fed it. Then that Dirtiest Prince shows up and it clings to him. You think that’s a misunderstanding? I hear even the smell makes it sick—but here you are, rolling around with him?”
“Rolling around” — what foul rumor had been twisted so perverse?
“Don’t speak such filthy lies. And if we’re being precise—what you’re doing right now is exactly that: using violence to crush someone.”
“What? Violence to crush?” Yubaekhu mocked.
That bastard wasn’t even thinking about what he did—he was just hung up on the word “nonsense.”
Given Sahyeon’s current state of mind, he wanted to say something even more vicious.
Smack!
With a sharp cracking sound, his head jerked to the side, powerless.
One of his ears went numb.
As the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, Sahyeon bit down hard on his lower lip.
So this is what it means to be a prince cast out of the king’s favor?
No matter what he does, the worst that could happen is being exiled back to Bongjak Territory—so now he acts like nothing matters?
“Fine, let’s see if what you said is true.”
His sash came undone. Sahyeon scrambled to hold his waistband.
“What are you—?”
“Didn’t you say that bastard shoved his cock up your ass or not? Let’s check for ourselves!”
Correction: this palace wasn’t just obsessed with love.
Clearly, every person in this place was deranged when it came to anything below the waist.
He should have realized it sooner—back when the cockfighting thugs chased him around, trying to sell him off the moment he arrived in Pasa.
“Why should I need Lord Yubaek to confirm that? If you’re so determined, why not summon Master Chaegong or Lady Dankyeong and have them check instead?”
“You too? Are you looking down on your elder sister now?”
“And who are you to say that to me—when you’re the one dragging Master Chaegong’s name through the mud with this disgraceful behavior?”
“You filthy bastard!”
“Damn—how’d you even know I’m a bastard?”
Fuming with rage, Yubaekhu shot up and kicked Sahyeon hard in the ribs.
Being a warrior through and through, just that one kick made Sahyeon feel like his insides were being twisted.
He couldn’t breathe. Curling up, he clutched his stomach.
Another kick landed in the small of his back.
“Kuh-heuk!”
At this rate, I’m going to die.
Though, really, it’s a life that should have ended long ago.
If he made it to the afterlife and told those who went before him that he reached the royal palace of Pasa and died trying to save one bird—
Would they laugh?
Or maybe…
Maybe they’d forgive him, just a little?
“Lord Yubaek! Please, stop! You’re a fifth-rank official!”
“Sir, seriously—this is going to get you into real trouble!”
Only after Sahyeon stopped moving from the repeated kicks did the men who’d been standing by finally run forward to restrain Yubaekhu.