Born As The Daughter of a Lowly Concubine - Chapter 47

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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I was born the daughter of a concubine of the lowest rank.
Episode 47
“I’ve heard of it before.”
Chae-tam-in was the term used in the Joseon era for intelligence agents who crossed the border to spy on enemy states. In other words, spies—covert operatives.
The targets were naturally the nations that shared a border with us—primarily the Jurchen, the Japanese, and others.
The Crown Prince’s brow furrowed at my unexpected answer.
“Where on earth are you hearing such things?”
“I don’t know.”
Where indeed—I’d seen it in a historical drama long ago.
It was one of those dramas where the protagonist started as a jailer at the Prison Bureau, became a Chae-tam-in spy, and eventually rose to become an advocate in the external bureau.
‘It was established in King Sejong’s time and flourished, but by King Seongjong’s era, when the Jurchen grew quiet, it was either disbanded or reduced in scale. Because of that, I’ve heard invasions by the Jurchen became frequent again afterward—so it seems they still exist here.’
In any case, King Seongjong was just like the source of all those wicked laws and abuses—despite every minister opposing him, all citing how difficult it was for widows to make a living, he stubbornly enacted the Widow Remarriage Prohibition Law and tormented countless women for centuries. Yet he refrained from just one thing.
‘I hope that in future lives on Joseon soil, reincarnated as a woman a hundred times over, experiencing life as a courtesan, a concubine, a widow—suffering every hardship under his own laws, threatened with death by in-laws clamoring for her to prove her chastity with a monument—that he might finally understand.’
The posthumous name Seongjong is bestowed upon a king who perfected legal codes and reformed institutions.
Naturally, this world had a king with that identical posthumous name—Seongjong, who completed the Gyeonggukeondae—but he was a different person, and thus no such wicked law existed here.
Women’s chastity remained a contentious matter, but remarriage was not forbidden.
For the record, that Seongjong also banned illegitimate sons from civil service exams—right after the Widow Remarriage Prohibition Law. What resentment could a man with so many concubines possibly harbor?
Oddly, men obsessed with women’s chastity always seemed to have plenty of concubines themselves.
Did his beloved turn into another man’s concubine after becoming a widow?
If he wanted to discriminate against children born of concubines, why not simply ban taking concubines altogether or impose penalties instead?
Anyway, that’s not what matters now.
“So that Gyeom-sa-bok—he retired from being a Chae-tam-in?”
“Yes, so I’ve heard. He suffered greatly, traveling back and forth across the border for years. There was even a time when everyone thought he’d perished, only for him to return alive.”
“Ah, so his uncommon movements stem from such a remarkable career.”
“Having endured hardship in those dangerous lands, it’s only natural he’d now wish to retire from active service. When he returned alive after all those years, I thought he’d retired then, but I heard he went back to the border. By now, he must surely desire a more stable life.”
“So that explains the Gyeom-sa-bok position. But isn’t Gyeom-sa-bok a temporary post? There must be better positions available… though perhaps there aren’t.”
In simple terms, a temporary post meant irregular employment.
Still, a Gyeom-sa-bok role came with a seven-year tenure, possibility of promotion to better positions, and potential advancement up to rank three if one performed well—so it could be considered quite a respectable post.
Of course, one had to pass annual examinations to maintain the position.
Surprisingly, many of those working in the palace held irregular positions. Some were even unpaid.
“Would they really scrimp on a Chae-tam-in who risked his life spying at the border? Since he wished to retire, they kept him on as a Gyeom-sa-bok for now as a compromise.”
“Why not simply let him retire?”
“Wouldn’t it be wasteful to lose such ability?”
In any case, those in power always seemed intent on working capable subordinates until their final record—their death—was inscribed; I’d heard that even when capable officials under King Sejong submitted resignations, they were rejected, and they had to work until death when their final evaluations were recorded.
‘It does seem necessary for the people’s welfare, though.’
It was rather like a black-market enterprise.
And the Crown Prince—one of the most exploited positions in such a black-market enterprise—sat with a gloomy expression, nibbling at the castella I’d made.
“Those involved in the rebellion have mostly been apprehended by now, and there will be no recurrence of that day. Rest assured. The mood of the people within the Capital City will settle in time.”
That statement meant the arrests were complete, not that the interrogations had concluded.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, at such a young age, you already seem to have developed age spots under your eyes.”
“There’s nothing to be done about it. I rise at dawn and barely fall asleep late at night.”
The position of Crown Prince was grueling.
“Now that I’ve become Crown Prince, I find myself amazed that my elder brother ever managed to find time to see both you and me.”
“…Your brother Seongwon wasn’t a perfectionist like you are, Your Highness.”
“In what way am I a perfectionist?”
“In temperament. And your brother Seongwon was born as the Crown Prince’s firstborn son, became the King’s firstborn son when Father ascended the throne, and was already Crown Prince by the time he took his first steps. The amount he learned from childhood is simply different—of course he’d be so.”
“That… is a fair point.”
He’s distracted. And who could blame him?
“Besides, you seem to be forgetting—your brother is only fourteen now, while in our memories, our eldest brother was twenty.”
“You’re right. The comparison isn’t apt. But I can’t help the thoughts that keep returning to him.”
“That’s understandable.”
The Crown Prince, who hadn’t stopped eating the castella, grew somber again as some thought crossed his mind.
“If my brother had lived… perhaps the rebellion would never have occurred.”
“Someone bent on it would have done it anyway.”
“Si-a.”
At my blunt reply, the Crown Prince laughed and called my name—just as Seongwon used to when we’d speak.
“Stop dwelling on useless thoughts and look after your health instead. If His Majesty’s only legitimate son becoming Crown Prince displeases someone so much, what difference would it make? Do they think murdering younger half-brothers is preferable? They’re mad—utterly mad.”
“…Your words are always clear and sound, I must say.”
As I comforted the dejected Crown Prince and recalled Seongwon, my thoughts drifted elsewhere.
‘I really do need to go find him once.’
Keep it a secret from everyone else.
***
Of course, all my attendants protested.
“No, no, my lady. What in the world are you trying to do at a time like this?”
“Look for my ring. I thought I’d at least check around Namdaemun.”
“But that…”
I wasn’t unaware that it was probably already too late, but I had to go at least once.
Ga-i and Song Bi grew uncomfortable at my words, desperately wanting to stop me somehow.
If there were many royals in the palace, it might go unnoticed, but a single princess absent from her residence during broad daylight could seem strange—though recently I scarcely left my quarters anyway.
Father, the Crown Prince, and the Queen Consort had each summoned me once to check on my condition, so they wouldn’t come looking for me for a while.
“Father and the Crown Prince are too busy to come looking for me.”
“The Queen Consort might come looking for you, my lady.”
“I saw her this morning, didn’t I? With the atmosphere in the palace like this, she won’t bother looking for me again.”
The Queen Consort rarely summoned me unless there was an official function or something she wanted to give me. We both seemed comfortable with this measured distance between us.
Otherwise she called for me only together with the Crown Prince.
But now that possibility didn’t exist.
At times like these, the Queen Consort would rather hold her breath and keep quiet.
Ever since her son became Crown Prince, she’d grown even more cautious than before.
‘I have no maternal relatives anyway.’
The royal relatives occasionally feigned friendliness toward me, but the king was hardly warm to them either.
‘When a rebellion happens, the closer relatives especially have to watch themselves.’
With everyone holding their breath now, they wouldn’t seek me out and stir up trouble.
“But my lady.”
“I lost the ring that Seongwon gave me.”
As I began to choke up, the resolute pupils of Ga-i and Song Bi wavered.
“…You’ll have to go and return quickly.”
“Yes.”
I could see Ga-i and Song Bi clenching their teeth, but I pretended not to notice.
Today’s escape—or rather, departure from the palace—followed a similar route to last time.
Unlike last time when I’d worked with the Crown Prince, this time I was moving in secret even from him, so we’d decided on fewer people.
Since I had discretion to permit my residence’s attendants to leave the palace, slipping out wasn’t difficult.
So long as I didn’t run into the wrong person.
But of course, unwanted things always happened just the same.
“My lady?”
There still weren’t many people outside the palace who could recognize me as the princess just by seeing my face.
So why did this have to happen.
‘I’ll pretend not to hear. They must have been mistaken.’
I hurried Song Bi along, pretending not to hear the voice I recognized, and we hastily left the palace gates.
But a former Chae-tam-in, now serving as Gyeom-sa-bok, naturally ran faster than us.
“Where are you going?”
“You startled me.”
The moment I’d thought we’d escaped the palace, the large man blocking my path had quite a presence.
“Can you just leave your post like this?”
“That’s not as pressing as…”
“Shh.”
When I gave him a look, Seong Gyeom-sa-bok was mindful of his surroundings and changed his form of address.
Ugh. My neck hurt from looking up at him from so close.
“Isn’t your young lady leaving the palace an even more pressing matter?”
“Ah, Seong Yoon the Gyeom-sa-bok… that’s right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Your face seems…quite different?”
The voice belonged to someone I knew, but the face was unfamiliar.
The Seong Yoon I knew was a bearded man, but this one looked to be in his early thirties.
Though in this era, thirties still counted as middle-aged.
As Song Bi held me and stepped back cautiously, the man presumed to be Seong Gyeom-sa-bok flustered and touched near his chin.
“Ah, I trimmed my beard, so it might look different to you.”
This couldn’t be! He looked about ten years younger!!
‘Beards are so deceptive.’
With the beard shaved, the older man had transformed into a handsome man with a few scars on his face—there was an imposing quality to him because of the scars, but his features weren’t unpleasant, so he didn’t look particularly threatening.
Then again, Gyeom-sa-bok were judged on their appearance too.
If you think the obsession with appearances is only a modern phenomenon, you’re deeply mistaken.
“Are you unharmed, young lady?”
“I’m fine. Song Bi, this is the Gyeom-sa-bok who rescued me from the Safok-si last time.”
“Ah, the person who saved the princess that day, I’ve heard of you.”
Song Bi hadn’t been with me then, but she’d heard the story and her face brightened accordingly.
Since he wasn’t wearing Gyeom-sa-bok garb today, she must have taken him for someone dangerous.
Without his uniform, he looked like he was off duty—though why he was here, I couldn’t say. But I had things I wanted to discuss with him myself, so our meeting wasn’t unwelcome. Just unfortunate in its timing and location.
I tugged at Seong Yoon’s sleeve and apologized for what happened then.
“Your whiskers—I’m sorry. You must have been in such pain.”
“If this humble servant’s whiskers could be exchanged for the young lady’s wellbeing, there could be no greater honor.”
Seong Yoon knelt on one knee before me, and his face became all the clearer to see.
I hadn’t noticed it before, but up close, apart from questions of beauty or plainness, his was a face worn with exhaustion.
“We didn’t have to trade off the whiskers…”
“The young lady was in no state to notice then. Thanks to it, I’ve even heard people say I look younger.”
“Well, then. I suppose that’s fortunate.”
Whether this qualified as fortunate was debatable, but since he seemed content with it, I decided to let the matter rest.
I glanced toward Song Bi, then leaned close to Seong Yoon and spoke in a hushed voice.
“You were a Chae-tam-in, then?”
“Yes… that is correct, princess.”
“So you were overseas? Or… shouldn’t I be asking?”
“Yes, princess.”
His expression clearly showed someone’s guilt for having told such things to a child.
‘If I say the Crown Prince told me, won’t it lower his reputation?’
The Crown Prince is blameless.
He doesn’t seem to realize it himself, but ever since ‘that day,’ the Crown Prince has found it difficult to refuse my requests.
Poor thing.
“Does the young lady not find this humble servant frightening?”
“Why would I fear someone who saved me?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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