I Became My Ex-Boyfriend’s Concubine - Chapter 97

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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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Chapter 97

Sunlight streamed brilliantly across the gardens of Jung-gung-jeon.
Among the profusion of spring blossoms, concubines bedecked in finery sat facing one another in neat rows.
Soft laughter drifted along the gentle stream that ran through the courtyard.
Over the small embroidery frames set before each woman, needles threaded with five-colored thread moved busily across silk cloth.
“At any rate, it seems His Majesty’s birthday celebration will be far grander than in years past. They say the Sang-ui-won is so pressed preparing garments they can scarcely catch their breath.”
Yoon, a concubine of lower rank, paused her needle mid-butterfly stitch and lifted her tea cup.
As she broached the subject, Kim, a noblewoman seated opposite her who had been embroidering a crimson peony, smiled as if she had been waiting for this very opening.
“Surely that stands to reason. Last year His Majesty’s heart was heavy with drought, but this year both fortune and the realm’s prosperity have been restored, so naturally there is festive spirit throughout the palace and beyond. I myself have been embroidering scent pouches for the books I am copying as gifts while burning the midnight oil these past few nights.”
“Your devotion is truly admirable, Kim. I’m certain His Majesty will be most pleased.”
Eom, another concubine, chimed in agreement while deftly knotting her thread.
Then she covertly turned her gaze toward the Queen seated in the place of honor, gauging her expression. The Queen merely gazed at her embroidery frame and sipped her tea in silence.
It was then that another noblewoman snapped her thread with scissors and narrowed her brows playfully.
“Though it seems that seat will remain empty today as well.”
Every concubine’s eyes fixed on a single spot.
Not far from the seat of honor lay an empty cushion and an untouched embroidery frame, abandoned by their absent owner.
Dan-bi’s place.
“Indeed, she ascended to the rank of noblewoman in a single stride, monopolizing His Majesty’s favor the moment she entered the palace. One can hardly blame her for disdaining such humble gatherings as this tea assembly.”
Kim’s smile twisted as she jabbed her needle in roughly.
“It is pleasant enough to receive favor, yet the Inner Palace has its disciplines. With the Queen being so gracious as to overlook these absences each time, one wonders if she has not grown arrogant.”
The words were calculated—subtle mockery of Dan-bi wrapped in gentle concern, and beneath it all, a veiled challenge to the Queen’s authority.
Yet the Queen merely kept her lips sealed and drew the needle softly through the silk cloth.
The concubines were exchanging glances, taking turns casting aspersions on the absent one, when—
“Nothing quite beats gossip, does it?”
An unfamiliar voice cut through the garden, and the brittle laughter died at once.
Every head turned toward the source of the sound.
There came Dan-bi, resplendent in a soft rose-pink robe, walking gracefully toward them.
The Queen’s brow creased. This attendance seat—which she had never condescended to fill before—was one Dan-bi had always spurned, no matter the summons.
So the Queen had naturally expected her absence again. This sudden appearance was far from welcome.
“Dan-bi…!”
Kim’s eyes darted between Dan-bi and the Queen in visible alarm.
Dan-bi, undisturbed, walked to the empty cushion meant for her and settled down with feathered lightness.
Then she fixed her gaze on the white embroidery frame before her and picked up her needle first.
“My ears were burning so badly, I simply had to see what all this talk was about. I had to come and satisfy my curiosity.”
“How extraordinary that your feet should grace us with your presence in this place at last. Has His Majesty’s approaching birthday kindled in you, at last, a sense of duty to the Inner Palace?”
The Queen’s barbed question made Dan-bi’s hands pause for a moment. Then she turned, offered a light smile, and nodded easily.
“Well, everyone seemed so busy preparing gifts I couldn’t simply sit idle. I thought I’d loosen my hands a little.”
Dan-bi shrugged and drew the needle across the silk once more. The five-colored thread flew in swift succession, and the design began to take form with remarkable speed.
The noblewoman seated beside her gasped.
“This is…”
She swallowed hard, unable to finish.
Not only had she dared to embroider the dragon—that sacred symbol of the King—but her skill was so extraordinary it left one breathless.
Every concubine’s gaze snapped to Dan-bi’s embroidery frame. The faces of those who had been mocking her moments before hardened visibly.
The Queen, watching silently from her seat, felt her eyes narrow. As she set down her cup, her hand trembled with barely contained tension.
“Your skill is indeed remarkable, Dan-bi. Yet embroidery, as you know, requires a sturdy foundation to endure. However resplendent the five-colored thread, if the base cloth is of poor quality, it will soon tear and become worthless, will it not?”
All were puzzled by her words, but Dan-bi understood at once.
No matter how illustrious her father Woo-sang’s position, she was ultimately but a puppet dancing on his authority—and the King’s favor, like that cloth, would fade and scatter.
Dan-bi merely scoffed and did not pause her needle.
She met those calculating eyes—eyes that had always scraped her raw with their scrutiny—directly, and pushed the needle through with deliberate force.
“Perhaps. But however precious and lustrous the base cloth, if the embroidery upon it is dull, that book will spend its lifetime gathering dust on a forgotten shelf. Surely His Majesty does not spend his affection on the same tedious image day after day—he prizes what catches the eye with freshness and vitality, does he not?”
The barb struck true: no matter how noble the Queen’s station as the exalted base, if she could not capture the King’s heart and sat idle, she would be no different from a dust-covered book.
The Queen’s lip trembled.
The air in the garden turned ice-cold, as though thin glass might crack at any moment.
The concubines huddled nearby scarcely breathed, their eyes darting between the two women.
“You have only your mouth, and it wags freely.”
The Queen’s voice dropped to a dangerous register.
Her insides churned. This eyesore of a face had always infuriated her.
A few days prior, at the Rain Prayer Ceremony, an image surfaced in her mind—the King and Dan-bi standing together in the center of Sajik-dan, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Ever since that day, the moment she tried to sleep, that lingering phantom rose before her eyes, and she could not bring herself to close them. Her chest felt as though it were rotting black from within.
Suddenly the blazing vista of Pae-jeon-gak overlapped with the memory.
She should have locked that door far more securely then—she should have, without fail.
The Queen clenched her teeth and squeezed her fists beneath the folds of her skirt.
‘Everything shows on her face, as always.’
Meanwhile, Dan-bi watched the Queen for a moment, then quietly turned her head away.
She had avoided coming to these Tea Gatherings for precisely this reason, despite the repeated invitations over recent days.
She had been frantically busy with Sang-ui-won duties, true enough, but it was obvious as daylight that if they crossed paths, they would only snarl at each other and create a scene.
Yet with Ha-rin’s birthday approaching soon, and knowing nothing whatsoever of her state, Dan-bi had come hoping to gather intelligence about the palace’s movements and circumstances—only to find herself in this predicament once again.
She tried to calm her mind, but could not master herself. Whenever she faced that face identical to Ha-rin’s, fury surged up from the pit of her stomach in an instant.
Dan-bi swallowed a sigh and thrust the needle relentlessly through the silk cloth—she had been in the very moment of completing the eyes of the five-colored dragon with the finishing stroke.
Sharp—
“Ah!”
Something sharp caught from the narrow gap at the round edge of the embroidery frame behind the silk, scraping mercilessly across the tip of Dan-bi’s finger.
It was far more than the simple prick of a needle.
A bead of crimson blood fell upon the white silk, spreading in red across the dragon’s head.
Dan-bi furrowed her brow and clutched her throbbing finger.
Surely not.
A chill of instinctive premonition flashed through her. It was the moment Dan-bi opened her mouth to face the Queen with a sharp stare.
“How dare you raise your eyes in such irreverence!”
The Queen rose from her seat like lightning and strode forward until she stood directly before Dan-bi. Her palm swept through the air with a sharp, cutting sound.
Slap—
At the same instant, Dan-bi’s head turned helplessly to the side.
Her pale cheek flushed crimson in a heartbeat, blazing hot. Searing pain shot through her cheek and spread across her entire body.
“Your Majesty!”
The air of Hu-won shattered. The consorts gasped and rose in unison from their seats.
The Queen, breathing heavily, looked coldly down at Dan-bi, who cradled her own cheek.
“So your rank rises a little and suddenly you see no distinction between high and low. Did you truly believe you could show contempt for me, the head of the Inner Palace, and escape unscathed? That rude and arrogant habit of yours—today I shall correct it once and for all—”
“What is this commotion?”
The Queen’s mouth snapped shut at the sharp voice that cut through the air.
Her complexion turned pale in an instant. The terrified consorts scrambled desperately to prostrate themselves on the ground.
“Your… Your Highness…!”
“Your Highness!”
Dan-bi, her wounded finger still clutched in her fist, slowly turned her head.
Standing at the entrance to Hu-won, regarding her with eyes as keen as a drawn blade, was Woo-sang.

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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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