Royal Coup d'État - Chapter 18

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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 18
The Limousine passed through Danbong Gate without a single moment’s hesitation. The reporters waiting outside the gate thrust their cameras forward, but it was only a flicker. The instant the Limousine entered the gate, Danbong Gate slammed shut with a heavy, grinding sound.
Tae-o had passed near Changdeok Palace several times a day. Each time he saw the vast imperial palace occupying the heart of Seoul, various thoughts would stir in him. But he had never once imagined himself entering behind those tall walls.
To think he could so easily pass through Danbong Gate—the only entrance the royal family used where security checks weren’t strictly enforced. It was something beyond even dreaming.
‘Hah.’
A tangle of complicated feelings welled up inside him.
He had thought of her as merely sixth in the line of succession—a member of the royal family with no real power or authority to speak of. Yet in the end, the world she inhabited was fundamentally different from the one outside those walls. Tae-o found himself quietly revising his own judgment of the royal family.
“Your Highness, you have arrived.”
The moment the car came to a stop, Je-jo Sanggung—the most senior of the palace ladies—came out to greet her personally. She descended from the door that Seok-chul held open, receiving Je-jo Sanggung’s bow with a light nod of her head, as if it were something she did every day. The bow itself carried meaning—it marked her station.
A woman barely twenty-seven, still in her twenties, stood before an elderly woman well past sixty like a proud crane.
Tae-o felt a wall rise between himself and her. Je-jo Sanggung belonged to the Royal Household Administration; Tae-o belonged to the National Police Agency. Both of them were equally subordinate standing before her.
Something twisted inside him. Whether it was desire or anger, he could not say.
“His Majesty is waiting for you.”
Je-jo Sanggung spoke to her with formal respect. She didn’t bother to answer and simply moved to follow Je-jo Sanggung. The stark hierarchy—so far removed from any exchange of actual words—pressed upon him once again.
“But the person behind you—”
Je-jo Sanggung’s sharp eyes rolled toward Tae-o with obvious suspicion. Having lived a rigid life devoted to the palace, she eyed this man who seemed out of place among palace servants with wariness.
“I mentioned it to the Crown Prince. He’s my guest.”
At her reply, Je-jo Sanggung closed her mouth with a quiet “Yes.” Since the young woman had brought him as her personal guest, she said nothing more, but showed obvious discomfort as she guided them both to the Emperor, glancing back repeatedly. Whenever Tae-o looked around even slightly, she would inhale sharply, and by the end she was even glancing at her charge and chattering away in barely suppressed disapproval.
“Within the palace, one must see nothing and hear nothing.”
Tae-o reluctantly lowered his gaze to the floor. It oddly reminded him of scolding he’d received from his parents as a child.
Did a palace attendant who’d spent decades here really outrank a detective? The stubborn old woman was so abrasive that he found no will to argue.
The young woman moved forward with elegant steps, seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil. Somehow, that felt unfair to him.
After passing through only a few halls, the party’s pace slowed. Tae-o intuited that the Emperor was near.
Je-jo Sanggung hurried ahead to announce them, and the woman waiting behind watched her go. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft that had he not been listening intently, he might have thought she was speaking to herself.
“The moment you step into Heejung Hall, Inspector Gwon, you may find yourself walking a completely different path than the one you walked yesterday.”
A sparrow perched on the eaves took flight, chirping sharply. Leaves trembled and fell from the branch where it had been sitting. But even amid the bustle of nature, her voice rang with striking clarity.
“Still, I can only hope that you will make your choice in favor of the truth.”
Tae-o shifted his gaze as Je-jo Sanggung came rushing back toward them. The back of her head—held stiffly forward without a single glance in his direction—kept unsettling his resolve.
* * *
The Emperor was a member of the royal family who slept less than anyone. He rose at five in the morning and began receiving his first audiences at half past five.
Of course, among the lazy modern royal family, few thought to seek the Emperor at such an early hour. Had it not been for her, the Emperor’s idle hours would have grown only longer.
With the announcement of her arrival came the Emperor’s permission to enter. She glanced briefly at Tae-o, who stood behind her, then walked lightly forward into the Emperor’s presence.
“Your Majesty, I humbly pay my respects.”
Heejung Hall. The Emperor’s audience chamber was furnished simply. In recent years, the Crown Prince had taken over all administrative duties, and so few visitors came to call. Though it had been arranged somewhat like a study to suit his love of books, it was hardly different in appearance from an ordinary person’s home beyond the palace walls.
“How are you, my dear?”
“Well. I hear you simply left yesterday without seeing me. I called you here for nothing. This old fool must be losing his wits.”
“Thanks to that, I’m able to pay my morning respects after such a long time.”
She greeted the Emperor with genuine warmth—a desperate effort to lift even a trace of the sadness that had visibly marked him in recent days.
“I am glad that thanks to you, I need not spend my morning in loneliness.”
The Emperor replied in a gentle voice, but his eyes were fixed on Tae-o.
She had informed him beforehand that she would enter the palace with Tae-o and had received permission, but how long the Emperor would see them was entirely his decision. She swallowed her tension and set a light smile on her lips.
“You’ve been sleeping well, haven’t you? Your eyes look dark.”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t slept well in days. There’s no good news to speak of. Still, thanks to the evening tea yesterday, the fatigue is a bit lighter.”
Though wariness flickered across his features, the Emperor treated his granddaughter warmly. Even to Tae-o, who knew little of such things, she appeared to be a well-beloved granddaughter.
It struck Tae-o as profoundly strange. Whatever else might be true—that he had two other sons, that the succession was already well secured—his son had still died yesterday. Yet his bearing was utterly unlike any grief-stricken relative Tae-o had ever encountered.
Did the royal family always become so indifferent even to the death of a son? Tae-o pressed his foot against the carpet beneath him, lost in thought.
“So then.”
In an instant, his voice sharpened. He seemed a figure of steel who had guided the independence wars and the major events of modern history. His voice held such clarity that it seemed impossible it came from a man in his nineties.
“I hope the news that the Lady of Cheonyang brings is good news.”
Tae-o, who had been silently mocking the royal family in his mind, felt his breath catch.
His gaze, fixed below forty-five degrees, wavered, and he felt the tips of his carefully folded hands tremble.
At least this Emperor was different from the royals Tae-o had known. He seemed to occupy a level that could not be compared to anyone else. Whether or not he was a callous father, he was undeniably a clear-sighted ruler.
Unlike the tense Tae-o, the one whose name had been spoken remained composed. She continued her account with the same calm tone as before, unhurried.
“I fear I cannot speak of it as good news. Yet because it is something that must be reported, I have hastened to seek audience with Your Majesty.”
“There must be reason for such haste. Speak.”
She, who had been speaking only to the Emperor, finally turned to look back. And she made a light gesture to Tae-o. For someone she had met only three times, her manner was intimate.
Yet Tae-o obeyed her summons without hesitation, stepping close beside her and bowing respectfully. He had kept his promise not to behave rudely even toward the elderly.
“This man is a detective with the National Police Agency serving as head of the Special Investigation Task Force.”
“Ah. Inspector Tae-o Gwon, if I recall correctly.”
The Emperor spoke Tae-o’s name. Tae-o gave a slight start at the sound of it.
The Emperor’s gaze was sharper than the bitter cold of winter. Though he was advanced in years, one could sense the presence of an old commander who had seen warfare itself. Tae-o, with his long career in criminal investigation, found himself momentarily overwhelmed by such formidable bearing.
Had he encountered the Emperor as an enemy general during wartime, he would surely have been cut down by the weight of that stare alone. Here was a formidable opponent.
“I am working to find answers to why Your Majesty entrusted this matter to me,” Tae-o replied.
The Emperor’s gaze shifted slowly toward Seon. She did not spare him a single glance. She stood perfectly upright, meeting the Emperor’s eyes directly.
“The Lord of Cheonyang would not be careless with such a matter.”
The Emperor nodded.
“Then is the investigation proceeding as you wish?”
As the Emperor asked this, his gaze fell upon Tae-o. A weight descended upon him—a pressure he had never felt before.
“The Lord is doing everything within her power,” Tae-o heard himself say.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere that drew the words from him unbidden.
“But the truth is, the investigation has become difficult under the current circumstances.”
“I suspected there would be those who seek to obstruct the investigation.”
The Emperor murmured in a voice heavy with fatigue. A man in his nineties without real authority, a woman without real power—and yet both had stepped forward to uncover the truth of the Crown Prince’s death. Tae-o suddenly felt ashamed of his own hesitation.
“But if we can find decisive evidence, we’ll be able to turn the tide in our favor, Your Majesty,” Seon said softly.
She spoke with careful deliberation.
“Decisive evidence? How do you propose to find such a thing?”
The Emperor asked as if probing her resolve. Curiosity and something akin to satisfaction flickered in his deeply lined eyes.
Now came the hardest part. Tae-o found himself faltering naturally. It was always difficult to recommend an autopsy to a parent. Every parent wishes to see their child laid to rest whole and undisturbed.
“Your Majesty.”
Seon, sensing Tae-o’s hesitation, stepped forward and bowed her head. She had no intention of shifting this burden to him. If it brought anger upon her head, so be it—that was her burden to bear. It was she who had chosen to set this course.
“Grant permission for the autopsy of the Crown Prince.”
And she detonated the bomb in his stead.
Tae-o’s eyes widened as he looked at Seon, but both she and the Emperor remained utterly composed, their expressions unmoved.

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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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