Royal Coup d'État - Chapter 27

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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 27
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Ding-dong.
Unit 1203. The officetel was unfamiliar to Tae-o, yet Sun pressed the buzzer without hesitation, as though she knew her way around.
Two loud chimes rang out, and the sound of rustling came from inside. Heavy footsteps drew gradually closer, and then a clear voice announced that the lock had disengaged.
The door swung open. Whoever had checked the visitor on the intercom showed no hesitation in opening it—evidently giving no thought to any uninvited second guest waiting outside.
“Sun!”
The man who burst from the doorway made Tae-o frown immediately. The man inside did the same, his eyes darting between Sun and Tae-o before his face crumpled in confusion.
“Who did you drag in here?”
“Didn’t I mention him? He’s helping me with something for now.”
For now?
Sun’s callous words made Tae-o’s fists clench.
She wasn’t wrong. Ever since resolving to cooperate with this investigation, Tae-o had never ruled Sun out as a suspect. If the royals were involved, approaching those closest to them would be easiest.
Sun’s distrust of him and her distance were no more strange than his own suspicions. He had no right to feel hurt. Yet that qualifying phrase—”for now”—grated against him in a way he couldn’t quite suppress.
“I’ll explain the details once we’re inside.”
Sun’s voice pulled Tae-o from his brooding. Truly willful. He let out a hollow laugh and crossed his arms.
“You’re asking me to walk into a stranger’s home?”
“Does a detective really get nervous about things like that?”
The artless quality of her voice caught Tae-o off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.
“Fair point. I suppose I might not know better.”
Sun showed little reaction to his pointed comment. In fact, she turned toward the man and laughed in a bright, teasing way. That smile carried a freshness he’d never seen directed at him—and Tae-o’s mood plummeted again.
Why does someone who laughs so easily and brightly always wear such a rigid, stern face around me? She needs me for this investigation, but is she also saying she finds my presence equally tiresome?
“This is my older brother.”
“…I’m sorry?”
Tae-o pressed his forehead, knowing perfectly well what he’d heard.
“A cousin, really. Yi Dong from Yeongpyeong. You really don’t know him?”
“I’ve always been glad he isn’t famous. But it’s still unsettling to have it happen right in front of me like this.”
As Sun and Dong exchanged words, Tae-o gradually lowered his arms. The tension that had coiled through his body released, and his mind cleared.
Family and work are different things. Of course her manner would differ.
With that rationalization, his unease settled considerably.
* * *
“Do you even maintain contact with a first cousin once removed in this day and age?”
After some back and forth, the two stepped into Dong’s officetel and were shown to the living room sofa.
For a place where royalty resided, it was unremarkable. The layout was nearly identical to Tae-o’s current apartment, and the size was the same.
Sun’s lips, which had been tight throughout the journey here, curved into a pretty crescent smile once they entered.
Dong explained, without being asked, that aside from the Jeungpyeong Main House, he’d received no separate royal residence from the palace, and since the Imperial Cultural Foundation was in Seoul, the commute was consuming too much time, so he’d begun living on his own. Tae-o glanced around, slightly surprised, and Sun provided the explanation for him.
Tae-o asked a question while listening to her account, and Sun answered earnestly.
“The Bokhung Gun Residence is closest to my cousin’s palace in Jincheon. I spent a lot of time with my brother growing up.”
Yet Tae-o still looked at Dong with eyes full of doubt, scanning him up and down. He admits the two are different from the royals he’s met—the Emperor and the Cheongyang County Governor. But this man appeared in no intelligence database. The usual habits of collateral-line royalty were too predictable.
“Can I really trust this? The County Governor said that security is especially important in this matter.”
“Perhaps. But this older brother is likely very different from the other first cousins once removed you know.”
Sun answered evenly.
“Those drinking buddies that Detective Kwan might know—the ones with their various titles and positions. It would be unfair to lump him in with that lot.”
Dong shuddered at being compared to other royals. From his grimaced expression, Tae-o could sense his genuine horror at the mere thought.
“Didn’t I tell you just now? If you’re going to work with me, you’d do well to choose your words carefully.”
Sun’s gaze turned toward Tae-o, cold enough to sting. The brightness in her eyes—so much smaller and more delicate than himself—felt piercing. In that moment, Tae-o recognized again that he’d allowed prejudice to cloud his judgment.
“I don’t form friendships with just anyone. That goes for relatives too. So I hope you won’t give me reason to regret choosing you.”
For a moment, Tae-o stared at Sun as if he’d taken a blow. She narrowed her eyes and smiled, clearly having meant exactly that.
“Anyway, this older brother of mine needs sleep more than he needs alcohol.”
“Then why did you borrow this older brother’s comfortable resting place, knowing that?”
Dong played along, his tone teasing as he redirected the conversation.
The two looked like genuinely carefree siblings. Though they were only first cousins once removed—a kinship too distant for modern times—they displayed an intimacy deeper than blood siblings.
The way he playfully flicked her forehead while scolding her, and the way she rebuked him in turn—their natural ease with each other made something in Tae-o break open. What stood before him now was not some grand member of the royal family, but an ordinary cousin and sister.
“The Jong-chin Council will convene the day after tomorrow.”
Sun’s voice dipped low, the laughter and chatter fading in an instant.
“And I heard that’s when they’ll discuss the Succession to the Throne.”
“Yeongchanggun mentioned it to me. He said he’d had an audience with the Emperor.”
Dong nodded. Yeongchanggun, son of Gongchin Wang, was someone more aligned with their side. Sun’s eyes brightened as she asked.
“Did he say what was discussed during the audience?”
“No. Those people keep their lips sealed. All I gathered was that the Council’s agenda would be heavy.”
There was a resigned quality to the way Seon pressed her lips together. That someone leaned toward her side didn’t necessarily mean they leaned toward her own. Given the intense loyalties that ran through Gongchin Wang’s household, even if Dong were close to her, they would never share sensitive information.
She understood the Emperor’s intention—to place Dong on the throne. But how?
Seon tapped her index finger against the sofa’s armrest, a rhythmic drumming. It was impossible to predict what would unfold in that conference room. Even her grandfather had never been quite this difficult to read.
“In any case, what’s certain is that I can’t accompany the autopsy.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Tae-o turned sharply to face her.
“Even if I obtain the Crown Princess’s consent, I’d have to slip away unofficially. To navigate the movements, I’ll need help from the royal family.”
As Tae-o said, the Binjeon where the Crown Prince’s body lay at Suhakwon University Hospital was a VIP mortuary chamber—a place so secret it didn’t even appear on the hospital’s blueprints. Though she’d been inside once and confirmed the layout, navigating alone through unfamiliar corridors and slipping away undetected would be no simple task.
“I can’t go myself, so I’ll send another member of the royal family with you.”
Seon spoke with certainty.
“My brother will go with you.”
“Me?”
Dong pointed at himself with one finger, his tone questioning. Tae-o’s expression was equally troubled.
“I don’t have many friends, and my trustworthy relatives are few.”
“And you’re certain this person can be trusted?”
“I told you. He’s family.”
Seon answered with unwavering confidence.
Tae-o made no effort to hide his frustration in his face.
In a situation where the second-oldest uncle might have murdered his own uncle, trusting family seemed either naive or foolish. Setting aside all preconceptions about the royal family, wasn’t this precisely the moment when suspicion of anyone was rational?
Yet Seon paid no attention to his dubious gaze.
“My brother knows Suhakwon University Hospital better than anyone.”
“Any member of the royal family would, I’d think.”
Tae-o grumbled in displeasure. The fact that Suhakwon University Hospital was the most favored institution among the royal family was common knowledge even to ordinary citizens. Yet Seon and Dong exchanged glances, communicating something beyond words.
Dong, who had initially been reluctant, finally surrendered.
“Will it be all right if I’m not at the Jong-chin Council meeting?”
“I’m asking you to handle something more important.”
Tae-o, unfamiliar with what the Jong-chin Council was, felt slighted by the solemnity of their exchange.
He had no wish to engage in such petty squabbling, but the task Tae-o had been assigned required its own grim resolve. Smuggling out the Crown Prince’s body, no less.
If caught, he’d face both the Crime of Insulting the Royal Family and the Crime of Concealing a Corpse. It would pour sewage all over his bright, unblemished future. It was a role no less grave than that of this seemingly innocent man.
Tae-o touched his ear nervously as he asked, “Will things really succeed if I go with this… brother instead of County Governor?”
“It will probably work better than if I went.”
Seon answered while gauging Dong’s reaction. Dong opened his lips, which trembled slightly, and spoke.
I have an older sister who died before I could even finish middle school. Because of her, I’ve been in that mortuary chamber far more often than Seon has, so I’ll be more useful this time.”
The shadow that had been absent moments before, when he’d been teasing his younger sister like an ordinary brother, now settled deep across his features. Beneath his calm tone, a tremor could be heard.
He had unearthed a wound buried long ago, exposing it before a stranger like Tae-o, with the deliberate intention of reassuring him. A quiet encouragement—that he could do well without Seon, that quiet, unexpected maturity.
For now, each of them had to give their all in their own place. There was no room for complaint about working separately. As if regretting his own naivety, Tae-o bowed his head briefly to Dong.
Now it was time for Tae-o and Seon to move forward, each fulfilling their role.

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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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