Royal Coup d'État - Chapter 3

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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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Episode 3
Though age had bent his spine and bowed his shoulders, diminishing his frame, neither his bearing nor his dignity had faded easily.
The Emperor greeted her with a weary face. Despite his ninety years, he maintained a youthful appearance, yet the wrinkles carved by the grief of losing two sons could not be hidden.
Twenty years ago, he had already lost his third son. They said it was a traffic accident then too. Now, after two decades—enough time for mountains and rivers to change—he had sent his eldest son away in an identical accident. She could not begin to comprehend that sorrow.
“Your Majesty.”
She barely managed to open her mouth. It was not easy to overcome the weight of the Emperor’s contemplation and speak.
Yet the Emperor did not answer readily. Instead, he raised one hand slowly, asking for time. He seemed to gather his thoughts with deep, frequent sighs. The sorrow mingled in those sighs shook her calm heart.
After taking a moment to choose his words, he finally spoke.
“Sun.”
His voice carried profound anguish.
The Emperor always maintained his composure, never revealing disturbance regardless of circumstance, striving above all to conduct himself as befitted royalty. Yet this time, even he was shaken.
“The Crown Prince will soon be transferred to Suhakwon Hospital. Since the Crown Princess has already gone to Suwon, they will come up together once arrangements are made.”
“I heard he hasn’t passed away yet.”
At her question, the Emperor exhaled another deep sigh.
“When the ambulance arrived, his heart had already stopped—they barely managed to revive him. During transport, he suffered cardiac arrest again, and they managed only to keep him breathing.”
The situation the Emperor described was more horrific than what she had heard. The implicit meaning contained in that hopeless assessment was far more enormous than she had realized.
“Those who still draw breath must carry out their duties. Is that not what it means to be of the Imperial Family?”
The Emperor continued with difficulty.
“We shall establish the State Funeral Board shortly to prepare for the funeral rites. Your father shall serve as Chief Mourner, so know this well.”
“Father?”
She voiced her protest with hesitation. Since the Constitutional Monarchy had been established, the role of Chief Mourner in State Funerals had typically been held by the heir presumptive after the Crown Prince.
At the State Funeral of the previous Emperor and Empress, Yeon Chin Wang, as the eldest son, had assumed the role. At the State Funeral of the Empress Dowager, Yi Gu Daegun had assumed it. This suggested that by custom, Yi Gu Daegun, the highest in rank, should assume this funeral as well.
The sudden mention of her father’s name unsettled her. No matter how much she disliked Yi Gu Daegun and his wife, their rank as the second in line after the Crown Prince could not be surpassed.
Her father, Yi Jeong Daegun, stood at fifth in rank. Even if the succession were reorganized after the Crown Prince’s death, would he not merely rise to fourth?
“Why would you entrust such a weighty responsibility to my father? There is precedent, so there will surely be objections.”
Yi Gu Daegun was a man crawling with ambition. One could not tell whose blood ran in his veins. Whatever he had set his heart on possessing, he had to have, and yet he was more sensitive than anyone to losing what was his.
Sun, who had long received Yi Gu Daegun’s neglect, knew well how to handle him. The only method was to ignore him as much as possible until a proper approach could be found, and to avoid turning one’s back on him.
“Yi Gu Daegun cannot be.”
Yet the Emperor answered her concern decisively.
Under ordinary circumstances, she might have yielded at this point. Sun was a dutiful granddaughter who understood the weight of the Emperor’s word as a member of the Imperial Family.
But she too was human. The balance of power was shifting. No matter how reluctant she was about him becoming Crown Prince, it was not something she could prevent by force alone now.
Yi Gu Daegun was a cruel man. Especially to those who turned their backs on him. How many members of the Imperial Family had been cast aside for speaking a single cross word to him?
If all the scales had already tipped, was there anything she could do but hold her breath? To rush recklessly at one’s enemies from a position of helplessness was something only a moth flying into flame would do.
“I fail to grasp your reasoning.”
She protested indirectly.
“Yi Gu Daegun already has experience serving as Chief Mourner.”
“Sun.”
The Emperor shook his head once more and called her name. Her anxious eyes met his.
The Emperor’s eyes, which must have shone brilliantly in his youth, now lay dark and murky.
The deep sorrow contained within them could not be explained away in words alone. The anxiety and survival instinct she had felt upon her uncle’s death became shameful begging before him.
“There is still much I cannot tell you yet, little one.”
The Emperor spoke in a weary voice. Listening closely, she could hear his voice crack at the end—he too had been weeping before she arrived.
An Emperor is still a father in the end. To the Crown Prince, to Yi Gu Daegun, to Yi Jeong Daegun, and to Yi Young Daegun, who had died twenty years before.
For such a father to knowingly pass over the ambitions of his second son and instead designate his youngest must have a reason.
She felt her muddled mind sharpen. Even in this devastating moment of losing his eldest son, he was still making the best choice as Emperor.
“Yet I can say there is something suspicious about the Crown Prince’s accident.”
“What do you mean by that?”
In that instant, a hazy image flashed through her mind.
A Limousine completely overturned from the collision. A small child barely gasping for breath.
A girl bleeding from shards of the accident as she cradled that child.
And a blurred-faced man tapping the half-shattered window with his foot, confirming something.
“I’ll need to conduct a proper investigation into the details.”
The Emperor mumbled and exhaled, then gestured toward her. Standing by the door, she moved forward at his summons.
They were now close enough to touch. The Emperor slowly extended his arm and took her hand. His grip, contrary to his weathered, wrinkled hand, held considerable strength.
“I have much to entrust to you, child.”
“To me?”
As she hesitated for a moment, his grip tightened further. It was difficult to believe such strength came from a ninety-year-old man. He held her hand firmly, as if he would never let go, and spoke.
“Whatever comes before you, do not fear it, Lady of Cheonyang.”
“Your Majesty?”
“You are of the Imperial Family. More than anyone, you are the most truly of the Imperial Family. Do you understand what I mean?”
The Emperor’s voice grew heavy in an instant. Without thinking, I swallowed hard.
When Grandfather wielded his authority like this, emphasizing rank and station, I felt utterly paralyzed. The weight of being Royalty, with all its attendant duties, wrapped around me in the name of responsibility.
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You’re a clever child.”
The Emperor murmured something indecipherable, then fixed me with a direct stare. His eyes were sharper than I’d ever seen them.
“Your father will be coming up to Seoul soon enough. In the meantime, you’re to remain at Byeol-gung. It may be troublesome, but I need you to keep watch over the Imperial Family.”
Keeping watch over the Royalty was work I’d done before. My seven consecutive reelections to the Imperial Clan Council—positions I’d won by vote despite being unpopular among the family—owed entirely to the Emperor’s pressure.
“I’ll convene the Imperial Clan Council within days. Most of the Royalty will attend out of sheer curiosity, if nothing else. In such times, it’s better to keep them on a short leash. Watch them carefully.”
“I shall do so.”
“And one more thing.”
The Emperor released my hand. The pressure he’d exerted drained away, leaving his grip hollow.
As I opened and closed my fist, the Emperor pressed his eyes shut with his fingers. Exhaustion had overtaken him.
“As you can see, I am no longer what I once was. An old man grown feeble—why would the Royalty fear me? That is why your help is so desperately needed.”
“How could I ever be of help to you, Your Majesty?”
“Oh, you will be. Of great help indeed.”
The Emperor smiled faintly, then reached for the water glass beside him and drank deeply. Through the transparent cup, the water disappeared slowly, very slowly.
“As you know, the death of any member of the Royalty must undergo basic investigation as a matter of protocol. The Crown Prince did not officially die, but this was a serious incident, so the Imperial Family Special Investigation Team will be formed. The Saheonbu will also participate.”
The Royalty were not ordinary beings. Even if someone died of natural causes, investigations were customarily conducted to account for any unforeseen circumstances. Yet such inquiries rarely went as far as autopsies or serious probes—usually they amounted to little more than fact-finding.
But the Emperor’s mention of this investigation suggested purpose. There was a clarity in his resolve: this would not be a mere show of procedure.
“I shall recommend you. Join the investigation alongside the Saheonbu.”
“Pardon?”
I touched my ear uncertainly and asked him to repeat himself. I was certain I’d misheard.
The Saheonbu, being a bureau specialized in inspection and enforcement, could hold their own in any investigation. But I was different. I was someone competent at fulfilling assigned duties and honoring given obligations—a minor figure in the palace, truly, a minor member of the Royalty at best.
There were many ambitious courtiers in the Imperial House who would welcome such a grand commission, but I was not one of them. I believed in keeping to one’s station. A person should live within their proper measure.
Yet the Emperor pressed on, driving the point home with repetition.
“You are to participate in the investigation.”
“Your Majesty!”
“You, though no expert, will surely see things others cannot.”
The Emperor spoke with unmistakable conviction.
“Perhaps you will finally find the answer to the question you have long harbored in secret.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Did Grandfather know of the doubt I’d carried alone all this time? Yet when I met his gaze, I found no reproach in his eyes.
Still bewildered, the day after the Crown Prince’s accident dawned.

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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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