Royal Coup d'État - Chapter 32

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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 32
* * *
Despite the lingering heat, autumn was unmistakably upon them—the sun set faster than it had just weeks before. She’d entered the palace in broad daylight, yet already the glow of dusk colored the sky. The length of that meeting alone was proof enough of how grueling it had been.
The limousine carrying her slipped out of Changgyeong Palace and headed toward the Han River.
Because nearly every member of the imperial family had gathered for today’s conference, no press corps had bothered to follow her route change. With even Ui-gu Daegun and Gyeong-an Gun in attendance, no idle reporter would waste their time chasing someone of her rank.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her attention settle into the rhythm of the car’s motion. Having slipped past rush hour, the wheels showed no sign of slowing. As the vehicle hummed steadily forward, she began arranging her thoughts.
The autopsy had concluded successfully. The body had been safely returned to Suhakwon Hospital. Dong remained there to brief the Crown Princess and keep her company for a while—that much was reassuring.
Ui-gu Daegun hadn’t detected anything amiss either. He might resent not being appointed Crown Prince immediately, but that didn’t mean the position was slipping from his grasp.
She didn’t know how far the Emperor intended to go, but at least Ui-gu Daegun seemed pacified for now.
‘Though I can’t afford to let my guard down.’
She tightened the fist resting on her knee.
Ui-gu Daegun was like a fox—deceptively simple one moment, yet possessed an uncanny ability to spot anything that worked against him, and would strike without hesitation when he did.
The instant word of the autopsy reached his ears, it wouldn’t end with a simple denial.
Two days until the detailed examination results came back. Within that window, she had to be flawless to avoid discovery.
“We’ve arrived, my lady.”
The limousine gradually slowed, then pulled into a quiet parking lot. Empty except for her own vehicle and a single black sedan, the lot felt abandoned.
She sensed Seok-chul’s glance as he looked back, and opened her eyes slowly. Meeting his gaze, she nodded and picked up the casual hat she’d set on the passenger seat, pulling it low over her head.
The simple cap clashed entirely with the formal attire she’d worn to the conference.
With her face hidden beneath the brim, she quietly opened the car door. The whole clandestine meeting felt like something out of a spy film.
Beyond the parking lot lay a small thicket. Parting the weeds that reached to her ankle, she stepped forward until a path appeared—the kind ordinary people used to pass through.
Beyond it stretched a fence, erected with warnings about the danger ahead. Leaning against that very fence, gazing out at the Han River, stood a man.
“…….”
She stood on the path, observing his back.
The autumn breeze caught Tae-o’s dark hair, sending it rippling. The neatly combed locks from their first meeting now scattered carelessly with each gust of wind.
Watching his lost expression, she found herself holding her breath without meaning to. Only the harsh whisper of fallen leaves being dragged across the ground filled the space between them.
What was he thinking? Would he persist in this choice they’d made together, or would there come a moment when he drew a line and retreated to the safe, ordered life he’d known before?
She lowered her gaze. How far could she trust him? And how far could she draw him in? The spiral of doubt rooted her feet to the ground.
A sharp gust swept between them, scattering dust and broken leaves across her face. She raised her arm to shield herself, and the wind simply redirected around her body.
When she lowered her arm and looked up, Tae-o had already turned to face her.
“You’ve come.”
His brief greeting earned a nod. Being caught watching him like this—that was something she’d preferred to keep hidden. It felt like exposing the most fragile parts of herself.
She walked slowly toward him, stopping at the fence with enough space between them for one more person to stand comfortably.
Tae-o said nothing about the distance. The cold scent of the wind clung to him as he stood beside her.
“Did you wait long?”
“A little, but it was fine. I needed to air out after the National Forensic Service, anyway.”
Tae-o answered in his steady tone. At moments like this, she was reminded that he truly was a detective.
“You’ve worked hard. I heard you ran into some difficulties along the way.”
“Nothing major. The fact that Yeongpyeong Do-jeong hasn’t sent word suggests there hasn’t been any unusual chatter on their end either.”
She nodded slowly. On her way over, Dong had mentioned how close they’d come to being discovered by the Ikwisa—that alone had startled her.
“About the autopsy results.”
Tae-o began, his words measured.
Dong had relayed that they’d have to wait two days for the detailed examination findings, but she hadn’t learned what had actually happened during their time at the National Forensic Service.
She swallowed carefully.
“Externally, nothing unusual was found. From what they observed, the cause of death appears to be a traffic accident without question.”
“Then there must have been an issue with the internal organs.”
She answered quickly. Tae-o’s eyebrows rose with surprise at her intuition.
“The intestines were somewhat swollen, apparently. It could be attributed to severe internal bleeding from the accident, but they noted something unusual about it that didn’t quite fit that explanation.”
“Unusual in what way?”
“It could be simple gastroenteritis, or trauma from the impact. Or perhaps something from food he wasn’t accustomed to eating.”
“Food.”
She turned the word over in her mind.
Imperial family members of her rank didn’t have record keepers assigned, but the Emperor and the Crown Prince always had court historians documenting their every movement.
Regarding meals in particular, everything was meticulously recorded—the ingredients used, the day’s menu, who delivered the food, the amount consumed.
Of course, this wasn’t an age when one could use the old tricks of poisoned persimmons and spoiled crab paste served together. But records weren’t solely the domain of historians. Every room in the imperial residences had CCTV, making every action traceable.
“The problem is that His Highness the Crown Prince didn’t depart from the East Palace that day.”
She tapped her index finger against the fence deliberately.
If something had been wrong with food at the Imperial Palace, it could have been cross-verified through CCTV and records. But the Crown Prince had attended an international event in Gaesong the previous day, then traveled immediately to Suwon. The branch palaces in those cities weren’t equipped with systems as thorough as the capital’s Imperial Palace.
“I’ll look into detailed records of what food His Highness the Crown Prince consumed that day and whom he met. It might be difficult for me to access, but… I should try nonetheless.”
“That alone will be a great help.”
Tae-o’s voice carried new resolve. It drifted to her on the fluttering autumn breeze.
“I’ll be able to bring it to light.”
Tae-o added the words in his flat, measured tone.
She didn’t trust him completely, but she felt the comfort he was offering her clearly enough.
Sun nodded with a faint smile. That was enough. There was no room left to dwell in emotion.
The autopsy results pointed in one direction—a horrifying direction that ruled out accident entirely.
Moreover, the flow of today’s Imperial Family Council meeting had been far too deliberate. She felt it clearly: the Emperor was desperately buying time. And that time would be spent on one thing—putting someone’s mind at ease.
Sun’s eyes slowly darkened.
“I will uncover the truth.”
There was only one answer now. Already the board was laid out, and now even the Emperor moved like a chess piece across it—she couldn’t just wait to be chosen by someone.
The evidence, the board, the justification—if she seized them all with her own hands, that would be the end of it. That was the only way to survive to the finish.
* * *
She returned to Byeol-gung sometime after eight.
The traffic had made her whole body ache, and Sun moved with slow, heavy steps.
The Byeol-dang where Sun stayed was structured so she didn’t need to pass through the main residence. She hesitated for a moment seeing the lights blazing in the main house, but she turned her feet toward the Byeol-dang instead.
Yet the Byeol-dang, which should have been dark, was just as brightly lit as the main residence. She could see the palace maids lingering outside, murmuring among themselves.
‘Not a moment’s peace.’
Sun let out a shallow sigh and straightened her spine.
At the sound of her presence, the maids startled and fell silent. Then they quickly approached her and bowed.
“Is Father inside?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Sun pressed at the bridge of her nose as if exhausted.
“And he won’t be alone, I imagine.”
“Ui-jeong Daegun and his lady have been waiting for some time.”
“Yes. I thought as much.”
She’d felt relieved seeing the lights on in the main house—a false comfort, as it turned out.
Having avoided her parents for days, the prospect of facing them felt nothing but awkward.
She knew them too well: the moment they learned the Emperor had chosen her as a candidate for the succession, they would never sit still. She wanted to postpone the truth as long as possible.
But now that they’d already entered her sanctuary and were waiting there, there was nowhere left to retreat. Especially if they’d somehow caught wind of something.
Avoidance wouldn’t solve anything. They were her parents; a moment of reckoning was inevitable.
Sun drew a short breath. She’d at least hoped it wouldn’t be tonight—the council meeting, the encounter with Tae-o. The day had simply been too long.
Sun approached with measured steps and entered the Byeol-dang. She passed through the corridor, went by the rooms where the palace maids stayed, and came to her own chamber deep within. Suppressing the urge to turn back, she grasped the handle and twisted it open.
“Father. Mother.”
Inside were Ui-jeong Daegun, pacing with a sickly pale face, and Yeosan Bubuin, already with tears streaming down her cheeks, her face buried in her hands.
Perhaps facing her parents was an even harder trial than facing Ui-gu Daegun. Sun’s sigh deepened.

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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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