Royal Coup d'État - Chapter 37

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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 37
“I hope you won’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.”
Hong, who had been silent until then, spoke in measured tones.
“As members of the Royal Household Ministry, we deeply wish to clarify any suspicious aspects of the Crown Prince’s accident.”
“How could I doubt your loyalty?”
Yi Sun answered with a light laugh.
“After all, this is the Sarodo. Isn’t it the place that dedicates itself to serving the wellbeing of the royal house?”
“Thank you for saying so.”
Even Park, unable to spit in the face of a smile, began to laugh along.
Though laughter filled the conference room, it was as thin and treacherous as ice beneath a winter sun. None of the Sarodo inspectors—not Yi Sun, not any of them—smiled with their eyes. Behind the wary glances they cast each other, you could almost hear the whirring of calculators tallying private gains.
“I’m curious how far the vehicle inspection has progressed.”
The silence broke, and it was an unexpected voice that shattered it. An, who had been quietly observing the situation, spoke at last.
The Police Chief, visibly flustered, deferred to Yun, who stepped in to answer.
“We haven’t conducted a formal vehicle inspection. The car was so severely damaged, and the Black Box was beyond recovery, so there was nothing to examine. We only did a basic visual inspection and plan to scrap it soon.”
“That can’t be right. I sent photographs and a request for vehicle inspection to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency.”
“It’s the TF Team’s decision whether to pursue an investigation. Just because you submitted a request doesn’t mean we’re obligated to accept it, does it?”
Tae-o, watching Yun’s obstinate demeanor, let out a hollow laugh and inserted himself into the exchange.
“Wait.”
A single breath from him, and all eyes turned his way. Even if he’d been pushed out of the Police Agency, his influence hadn’t vanished with him.
“That’s strange. I never received any such materials.”
“Surely you understand we can’t pass everything along to you, Chief.”
Yun spoke with obvious flattery. Tae-o, exasperated, crossed his legs.
“The decision to accept or reject a proposal from another agency isn’t yours to make. As everyone here knows, I’m the team leader.”
“That is to say…”
“We hardly have anything else to do anyway. How else would we justify our salaries if we don’t investigate?”
Tae-o’s cold gaze fell on the Police Chief. He flinched at the accusation, hurriedly looking away.
“I hope we won’t draw this out unnecessarily.”
Park stepped in to defend the Police Chief. Tae-o’s lips curled slightly—clearly annoyed by her interference.
“What do you mean by drawing out an investigation?”
“Well, it seems unwise to keep an elderly emperor worrying for too long.”
“My goodness. You truly are loyal. Showing such concern for His Majesty!”
Yi Sun clapped her hands together as she spoke.
“I too worry constantly about our aged emperor. So I’ll make sure to explain matters to him so he needn’t fret.”
As Yi Sun smiled knowingly, Park’s lips trembled slightly. How could she push back further? By what means? No matter how much she tried to obstruct, she had no more leverage. The advantage had slipped into Yi Sun’s hands.
Yi Sun lifted her chin to meet Tae-o’s gaze. Beneath her cool, steady eyes lay a victory only she could recognize—and he saw it too. They understood each other perfectly.
“Chief Kwon, do your part. I’ll do mine.”
“Of course. Don’t worry.”
Their eyes met with easy confidence.
* * *
[This evening at 8 p.m., a British delegation entered Korea through Seoul Airport. The Crown Prince of Britain was received by the British Ambassador to Korea, while Yi Gyu and Foreign Affairs Ministry spokesman Shin Ji-hwan attended on our side.]
As the evening news began, all the networks broadcast Yi Gyu’s face and chattered endlessly about it.
The Crown Prince of Britain’s visit to Korea after years—a rare occasion. Yi Gyu greeting him. To the general public, this cause-and-effect relationship would likely appear much as the royal family intended it to seem.
Yi Gyu’s expression on the TV screen was similarly self-satisfied, his smugness painfully obvious.
The emperor’s second son receiving the heir of a powerful ally—a gesture that could only be read as announcing that he, too, would soon be an heir.
[The British delegation has moved to Seoul and is scheduled to pay respects tomorrow morning at the funeral shrine prepared at Yeohuidang in Changgyeonggung Palace. It is reported that Yi Gyu will handle all State Guest Treatment arrangements. This allows us to infer that the succession to the throne—which remained unclear following the death of the Crown Prince—has now been effectively determined.]
The anchor’s bright voice collided with Yi Gyu’s beaming face. At that serene image, the hand gripping the remote tightened. Blue veins stood out sharply across the weathered back of an elderly hand in his nineties.
“Your Majesty.”
In the central living quarters of Daejojeon, a thin voice was heard beside the emperor, who sat in the middle of an inlaid chair watching the portable television Sang-sun had brought.
The empress, growing frailer by the day, should have been resting on the heated stone floor receiving an IV drip, but with Roh’s support, she had made her way to the living room and approached with measured steps.
“Empress. Why have you come?”
The emperor gestured lightly to her—beckoning her to his side.
With Roh’s help, she approached the emperor, took his hand, and sat in a chair beside him. She was so unsteady on her feet that the emperor had to grip her shoulder firmly to keep her from swaying.
After having all attendants and servants withdrawn, the emperor asked her gently.
“Why don’t you rest in bed?”
“I’ve rested every day. Not a single day since the Crown Prince died.”
There was no light in the empress’s eyes as she met the emperor’s gaze.
What worried the emperor most now was the empress herself. It wasn’t that she had grown weak—she had held her position through all these years with quiet strength. Decades ago, when fire broke out in the palace, she had personally evacuated palace staff while heavy with child, such was her fortitude.
Yet time is a force that cannot be disregarded. And this was far from the first blow she had endured.
The emperor feared that she was losing her will to live itself. Sometimes that terror outweighed even concerns for the nation or the continuation of the dynasty.
It was for this reason that the emperor could not yet act hastily.
“How is the Crown Princess faring?”
The Empress asked in a voice drained of strength.
“Much the same. She remains at the Funeral Shrine, I’m told.”
“She’s always been delicate. But what troubles me is that even as we must steady the Royal Household itself, my own health is failing and the Crown Princess cannot move. It’s a difficult position.”
Even as she struggled with her own body, the Empress’s concern ran deep. It was not an anxiety that faded with age—it was rooted too firmly in duty and responsibility.
“It would help if Lady Yeosan could lend her support.”
“The youngest daughter-in-law is trying her best. She visits the Funeral Shrine every day to attend to the Crown Princess. But if we’re speaking of delicate constitutions, who would surpass her?”
The Empress exhaled slowly, then squeezed her eyes shut. For a moment, dizziness overtook her, and she pressed her fingers urgently to her temples.
“Empress, you should retire and rest now. There’s no use straining yourself further—you’ll only make yourself worse.”
The Emperor’s words, spoken with concern, did not deter her. Now her gaze fixed on their son in the television screen.
[Public interest in the Royal Household is higher than ever these days. Here at SBC News, we’ve conducted a Public Opinion Poll.]
The anchor’s voice followed footage of the reception for the British delegation. Noticing the Empress’s attention shift to the news, the Emperor slowly turned his head as well.
[We surveyed one thousand men and women aged eighteen and older about who should inherit the throne next. Here are the results in graph form.]
Yi Gyu vanished from the screen as a graph appeared, and approval ratings began displaying one by one. The Emperor and Empress could not tear their eyes from the television, as if entranced.
[First place is Yi Gyu, the younger prince, at thirty percent. Second place is surprising: Yi Sun, the Yeongyang Princess, at twenty-one percent. Although public opinion polls regarding Succession to the Throne typically rank candidates according to their position in the Line of Succession, the Yeongyang Princess—whose rank in the line is far from the highest—is following close behind Yi Gyu.]
Yi Gyu thirty percent, Yi Sun twenty-one percent, Prince An ten percent……
The Emperor’s lips curved upward slightly as he traced the numbers in the graph with his finger, measuring them in the air. This was something even he had not anticipated.
The screen now shifted to the results of the survey on reasons for the votes. After a sound effect, the anchor continued.
[The vast majority of those who chose Yi Gyu gave as their reason that he is Your Majesty’s second son. With the Death of the Crown Prince, Yi Gyu has become first in the Line of Succession, so this was naturally the most fitting answer. But there is one point worth noting: the reasoning given by those who voted for Yi Sun in second place.]
In the sitting room of Daejojeon, even the sound of breathing was absent. Both the Emperor and Empress focused entirely on the anchor’s voice and the screen.
[Those who selected Yi Sun gave varied reasons. The most common answer was that she is the most exemplary member of the Royal Family. The next most frequent responses were similar: she has the highest attendance at official duties, she is well-known, and there were comments about the need for a fresh face.]
As the anchor’s words drew to a close, the Empress placed her hand on the Emperor’s thigh. He released his hand from her shoulder and grasped hers warmly.
“Your Majesty.”
Her eyes, devoid of any light, fixed upon him—those deep, dark pupils seemed to whisper a command.
“We must stop Yi Gyu.”
“Do not worry, Empress.”
“No one else can be allowed to suffer. Not anymore.”
The Empress spoke as if reciting an incantation to herself. Only after the Emperor nodded his assent several times did she seem reassured, resting her head against his shoulder. The moment her eyes closed and sleep claimed her, peace settled upon her features.

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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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