The 21st Century Grand Grand Duchess in the Royal Academy - Chapter 13

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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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A Twenty-First Century Grand Duchess in the Royal Academy
The Impossible
“So that’s what a formal meeting is, isn’t it?”
When Wan responded irritably, Choi Sanggung didn’t know what to do.
“Your Majesty mentioned it was a Royal Hospital inspection.”
“That’s just an excuse. The hospital director is Yoon Irang’s father, after all.”
“The Royal Hospital operates with the patronage of the Royal Foundation. The Royal Family must demonstrate continued interest….”
“That’s exactly—”
Wan cut off her words, furrowing his brow.
“Why are you dragging me to such an important occasion?”
The more important the event, the more my father excluded me. When he deliberately called for me, there was always a reason—either he had something to lecture me about, or he needed a family atmosphere for appearances. But lately, I hadn’t done anything worth lecturing over. Well, I had, but I hadn’t been caught. Besides, I had the excellent shield of entrance exam season. Even the King couldn’t interfere with his son’s studies, and Mother, being a parent herself, seemed to have no desire to disrupt my preparations.
And yet, a Royal Hospital inspection of all things.
I couldn’t help but feel open resentment. It wasn’t that I disliked Yoon Irang, nor did I dislike her father. But I hated this kind of orchestrated theater. My days were already a constant performance, even without occasions like this.
Still, judging by how they kept summoning me with excuses about the hospital inspection and other things I’d never heard of, they seemed to have no such intention.
“Sigh….”
I exhaled deeply, observing the anxious Choi Sanggung. If I refused to go, only she would suffer the consequences, so there was no way around it.
“I’ll go, so relax.”
“Truly, Your Highness?”
“The excuse about being busy with entrance exams won’t work anyway, will it?”
“Indeed, it won’t.”
“Then I have to go. What choice do I have?”
Only then did Choi Sanggung begin selecting clothes with ease of mind. The dressing room of a Grand Prince not yet nineteen was filled with well-tailored suits.
Dressed in the suit Choi Sanggung had chosen, I arrived at the Royal Hospital and bowed deeply to Mother, who had arrived first. The King, regarding his son with displeasure, merely said, “You’re late,” while only the Crown Prince beside him showed warmth through a subtle glance.
“Grand Prince, thank you for gracing us with your presence.”
A man with a benevolent face bowed respectfully to me. He was the hospital director—the future father-in-law of the Crown Prince. I stared at him without hiding my curiosity. His face was familiar from the various events the Royal Family hosted, so it wasn’t awkward. Above all, his eyes resembled Irang’s.
“I’ve heard much from Mother.”
I gave a response devoid of even a gram of sincerity, then shrugged while looking at Father. I’d likely have five additional pages of reflection added to my punishment for such insolence, but I didn’t care.
The hospital inspection, which I thought would be nothing but tedious, turned out to have its own significance. From encouraging patients and their families in the Children’s Ward to visiting the Research Building and promising support, there wasn’t a single unnecessary moment. With dozens of photographs taken throughout, people’s interest would only grow.
Thanks to that, I could shake off the feeling that I was putting on a show for the masses.
But my older brother, walking a step ahead of me, looked strangely pale. His already white complexion had grown even whiter, which didn’t look good at all.
“Brother.”
I called out to Hwan quietly, observing his complexion.
“Are you alright?”
“….”
Instead of answering, Hwan closed his bloodshot eyes for a long moment, then opened them. He had never liked crowded places. It was clear that this schedule would be torturous for someone who disliked being photographed, loud noises, and commotion alike.
“Father.”
I finally called out to my father.
“I think it would be best if we took a brief rest.”
“….”
“….”
Though his father’s gaze grew cold as he stared at him, Wan paid it no mind and continued.
“It hasn’t even been three hours yet.”
“Wan.”
Ignoring his father’s call lightly, Wan turned his attention to the Director.
“Is there a quiet space where I might rest?”
“…Of course. Your Highness.”
Following the Director toward the Director’s Office, Wan reflected that the reflection essay he’d need to write today would likely stretch to ten pages instead of five. Yet the grateful expression on his brother’s face was like that of a rabbit brought back from the brink of death.
What choice did I have? If my brother collapsed in the middle of the hospital, if word got out—that would be far worse.
The rest in the Director’s Office was brief. Before an awkward conversation could stretch beyond thirty minutes, Yoon Irang arrived. Dressed in an immaculate one-piece, she bowed with flawless grace, and Mother’s expression upon seeing her was precisely that of a woman observing her own daughter.
When Hwan and Yoon Irang eventually became husband and wife, today’s incident would undoubtedly become a romantic anecdote passed around. One beginning with “They nurtured their love while volunteering at Royal Hospital—”
More than anything, today’s story would spread from mouth to mouth. Who the Crown Prince had met, how perfectly the Crown Prince and the Director’s daughter complemented each other, how satisfied His Majesty’s expression had been—there was more than enough to discuss.
It must have been Mother’s plan to counter concerns that royal marriages appeared too calculated.
“Please enter carefully, Your Majesty.”
So they would receive greetings in front of the hospital where everyone could see.
Shaking his head to dispel his weary irritation, Wan headed toward his car parked at the rear. He longed to return to his Private Residence and rest. But—
“Wan.”
His father called him to a halt. Suppressing the urge to pretend he hadn’t heard, Wan turned around only to receive a thunderbolt of a command.
“Follow me. I have words for you at the Palace.”
“I’m exhausted today…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“…Yes, Mother.”
The atmosphere suggested that further resistance would be fatal, so Wan lowered his tail. His brother, who had been standing between Mother and him, exchanged glances before getting into the car. I hadn’t expected help from him anyway, so I wasn’t disappointed. He was the type who knew resistance to Mother meant death—what could he possibly do?
Honestly, who could tell who the older brother was anymore?
Clicking his tongue, Wan got into the car. After telling the driver they were heading to the Palace, he leaned his head against the headrest. The frustration rose to his throat, and he wanted to scream. But he knew that even one such outburst would create ripples that would strangle him further.
Fighting desperately wouldn’t change anything…
In that moment, a vivid memory flashed through his mind. A memory of a certain girl who made the impossible possible through sheer determination. Her voice echoed—the way she shot words at him without ever seeming intimidated. Her unwavering pride remained vivid, the pride of someone who had emerged victorious yet never became humble.
“…Sung Hee-joo.”
Muttering her name softly, Wan began to chuckle. He wondered what it would have been like if his brother’s match had been Sung Hee-joo instead of Yoon Irang. The thought was so amusing he couldn’t suppress his laughter. Even Mother would have struggled to handle such a daughter-in-law.
Yet another thought occurred to him. Would that junior remain as fiery when she grew older and became an adult? Wouldn’t she eventually become selective with her words and companions, like Yoon Irang with her ruler-measured perfection? If so, wouldn’t she too come to accept the impossible, compromise, and live a life of resignation?
Like I do now.
As his thoughts extended that far, Wan felt a melancholy settle over him. It was absurd that he worried about a junior he barely knew, yet he couldn’t stop this strange concern. He hoped she would never change, and if he could help preserve that, he wanted to.
But that too was impossible. His own father had ordered him to keep distance even from Yoon Irang, who would become family. He didn’t want to add another hurdle to that junior’s already obstacle-laden life.
So I’ll just cheer her on from afar.
After resolving this, his heart felt lighter—but melancholy crept back in just as quickly. He’d remembered that he would graduate soon. Since that junior was only in ninth grade, the days they’d see each other were numbered.
“Pointless to worry about this…”
Muttering to himself, Wan rested his chin on his hand irritably.
“Does she have any chance of early graduation?”
Wan spoke carelessly, driven by a sense of loss.

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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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