Song Jae wore a breathtaking white dress, its exquisite design making her appear as if she had stepped out of a celestial painting.
The intricate embroidery of lifelike butterflies shimmered under the sunlight, their delicate wings appearing to flutter with her every graceful step.
Standing beside her, the twin sisters, Song Nabi and Song Nari, felt like mere shadows against her radiance. If she was the flower in full bloom, they were but butterflies drawn to her beauty—enhancing yet paling in comparison.
Her transformation was undeniable. Over the past weeks, her once dull complexion had become luminous, her skin now a flawless shade of milky white. Every movement she made exuded an elegance that could captivate even the most indifferent of hearts.
As she walked toward the carriages, she noticed her sisters already waiting. It had been arranged that she would share a carriage with the twins, while the two concubine-born daughters would ride in another. Their brothers, of course, had their own separate carriage.
However, just as Song Jae was about to step inside, Song Nabi unexpectedly veered toward the concubine daughters' carriage.
"We'll ride in this one instead," she announced nonchalantly. "You two follow Elder sister Jae."
Without waiting for a response, she climbed inside.
Song Nari, raising an amused brow at her sister's sudden change of heart, followed suit. The two concubine daughters, Song Seo and Song Kyong, had no choice but to take the carriage meant for Song Jae, Song Nabi and Song Nari.
Overshadowed by the dazzling presence of Madam Jin's twin daughters, they had little room to object.
Inside the carriage, Song Jae found herself under the scrutinizing gaze of the concubine-born sisters.
But she, too, was watching them closely.
According to her maidservant, the two girls were daughters of Concubine Kong, the child of a fourth-grade official.
Concubine Kong had only managed to marry into the Prime Minister's household due to an unfortunate turn of fate—being born to a concubine herself, she had been a pawn in noble schemes, ultimately outmaneuvered by the first wife.
Despite their lower status, the two sisters possessed a unique beauty of their own.
Song Seo, the elder of the two, had a face that could mesmerize at first glance. Her large, star-like eyes shimmered with an allure that seemed almost too enchanting, while her lips—red as ripe cherries—held an unspoken invitation, soft and tempting.
Her younger sister, Song Kyong, carried a different charm. Her gentle, watery eyes evoked a sense of fragility, a silent plea for protection. This charm, however, was one reserved only for men.
Observing them, Song Jae felt no hostility toward the pair. Instead, she spoke with warmth.
"Don't be nervous when we arrive at the palace," she said gently. "Just be yourselves. You're still young, and no one will hold you accountable for any mistakes. If you run into any trouble, find me, or your elder sisters, Song Nabi and Song Nari."
Her words lingered in the air, casting a strange quiet over the carriage.
The twins exchanged glances, caught off guard by her unexpected kindness. Unlike the rest of the household, these two had never bullied her before. They were merely innocent girls—one, nine years old, and the other, also nine there were also twins .
The carriage continued onward in silence.
As they arrived at the palace gates, Song Jae stepped out first, the hem of her dress billowing in the gentle breeze.
She assisted the young twins down before walking over to where Song Nabi and Song Nari waited. Together, they entered the grand palace.
It was an unspoken rule that noble daughters from.poweful background should present a united front.
Even if it was only for show.
As they passed through the entrance, Song Jae noticed Song Seo and Song Kyong hesitating.
Though they were used to being overlooked at home, here, within the palace walls, ignoring or making fun of an illegitimate daughters was no new thing.
If they made an mistake in the Palace and rumors spread like wildfire in high society.
Any sign of discord within the Prime Minister's family would become the talk of the nobility by nightfall.
"Sisters, let's go in," Song Nari prompted smoothly, breaking the momentary pause.
The procession was divided into two lines—one for the women and girls, another for the men and boys. They wouldn't reunite until the Empress Dowager's birthday celebrations began.
For now, the women would admire the palace's famed flower gardens, while the men engaged in discussions with the Emperor.
Upon entering the Moonflower Palace, where the they are supposed to appreciate the flowers, Song Jae observed the clusters of noble daughters gathered around in hushed conversations.
They spoke of poetry, fashion, their words carefully curated to leave the best impression.
With the emperor's mother present, every young lady in attendance knew that the slightest misstep could tarnish their reputation.
Song Jae found her seat and glanced at the table before her. A spread of delicate pastries lay untouched, their inviting aroma wafting through the air.
She didn't know many of the young ladies present, so she merely observed, silent and composed.
Across from her, Song Seo and Song Kyong's longing gaze flickered toward the pastries, betraying their restraint.
Noticing this, Song Seo and Song Kyong exchanged subtle looks. Unlike the more composed daughters of the first wife, they didn't bother concealing their interest in sampling the delicacies before them.
Before the two twins could reach for the treats, the doors to the hall swung open.
A hush fell over the room.
An older woman in her late fifties entered, her dignified presence commanding immediate respect. Beside her was a younger woman in her early thirties, both followed by an entourage of palace maids.
The Empress Dowager. And the Empress.
As they approached the grand throne, the entire hall lowered in unison.
The palace maids bowed first, their movements fluid and precise.
The noble daughters followed suit, their voices ringing in practiced harmony.
"Ten thousand years to the Empress Dowager! Ten thousand years to the Empress!"
Without a word, the Empress Dowager ascended to her throne, settling into her seat with an air of quiet authority.
The Empress followed, her delicate features unreadable as she took her place beside her mother-in-law.
And thus, the admiration of the palace flowers finally begin. Now, the real spectacle would begin.
Although it was said to be a flower gathering it was so rigid that no one was even appreciating the flowers court, after all with the empress dowager yesun and the empress here, who will be willing to appreciate flowers when they were trying to leave a good impression on the two imperial family.
The young ladies where given opportunities to show case their talent.
The young noble girls eagerly took their turn, showcasing their talents in hopes of capturing the Empress's attention. One played the zither, her fingers gliding across the strings like whispers in the wind. Another recited poetry, her voice trembling yet earnest.
When it was Song Nabi's turn, she chose to paint—a flower revered for its difficulty, a symbol of longevity and prosperity. Each stroke of her brush was precise, her skill undeniable. The Empress Dowager nodded in approval.
Then came Song Jae's turn.
She stepped forward with a quiet confidence, unfurling her painting before the court. It depicted a towering castle, its walls imposing and unyielding. At its highest window, a lone girl stood, her sorrowful eyes gazing at the world beyond, longing for freedom.
A hush fell over the hall.
Before the Empress Dowager could speak, a sharp voice sliced through the silence.
"How dare you paint such a thing on the Empress Dowager's birthday?"
The voice belonged to Tae Yong, the second princess consort—though she had yet to marry the second prince, she already carried herself as royalty.
Her words dripped with accusation.
"What is the meaning of this? Are you implying that Her Majesty is imprisoned, and unhappy? That she will not live a long and free life?"
A murmur rippled through the hall. Some exchanged uneasy glances, while others smirked, eager to see Song Jae falter.
She lowered her head, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I didn't mean it that way. I… I was trying to convey something else."
Tae Yong's eyes narrowed. "Then explain."
Song Jae hesitated. If she misspoke now, it could spell disaster.
Finally, she took a deep breath and answered, "This painting is incomplete. I meant to depict a girl trapped by society's expectations… but one who ultimately breaks free, rising like a phoenix."
The Empress, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke. Her tone was calm, but it carried authority.
"What is your name, dear?"
Song Jae met her gaze and bowed deeply. "Song Jae, daughter of the Right Prime Minister."
The Empress smiled gently. "Song Jae, when you visit the palace again, I would love to see the completed piece."
It was a dismissal—but also a lifeline.
Song Jae bowed again, swallowing her relief. She had narrowly avoided disaster. Tae Yong's temper was infamous, and had the Empress not intervened, the consequences could have been severe.
The performances concluded, and the guests began moving toward the grand hall for the main banquet.
Song Jae followed, her mind still reeling from the earlier confrontation. As she took her seat, she cast a discreet glance toward the royal family.
The second and third princes sat beside their sisters, their expressions unreadable. The Emperor had three sons and three daughters—yet one person was conspicuously absent.
A wave of relief washed over her. But it was short-lived.
As the court prepared to present their gifts to the Empress Dowager, the doors suddenly swung open.
All eyes turned toward the entrance. A hush fell over the hall. Chul Kwan had arrived.
The audacity of his lateness made murmurs ripple through the gathering. Who would dare to arrive so tardy at a royal celebration?
And yet, as the figure stepped into the light, gasps of astonishment spread through the room.
It wasn't just anyone. It was the Crown Prince himself.
He wasn't expected to return so soon. The court had been informed that his military campaign had been delayed due to "personal matters." Yet here he stood, clad in dark robes embroidered with golden dragons, his presence commanding.
With effortless grace, he strode forward and bowed deeply.
"May the Emperor reign for ten thousand years. May the Empress Dowager live for ten thousand years. May the Empress enjoy ten thousand years of prosperity."
The Empress Dowager, overwhelmed with emotion, grasped his hands, her eyes welling with tears.
"I hope I'm not too late," he said, his voice laced with feigned sincerity. "I came as soon as I could, so I wouldn't miss your birthday."
The Empress Dowager beamed, her joy evident. "You arrived just in time, my boy."
The court watched in admiration. Only Song Jae knew the truth.
This man had been back since two or three weeks ago.
Yet here he was, lying effortlessly, pretending he had returned solely for his grandmother's birthday.
Such a liar.
After presenting his gift—an exquisite Buddha prayer bead from a famed temple—Chul Kwan returned to his seat.
The other royal grandchildren followed, offering their tributes one by one. The second prince gifted an esteemed Edward painting, while the third princess presented a rare embroidered silk.
The banquet proceeded with grandeur. Musicians played enchanting melodies, and dancers moved like flowing water, their silken sleeves trailing through the air.
Yet amid the splendor, Song Jae slipped away.
The hall had grown stifling, the weight of too many watchful eyes pressing down on her. She needed air.
Stepping outside, she inhaled deeply, letting the cool night breeze caress her face. The palace gardens stretched before her, illuminated by lanterns that swayed in the wind.
For a moment, she simply walked. Then she realized something. The music had faded into the distance.
She had wandered too far.
Frowning, she turned back—but the path seemed unfamiliar. The once unfamiliar corridors of the palace now felt like an endless maze.
A chill ran down her spine.
Where were the palace maids? The eunuchs She quickened her pace, searching for someone—anyone.
Then—
A hand shot out from the shadows.
Before she could scream, it clamped over her mouth, silencing her.
Her breath hitched.
The scent of leather and sandalwood filled her senses. A firm arm coiled around her waist, pulling her against a solid chest.
A voice, deep and unmistakably familiar, whispered against her ear.
"Did you really think you could avoid me forever?"