The dancer, whose name had been quietly discussed by the two princes, held her breath in anticipation. Though she smiled demurely, her true ambition was never to become the Crown Prince's concubine. Her sights were set on the Second or Third Prince instead.
Rumors about the Crown Prince's cold nature made her uneasy—but still, becoming his concubine was far better than being attached to the lesser princes.
"I believe Third Brother has forgotten," Crown Prince Chul Kwan said coolly, "I do not like such women lingering around me."
"Seja Jeoha (Your Royal Highness), how can you say that?" the Second Prince, Chul Doh, replied with a forced chuckle. "Royal Father has been worried about this for a while. I already have a princess and a concubine. Even our younger brother has someone in the back residence."
"Exactly," Third Prince Chul Hanuel added, his smile seemingly warm. "It isn't proper for Seja Jeoha to remain without a consort."
In the corner of the hall, Song Jae listened in silence, her expression unreadable. To an outsider, the brothers might appear concerned for the Crown Prince's future. But to her, it was all an act—she knew they were likely pushing their own allies' daughters forward, trying to plant a spy within the Crown Prince's quarters.
Her gaze settled on Chul Hanuel. His smile made her skin crawl.
He looked the kindest among the three, but she knew the truth. He was the most ruthless. Song Jae clenched her fists under her sleeves. She wanted to wipe that fake grin off his face.
She hadn't forgotten the dream.
In the original novel, Chul Hanuel had conspired with the female lead—who was already the Crown Prince's wife at the time—to lure the Crown Prince into a quiet, desolate place. Assassins had been waiting, all arranged by Chul Hanuel himself.
Even though Chul Kwan had willingly given up the throne to his younger brother, Chul Hanuel still saw him as a threat. His fear and insecurity drove him to murder, unwilling to risk even a shadow of competition.
And what disgusted Song Jae the most… was that he'd used the woman he loved to do it.
She hated that kind of man. In her past life, she'd suffered because of one.
What Song Jae had yet to realize, though, was that the plot she remembered… was already beginning to shift.
And the story was no longer the same.
"Second and Third Younger Brothers don't need to worry about my affairs," said Crown Prince Chul Kwan, his tone calm but distant. "Perhaps I will meet someone I like after I return from the border."
The hall grew still for a moment.
The King, who had been silently observing the conversation, felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped the Crown Prince would accept one of the noble daughters presented tonight. Although he was fond of the Second Prince and favored Consort Hwa, the royal family had few princes. Each one was precious to him.
After a brief silence, the King nodded solemnly.
"Then I will wait," he said, "for the Crown Prince to return from the border with the woman he chooses to marry."
All eyes turned back to the Crown Prince.
"Yes, Royal Father," Chul Kwan replied respectfully. "This son will not disappoint you."
As the hour neared midnight, the rhythm of the banquet began to shift. The court musicians played the final strains of a jeongak piece—soft, slow, and reverent. Conversations faded into whispers. All eyes turned toward the high dais, where the King and Queen Dowage sat in serene majesty.
With deliberate grace, the King rose.
A court herald stepped forward, his voice ringing out like a temple bell:
"His Majesty offers a final blessing as we pass from the old year into the new."
Everyone stood and bowed deeply in unison.
The King lifted a golden cup of sul. His voice carried gently but firmly through the hall.
"May the coming year bring harmony to the court, health to our people, and wisdom to guide the kingdom. Let the old year depart in peace."
A murmur of reverent agreement passed among the guests.
Then came the sound of the palace bell—twelve slow, resonant gongs echoing from beyond the palace walls, marking the arrival of the Lunar New Year.
In the hush that followed, the final court dance began.
Five dancers in flowing white and blue silk moved across the polished floor like clouds drifting in moonlight. Their sleeves fluttered like phoenix wings, their every step a prayer to the new year.
When the dance ended, The queen Dowager gently took the King's arm, and the royal family began to withdraw. One by one, nobles and officials fell to their knees in a final bow, their heads lowered until the royal procession vanished beyond the painted doors.
Song Jae could barely keep her back straight.
Her legs had gone numb, her head heavy from holding perfect posture for more than three hours.
She leaned toward Second Madam Jin and whispered, "Madam, I'll go ahead to the carriage."
Without waiting for a reply, she rose quietly, slipped away from the main hall, and exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.
She couldn't wait to return home—to take off the heavy hanbok and jewelry, sink into her bed, and forget all the scheming faces behind her.
As Song Jae stepped away from the banquet hall, her gaze lingered briefly on Second Madam Jin, still seated with a composed smile.
She hadn't forgotten.
This was the woman responsible for the original host's mother's death. But she wasn't the original Song Jae—and she had her own burdens to carry now. As long as the Second Madam didn't make any moves against her, Song Jae had no interest in starting a feud.
She adjusted her silk robes and continued walking toward the carriages, with her two maidservants, Song Min and Song Sook, following closely behind.
"Mistress," Song Min murmured, " Eldest Young Master hasn't returned yet. He's likely still inside speaking with other generals. Should we wait in the carriage?"
Song Jae gave a tired nod. "Alright, let's wait."
Just as she reached for the carriage door, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around her from behind, a gloved hand clamping over her mouth.
She was pulled quickly and silently toward the shadowed side of the carriage, hidden from the guests still lingering outside the banquet hall.
Song Min and Song Sook gasped in alarm, but before they could scream, a tall figure stepped in front of them—Hwang, the Crown Prince's personal guard.
"Do you want to ruin your mistress's reputation?" he said sharply. "Stay quiet. His Highness only wishes to speak with her privately. He'll release her shortly."
Song Sook's eyes blazed. "Speak privately? Does the Crown Prince make it a habit to abduct noble ladies without permission?"
"I suggest you hold your tongue," Hwang replied, his tone like steel. "No harm will come to her."
While the two argued, Song Jae struggled in the shadows—until she caught sight of her captor's face.
Her blood boiled. "You?!" she hissed, as he removed his hand.
It was Crown Prince Chul Kwan.
Her eyes narrowed with fury. "What do you think you're doing, Your Highness? Is this how the heir to the throne behaves? Grabbing people like a common thug?"
He didn't flinch. His gaze remained fixed on her, calm—but unreadable.