“They say old people only act this out of character when they are standing at death’s door...” Gi-Reu said, watching the Inspector General’s retreating figure vanish past the garden gate. He turned toward Mi-Reu, his face contorted into a dramatic expression of mock tragedy, complete with a few fake tears wiped from his eyes. “He isn’t dying, is he?”
Mi-Reu let out a long, weary sigh. “You are so dramatic...” She shook her head, settling back into her seat. “He doesn't look ill. He simply felt a crushing weight of guilt for offending royalty. It’s clear now that he is deeply entrenched in his beliefs about nobility and the sacred order of things. He thinks his personal trauma made him disrespectful.”
“Hmm... Your Highnesses,” the eunuch who had delivered the initial message spoke up, his voice hesitant. He remained standing by the door, fidgeting with the silk of his sleeves. “I fear I might be overstepping my bounds, but I have grown rather curious about a certain matter...”
Mi-Reu and Gi-Reu turned toward him in perfect, haunting twin’s synchronization, both tilting their heads in identical confusion. “What is it?” Mi-Reu asked, while Gi-Reu added with a shrug, “Sure, ask away. We’re in a listening mood.”
“Why is it that you refer to the Royal Court ministers and the Inspector Generals only by their titles?” the eunuch finally asked, his head bowed low in respect. “We have three separate Inspector Generals serving in the Royal Court at this very moment. Does it not cause immense confusion to refer to them without adding their clan names or given names?”
Gi-Reu’s face instantly flushed a deep, embarrassed crimson. He looked away, suddenly finding the wood grain of the floorboards fascinating. Mi-Reu just sighed at his reaction, rubbing her temples.
She looked at the eunuch and gave a blunt, honest answer. “That is because we simply do not know their names. When we see them in the halls, we just look at the wooden plaques they wear. Since their positions are carved right there for everyone to see, that is how we tell who is who.”
“Huh...?” The eunuch was visibly taken aback, his mouth hanging open slightly at the revelation. To a palace official, the lineage and names of the nobility were the very foundation of society.
Gi-Reu, still smarting from the embarrassment of being "caught," finally piped up in his own defense. “We... we are only just now learning the intricate workings of the Royal Court! How are we supposed to have memorized the names of every single noble in Haebang already?!”
“He’s right,” Mi-Reu added, trying to regain some dignity. “For instance, we only just learned that this particular Inspector General who keeps opposing us belongs to the Han clan, and that's only because he mentioned his father in that story.”
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The eunuch bowed his head in a panicked apology. “I... I had no idea Your Highnesses were unaware of Inspector General Han’s name, I should have provided a roster-”
“Stop,” Mi-Reu said, raising a hand to halt him mid-bow. “It’s alright. We only have the energy for one dramatic apology today, and Inspector General Han already filled that quota. Gi-Reu, let’s get moving. We were supposed to meet with Lady Shin to discuss the next steps of our findings.”
With a final nod to the bewildered eunuch, the two twins swept out of the wing, their minds already shifting back to the topic at hand.
“It is rather gloomy today,” Lady Shin commented, her gaze drifting toward the heavy, leaden sky as she navigated the stone paths of the palace courtyard. She was heading toward the secluded garden pavilion where she had agreed to meet the twins.
“It does seem rather unsightly to have such thick clouds at midday,” her head lady-in-waiting added, walking a respectful pace behind her.
A short distance ahead, a group of ladies-in-waiting dressed in luxurious silks came into view. At their center was Queen Myeong-Hwa, her usual elegant and dignified aura acting as a sharp contrast to the oppressive, gray atmosphere of the afternoon.
“Oh, it is Her Majesty,” Lady Shin noted with a small smile. What a delight to see her; her presence might just brighten this dreary day. But as she moved to offer a greeting, she stopped in her tracks.
Queen Myeong-Hwa and her entourage had halted abruptly. The Queen’s face, which usually held the warmth of a spring morning, shifted into an expression that mirrored the sky above. It was a strained, hollow smile that couldn't quite mask the pained sadness flickering behind her eyes.
Lady Shin turned her gaze to see who had caused such a sudden change in the Queen’s demeanor. Approaching from the opposite direction was King Jin-Ho, flanked by a phalanx of eunuchs and royal guards.
His Majesty? Lady Shin thought, her brow furrowing. She observed the King’s face and saw a mirrored reflection of the Queen’s distress: a weary, pained smile that didn't reach his eyes. Normally, the Queen would greet him with warmth and a beautiful smile, yet today, a heavy, sober silence hung between them as they crossed paths without a single word.
Once King Jin-Ho had passed, Queen Myeong-Hwa remained standing still for several long moments. Her expression slowly hardened into one of cold, stern resolve before she swept away toward the inner palace.
“I suppose Mother’s mood will be quite sour today,” a familiar, tired voice remarked from behind Lady Shin.
Lady Shin jumped slightly and turned to find Princess Seo-Yeon standing there, having approached unnoticed during the awkward encounter.
“Your Highness,” Lady Shin greeted her with a respectful half-bow. Princess Seo-Yeon returned it with a weary nod and a heavy sigh. “I... I am a bit confused, Your Highness. Why would Her Majesty be in such a state? Doesn’t meeting His Majesty usually brighten her day?”
“Ah... that depends entirely on which direction Father was coming from,” Princess Seo-Yeon replied, leaning against a stone pillar and rubbing the back of her neck with an exhausted groan. “He was coming directly from Concubine Kkot-Nim’s wing.”
