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It wasn’t common for an army general to be in charge of assessing potential consorts. That was a job for the Queen Mother, matchmakers, or advisors. Then again, when their King marries for the sake of colonizing territories and amassing power, perhaps it was in the interest of more war-strategic minds to help choose wisely.
Jeon Wonwoo despises the job nonetheless, especially when he starts caring more than he should.
He knows what the king is like, how he treats his wives, consorts, and concubines, what people have to go through under his rule.
So as he trails behind the youngest son of a noble family from a port city the king has vested interest in, Wonwoo decides the cycle needs to end.
The problem with any ruling party is that, more often than not, there's someone in the shadows waiting to bring them down.
Although he was one of the youngest officers in the palace, Wonwoo had seen and heard enough plans for assassinations, treasons, and revolutions to last him a thousand lifetimes.
Not once did he think that he'd be an instigator of such plans. Perhaps he's more impressionable than he thought, but images of timid smiles and innocent gazes coupled with flashes of bruised cheeks and split lips bury that idea into the ground.
Jeon Wonwoo may be a general of the Joseon royal guard, but his loyalty lies with the people and not the crown.
Treason is not something that takes place in one fell swoop. It was a series of minute actions that lead to the ultimate betrayal.
It was in keeping the newest of the royal consorts company for longer than what was needed. In part to delay his classes with the ministers, which meant preventing him from being deemed presentable to the king. But mostly it was so Wonwoo can keep an eye on him, that he can make sure that nothing tarnishes his skin.
It was in speaking to the master of whispers, unravelling secrets that will echo against walls the loudest.
It was in watching silently as those whispers reached the ears of the people who were more than ready to take action.
It was in accepting a vial from the apothecary and handing it to a concubine who was willing to take the fall.
Wonwoo pauses to look at her when she keeps her grasp on his arm.
"Is he worth it?"
"To me, he is."
"Take care of him, general."
"We'll do our best to keep you out of harm's way."
The somber gaze she gives him will forever haunt Wonwoo, deep pools of sadness that only show how far she had drowned.
"I no longer need protection. The ministers are welcome to pin this on me. When he has ceased to exist, that's the only justice I need."
If there is one way to describe Wen Junhui, innocent is the most fitting. It’s a difficult word to associate with him if a person just looks at his face, though.
Haunting eyes, a pointed nose, a sharp jaw, and long hair combined with a tall stature make him look ethereal beyond words. A stark contrast to his behavior of picking flowers around the estate’s gardens, carrying a bag of torn fish for the stray cats that sneak past the palace walls, dancing in circles rather than walking, and many other idiosyncrasies that make Junhui appear more childish than he really is.
Wonwoo doesn’t like the idea of that innocence being stolen, of smooth skin being bruised, of eyes usually filled with mischief becoming an abyss of sadness.
So he swore to put a stop to the madness.
The night before Wen Junhui's official introduction to the royal court, the king dies by way of poison. The murder is put on the head of his majesty's favorite concubine. Although they knew of probable cause as to why she did it, the men in court made her pay for her actions with her life anyway.
"What happens now?"
"It depends on who the ministers decide to give the crown to, if at all."
"Can't you take me home?"
"I can petition for you to do so."
"Can you come with me and stay?"
Jeon Wonwoo may be a general of the Joseon royal guard, but his loyalty lies with the people and not the crown. And his heart sings praises for no king, but for one Wen Junhui.