No sooner had De Lan entered the chambers of his mother, the Queen, than he spoke with a heart still racing from his recent encounter:
Your Majesty, I have a request I wish to ask of you. Ask for whatever you desire, Your Royal Highness
The Queen replied to her belove prince, whose requests were never denied, noticing the radiant glow upon his face.
I want Mi Fa, the daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs, to succeed in the marriage trials. She is the woman I have been searching for.
The Queen tightened her grip on her words, masking her shock:
And from where do you know her?
He replied impulsively:
I encountered her just a moment ago at the palace gate.
Queen Lee Yan wore a cryptic smile that concealed an unyielding resolve for her heart had not forgotten the covenant of the two sisters, and it would accept none other than Jo Ri as her daughter-in-law. She replied with a cunning calm:
I shall do my utmost for 'Mi Fa', my son.
But deep within her, the war had been declared, and the decision was already carved in stone.
The trials began, and Jo Ri was the "shocking surprise." She intentionally made mistakes, hesitated in her answers, and appeared to everyone as the worst of the contestants. She prayed for disqualification so she could return to her swing and her freedom, but shock slapped her every time her name was announced as a "winner". She felt a "hidden hand" lifting her up whenever she tried to fall.
Then came the decisive test:
Each girl must stitch and embroider a kerchief to be presented as a gift to the Crown Prince.
Jo Ri decided this was her final chance to fail, she left her kerchief a pale, plain white without a single stitch, without a soul.
But when the time came to announce the results, a surprise echoed that she never expected:
The Crown Prince has chosen the kerchief of Lady Jo Ri!
Jo Ri was consumed by a whirlwind of rage and confusion how could he have chosen a blank piece of cloth? But soon, she learned of the Queen's cunning. The Queen had replaced that empty fabric with an old kerchief; one that Jo Ri had embroidered with exquisite skill and love for her aunt's birthday years ago, which her mother had secretly sent to the palace.
De Lan had selected that specific kerchief from among dozens, not because he knew its owner, but because his soul was drawn to those stitches that carried the warmth of Jo Ri's true heart. He remained utterly unaware that the owner of the kerchief was the very same girl he had once wished would vanish from his life forever.
The incident of the kerchief was not the final straw. In the subsequent test of knowledge, Jo Ri intentionally left her answer sheet stark white, devoid of a single letter, to prove to everyone that she was "unfit" for the crown. Yet, as if magic enveloped her file, the herald's voice rang out once more:
Lady Jo Ri, you have passed the examination with brilliant success!
At that moment, Jo Ri knew with certainty that her aunt, the Queen, would not let her depart so easily, and that all her attempts at academic failure would, by some royal alchemy, be transformed into "regal" triumphs. She seethed with rage she refused to be a mere puppet in the game of the ancient covenant.
Jo Ri decided to strike her final blow: "Absence." She believed that if she failed to attend the final trial, they would be legally bound to disqualify her. However, the Queen's cunning surpassed all her expectations. Instead of dismissing her, the Palace announced a "postponement" of the exam due to emergency circumstances an event unprecedented in the kingdom's history solely to wait for her arrival!
Jo Ri realized she was besieged by an army of royal kindness and tender conspiracies. Finding no other way out, she saw no choice but to flee physically. She slipped out of her chambers and hid in the depths of the vast palace gardens, searching for a remote corner beyond the reach of the servants' eyes or the Queen's guards. She only wanted to breathe, to return to that child who used to run away from De Lan in the past unaware that the place she chose for her sanctuary was the very same spot the Prince frequented whenever he grew weary of palace protocols.
Jo Ri crossed the wooden bridge with trepidation, as if each step were a journey through time, pulling her years into the past. Here, on this small island in the heart of the lake, she used to leave the world's clamor behind. She saw the patch of grass where she once folded paper into planes that never flew for long, and a bitter smile touched her lips.
She moved toward the "Giant Tree," the majestic entity that served as the garden's beating heart. Her hand grazed its rough bark until she found what she was searching for: the remnants of an old carving her name, etched years ago by her small hands with the help of De Lan. A tremor ran through her fingers as she traced the worn edges of the letters.
Standing beneath its lush canopy, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of freedom that had been lost amidst palace protocols. But in moment of stillness, the silence was shattered by a thundering, resonant voice one her soul recognized before her ears did. A voice that robbed her of the very air in her lungs as it uttered:
Jo Ri?!
She recognized him instantly. She turned away, hoping to shield herself, as the blood froze in her veins. Her heart was a chaotic mix of joy and dread could it be him? Her innocent childhood companion, at last? But her rosy illusions vanished the moment she realized his shout was no warm greeting, but a blade of accusation.
What are you doing here?
De Lan continued, his voice dripping with contempt as he watched her motionless back.
His question struck her like a thunderbolt. He had never spoken to her this way. She, who believed he would leap with joy at the sight of her, now stood frozen like a marble statue. She dared not turn around, fearing that the sharp edge of "Prince De Lan" would shatter the image of the old De Lan she had carefully preserved in her memory.
De Lan approached with heavy strides that echoed across the wooden bridge. He lowered his voice, making it sharper and unnervingly calm a tone laced with bitter irony:
Are you here for the bride trials? Did you truly believe you could marry me simply by showing up? Do you think the palace gates swing open for you quite so easily?"
He spoke to her as if she were a greedy interloper. She looked at him, unable to believe what her ears were hearing. She asked herself in anguish, "But why this contempt with which he treats me?" She was unaware that the youth standing before her was the same one who had once carried her on his broken back despite his pains, and that he was the only person who, at this moment, wished she were at the farthest point from the "Lion's Den."
His words pierced her heart like poisoned arrows, and there was no longer a place for silence. She tried to escape the circle in which he had trapped her, no longer able to endure hearing words that wounded her further, but he gripped her hand firmly and said:
You haven't answered me!
Jo Ri turned to him, a volcano of rage erupting in her eyes. She did not know where her words came from whether from her shocked mind or her wounded heart as she screamed in his face with a searing honesty:
I do not want to marry you! Do you hear me? I am not here by my own will!
She paused, and seeing his shock at her words, she continued with bitterness:
But it is they who make me pass every test against my will!
De Lan did not move instead, a cold, mocking smile formed on his face. He pointed a finger toward her head and said in a tone dripping with arrogance:
They make you pass? Truly? And who would believe that? You are a fool, Jo Ri, and everyone knows you have no wit. How could a fool like you succeed if not for manipulation?
She recoiled at his words, feeling an insult unlike any she had ever tasted. She raised her finger in his face, speaking with a tone of defiance that no one in the palace had ever dared to use with him:
I have no wit? Look at me closely, you spoiled prince, I never even tried to succeed! I was failing every time on purpose just to be free from your shackle so that I wouldn't have to marry you!
A heavy silence fell before De Lan replied in a calm voice imbued with a lethal vanity:
As if I would believe there is a girl on this earth who does not dream of marrying me. Enough with the acting.
At that moment, Jo Ri lost all reason. She lunged toward him and gripped the collar of his royal robes with force, indifferent to the fact that he was the Crown Prince or that the penalty for her actions could be death. Standing face-to-face with his shocked eyes, she said with a trembling rage:
That girl is me! I loathe you, and I wish with all my heart that we had never been kin!
Jo Ri caught his stunned gaze, fixed upon her hand as it desecrated his royal attire, and she suddenly regained her senses. She released his collar violently and turned to run away from him, swallowing her sob and fighting back the tears that were about to fall terrified that he might see her weakness after all that pride.
De Lan remained rooted to the spot as if struck by lightning, his hand still suspended in mid-air, grasping for the phantom remains of the collar Jo Ri had so violently released. A sudden chill swept through the clearing; it was as if, by departing, she had dragged away something he could not yet name.
He lowered his arm slowly as a faint question echoed in his mind:
"Was I too harsh on her?" But he quickly shook his head with conviction, brushing away the dust of pity. The ugly images of the past rushed back to him he remembered that unruly child who never granted him a moment's peace, and how she used to turn his days at the palace into a living hell of pranks and turmoil.
Yet, despite every effort to summon his old resentment, the image of her face now rose vividly in his imagination. Her features were matured, and her eyes, which had blazed with such fury, seemed to possess a charm he had never encountered before. He stroked his chin in deep thought, muttering to himself in a voice barely audible:
You have truly matured, Jo Ri, You have become stunning, that much is undeniable. But..
He closed his eyes, conjuring the marble-like image of Mi Fa, and added with a lingering pride:
But you are still a far cry from the level of the one who has stolen my heart.