Chapter 5. A Secret Only Two People Know
Wonsoye had been an excellent forger during her days as an assassin. Because of that, she could also distinguish forged handwriting from genuine ones.
Different.
They were carefully crafted, but the writing style was crude. The stroke endings also had subtle inconsistencies.
In genuine writing, the brush was not lifted at the end of each stroke. However, in these letters, the forger had intentionally lifted the brush slightly to imitate the style.
Still, the imitation was so precise that even Wonsoye—if she had been the original owner of this body—would likely have believed the letters were real.
She might have been fooled too.
Wonsoye turned her gaze to Eunryeong.
Eunryeong would likely know who sent these letters.
“Eunryeong.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Eunryeong stepped forward respectfully.
“Who is Seomun?”
“….”
Eunryeong looked at Wonsoye with deep concern. It was clear she knew the relationship between them. Jinseongyeo standing nearby also seemed to make her uneasy.
“It’s fine. Tell me in detail. My memory is a bit… unstable.”
“Seomun Gongja….”
Eunryeong hesitated, unable to continue.
Wonsoye did not rush her and waited quietly.
After a moment, Eunryeong spoke, but not about his identity first.
“…He is absolutely not someone who would write such letters.”
Her tone was firm.
At that, Jinseongyeo bit his lip slightly.
He quickly regained composure, but it did not escape Wonsoye’s eyes.
As expected—this involved Yeongbi and Jinseongyeo.
Wonsoye asked again.
“Why do you think so?”
Eunryeong steadied her breath and spoke carefully.
“Before that… may I ask something, Your Highness?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you truly remember nothing about Seomun Gongja?”
A direct question that struck the core.
Wonsoye was not truly missing memory—she simply had no memory of him at all. So she had no way of knowing who he was.
She nodded slightly.
Eunryeong continued.
“He is the eldest grandson of Grand Scholar Seojeongheon, who served four generations of emperors. His family has produced scholars for generations, and Seomun Gongja is also highly learned and gifted in literature.”
“And he is… Your Highness’s teacher.”
“My teacher?”
“Yes. Though he is young, his understanding of scholarship is profound. The Great General personally appointed him as your instructor.”
Hearing this, Wonsoye’s suspicion turned into certainty.
A man acknowledged by the Great General, who commanded hundreds of thousands of troops.
There was no way such a man would write something so petty. Someone had clearly forged these letters to harm her.
“…Actually.”
Eunryeong hesitated again.
Wonsoye allowed her to continue.
“Go on.”
“I once reported to Your Highness that the contents of the letters seemed strange and suggested we verify them.”
So she had already suspected it.
Jinseongyeo’s expression tightened briefly before smoothing again.
Wonsoye nodded inwardly.
Eunryeong had been suspicious from the beginning.
She listened as Eunryeong continued.
“At that time… perhaps because Your Highness was deeply shocked, my words were not taken into consideration.”
And after that, the original Wonsoye had likely taken her own life.
Wonsoye asked quietly.
“Did I… have deep feelings for Seomun?”
Eunryeong answered carefully.
“You both cared for each other deeply. Had it not been for the Emperor’s decree appointing you as Crown Princess… you would likely have become husband and wife.”
So that was it.
A teacher she deeply trusted, someone she believed she had lost forever—if she thought he had died, it would explain why she chose such an extreme end.
As she processed this, Wonsoye’s curiosity shifted.
Who had used such a cruel deception?
She already had a suspicion.
The imperial palace was indeed a dangerous place.
Wonsoye’s gaze sharpened slightly.
Then she looked at Jinseongyeo again.
Even now, he pretended nothing was wrong.
“Seongyeo.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Now that we’ve confirmed what’s inside the box, I cannot give it to you. There is no poison inside. Would you like to check it yourself?”
“….”
Jinseongyeo remained silent.
At that moment, a eunuch rushed in.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”
Wonsoye stood and looked ahead.
From a distance, Jugun appeared—tall and imposing—walking toward them, followed by attendants.
Jinseongyeo panicked and quickly tried to gather the scattered letters, but Wonsoye stopped him.
“Leave it.”
“…Yes?”
“Leave it as it is.”
Reluctantly, Jinseongyeo stepped back.
Jugun arrived and sat down.
His eyes briefly swept over the scattered letters, then shifted away as if uninterested.
Wonsoye spoke first.
“Your Highness, do you recognize these letters?”
Jugun did not respond.
After dismissing the attendants, Wonsoye asked again.
“Let me ask you something.”
“Ask.”
“Do you know a man named Seomun?”
Jugun raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Why would I care about some scholar?”
His tone was cold and dismissive.
Wonsoye narrowed her eyes.
“How did you know he was a scholar?”
Jugun’s expression froze.
Wonsoye continued calmly.
“So you do know something.”
“….”
She held up a letter.
“I almost lost my life because of a forged letter.”
Jugun finally met her gaze.
“You know who forged it.”
“Yes.”
“Evidence?”
“There will be evidence with the forger.”
Jugun clicked his tongue lightly.
“So there is no evidence.”
Wonsoye smiled gently.
“You will find it for me.”
Jugun looked annoyed.
“And why should I?”
Wonsoye leaned slightly forward.
“Because this involves the dignity of the imperial family.”
At that, Jugun finally smiled faintly.
“Fine.”
Then his tone shifted.
“From now on, this stays between just the two of us.”
A shared secret.
Wonsoye’s expression hardened slightly.
Jugun’s eyes remained calm, unreadable.
And so—
the secret between them was born.
