Chapter 16
“My lady, my laaady! It’s out! It’s here!”
Maldong waved his hands as he ran across the courtyard. Seeing him, Hari’s face brightened like a full moon.
Sitting leisurely in a small pavilion and eating yakgwa, Hari quickly set down what she was holding. It had to be what she had been anxiously waiting for.
“My lady, haah—this, here it is.”
Maldong held out the letter in his hand.
“The clerk from the Office of Punishments came by.”
Hari barely listened and quickly tore open the envelope.
It was the written verdict—the officially certified document of the judgment—summoning her to appear at the Hanyang office.
Hari’s grip tightened around the letter.
For a noble family, a divorce required final approval from the King. Magistrate Jo Galji had said it would take at least over a month.
Hari knew very well how busy the King was. Urgent matters must be piled up like mountains, so she had prepared herself for a long wait.
But the verdict arrived in just four days.
It was so fast that “already” felt like the right word.
‘Is this a fake Joseon where the King has nothing to do?’
That couldn’t be true, but what did it matter?
‘It’s only a problem if it’s delayed.’
Faster was better.
Of course, the result had to be good too—but Hari was confident.
This wasn’t just a simple divorce case. It involved murder tied to fraud—a heinous crime.
Hari quickly got to her feet.
“Maldong, bring Nahee.”
Nahee had come to stay at Hari’s house on the day of the trial.
Since the magistrate had declared the marriage invalid, she couldn’t return to the Choi household, and her natal family didn’t welcome her either.
In truth, “not welcoming” was an understatement.
Nahee’s father was no better than Hari’s own father had been.
Her family hadn’t even shown up at the trial, nor had they sent a single message while she stayed at Hari’s house. It was fair to say they had abandoned her.
‘From what Yang Heoyeong said, they even took money for marrying her off. How is that any different from selling their daughter?’
Cursing Nahee’s father inwardly, Hari looked up at the sky.
‘This has to go well.’
Though confident in the outcome, the fact that this was Joseon made her instinctively pray.
“O-open it.”
In front of the Hanyang office, Nahee handed the verdict document she had received from the magistrate to Hari.
Her voice trembled faintly.
“Why don’t you open it yourself?”
After the case, Nahee and Hari had become friends.
They were the same age, and since titles like “madam” or “young lady” felt awkward, they had decided to call each other by name.
“I’m too nervous to look. What if… what if His Majesty didn’t approve it…?”
Then her life would become a path of thorns—no, a living hell.
Nahee’s face darkened instantly as she slumped her shoulders.
The monstrous expressions of Choi Eum-eup and Choi Giman, glaring at her on the day of the trial, flashed through her mind.
“That won’t happen.”
Hari snatched the document and unfolded it.
Her eyes darted quickly across the text, reading every word from the case summary without missing a single line. When her gaze reached the end, it stopped.
Her body trembled.
“W-what is it? Tell me quickly.”
Nahee, eyes tightly shut, grabbed Hari’s jeogori and shook her.
After spending four years holding her breath within walls, waiting even a few seconds now felt twice as unbearable.
“Hey! Why do you always drag things ou—”
“It’s done.”
“What? Not done?”
Hari’s voice was so flat and quiet that Nahee misunderstood despite hearing her correctly.
“I said it’s done. Open your eyes—and take out your hairpin.”
Hari smirked and placed the verdict document back into Nahee’s hands.
“His Majesty sided with me?”
“Read it yourself.”
Nahee’s heart pounded.
Did this really mean she wouldn’t have to return to the Choi household?
No more being called “the woman who killed her husband,” “ill-fated,” or “ungrateful”?
She stared again and again at the official seal stamped boldly on the document.
“It’s real… it’s really stamped here.”
Nahee gently brushed her hand over the seal.
“Keep it safe. If you lose that, it’ll be a big problem.”
In disputes involving servants, there were often cases where verdict documents were stolen or hidden so people could refuse to accept the outcome.
With Choi Giman arrested for murder, the Choi household would be too chaotic to worry about Nahee—but it was better to be cautious.
Nahee wiped her tears with the back of her hand and carefully secured the document.
“I will. But how do I get the compensation? Do you think they’ll hand it over willingly?”
“Of course not. That’s why I’m going to ask someone to collect it.”
“Who?”
Hari grinned and thought of a certain man.
In Pungui-bang, Un carefully wiped a colored glass lamp imported from Qing.
His touch was gentle, as if it might fly away with a breath or shatter in his grasp. There was care in every movement.
In the quiet, tending to beautiful things was Un’s small pleasure.
It was like cleansing both body and mind after dealing with Qing merchants through the night.
He treasured this time dearly.
But a disturbance arrived. Bang—the sliding door burst open as Chilbok entered energetically.
“Is it true that you asked His Majesty to approve Madam Kim’s annulment of marriage?”
“Where did you hear that?”
Even though Chilbok had returned to Joseon with Un from Shenyang and stayed at his private residence, he somehow knew everything happening in the palace.
His information network was useful—but knowing his every move was a bit uncomfortable.
Not that it caused problems—but it did invite endless nagging.
And how long would the lecture be this time?
“They say His Majesty promised to grant you anything! Do you know what a huge opportunity that is? And you used it just for a marriage annulment case?!”
“You’re wrong. I didn’t ask for that.”
“What? Then what did you ask for?”
Chilbok, who had been worked up, tilted his head.
“I only asked for it to be reviewed quickly. I didn’t request anything that would influence the result. That would be crossing a line. Even I have my limits.”
“My lord!”
Chilbok shouted.
Un, who had been smiling casually, straightened his expression.
“Chilbok.”
At the low voice, Chilbok immediately fell silent and bowed his head.
Having shared hardships since childhood, Un treated Chilbok informally.
And because he knew Chilbok spoke out of concern, he tolerated a certain amount of nagging.
Even so, there were lines that could not be crossed.
At such times, Un cast aside his easygoing mask and revealed his true self.
As a lord, his composed and dignified presence inspired respect, admiration, and obedience.
“My lord, I overstepped. However… to use such a priceless opportunity granted by His Majesty for something so personal…”
“Chilbok, it was not personal. It concerned a woman’s life and a man’s unjust death. What could be more important than that?”
Chilbok puffed his cheeks.
He understood Un’s words logically, but his heart couldn’t accept them.
If Un was right, it would have been resolved eventually anyway.
Was there really a need to ask the King to speed it up?
‘He could’ve at least asked His Majesty for financial support.’
Rescuing captives taken to Qing required a great deal of money.
Un’s personal wealth was not limitless, so there were constraints. That was why he expanded the work of Pungui-bang. Exhaustion taking its toll on his body was inevitable.
Perhaps because of that, he had even been injured fighting a Qing warrior a few days ago.
‘He should take better care of himself.’
Chilbok felt frustrated that Un spoke only of righteousness and greater causes, without considering his own wellbeing.
“I know how you feel.”
Only in words.
Chilbok puffed his cheeks again, unable to hide his disappointment.
Just as it seemed another round of complaints was about to begin, footsteps sounded outside.
“Are you inside?”
Before Chilbok could stop him, Un swiftly crossed the room and opened the door.
“I am.”
With a smile blooming across his face, as if someone he had been waiting for a long time had arrived.
Watching this from outside, Siyeong narrowed her eyes.
