Chapter 3

"Please reconsider your majesty."

 On the left of the royal palace, the officials knelt and made a show of utmost urgency and concern for the Country.

 "Please reconsider your majesty." They said again.

 The slight twitch in Edward's jaw was unnoticeable.

 "My Dear officials, would you not rise, if I do not make Royal Wife silver as Queen today?"

 The Finance Minister, Royal fifth wife silver's father ( she was his beloved daughter and so finance minister kept her name silver, after the Country), looked up and implored, "your Majesty, the Queen's position has been empty for too long. Now that Royal wife Silver is pregnant with child, she should be crowned Queen and officially handle the palace's internal affairs." Instead of the First Royal wife.

 The King seems to ponder the Minister's words. His Majesty has asked for an other's opinion. He showed it to an official on the other side of the royal court.

 "What is your opinion, Minister smith, (Royal first wife Irish father)?"

 Minister Smith, the father of Irish, said, "I have no opinion. Your word is the law, my King."

 A wily old fox.

 A wise decision, nonetheless. Minister Smith is right. The young King's word is the law. Today, the Minister silver family had crossed a line. They had touched the things the King ever cared for, and they will surely pay for it.

 The young King is not done yet. "Well then, who is fit to be Queen? The First Royal wife, perhaps? She had done a great job managing the internal affairs."

 A murmur broke out amongst the officials. Is the King planning to crown smith Irish as Queen?

 Minister smith bowed his head, eyes on his embroidered shoes, seemingly unbothered that other officials spoke of his child. Underneath were socks that the Irish had designed as a child. It was a random drawing of shapes and lines and mismatching colours, and the picture for the left was different from the right hose.

 Minister Smith had ordered the seamstress to make a dozen pairs, and he wears them every day since then. Irish, his lovely child.

 The King asked, "anyone?"

 A young boy who scored third in the past year's imperial examinations stepped up from the right. , "the First Royal wife is born in the smith family, officials who had served the Country with loyalty since the start of time. She is surely qualified to be Queen."

 Minister smith closed his eyes. The scholar's praise is but a stick, prodding Irish to her end. Minister smith's heart aches for his child. First, they took away her freedom, and now, they are coming for her life.

 The King nodded, "Scholar Park, your words do carry some truth."

 The King is adamant today. He asked, "Minister smith?"

 Minister smith opened his eyes, still looking at his shoes instead of the King, an image of a respectful official. But he would claw at anyone who dares to even think about harming his precious child. He would end that young scholar's career once he found out who is behind him. As for the King...

 He pulled out of his thoughts and said, "My apologies, my King, for I have failed."

 The King let out an intrigued, "oh?"

 Minister Smith said, "my child is unfortunately not very bright, and I could not make her a useful woman. As you know, she is prone to jealousy. The Gods must have given her beauty, but I am afraid they did not give her much else."

 Laughs were heard around the court. Whose father would say such words of their child? How unqualified must the First Royal wife be?

 The King looked taken aback as he said, "the First Royal wife is..." the King fought for an appropriate word, "...virtuous."

 The possessive hellion? Hearsay, for reasons unknown, he had recently punished a favoured Consort of the King.

 The King cleared his throat. "She is a great Consort. My respected officials, I have much to consider concerning the position of the Queen. If there is nothing else, the court is dismissed."

 The King headed to the imperial study.

 For once, the King did not have dinner with the First Royal wife. Irish knows of the King's reasons.

 She doesn't know how her attendant, Bae, could tell her word for word the happenings in court.

 Irish sighed as she thought of her father. Father, you had done all you can to protect me, but there are too many swords pointing towards my throat. I am not afraid for myself. I am so scared of you and my brother. Please, do not make an enemy of the King, and we may keep our lives.

 Back to the matter at hand, Bae had requested the other attendants, except for Sarah and Jennie, to leave her chambers to tell her the information. There was no point asking the two to leave as they would never agree to leave the Irish alone without protection.

 "Thank you for telling me, Bae. You will be rewarded for your efforts."

 Irish ordered, "Jennie. Prepare Bae's belongings."

 Bae is confused. "Your highness?"

 "Bae had begged to leave the palace to take care of her ailing mother. I have considered her years of service and will grant this request. After all, there is no greater virtue than filial piety. Bae will leave the palace tonight, and I bestow gold and silver for her journey."

 "W-what sickness? Why is your highness chasing me out?"

 Irish ignored Bae. "Sarah."

 Sarah stuffed a rag into Bae's mouth, and she gagged from the horrid smell, leaving Sarah free to tie her hands and legs.

 Irish addressed Bae, her black robes pooling at her feet, looking like a demon who rose from darkness's deepest depths.

 "You are not leaving, Bae. You will be staying here, beneath my room."

 Bae choked as the rag's pungent smell fills her mouth, and as Irish's dark promise rings in her ears.

 "The time you leave your cell is when you tell me who your master is, how you could have information from the court, and how dare you to bring it to me, knowing that Royal wives are not to interfere with state matters."

 "Jennie set out a new rumour," Irish said. "Spread the word that I made a scene today because the King did not dine with me."

 "As you wish, your highness."

 It was too late when Bae realized the First Royal wife is not what the rumours say.