Special Story 2.1

One day, Lee-Jae quietly made a request to the Head maid.

“Deborah. I need wood.”

“Wood, Your Majesty?”

The Head maid looked puzzled.

She glanced under the table to check.

Since carving was the Queen’s hobby, blocks of wood were always stocked in her quarters.

After confirming that there was still a generous supply, Deborah asked,

“Is there something wrong with the ones we have?”

“No, nothing like that. I just need a bigger piece this time.”

What she needed now wasn’t a block of wood—it was more like a wooden log.

“Something close to a round column would be best. You can get one, right?”

Lee-Jae shaped a circle with her arms to show the thickness.

But Deborah looked even more bewildered.

“Well, of course that’s not difficult to get, but… what exactly are you planning to carve?”

“You’ll see later. Oh—and don’t breathe a word of this to His Majesty.”

Lee-Jae smiled playfully, and Deborah bowed and quickly left the room.

But it wasn’t just the Head maid who’d grown curious.

From atop the bed, the spirit of the chest—who had been resting his chin in his hands—spoke up.

— Lee-Jae! What are you going to carve this time?

She hesitated.

Could she really tell him?

The King could now speak freely with spirits whenever he wished.

After a long, quiet look at the spirit, Lee-Jae decided to trust her little friend.

“I’m going to carve a bigger version of that.”

She pointed with her finger at the Heavenly Great General and Earthly General—the wooden guardian statues.

The spirit rolled his big round eyes from side to side, visibly confused.

— Why do you need to make those bigger?

“There’s a saying that good things should be seen in large sizes.”

In other words, she wanted to magnify them.

Lee-Jae gave her answer with pride.

But the spirit, ever pure and brutally honest, had no interest in human courtesy or polite agreement.

— But they’re ugly.

Lee-Jae was momentarily speechless.

She scratched her cheek, because… well, she couldn’t exactly disagree.

Still, she lowered her voice and leaned in to give the spirit a warning.

“Anyway, don’t you dare tell His Majesty about this, got it?”

She repeated the warning again for good measure.

But for some reason, the spirit’s expression quickly turned gloomy.

Fidgeting with his fingers, he mumbled,

— I won’t tell. It’s not like the King ever talks to me anyway.

“…Huh? He doesn’t?”

— Yeah. He just glares at me with that scary face of his. Every single day.

Lee-Jae froze.

That thought had never crossed her mind.

Sure, the spirit wasn’t human—but he wasn’t an unpleasant presence either.

In fact, Lee-Jae had thought the spirit was adorably creepy when she first met him.

So why would the King treat him like that?

He wasn’t the type to be rude for no reason—though he did have a bit of a mischievous streak.

Unable to come up with a good answer, she watched the spirit pout and sulk.

— He probably hates me. It’s the nose, right? I don’t have one, and he doesn’t like that.

The spirit seemed convinced that this was the only possible explanation.

Lee-Jae found him both endearing and a little pitiful.

He often mimicked the way people in the palace spoke, sat cross-legged like her, and remembered the stories she told him, eager to repeat them at the right time.

‘Why do you even want to be human when you’re not one?’

That wish was something that could never come true.

“You’re cute just the way you are now. And as for His Majesty… hmm, I don’t think he dislikes you.”

The King often growled at nobles without hesitation.

But that was part of the throne.

In truth, he rarely cared enough about anyone to hate them.

There was no way someone like the King would focus that kind of attention on a fragile spirit.

But if she said that out loud, Lee-Jae thought the spirit might be even more heartbroken.

So instead, she just kept repeating how cute he was, gently consoling him.

That evening, after sharing dinner together, the King and Lee-Jae returned to their bedroom.

They lay side by side, talking quietly until the night grew deep.

The topics were simple, almost mundane—whether the day had been busy, who they had spoken with, and whether anything had been particularly hard.

And then, for the first time in a while, Lee-Jae waited for the King to fall asleep before her.

Something had been weighing on her mind since dinner.

The Commander of the royal knights had been staring at her intensely today.

Of course, it was natural for palace people to observe every move the royals made, but there had been something desperate in his gaze that she couldn’t ignore.

What’s more, Jade had looked pale and listless, a gloomy energy hanging heavily around him.

‘Did something happen?’

As soon as the King began breathing in the steady rhythm of sleep, Lee-Jae quietly got out of bed.

Closing the door behind her, she stepped out into the corridor, where the Head maid immediately asked, “Your Majesty, is there something you need?”

Lee-Jae shook her head and looked around.

Luckily, the knight commander hadn’t switched shifts yet.

“Jade, are you busy?”

“………”

“If not, come with me for a moment.”

When he just blinked at her, clearly caught off guard, she ended up grabbing his sleeve.

Startled but obedient, Jade let himself be pulled along, confusion written all over his face.

When they finally rounded a corner and confirmed no one was around, Lee-Jae whispered softly.

She needed to check something that had been gnawing at her.

“Jade. Is something wrong?”

“…Pardon?”

“You looked really unwell earlier. And you were staring at me, weren’t you?”

“Was it… really that obvious?”

Jade looked embarrassed, and Lee-Jae gave him a gentle smile.

The staring wasn’t the issue. Even now, worry was all over his face.

It was impossible not to notice.

And in truth, Jade did have something weighing on him.

His love life wasn’t going well.

But as he looked at the Queen, he remembered something the fortune-teller had once said—that a rare, fateful encounter would come his way.

Lately, he’d almost wanted to ask for advice like the other nobles did.

But the King loathed it when anyone bothered the Queen that way.

Just the other day, while sparring with someone, the King had gone off again with one of his rants:

“If the Queen charged a fee for every audience, she’d be sitting on a pile of gold by now. But my wife doesn’t need to waste time dealing with nobles for pocket change.”

“Sometimes I miss being called a tyrant.”

“What does that even mean, Your Majesty?”

“Makes me want to barge in and burn down the audience chamber just for fun.”

Lee-Jae’s concern hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Jade was grateful.

But it was clear from the King’s grumbling—however offhanded—that he’d meant every word.

Suddenly worried, Jade leaned in and lowered his voice even further.

“Your Majesty… you won’t tell His Majesty about this conversation, did you?”

“Why would I bring something like this up with him?”

“………”

“And I do do my best to keep secrets, you know.”

The two of them stood there in silence for a long while, in the dim, quiet corridor.

Lee-Jae simply waited in silence, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jade finally began to speak.

“No, it’s really nothing. Just… too trivial to bring up to someone like you…”

But he never got to finish.

Because at that moment, someone appeared behind the Queen.

Just as Lee-Jae was frowning at Jade’s startled expression, before she could even turn around—someone wrapped their arms tightly around her from behind.

The scent was familiar.

So was the broad chest.

“What are you doing with another man’s wife in the middle of the night? Lee-Jae. What are you doing out here?”

The King asked them both—his wife and his closest friend.

Lee-Jae reached up to gently brush his arm.

“Roderick… you’re awake?”

“Yeah. You weren’t beside me, so I got worried. Come on. Sleep in your husband’s arms like a good girl.”

Anyone would worry if the person sleeping beside them suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

And Roderick knew better than anyone: whenever Lee-Jae moved around at night, it usually meant something dangerous had happened.

Once he confirmed that she was safe, he buried his face in the nape of her neck, then idly stroked her shoulder.

It was something he always did.

But perhaps because of the quiet hour, or the drowsiness still lingering in his voice—he seemed more languid than usual.

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and murmured in her ear:

“Were you bored? Then you should’ve woken me.”

“………”

“Hmm?”

Lee-Jae only smiled in reply.

But the King’s expression slowly shifted, curiosity growing.

He was now facing Jade—and while his wife looked serene, his friend looked deeply flustered.

With a glance, the King silently demanded an explanation.

Was there some kind of problem? Some danger?

“N-no. We were just talking, that’s all,” Jade said quickly.

The King’s gaze wandered across the corridor—empty except for a single lantern, not even a spirit in sight.

Then he tilted his head.

“What exactly do you have to talk about with my wife, in secret, at this hour?”

“W-we weren’t… hiding anything…”

Jade stumbled over his words, and Lee-Jae couldn’t help but laugh, crinkling her nose.

She had thought it before: Jade really wasn’t good at lying.

And clearly, the King knew that too.

“Mm. That’s a suspicious reaction.”

“………”

“Jade, just so you know—I don’t make exceptions. Not even for you. Nothing is more important to me than her.”

Jade looked completely dumbfounded, and Lee-Jae jabbed her elbow back into her husband with a playful scoff.

She knew perfectly well he was only teasing.

The King leaned in close and whispered into her ear:

“What?”

“Don’t say things like that. I just couldn’t sleep, so I was pestering the knight commander, that’s all.”

To reassure him, she stroked his arm lightly.

The King let out a quiet chuckle.

Of course, it had been a joke.

Still—he remained a little curious.

What on earth had the two of them been talking about out here in the dark?