In the following days, Yi Yun watched the ministers and considered who could become a sufficient counterweight to his increasingly powerful grandfather. He even met with several political opponents, unexpectedly earning the approval of his own faction. Apparently, their Prince Seojin was making an effort, building connections. But so far no one influential and sensible enough had been found inside the palace.

  Hopes for the Left State Councilor did not materialize — the elderly Lord Min seemed satisfied with the current balance and was not going to take any risks.

  One of Yi Hyun’s uncles had been promoted to the Third Rank by the king, but that was not enough, and that man had more arrogance than insight. He would be of no use to the prince.

  Yi Yun began observing the rector of Seonggyungwan — although the man rarely appeared at court, he wielded considerable influence among scholars. If he could be convinced that Hyun was an exemplary Confucian and eager for knowledge, and that it was better to make him heir rather than the sword-clashing elder prince, perhaps the rector would condescend to politics. Perhaps Yi Yun should soon ask his father for permission to go hunting, to solidify his more martial image in the eyes of the people.

  The solution to this puzzle was unexpectedly suggested by Right State Councilor Kim. Not intentionally, of course.

  The greedy grandfather had indeed heard Yi Yun’s words about not wanting the throne, and remembered them.

  The choice of an heir was a matter of state importance, so even the wishes of the potential heir himself could not outweigh the opinions of the ministers and the king. So Councilor Kim left Yi Yun alone for the time being and decided to approach the matter from another angle.

  While his grandson was looking for support for his half-brother, the Right State Councilor gathered officials loyal to him, and they submitted to the king a petition to grant the late Honored Concubine Kim a posthumous rank of queen.

  This would only be fair toward the woman who had borne the king two sons and protected his blood at the cost of her own life, they declared.

  It would show that the king did not support the current queen from the clan of the traitor Choi, they whispered in the corridors.

  This could become the first step toward overthrowing the current queen — thought those who understood palace intrigues.

  And of course, if Yi Yun became the son of a queen rather than that of a concubine — how greatly his inheritance rights would rise! Not only the king’s elder son but also the legitimate child of the father and mother of Joseon. No one would doubt his worthiness or ability to become a great ruler.

  The king hesitated for one day and signed the petition.

  Envoys were sent to Great Qing with invitations to the ceremony of awarding the late concubine the rank of queen. It was implied that this would also be the occasion to acknowledge a new crown prince.

  The court stirred with activity, and Yi Hyun was forced to begin preparing quarters and a reception for the northern envoys. Yi Yun ground his teeth in helpless anger and stayed at the archery range again until dark, vainly trying to empty his fury into painted targets.

  It was on one such evening that a pale maid with widened eyes ran to him.

  “Your Highness!” she cried as soon as she saw him draw the bow. “She appeared again. Help!”

  Yi Yun lowered the bow before the arrow could fly and turned toward the maid. It was the same girl who had woken him with her scream half a month ago. He still had not learned her name.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Where?” he asked, handing the bow and arrow back to his eunuch.

  “By the well where the laundry maids wash. I will show you!” The maid clenched her fists and furrowed her brows, gathering all her courage. “Should you take a weapon, Your Highness?”

  “Do not worry about that,” Yi Yun replied. Running through the palace with a bow and a quiver of arrows was dangerous, he could be accused of treason. A mysterious bloodied ghost concerned him far less than his father’s anger.

  Besides, ordinary weapons rarely helped against spirits.

  “I was thinking,” the girl panted beside him as they hurried toward the service courtyard, “if everything people said about her was untrue… Then she is a virgin spirit, is she not? And if someone is killed as a virgin — you know how, uh, vicious the ghosts become afterward!”

  This was perhaps the first true superstition he had heard lately.

  Virgin ghosts did indeed become visible more often than others and could even pose danger to the living. Though Yi Yun was almost certain that this one was not the servant girl murdered in the port.

  Even if she had been very angry, first, she would be angry with him — her assassin — not with some maid, and second, she could not have entered the protected palace.

  If the dead from the port could get into Gyeongbokgung, an entire crowd would be flying after him, and he would definitely notice that. As ridiculous as it sounded, moving into a protected palace had its unexpected advantages.

  They turned a corner, walked under a gallery, descended the stairs, and found themselves in a long courtyard with a well and low stone-lined basins where the laundry maids usually soaked clothes. A woman with loose hair was sitting on one of the stones, as if washing something.

  Yi Yun gestured for the maid to wait and quietly approached the late-night washer. Gravel crunched beneath his foot at the last moment. The washer turned and stared at him with black eyes. A large butcher’s knife protruded from her chest.

  “I am Prince Seojin, the elder son of the king,” he introduced himself by his new official title. “And who are you?”

  “I know who you are, motherless son,” the maid bared her teeth. “And I serve the mother without children. Do not hinder my washing — I must bring my lady clean socks, the ones they ruined. Malicious, malicious eunuchs! I will find who did this, and they will suffer…”

  The mother without children — that was likely the unfavored queen. But what was the offended spirit of her maidservant doing in the palace if the queen had moved to another part of the capital a month ago, far from the royal palace?

  “Who killed you?” Yi Yun asked. “Where is your body?”

  “A jealous fool,” the ghost sighed. “Idiot. How do I scrub this white again?”

  “And who stained the socks?” Yi Yun decided to approach from another angle.

  “Eunuchs, wicked eunuchs,” the ghost maid snarled and showed sharp teeth. “I am looking for them, I will find them, and they will answer to me! My lady must have clean socks, whitely-white.”

  “Where did they ruin those socks? In the palace?” While the ghost was willing to speak, he had to learn as much as possible. “Can you show me that place? If I find those who wronged you, I will order them punished.”

  “You will punish them?” the ghost lifted her head and looked at him with piercing black eyes without irises. “You will not be able to punish them, prince. No one saw, no one knows. But I will find them, yes… All four of them. One must not stain my lady’s socks.”

  “What was your name?” Not all spirits knew the answer, especially if no memorial tablet had been placed for them, but it was worth checking.

  “My name?” the ghost hesitated, then wailed and soared above the soaking basin. “I do not know! I do not remember! Who cares about the fate of an unfortunate court maid?”

  “Take me to where the knife and socks are now,” Yi Yun understood that questions about her body would only enrage her further. But if the socks were so important, she might remember where they had been left. “I will have them washed clean.”

  “You will help?” The ghost flew close to Yi Yun and stopped a palm’s width from his face. He swallowed hard but tried not to show fear. This maid was unlike ordinary spirits, she seemed much more material and solid. Was she a virgin spirit or perhaps a hungry ghost born of grievance? If even an ordinary maid could see her… “If you help, I will show you where they hid them. Where no one, no one would notice. A clever place.”

  “There is a maid with me, see?” Yi Yun gestured toward the stairs he had come down from. “I will order her to wash the socks, and they will again be worthy of a queen.”

  “I will believe you, prince, but do not dare deceive me,” the ghost hissed and, gathering her skirts as she might have in life, drifted forward with solemn grace.

  Yi Yun exhaled, signaled to his companion to follow, and went after the ghost.