SNF | Chapter 5.4

The Emperor entered, adorned in golden imperial robes, a commanding presence that needed no embellishment. A half step behind him, the Empress followed with an elegant gait, a soft yet knowing smile playing on her lips.

Yeon-oh, along with the rest of the hall, rose to receive them.

Following closely behind, the Prince and Princess entered, their hands tightly clasped together. Unlike Yeon-oh, they seemed utterly unbothered by the weight of countless gazes—clearly accustomed to such scrutiny. Once the Prince and Princess took their seats, all but two of the designated seats for the imperial family and royal concubines were filled.

The Emperor, now seated on his jade throne, scanned the hall before his gaze landed on the empty seats. His brows knit together in displeasure.

“…The Crown Prince and the Crown Princess. Have they not arrived yet?”

The Eunuch, startled by the sudden inquiry, hesitated before lowering his head.

“I will send word to the Eastern Palace immediately, Your Majesty.”

“There is no need. They will come when they deem it time.”

Though the Emperor spoke dismissively, his furrowed brow betrayed his displeasure. The air in the Junghwajeon grew tense. It seemed the Crown Prince and Crown Princess had made quite the statement with their absence.

The Emperor made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Not a shred of affection could be seen in his expression when speaking of the Crown Prince, offering a glimpse into the nature of their strained relationship.

“Your Majesty, let us not dwell on such matters on a joyous occasion,” the Empress coaxed in a honeyed tone, before turning to the Eunuch standing behind the Emperor. “Send word to the Eastern Palace immediately.”

The Emperor’s furrowed brows eased slightly at the Empress’s soothing words. Only then did the tension in the hall lessen, as those who had been cautiously observing his mood finally relaxed.

“Well, I suppose this year’s festival is particularly meaningful for you, my Empress,” the Emperor mused, his voice slow and deliberate, yet carrying an undeniable weight. “This year marks the coming of age of your younger brother, my brother-in-law, and the heir of the Hye family.”

With those words, all eyes in the banquet hall shifted toward Yeon-oh—including the Emperor’s own.

Yeon-oh rose from his seat and stepped into the center of the hall, bowing deeply toward the Emperor.

“I, Yeon-oh of the Hye family, humbly pay my respects to Your Majesty. May you enjoy eternal prosperity.”

His voice, deep and fluid, resonated smoothly through the banquet hall.

“Raise your head.”

“I am overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s grace.”

“It has been some time. I hear you recently spent time with the Prince and Princess. The Prince seems particularly fond of you.”

“How could my devotion to Your Majesty not be greater than that?” Yeon-oh replied smoothly.

“Indeed, Father is the best in the world!” the Prince chimed in enthusiastically.

“Oh dear, Prince, your Mother might feel slighted,” the Emperor chuckled, rather than chastising the boy for his sudden interruption.

The exchange was more than just playful banter—it was a display of the Emperor’s affection for the Prince, a deliberate reminder to all present of where his favoritism lay. A particularly perceptive official took the opportunity to flatter him, proclaiming that such harmony within the imperial family was the reason for the nation’s prosperity.

“At any rate,” the Emperor continued, “I hear that since my brother-in-law has returned to the Capital, the Prime Minister has been feeling much less lonely. Now that you are sixteen, isn’t it time you brought further joy to your family with a wedding?”

As expected, just as Jo Myeonghwan had predicted, the talk of marriage arose the moment he came of age. It wasn’t surprising—after all, as the heir to a Feudal Noble house, such matters were not taken lightly.

“I trust that Father will find me a suitable match,” Yeon-oh replied, his tone carefully measured.

“So, there is no one in particular you favor?”

Having spent most of his childhood in Hanam, where he had been sent to recover his health, the idea of a romantic attachment had never even been a consideration for Yeon-oh. However, he also suspected there was a reason why the Emperor had chosen to bring up the matter of his marriage here, in front of everyone.

“Prime Minister, what do you think of having your son marry one of the unwed ladies of the imperial family?”

“It would be the greatest honor, Your Majesty.”

“Haha, good. Then I shall find a suitable match for my brother-in-law.”

“Your Majesty’s grace is boundless.”

As expected, the conversation continued without any regard for Yeon-oh’s own will in the matter. He remained silent, his expression impassive.

“Your Majesty, should we not hear the young master’s loyalty oath first? He is already waiting,” the Empress interjected smoothly.

One of the most significant traditions of the Spring Festival banquet was the oath of loyalty, taken by the children of Feudal Noble families who had reached the age of sixteen. Only once this ritual was completed could the banquet truly begin.

At the Empress’s suggestion, the Emperor let the subject of marriage drop and gave a subtle nod. A Eunuch quickly approached, carrying a small tray. Upon it lay a silver chalice and a ceremonial dagger, wrapped in golden silk.

Yeon-oh glanced at the dagger before kneeling and bowing deeply. Rising once more, he reached for the weapon.

The silver dagger was both light and heavy in his grasp. As he drew it from its sheath, the cold blade glimmered under the hall’s lights. Without hesitation, he grasped the blade with his left hand and drew it swiftly across his palm. A thin line of crimson welled up before blood dripped into the chalice below.

A eunuch, careful in his movements, stepped forward to retrieve the blood-filled chalice. He carried it up the nine-tiered platform and presented it to the Emperor.

“I, Yeon-oh of the Hye family, swear upon my name and the honor of my family to serve Your Majesty, the Imperial Family, and the Empire of Anra with unwavering loyalty.”

“Come closer.”

The Emperor gestured, his gaze sharp.

Yeon-oh ascended the platform and knelt before the jade throne.

A quiet shuffle echoed in the silence as the Emperor adjusted his seat. The golden silk of his imperial robe rustled against the floor, momentarily revealing the tips of his ceremonial boots before they were concealed again.

Yeon-oh, his gaze unwavering, accepted the ceremonial wine cup presented by the eunuch, holding it with both hands.

“May your loyalty prove true.” The Emperor’s voice was low, steady, and absolute.

The silver chalice filled to the brim with clear liquid. The surface of the royal wine rippled gently as Yeon-oh lifted his gaze.

“I am eternally grateful for Your Majesty’s grace.”

It was his first time drinking alcohol. The aroma was fragrant, yet as soon as it passed his throat, a sharp heat burned its way down. It felt as though it was scratching him from within. He hesitated only briefly before emptying the chalice in one steady motion.

“Young master.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Please speak.”

“I expect you to become a pillar I can rely on.”

“I will strive to meet Your Majesty’s expectations.”

The Emperor smiled in satisfaction. He watched Yeon-oh for a long moment before waving his hand dismissively. Understanding the silent command, Yeon-oh carefully descended the steps and returned to his seat.

As soon as he sat down, an attendant standing behind him stepped forward, wrapping his hand in fine silk. It stung, but instead of wincing, Yeon-oh merely turned his gaze away.

The Emperor, meanwhile, stood holding a jade wine cup, his presence commanding the attention of all.

“This year is truly significant,” he mused. “Not only has my only brother-in-law come of age, but it is also the year my young prince turns eight in good health.”

Eight.

By the time his birthday came after the Spring Festival, the Prince would be granted a royal title and sent out of the palace. Would the Empress and the Prime Minister make their move before then? Or would they allow the title to be granted first and then strike at an opportune moment?

When Yeon-oh glanced at the Empress, she merely looked upon the Emperor with a serene, affectionate smile—pretending to be oblivious to any schemes at play.

“And so,” the Emperor continued, “I shall bestow a cup of wine upon my loyal subjects in celebration.”

At his words, eunuchs and attendants, who had been waiting in formation, lifted intricately crafted golden wine flasks from the imperial banquet table and descended from the platform. They moved down the hall, filling the cups of the assembled officials. Even those seated at the farthest ends of the hall received their cups with both hands, as if personally accepting the Emperor’s grace.

The Prime Minister rose from his seat, facing the Emperor, and lifted his wine cup high.

“Your Majesty’s generosity is boundless. We are deeply honored.”

His seasoned voice, carrying the weight of years, echoed through the hall.

“There is neither famine nor wailing to be heard throughout the empire—this is all because the benevolence of our revered Sovereign extends across the land. Even in the legendary Golden Age of Yao and Shun, peace could not have rivaled the prosperity of Your Majesty’s reign.”

Neither famine nor wailing…

Yeon-oh lowered his gaze as he reflected on those words.

A world without suffering did not exist. Not in past dynasties, not in the present, nor in any future reign. Even in the so-called “Golden Age of Yao and Shun,” there must have been sorrow. Hwaju, at this very moment, was plagued by bandits that had yet to be eradicated.

What a blatant falsehood.

“May Your Majesty’s grace continue to bless the empire for years to come.”

With that, the Prime Minister emptied his cup in one fluid motion. Seeing this, the other officials followed suit, one by one, raising their cups toward the Emperor.

“Long live the great Emperor! May Your Majesty enjoy eternal prosperity!”

Yeon-oh did not chant along, but he drained his cup in sync with the rest.

“May the blessings of Anra be upon you all.”

The Emperor, his smile unwavering, finished his own drink. With the ruler of the empire now in high spirits, the banquet guests freely indulged in the festivity.

As the Emperor returned to his throne, musicians struck up a lively tune. From somewhere within the hall, dancers emerged, their flowing sleeves fluttering as they moved gracefully in time with the music.