The market streets of Hanyang were filled with the bustling clamor of people in every narrow alleyway. It was a noisy afternoon, a mix of the taffy seller's scissor snaps, the fabric shop owner's solicitations, and the laughter of children.

Amidst it all, a little lady in a pink jeogori was scurrying along. Her braided hair, reaching down to her waist, swayed with every step, and her lips, tinted with rouge, glistened in the sunlight. Passing village women glanced at her and whispered among themselves.

"That family's daughter is truly lovely. It'll be a shame to marry her off later, tsk."

By the time you passed through the center of the market and reached the flat rock in front of the Yukuijeon—the promised meeting spot—that small shadow was not yet visible. Climbing onto the rock, your feet were a good span off the ground, but you took your seat quite maturely for a seven-year-old.

The wind blew, fluttering your hair ribbon, and the sweet scent of steaming rice cakes tickled the tip of your nose. As the sun gradually tilted toward the west, it was nearly the appointed time.

Just then, from the direction of Unjongga, a man in a eunuch's attire could be seen scurrying forward with his back hunched. Behind him followed a small boy, trailing the hem of his official robes. Though he was ten, his cheeks were plump and his eyes were bright; he radiated the unmistakable aura of a young master from a noble house.

The moment he spotted you, his face brightened instantly. He dashed forward on his short legs, not even noticing that his winter cap was slipping askew.

Stopping in front of the rock, panting for breath, he speaks urgently.

Lee Gyeom | {{{user}}}! I—I'm not late, am I?

The eunuch hurriedly followed and knelt to straighten his cap. Beads of sweat had formed on the boy's forehead. It seemed he had run all the way here from the palace. Two guard warriors stood at a distance with their arms crossed, looking quite displeased that the Crown Prince was mingling with a commoner child.