MOSC 1

It was the kind of pitch-dark evening when only monsters would be wandering about.

At the gate of the princess’s residence in Hwanjo Kingdom—the one and only golden-branch princess’s dwelling—stood a single flower palanquin, waiting to carry palace maid Kim On.

“Tsk, you look as if you’ve just received royal favor.”

So said On’s senior, Court Lady Chu, as her gaze swept over On.

Fine makeup, a gold-bamboo hairpin, her body wrapped in fine silk, her face and figure hidden beneath a long veil.

She didn’t look like an ordinary maid, but like one being summoned to the king’s bedchamber.

…Of course, nothing could be further from the truth.

‘If only I were going to receive His Majesty’s favor instead, that would be a blessing.’

On thought, her eyes vacant.

The fellow palace maids who knew her circumstances well were busy wiping their tears as if someone in their family had died.

“Sob… On, what kind of heaven-shattering decree is this? Her Highness has been heartless indeed. For ten years you’ve served our capricious, temperamental, and unpredictable Princess Bonghwa as if she were your own life, only to end up as a toy for one night—a bridal test maid to verify the prince consort’s virility….”

It was slander aimed at none other than the precious sole princess of the kingdom.

…Yet not one of them bothered to watch their tongue.

Court Lady Chu, who had waited on Princess Bonghwa so long that her hair had turned white like frost, could only frown, her brow lined with the word for “heaven.”

Some others broke into loud, wailing sobs, enough to shake the palace walls.

A bridal test maid.

On recalled, dazed, how a few weeks ago she had been entrusted with this role by the queen herself.

“…Our crazy bit— I mean, the princess is finally getting married.”

“Yes, congratulations, Your Majesty.”

“…Before the marriage, we must confirm whether the prince consort-to-be functions well in that regard. I’m searching for a suitable girl. Can you recommend anyone?”

“Yes… Y—yes?!”

“…No one? Then it shall be you.”

On had cried for days.

Nothing had ever struck her like this bolt from the blue.

It wasn’t a promotion, but a demotion beyond compare.

‘After everything I’ve endured for Princess Bonghwa…!’

Who was palace maid Kim On?

Through rain or snow, she had never once rested, chasing after the princess—like a loose foal in the fields—day and night, serving her as faithfully as a little pup.

The only maid in the palace rumored to be able to handle the princess’s fiery temper.

But even On could not reassure her fellow maids this time.

‘So the loudest hunting dog, once it’s used up, gets eaten first… that’s exactly me now.’

She stared blankly into the air, her soul seemingly gone.

Her fellow maids, knowing she had always been their only shield against their reckless mistress, now clung to her with more cruel words that only deepened the sting.

“…On, even if you later become a concubine, is that any way for a person to live? Forever treated as a lesser wife, losing Her Highness’s trust, surviving only on scraps, and if things turn sour, your own family might eliminate you. You who once served as the princess’s closest attendant—how could you fall so low….”

“…Right. She might not even be able to keep her life….”

“They say of past bridal test maids—some were simply dismissed quietly, but some were secretly disposed of. Sob…”

“…Yes… secretly, without a trace….”

On echoed their words like a parrot, her eyes as empty as dried fish in midwinter.

And indeed, they were right.

If the prince consort was too weak to consummate the marriage, or if his lust became a scandal, or if the princess grew too jealous—then the bridal maid would be quietly made to disappear.

At last, On smiled faintly, as if giving up everything.

“…It’s fine. Lady Chu, Guisaeng, everyone. Who else could do this if not me?”

She forced her lips into a twisted smile.

“Remember when we were novices? That time I fell into the well trying to save a cat in the princess’s palace? Even after vomiting out buckets of water, I still survived. And when that plague swept through, killing even the laundry maids with stomach pains and diarrhea, wasn’t I the only one left untouched? The court ladies always joked that Kim On must have two or three extra lives.”

There was a saying among the princess’s attendants:

“Kim On doesn’t die. She just won’t die.”

Even in the harshest palace environment, where maids were replaced every few days, On had survived the longest.

“…So I’ll survive this too.”

That’s what she said, though inside she was rotting.

She had tried to live rightly, as best she could.

She thought she had kept her principles.

‘I really did try to live well….’

She had endured the princess’s endless tyranny, absurdities, whims, and cruelty—bearing it, accepting it, suppressing it, ignoring it, pretending to understand, despairing, yet still remaining loyal, still obeying when told. Her body worn down, her soul shattered, and yet she survived purely by instinct.

…And this was the result.

“On…”

She smiled faintly, having given up everything, though inside she was burnt black like scorched rice.

“If I don’t go, who else could carry out Her Highness’s wishes? Maybe, who knows, this might even deepen the bond between the princess and her future husband. You know as well as I do how much grace I’ve received. This is a noble task, to see whether he is worthy of her. If I do my part well, surely heaven will reward me.”

…Anyone could see this was nothing but self-consolation.

The one who had given her this order was none other than the queen.

For a maid like her, the fallen daughter of a noble branded a traitor, there was no way to defy the command.

‘If it’s come to this, I’ll give my last ounce of strength, burn like a candle, and die loyal to the princess.’

On had already half abandoned her future.

But to the others, her resigned determination looked like noble self-sacrifice.

…Of course, that was an illusion.

If she could, she would have run away long ago.

“Ohhh, On!”

“On, everything depends on you. Do well, you hear?”

Her fellow maids wept as they sent her off.

The palanquin bearers lifted the flower palanquin with a sudden jerk. The beaded curtains rattled violently. The sound of her friends sobbing grew distant.

Inside, On rubbed her reddened nose and thought:

‘This is the end of Kim On’s stubbornly long life, strung along only by the queen’s mercy.’

She had entered the palace as a child and thought she would live and die there as the king’s servant.

‘To die as a man’s one-night plaything, when I was never fated for such a thing….’

Never had she imagined it.

Big tears rolled down her cheeks again and again.

All her life, she had known only palace service, nothing else.

Her honor as a maid.
Her loyalty to the princess.
Her devotion to the palace.
Her familiar daily life.

All abandoned now, as she went to become the prince consort’s concubine.

The future, unknown and terrifying, pressed down on her.

She sniffled.

‘…Should I break open the palanquin door and run? Change my name in some faraway land and live digging up roots?’

⋯But if she could have, she already would have. Escape was impossible.

She was to spend one night with the princess’s husband-to-be and then be discarded.

That was her role as the bridal test maid.

A whole day passed.

At last, the palanquin bearers, who had been panting as if climbing a hill, halted.

By then, dusk had nearly fallen. What first came into view was not a mountain nor a field, but the ground.

‘So this is the place…?’

It was a remote rural village.

And at its center stood a lone thatched cottage with a gabled roof, no fence around it, looking strangely out of place.