Night slowly descended upon the palace, like a curtain of mystery embracing every corner in silence. Areum sat leaning against the wall of her room, holding a tattered yet meaningful embroidered cloth. Its intricate patterns seemed to breathe—telling an unfinished tale of the past.
Her heart was restless. Dreams of a soft-voiced woman calling her "my daughter" had become more frequent, more vivid. The woman's face—though blurred—felt incredibly close. Like a mirror from the past, calling her home.
"What exactly am I searching for… and who am I, really?" she whispered to herself.
Areum knew the time had come to seek answers—not as a cook, not as an outsider—but as an heir to a history nearly forgotten.
That night, she slipped out of the royal kitchen. She had trained for weeks to sneak away without a trace, and now every step was like a shadow.
Destination: Silk Hall—the place where she had once found her first clue about Seol Hwa.
The night fog cloaked the secret corridor known only to a few. Her chest tightened as her hand touched the worn wooden door. The hall was abandoned, left to rot and no longer used by the palace.
At the back wall, Areum examined the old carving that had always made her suspicious. After knocking in a certain pattern, she heard a faint click—and a hidden panel creaked slightly open. She pushed the small door and discovered a dusty wooden box covered in cobwebs.
Areum lifted it carefully. Inside were:
A faded embroidered cloth with a plum blossom and crescent moon symbol.
A handwritten note in old Hanja.
A tiny baby bracelet with a carved name: "Hwa".
Her hands trembled. This was no coincidence. That name... it was the same one the old man mentioned the other day. "Seol Hwa."
The next day, in secret, Areum brought the note to Yu Jin, the only person she fully trusted.
"This isn't ordinary writing. Only palace insiders would know how to write like this," Yu Jin said as she studied the worn paper. "But I know someone who might be able to help."
The Royal Bookbinder.
An old man who lived at the far end of the old market, nearly forgotten by the world. He had once been the keeper of royal records during the previous king's reign. Now, he was blind in one eye and his hands trembled—but his memory remained sharp.
At first, he refused to speak.
"I closed the book on palace affairs years ago," he said, almost dismissing them.
But when Areum showed him the embroidered cloth, he fell silent. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"I… I tied that bracelet on the baby's wrist… before she was taken away."
Areum froze.
"Seol Hwa?" she asked softly.
The old man nodded. "She was a princess… removed from the royal lineage. Because of a love that wasn't approved. But she still gave birth to a daughter… in secret. An heir that was never acknowledged."
Areum swallowed hard. "Where did they go?"
"The Temple of the Moonlit Plains," he replied. "A place where 'lost' palace women were hidden. No one was ever allowed in… except by blood."
Areum clutched the baby bracelet in her hand. Her chest tightened—not from fear, but because the truth was finally beginning to unfold.
"I have to go there," she whispered.
That night, before sleep, Areum stared out the window of her small room. The wind carried the faint scent of plum blossoms. Perhaps the same ones stitched into that cloth.
She wasn't just a cook lost in time. She might be… a discarded heir. And if Seol Hwa truly was her ancestor, then her past and future were more deeply entwined than she had ever imagined.
END OF CHAPTER 28