Dream of Affection

“Yoo-eum! Are you conscious?!”

I blinked at the empress calling me Yoo-eum. I knew I was awake, but this was still a dream. The fact that I was Princess Yoo-eum meant I was dreaming.

Ah, I hated this dream. I wanted to wake up. So I just kept blinking, silently chanting, Wake up. Get out of this dream. Don’t disgrace someone kind and noble; it’s better not to sleep at all. But no matter how much I urged myself to wake up, the dream showed no signs of ending. And then—

“Physician Woo! Does the princess seem unwell?! I will annihilate your entire family!”

The empress’s voice cracked with a mix of tears and fury. Annihilate an entire family? Startled by the intensity of her words, I shot up.

The court physician, presumably Woo, was sprawled on the floor, trembling violently. Judging by his reaction, the empress’s threat was no exaggeration. She truly intended to carry it out. My body acted before my mind; I grabbed the empress’s hand tightly.

I held her hand, but I had no idea what to say. How could I ask her not to punish the physician? He was only doing his duty.

“Yoo-eum, it’s your mother. Do you recognize me?” the empress asked urgently. I hesitated. Admitting recognition would be a lie. This woman was a mother worrying over her daughter—could I bring myself to lie to her? While I was torn, the empress’s sharp eyes flicked toward the physician. Instinctively, I squeezed her hand tighter.

“M-mother,” I managed to say.

And so began my life of deception.

I know lying is wrong, but there was no choice. I couldn’t let an innocent physician’s family be punished. Raised in the palace and once a Crown Princess, I knew how to read the true intentions behind noble words. The empress wasn’t bluffing; she meant every word. She would destroy the physician’s family in her grief and rage.

“I am…”

I coughed, my stomach twisting as if someone had kicked me. Why does this hurt so much? Just as I wondered, the empress cupped my face with her soft hands.

“What happened? Why did you go there?” she asked.

There?

“Why did you enter that place where the consort died? You knew it was sealed by the late emperor’s command! Must you really do something so reckless that you risk being disowned?!”

Consort?

“What if she harmed you? If her curse reached you, if it touched you…!” The empress broke off, her voice giving way to sobs. Like a child, she cried without restraint. It was the first time I’d ever seen an empress, the highest of all noble women, weep so openly, and I was stunned.

All my life, I’d been trained not to reveal emotions. As Crown Princess, and future empress, I’d been taught to hide my feelings. But here was the empress, openly crying like a child. It shocked me to my core.

Fascinated, I stared at her until she abruptly lifted her head and spoke.

“I have lived my entire life being compared to that wretched consort, but I endured it. Yet if that woman’s curse takes you from me, I swear to the heavens I will go to the afterlife and erase her spirit!”

In that moment, I realized whom she meant by “that consort.”

It was me.

“Consort Shim…” I said tentatively, testing my own name.

“That damned woman! How dare she extend her evil hand toward you!” The empress exploded with rage. So, it was true. I had become the wretched spirit believed to have cursed Princess Yoo-eum. A hateful ghost, dead and scorned.

With my new reality as Princess Yoo-eum, I decided to gather information about the current state of the imperial court. If I was to be stuck in this dream, understanding the situation seemed necessary. My first plan was to summon the younger court maids under the pretext of wanting playmates.

Young maids hear everything and are often the first to spread gossip. They serve older maids who live together and share stories, making these young ones valuable sources. Although the older maids didn’t treat them as equals, their ears were always open.

I’d expected these young maids to speak freely, but I was surprised to find them silent and cautious. It wasn’t that they were disciplined—it was clear they feared Princess Yoo-eum.

The atmosphere was heavy, and despite my efforts to engage the young court maids with toys and sweets, they kept their lips tightly sealed. Their fear of the princess’s unpredictable temper outweighed any temptation. Just when I thought it was hopeless, one maid finally gave in and took a bite of the offered treats.

“I want to play with you,” I said.

After dismissing the others, I spent some time playing idle games with her. I did manage to gather some useful information, even if it wasn’t much. For instance, I picked up tips on how to handle simple chores like laundry and cleaning. Oddly enough, even skills learned in a dream could be of practical use in reality.

As we passed the time, I casually brought up the topic of Consort Shim—myself, in this dream. The phrase “This is just between you and me” always opens ears and loosens tongues.

“When I went into Naenggung,” I began.

The maid’s eyes sparkled with interest. Servants are always eager for stories about their masters; such tales could affect their own fates and made for entertaining gossip. Sharing a story with the older maids might even earn the young one a bit of leniency.

“I… entered Consort Shim’s room, and—”

“Did you really? Was her vengeful spirit there?!” she gasped.

Vengeful spirit.

“There was something,” I said ambiguously.

“Ah, I knew it! That’s why it was sealed! They say the High Priestess herself came to perform the sealing ritual, but the spirit must not have been completely exorcised! My lady, how terrifying it must have been for you!” The maid clutched my hand, her eyes watering as if she were about to cry. This child was clearly oblivious, unburdened by common sense.

The High Priestess herself? I knew who that was—my second aunt.

The Shim family, my family, has always been known for its eccentricities. We bore the notorious reputation of “selling daughters to sustain the family,” and it wasn’t entirely unjustified.

The most famous ancestor of our lineage was the Empress Taecho, the first empress of the unified continent during the ancient era. Her husband, Emperor Taecho, achieved the unification, and she was said to possess unparalleled beauty, remarkable patience, a benevolent heart, and, most notably, a powerful gift of foresight.

The legend goes that her visions were instrumental in Emperor Taecho’s conquest. Since then, the Shim family migrated through various kingdoms, staying together and prioritizing their interests above all else.

Wherever they went, daughters born with the petal mark—a birthmark shaped like a petal—became empresses. The mark could be as simple as three petals or as rare as five, and only three had possessed the five-petaled mark: Empress Taecho, a renowned empress who brought music and clothing advancements to the world, and me. While the former two are celebrated figures, I remain the disgraced daughter of a traitor.

No one in the Shim family had ever been born with both the petal and flame marks, except for Empress Taecho. The petal mark signified extraordinary beauty and the birth of great heirs, while the flame mark symbolized powerful spiritual abilities.

Children with the flame mark became priestesses, and my second aunt, the current High Priestess, holds that title. I had long assumed she survived the fall of our house since she had long severed ties with worldly affairs.

But to think she came to seal me personally? It was unexpected. The High Priestess, being detached from worldly matters, is beyond even the emperor’s direct influence, though she technically abides by the imperial command. It was strange to imagine her participating in such an event, treating me as a vengeful spirit.

Had I truly become a ghost, harboring resentment?

Is that why I now inhabit Princess Yoo-eum’s body?

No, I reminded myself, it’s just a dream. There’s no need to take it so seriously.

“But, my lady,” the maid whispered, almost too softly to hear.

“Was it true that His Majesty was there?”

What?!

I widened my eyes, and the maid flinched as though struck, quickly prostrating herself and stammering with fear, “I-I misspoke, my lady, forgive me.” She trembled, as if plagued by a fever.

What could this mean?

Why would His Majesty be in such a desolate place as Naenggung? It was an alarming rumor, one I couldn’t ignore. I pulled the maid to her feet as she sniffled, realizing the gravity of her slip. Frightened children are easy to handle. I gripped her arm tightly and spoke with a commanding tone.

“Speak clearly. Where did you hear that His Majesty was in Naenggung?”

“N-no, it’s not….”

“Are you trying to deceive this princess?” I threatened, raising my voice and promising punishment, not just for her but for every maid in her quarters, for negligence. The color drained from her face, and she began to spill the story.