Surim's Request
Late that afternoon, Surim summoned Yi Hui.
He was escorted to the northeastern inner quarters, opposite the annex where the White Dragon Unit was staying.
As he entered the reception chamber where Surim—Princess Sohye—awaited, Yi Hui planted his sword upright and dropped to one knee.
She was not a mere lady of rank.
She was a princess.
The daughter of the late emperor.
He lowered his head slowly and formally until his forehead touched the floor.
"I pay my respects to Her Highness Princess Sohye."
"Rise. Come this way."
Without moving her upper body, she lifted her hand gently and indicated the low table before her.
The gesture was unhurried yet unbroken, soft yet impossible to ignore.
There was a quiet smile at her lips, and her eyes held a warmth that seemed to embrace the person before her.
Yi Hui rose and took the seat offered, placing his sword neatly across his knees.
"Thank you."
Princess Sohye's face was pale and clear.
Her eyes were not large, but they were sharp and intelligent, the whites clean against the dark pupils.
It was those eyes that kept her beauty from seeming shallow.
She spoke first.
"You have been diligent. The training was… unusual."
"You observed it?"
"Yes. I heard of it and passed by at a distance. I could not see every detail, but it left a strong impression."
"It was only the drilling of common soldiers. I fear we have offended Your Highness's eyes."
"Not at all. I found it deeply moving. The method—recitation, standing meditation, then accumulation of qi—it is an effective way to help one grasp things quickly on one's own."
She spoke as though she understood the fundamentals of martial cultivation.
To a warrior, there is no greater pleasure than discussing martial arts.
When another matches the topic out of interest, it is both courtesy and goodwill.
"Does Your Highness also practice martial arts?"
"Only as necessary. Enough to protect myself. I had to leave the palace at a young age. I had to be able to guard my own life. It is nothing worthy of discussion here.
But that boy—Soun—he is remarkable. Young, yet strangely perceptive. His speech is mature. Is he truly a licentiate?"
It might have been simple curiosity.
Yet she was of imperial blood.
Yi Hui chose his words carefully.
"He committed discourtesy before. He is young; I ask that you do not hold it against him. He passed the provincial examination. He is indeed a licentiate. He can present his identification tablet if required. He is a likable child."
He deliberately diminished the matter, speaking of Soun in the third person, as if it were trivial.
But her gaze did not withdraw.
"His martial skill seemed quite advanced. Surely there was some special method?"
"There was no special method. He is simply diligent. He comes from the Yu family estate of Taiyuan. He trained systematically in the sword from childhood. That may account for his progress."
It was not entirely the truth.
But men in high positions prefer explanations that fit their expectations.
Saying he was the son of a martial household was sufficient.
Yi Hui did not want the princess to see Soun's true depth.
A fallen member of the imperial house still weighed people for use.
There was always a purpose behind such interest.
A warrior's usefulness could become currency—
service demanded without compensation,
or promises of future reward that bound one in invisible chains.
He guarded against that possibility.
"The Yu family of Taiyuan… Then the former Academician Yu—"
"The same. He retired and established the estate. I am impressed that Your Highness remembers."
"And what became of him? To send such a young boy to war…"
"He fell to barbarian blades last winter. When Taiyuan was ravaged, the Yu estate was destroyed as well. Master Yu perished. The boy survived only because he was away at the academy."
"Ah… how tragic."