Empress Handbook

Chapter One | The Selection

The white gold chandelier sheds a beam on Yeoreum's simple hairdo. She clutches her mermaid gown, using her tight grip to remind herself to maintain her courteous posture.

The Selection is tough to enter. It is held to appoint the future Empress of the modern-day monarchy, and it is not a ritual this generation has seen before. The last time the nation had a Selection was hundreds of years ago.

Yeoreum has heard that the Emperor's mother, Empress Dowager Park Yunhee brought back this ancient practice. The event has taken the world by storm, with foreign media discussing the history of Asian harems and the domestic media predicting who will grasp the Amethyst Empress Crown.

Of course, none of the commoner contestants was on that list.

Most contestants come from prestigious families, and Yeoreum would have never received an invite if she didn't get into Seoul Medical School with near-perfect exam results.

Song Yeoreum, a firm voice announces from the speakers, dragging Yeoreum out of her musing.

Immediately, a ring of shrewd eyes falls on Yeoreum. The women on the side twirl their fans as they scrutinise Yeoreum like scouring eagles.

Yeoreum senses their glances, but she doesn't mind them too much. She has already accomplished her mission with the five hundred U.S. dollars she obtained for attending today's round.

"Your Majesty," Yeoreum says. She steps forward and bows at the man behind the curtains according to the instructions. "Nice to meet you."

The spotlight falls on Yeoreum, illuminating her round face that is only as big as a hand. Yeoreum suppresses the urge to squint at the sudden light. A watery glisten catches her satin brown pupils, adorning her wide eyes with a touch of frailty.

"Song Yeoreum?" the man utters.

Yeoreum shudders at the low voice. That is the first time the man has said anything today.

Yeoreum smiles at the cherry hue on her index finger. It's from a lipstick sample she tried while waiting in the room outside. Red is a good colour. Perhaps a lucky omen will push her into the Top Five and the additional one thousand U.S. dollars that achievement entails.

Yeoreum's brain spins to convert the crashing dollar signs. Mathematics was never her strong suit, but numerical figures are much more workable in the concept of money. Roughly, that counts as one million Korean won. Her pillowy cherry lips almost fall ajar as she realises how much of her father's debt she'll be able to pay if her wish comes true.

"Yeoreum. Summer," the man murmurs. Though the resonance of his voice seems more toned down this time, it sounds much clearer to Yeoreum.

Gasps and shrieks trickle across the crowd. Some of the less composed contestants break their composure to glare in Yeoreum's direction.

Yeoreum lifts her gaze and finds herself gazing at a bewitching profile.

It's Kim Taehyung, this country's Emperor.

Taehyung's chiselled, deep-set features are masterfully delicate. Just as if God sculpted each and every detail with skilful, vigilant caresses.

The Rose of Sharon badge on Taehyung's suit emits piercing brilliance as he steps into Yeoreum's spotlight, reiterating the realness of this moment.

"I am quite fond of your name," Taehyung utters. "Nice to meet you too, Song Yeoreum-ssi."

———

Emperor's pick! Commoners for the win?

"What is this supposed to mean?" Yunhee cries.

Yunhee slams her tablet P.C. on the coffee table in front of her. The bone china teacup on the side shakes at the motion like a small ship rocking in a sea storm.