Where was I?
3. The couple goals
On the surface, it appears like Seong HuiJu’s goal is to INHERIT the Castle Group while Yi Ahn’s goal is to VACATE the palace group. I like the symmetry of their couple goals.
a. HJ’s goal
From the beginning, HJ was very vocal about her goal.
In Episode 1, HJ ordered her people to heavily promote her attendance at the party. She conceptualized the headline: “Castle Group successor gets invited to His Majesty’s Royal Birthday Banquet.” When her assistant questioned its veracity, she cynically admitted, “The ones who claim they’re all that (that = remarkable, exceptional, successful, etc.) are rarely that…. They’ll say it, hoping to will it to existence.”
In short, it was mere wishful thinking on her part. She knew she wasn’t designated as the heir of her father’s company, but she subscribed to the motto, “Fake it till you make it.”
In Episode 2, she laid out her marriage goal to one of the prospective husbands. She told the guy, “If you’re interested in marrying me, money must be what you’re after. I can do that. Whatever sum you have in mind, I can give you far more than that. What about you? Can you do your part? Are you willing to devote all of yourself to me so I can get all the way to the top?”
As she expected, her blunt, take-no-prisoners method scared him off. (Good riddance! I dislike this actor after his stint in that disastrous “A Hundred Memories.”)
Only the Grand Prince Yi Ahn was unfazed by her naked ambition.
YA: Tell me what you desire.
HJ: If I tell you, can you give it to me?
Tit for tat. She was parroting the words he told her when he rejected her proposal. Why? Because she wanted to mess with him like he did with her.
YA: Seong Huiju.
HJ: What I desire may be terribly difficult to attain.
And with that, she produced from her handbag a red envelope containing the “Flower of Honor.” These were carefully preserved flowers that she’d been given when her team beat his team during the archery competition. How sentimental of her!
Back then, she knew he had lost to her on purpose, so it was a hollow victory for her. He deliberately shot a 7 so his team could lose to her team by one point, 110-109. However, she didn’t know that YA was merely following his father’s orders. He was under royal command to hide his proverbial light under the bushel so he wouldn’t outshine his elder brother, the designated Crown Prince.
HJ: Didn’t it feel like crap? It felt like crap to me. Losing to someone who I could have beaten.
Of course. To someone like her, who won all the awards in school and just snagged “Best Entrepreneur” of the year, she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would lose a competition on purpose to a lesser competitor. She’d probably rather die than throw the game, just like YA did.
She didn’t know that, to YA, this had been his way of life. As the second son, it was drummed into him to lose to his older brother the Crown Prince, even when he could beat him handily.
HJ: My brother is an idiot. He got kicked out of the school we made a donation to. He even tanked a business that would’ve run on its own.
I love the dramatic irony here. The Grand Prince Yi Ahn must have had similar grievances about his eldest brother. His hyung had only one job to fulfill: to be the ceremonial king. But even that, he wanted out. He wanted to abdicate the throne for Yi Ahn, his more capable brother. But when the Queen insisted that he continue his reign for their son, the Crown Prince, he took the easy way out and killed himself in the fire.
Thus, while HJ was denouncing her older brother’s incompetence, she was unaware of the effects of her words on YA. He too had sibling woes, and he too had a “glass ceiling” that prevented him from reaching the top.
HJ: (continuing) But my father and the board are always dying to replace me with him whenever I make the slightest mistake. As if they’ve been biding their time. Why do you think that is? Because he was born before me? Because he’s a son? And a legitimate heir?
YA: (silent)
I’m sure the same questions must have run in YA’s head when he was a child. His father monitored his every move to make sure he didn’t surpass his older brother. For instance, the King attended the archery competition, not to cheer him on, like a typical father would do, but to see to it that he lost. However, unlike HJ, those questions had been long answered. The King favored his older brother precisely because he was the first-born son and the legitimate heir.
HJ: Ah. Perhaps it’s because he married into a noble family. That’s why… (shrugging) I’m looking to marry up.
YA: You would marry me for nothing more than a hollow title?
HJ: Because I’ve lost countless opportunities simply for not having that title.
I say out of the frying pan and into the fire.
To HJ, the royal title would liberate her from the social stigma. As an illegitimate child, she always felt like an imposter – or a pretender – to the throne of her father’s business empire. Marrying the Grand Prince, she would gain social status that she needed to be welcomed by the upper crust.
But YA knew the truth. He said it himself: the title is hollow. He was speaking from experience. He knew that, far from emancipating her, the title, and the responsibilities and duties attached to the title, would hold her down in the same way it held him down all his life. She expected the title to break the proverbial glass ceiling, but he knew that it was the quite the reverse. For him, at least.
YA: Prepare yourself to become the Grand Prince’s wife. You will be up against… (smirking) the whole nation.
HJ: (sighing, then smiling)
She was satisfied that he accepted her marriage proposal.
b. Yi Ahn’s goal
In contrast to HJ’s one-track mind, YA’s marital goal is more inscrutable.
In Episode 1, he indicated to the Prime Minister that he didn’t want to marry as this would require him to relinquish all his duties as the regent.
YA: It appears I’ll soon be married.
PM: You will?
YA: My sister-in-law presses me to take a spouse day after day. It’ll happen sooner rather than later. That will make your life quite difficult.
PM: Me?
YA: I’d have to leave the palace if I got married. It’ll be difficult to serve as regent from outside the palace. But His Majesty, at the tender age of eight, cannot attend to state affairs. The duties you dumped on me, including the various charity events, hosting of diplomatic delegations, visiting international organizations, cultural heritage management, and the unbearably dull military ceremonies will all fall to you once more. What could go wrong.
See that? He packaged his reason for postponing his marriage as a form of selfless service to the Prime Minister and the state.
But then, he appeared to have changed his tune after his conversation with that shady Queen Mother Yun. She told him that his marriage was necessary for the monarchy to thrive and succeed. As long as he was the regent, he was overshadowing his nephew, the young King.
Essentially, she was making the same demands as his father. She wanted him to depart from the palace because the proverbial “two suns” could not exist in the same sky. (Hmmm. Was it Confucius who preached that?)
You see, in the Joseon Dynasty political mindset, political power must be centralized in one ruler – or single “sun” – for the kingdom to prosper. Having two “suns,” that is, a de jure leader and de facto leader, would invariably lead to division, disharmony and chaos.
The Queen Mother Yun didn’t beat around the bush reminding YA that was the spare “sun.”
Queen Mother: No one shows concern for His Majesty. The palace was on fire, and the King almost died. Yet all anyone seems to care about is the scratch on your cheek.
Wow! This lady is good at gaslighting. She wasn’t concerned about her son, either. The palace was on fire, and her son was missing. But all she cared about was accusing the Grand Prince of killing the former king and attempting to kill the current one.
YA: Am I to blame for that?
Queen Mother: Yes, you are. You are the regent.
Ugh! She’s utterly hopeless: if she breaks a nail, I’m sure she’s going to pin th blame on him for that as well because he’s the regent. She wanted him as a scapegoat. Is this a case of sour grapes, too? Because she married the weak older son instead of the second son?
Ignoring her, he addressed the core issue.
YA: His Majesty is a mere eight years of age. Far too young to be overseeing state affairs. So my regency is unavoidable.
Queen Mother: Yi Ahn…
YA: (interrupting her) Furthermore, a regent holds no special powers.
Queen Mother: Yi Ahn…
YA: (speaking louder) Politicians engage in politics. Peddlers engage in business. The monarchy remains passive. Simply doing nothing is its sole duty.
That’s why he’d been trying to live his life above the fray.
Queen Mother: Have you ever considered that to be true power? The politicians burn with fervor to claim a place at your side. Because a single photo taken beside you wields greater power than ten pledges wrought with painstaking care. And the business elites? They hasten to attend to you on every diplomatic tour. The mere fact that you granted them a place by your side is enough to gain the trust of their investors. You eclipse the Crown itself.
Strawman fallacy. She wasn’t opposed to the monarchy holding the “true power” i.e., the ability to influence or convince politicians, businessmen and common folks to act and move a certain way with so little effort on his part. She was merely jealous — and frustrated — of the fact that YA possessed this “true power” while the men in her life (i.e., the late king and now her young son) were lacking.
If her son displayed this same ability, confidence, charisma, appeal, etc., then she wouldn’t resent Yi Ahn’s regency. In fact, she would likely tell her son to emulate his uncle.
YA: And so, what do you seek from me?
Queen Mother: That you be His Majesty’s steadfast pillar of support.
YA: I already serve in that capacity.
Queen Mother: Proceed to your nuptials. Wed the woman of my choosing and demonstrate your allegiance to His Majesty and me.
In short, she wanted YA to extinguish his light so her son could shine in his stead. Remember what YA told his Prime Minister? If he married, he would have to leave the palace. Surely, the Queen Mother was aware of this situation, too.
Hence, the symmetry in HJ and YA’s marriage plans.
HJ wanted to step up her game and inherit her father’s business empire. The royal wedding was her ticket. At the same time, YA seemed to have been convinced by the Queen Mother that stepping back from his royal duties was in the best interests of his nephew, so he agreed to the royal wedding.
Or was he really swayed by the Queen Mother?
To me, it’s entirely possible that through HJ’s ramblings that “she lost countless opportunities simply for not having that title,” she inspired him to become more assertive and stop playing second fiddle.
4. The name changes
Though I can’t read Hangul or Hanzi, I can google-translate.
I think YA’s original name — the name written on his test paper – was Yi (or Lee) Yeong Daegun. (Daegun is an honorary title for the son of a Joseon king and queen.) His father changed his name to Yi Shin after he aced the test.
King: Rise above such trifles.
Young YA: Sorry?
King: If it be remarkable, it is but the natural order. If it be lacking, it is but a cause for shame.
What a disgraceful thing to say to a child! To me, he was telling the young YA this: if he achieved something great, it was no big deal. It was to be expected of him as he was of royal blood anyway. Natural order = inborn excellence. But if he made a mistake (because he lacked competence, intelligence, or ability), then it’s on him, and him alone. He brought shame to the whole royal family because he went against the “natural order.”
Not only did the statement present a no-win situation for the poor child, but it also imposed an inhumane expectation on him.
Young YA: (arguing) But Father, is diligence not the duty of a man of virtue?
King: You are a Grand Prince before you are a man of virtue. (giving him his new name)
Such warped values! The king was telling the young prince that his priority in life wasn’t to cultivate virtues (or good morals) but to protect the monarchy as he was a Grand Prince first and foremost, and a man of virtue only second. This meant that if the child had to decide between doing the right thing or preserving the monarchy, he must choose the latter. Ugh! Machiavelli would surely approve of this message.
King: That is your new royal title.
Young YA: My royal title is to change?
King: It is a reminder to remain true and just. Do not stand in the way of the Crown Prince.
Later, his father renamed him to Yi Ahn.
King: This is your new royal name.
YA: Am I being rewarded again?
He was being ironic here. He knew that the name change wasn’t a reward but a punishment because he dared to outshine his older brother. The king was reminding him to stand down and let the Crown Prince take center stage.
For me, then, that’s a striking difference between YA’s father/the King and HJ’s father. As far as we know, HJ’s father never demanded her to take a step back in order to let her older brother win. He allowed her to have her own company to run and gave her free rein to compete as hard as she could. No doubt he was aggravated that his legitimate son always lost to HJ but he didn’t actively sabotage her.
More importantly, he didn’t give her a new name.
Here’s the other thing I found noteworthy about the changing of names.
YA’s name changed twice but his title remained consistent throughout; he was always the “Grand Prince.” In contrast, HJ’s name remained the same all her life, but she gave herself different titles each time she wrote to YA to request for an audience.
Hyeon, the aide: Ms. Seong has submitted another request for a royal audience. How shall I respond this time?
YA: Again?
Hyeon: Yes. I rejected it due to scheduling conflicts. But she submitted another request right away. With a different name, no less.
YA: What does that mean?
The first request clearly stated, “Seong Huiju from Castle Beauty.” This time, she put, “Castle Group Seong Hyeonguk’s second daughter.”
YA: Reject it.
So HJ followed it up with, “Executive Director of Castle Group, Seong Huiju.” Lol. She wasn’t hiding behind her father; she could stand on her own.
She tried multiple times until she found her open sesame.
Hyeon: She has already submitted over five requests.
YA: With another new name this time?
Hyeon: Yes, she put down “hoobae” this time.
Hoobae = junior alum
YA: Hoobae?
Hyeon: Yes. She requests the esteemed counsel of her senior alum this time. (chuckling) What’s this now? Are you two alumni?
YA: (smirking)
Hyeon: I assume it’s another rejection?
YA: Grant it.
Hyeon: Pardon?
YA: How can I say no to a junior alum in need?
And there you have it, folks. That’s the conversation that convinced me to stick around for this romcom. I like that the couple had a shared language that only the two of them understood. I also like the prospect of romance developing between HJ and YA, not through the use mushy, saccharine, and overly emotional love declarations, but through inside jokes and flirtatious banter. These show their mental connection better than I-love-you’s. Above all, I like that he remembered their “first” encounters in high school and at the royal banquet with amusement. As the second son/spare son, he always walked the line. It’s good for him to finally meet someone who’d drag him out of his royal confines with her cheekiness and audacity.
Happy weekend!
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