Scholarship Princess | Choi Seungcheol

04.

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"Your majesty, the Crown Prince has requested an audience." The secretary spoke, notifying the King of his son waiting in the hallways anxiously, "He's been here since the past half an hour."

The King sighed before sitting down and submitting to his stubborn son, "Fine, tell him he has five minutes." He knew what Seungcheol was going to bring up. It was the only reason for his son to show up at his office instead of slaving away at his own.

Within the second wasted, the King heard a knock on his door and his son's quick entrance. "Good morning Father."

The King smiled at his son's petty manner of calling him formally, "Yes, son, it is indeed a good morning. In fact, I just went out shopping and packed you a warm bowl of Kimchi Stew. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Seungcheol was not falling for it. "And what of the new Crown Princess you've collected along the way? Was it a one plus one deal you could not help but have?"

"Oh come now." The old man smiled, "You might not believe it but it really was! The plus one is her amazing cooking skills at Kimchi Stew, though. Won't you have a taste? You might regret it." The King hinted as the packed bowl was indeed brought in, served in the palace utensils.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at his father, trying to understand, "Is this because of the charity concert I did last month? You allowed the plan and I wasn't even the main artist. The proceeds helped the image of the monarchy as well. Are you still cross about me being on stage?"

"Cross?" The old man turned his head, leaving the soup untouched. Picking a few papers from his desk, "I do not need to be cross with you, my son, over something so trivial. As the ruler however," Sitting down, he crossed his legs, the morning sun lit up from the glass window behind him.

Seungcheol stood in his place, his form straightening because he could no longer recognise the man in front of him as his father but as the revered King of the new Kingdom of Korea. "It is my responsibility to allow the best of talents to bloom on this seat of reign. Your diamond spoon can no longer pave the way to the throne, Prince Seungcheol for your competitor has now arrived."

"It is now time for you to face the sun."

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"Granny, would you like me to prepare sanghwa tea for you with this?" Ari asked, gazing at the elderly lady from across the market. The town was a small place and everyone was well acquainted within the area. All her regulars were most likely to be people from around the area and offering them sweet little freebies was the perfect way to get them spending.

The old lady nodded, smiling as Ari rushed back to the kitchen to prepare it. "Aigoo, you've grown to be such a splitting image of your father. Jong Gun-ie would've loved to see you like this."

Ari smiled, lowering the gas to allow the tea to simmer for a longer time. How would her father have felt watching his daughter follow in his shoes, manning the very store he once started? Would his chest have swelled with pride?

"Ay, immo (aunt)," The old lady's niece spoke coming in, "Jong Gun would've scolded us for saying something like that." Ari looked up from pouring the tea, surprised. She hadn't noticed the niece walk in, buried in her thoughts. Readying an extra cup and placing it in front of the two, Ari leaned in for an explanation, "What do you mean, aunt?"

"Ah, dear," She gratefully accepted the cup, "I don't mean it like that. Your father was so proud of you. He'd—" In a hurry to taste the tea, the old lady's niece blew air on the tea as Ari sucked in a breath of her own, "He'd always boast about how his daughter would never work in a shabby store like his. Your papa truly believed you were meant for greater things, that no matter where you went, you'd make him proud."

"Of course, we'd joke about—" Ari could not hear what the lady said after that. The rest didn't matter. Her thoughts were glued onto the one sentence, the rest fading into background. Soft tears glinting at the corners of her eyes, Ari felt her chest tie knots in a melancholic feeling. Her father had believed in her, in the capability she beheld. And at every step, every decisive moment, unbeknownst to her, he had supported her.

Ari let her eyes close shut. The debt, the store, the townspeople, the boiling pot on the corner stove... They arranged themselves in an easy checklist with unlimited unnamed items. It was exhilarating. The risk, the choice to fill in the blank however she wished.

In that moment, she could do anything, be anything, overcome anything.

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"You'll be starting with a scholarship at the Seoul Royal University with an exclusive enrollment." The chief of staff went over the contract details, reading out the clauses Ari would most likely want changes in.

Ari stopped, glancing at the words in the small closer store. "Why do I need to enroll again? I'm already a student."

"You are a student of the general course open to the wider public, yes." The man agreed, "But you are no longer the same Kim Ari anymore. As your candidacy is being considered in open play, your education will have to reflect it. The Seoul Royal University may operate as a simple college for the general public but a separate building exists for the elite."

The pen touching her lips, Ari pondered, "So the separate building is a status symbol?"

"Not quite." He corrected, "It is an educational institute, just the same with additional courses. For your general or mixed classes, you may attend the main building you always did but to truly study monarchy, diplomacy, leadership, management and history, you will join the princes and eligible council members in the elite building."

Chief of Staff, Mr Emerson did not hesitate to enunciate in his perfect Korean fluency. Away from the discussion, he stressed on the importance of her position.

"This country governs on the basis of skill, not simply connection. If you truly wish to take the throne for yourself, you will have to prove yourself to the people." He offered, "The elite closed the gates of the building long before the second prince was born. To open their doors to you..." The man stroked his chin in confusion, "They must've invested a great deal in the idea."

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