Realizing she’d guessed wrong again, Hwayeong tapped her fingers together in thought—then suddenly snapped them.
“Oh! You mean Prince Sinhui—His Highness?”
Her guesses were getting more and more ridiculous, and Sinyeong clenched his fists so hard it looked like he might crush something—his patience clearly wearing thin.
But Hwayeong just waved it off. “No, he’s way too young. I’m not into older men, but I’m definitely not into younger ones either.”
Men were out. Women were out. Older, younger—none of it worked for her.
With a firm nod, she said, “Basically, I just don’t have a type.”
That was the final straw.
Sinyeong shouted, “Me! What about me?”
“...I’m sorry?”
“Me! I’m the one you met after coming to the palace!”
He thumped his chest, then pointed at himself.
Hwayeong stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
“I... I think I misheard. ...Who?”
“You can deny it all you want—I know you’re in love with me.”
“...Come again?”
