My Princess: Episode 10

by girlfriday

Finally, a conflict I can get behind, that isn’t motivated by press conferences and public opinion. Hae-young spends the episode in a frustrated snit, but it leads him to finally make a choice, and forces Seol to face some harsh facts of her own. Is it Love or Country? Kisses or Kings? And why’s a girl gotta sell out her country to get some smooches up in here?

 
EPISODE 10 RECAP

It’s the Love-Square-Face-Off, as Yoon-ju calls both men to pick her up, and then goes running to Hae-young in a hug. That puts Hae-young face to face with Seol, and Yoon-ju facing Jung-woo, as they hug and talk, but not really to each other.

Hae-young, eyeing Seol the whole time, tells her that he’ll always come if she calls, no matter what, and that she should have waited inside. Yoon-ju, looking right at Jung-woo, says that she just wanted to see him that much sooner. Dude, you people have ISSUES.

Hae-young tells Yoon-ju quietly that he’s not the one she waited for, but he’s going to take her hand and leave with her anyway. Yoon-ju catches on right away that this display is for Seol’s benefit, and tells Hae-young that he owes her one.

They start to walk away, but Seol bursts out, “Don’t go! Mr. P, don’t go!” Oh, you’re breaking my heart. I love that she’s not too proud to just tell him not to go. But alas, Mr. P must stand for Mr. Poopyhead, because he goes anyway.

Back at Dumpsville, Seol and Jung-woo sit dejected, until the professor offers to buy her something sweet, because that’s what people eat when they get rejected. I adore that you’re being nice to Seol, even though you’ve also taken a beating.

Hae-young drops Yoon-ju off and then returns to the palace, only to find that Seol still hasn’t returned and isn’t answering her phone. Neither is Jung-woo, which worries him as he paces around looking for her.

He finally finds her in the palace making ramen, on a portable stove no less. What happened to Gunnie the personal chef? He’d probably make you a ramen with smiley face chives or something.

The second he walks into the room, Seol tries to make a run for it, but she keeps getting tripped up over what to do with the half-cooked ramen, and he uses it as an excuse to keep her there. He starts out lecturing her as always, but then ends up asking worriedly why she didn’t pick up her phone. Seol: “To make your insides stew a little!” Ha. I do love her forthrightness. He realizes that he set himself up for that in leaving her there, but then to hide his feelings, he tells her, “Men’s insides don’t burn over women they formally rejected…Also, I don’t like milk.” Aaaargh.

Jung-woo returns home only to find Yoon-ju standing in his doorway. He watches silently as she hesitates, and then tries the old lock code on the door. It works. Satisfied with that, she turns to walk away and runs into Jung-woo.

She asks why he never changed the code, and he makes the excuse that it’s just a hassle. She says, eyes getting teary, that it’s a comfort to her. Gah, I feel the worst for Jung-woo because he has the utter misfortune of loving (or even having loved) such a stone-cold former human.

The next morning Seol wakes up to a giant mound of fan mail. Hae-young wakes up and checks the news, and finds Seol’s popularity on the rise. She’s even updated her website with a selca of her opening her fan mail. He laughs, and so do I, at the thought that this is what a 21st-century princess does to gain public favor. It’s not unlike being an idol star or an actress, and the meta in that is quite apt.

She calls him asking for advice on how to respond to her numerous letters of the I’m-in-love-with-you variety, and he jumps up to tell her to ignore them. She decides that she’s going to respond to every single comment and letter (yeah, good luck with that) and thinks that he’s best to advise, since he’s not one to “burn his insides” over her. Heh. Way to throw his own words back at him.

He tells her the internet is off-limits for a while, and tells her not to respond to anything, about anything. She wonders what difference it makes, if she answers questions honestly (about everything except her weight, heh).

He explains that every little question—whether she likes taxis or buses, red or blue—can be twisted to have political implications, which is why she shouldn’t answer. Well the red or blue question would certainly be a biggie in the States. She catches his drift, and then can’t help but ask if she shouldn’t answer this question then: Does she like Mr. P?

Getting in her face, he tells her not to answer that one, ever. She asks if even THAT is a political matter, and he tells her it’s the most political of them all. Oooh. True, but you’re the one who’s making it so, Mr. Diplomat. He also keeps her palace-bound unless she has his permission.

Hae-young gets called away to meet the President, who thinks it’s time he enter the palace in a formal capacity. Hae-young says that the princess isn’t ready for that, and tries to buy some more time. The President decides that he’ll have to bring her out of the palace then, and decides that an event at an orphanage should do the trick.

Yoon-ju meets with her father to discuss marriage plans, and she tells him that she’s going through with the wedding, and that Hae-young won’t be losing his fortune to the monarchy.

Secretary Oh tells Yoon-ju a critical piece of news—that Hae-young has found out about his father’s involvement in the death of Seol’s father. He says that no one knows the truth about how he really died, except for Hae-young’s dad, and he’s been MIA ever since.

Seol tries to get in touch with Dan, but Evil Sister is still fuming and doesn’t respond. Seol gets a call from her friend and promises to go see her, but Hae-young reminds her that she’s not going anywhere today.

She starts in on an excuse that her friend’s father’s father’s father died…but she’s clearly not so good at math since that puts us somewhere in the last century. He points it out (in the tone of do-you-think-I’m-an-idiot) and gives her homework on top of it.

At home, Dan stews and then finds a receipt on Mom’s phone for the flowers she sent to Seol. She throws another tantrum at Mom, upset that she’s always worked so hard to be the best, but Mom’s always loved Seol more. Oy, with your six-year-old woes, grown woman.

Mom cries and insists that she’s always loved her two daughters equally, but Dan remains frigid, even at Mom’s deluge of tears. I’m thinking, sociopath from an early age? I mean, what’s with you, robot girl? Or is it bad acting? I kind of can’t tell.

While Yoon-ju plots Seol’s demise with the opposition leader, Seol takes out yesterday’s note from Hae-young and swoons over it. How cute. But then she discovers that the note is written on a piece of an airline ticket, so she storms over to Hae-young to ask what it’s about.

She asks him in this hilarious mix of jondae and banmal, which he takes offense at, insisting that he’s her teacher, but she reminds him that she’s the royalty around here. She demands to know where he’s planning on sending her this time, but he tells her that it’s his ticket, and not to worry about it.

In their lesson today, he teaches her not to answer questions off the cuff, and throws a few out there about her favorite color: blue, and favorite singer: John Park, until he asks her favorite book. Seol: “The (female) Professor’s Evil Desire” He whirls around: “You read erotica?” Hahaha.

Seol: “…is NOT what I was going to say…It’s Tolstoy’s What Do People Live For?” Hae-young: “They live for erotica, apparently.” HA. He adds, “You’re not Lee Seol. You’re Ero-Seol.” (Which is a better pun in Korean.)

He tells her that the best way to deflect unanswerable questions is with a timely joke. She scoffs that her well-honed sense of humor is totally up to the task, so he tests her.

Hae-young: Do you like Park Hae-young, or Professor Nam?
Seol: … … I like all men.
Hae-young: Wanna die?

LOL. You told her to deflect with a joke. That’s what you get. She now starts deflecting his questions with her Mishil-speak, as he throws question after question. He casually tosses out, “When did you start liking Mr. P?”

She stammers, then realizes that he’s the one asking all the questions, so she starts tossing out ones of her own, following him out of the room. She asks if he still doesn’t want her to be the princess, but he doesn’t answer.

Jung-woo meets with Dan to ask about the royal satchel, but she refuses to answer, pretending that she wants to protect her sister from being kicked out of the palace. My ass. Even Jung-woo suspects that there’s something shady about the sister and the satchel, but can’t get anything else out of her.

Yoon-ju gives Seol the news that she’s been requested to do some charity work at the orphanage where she grew up, alongside the President. Yoon-ju scoffs at Seol’s bright attitude at being summoned to be the President’s cheerleader, but Seol just hilariously tells her that it’s a good deed, and she can get that “President ajusshi” to do some good work. Ha! Who calls the President “ajusshi”? She cracks me up.

She meets with Jung-woo, who tells her that Dan might have the satchel, but she’s not being very forthcoming, on top of which she’s wary because someone else has approached her about the very same thing. Jung-woo, ever the smart one (and thank god for that, really), tells her that Dan is likely someone who does NOT want her to be a princess.

He tells her that their biggest worry is that satchel. Seol: “Because it might be fake?” Jung-woo: “Because it might be real. Because then, we have no way of proving that it’s yours.” Well who didn’t smell that plot hole from a mile away? I’m just glad someone’s pointing it out to her before her sister knocks her upside the head with it.

Seol gets to work making some soup to take to the orphanage, and this time she enlists Gunnie’s help. He adorably teaches her how to cook with love (as in putting her love into what she makes), and Hae-young walks in on their cozy little scene.

He’s got jealous-exasperated-face, so Gunnie scoots out with a wink. Seol wonders what the big deal is, but Hae-young lays into her for agreeing to go to the orphanage without consulting him. She doesn’t see it as a big deal, which just makes him start yelling, that this is why he can’t let her out in the world, since she’s so clueless about everything. Well you can’t yell cynicism into her. She’s just that trusting. You should know, Mr.-tried-to-be-her-enemy-but-she-trusted-you-so-much-it’s-killing-you.

She cuts the tension with her Mishil act, and that calms him down as he tells her to stop watching sageuks. But he tells her to stop cooking, since she’s not going to that orphanage, ever! Once he leaves, she shouts back that SHE’s going to decide where she goes, without his permission! Then why are you shouting it when he’s gone?

Seol marches in to tell Yoon-ju that she’s going, and that’s that, no matter what Hae-young says. Yoon-ju’s like, yeah I’m the one who told you to go. She adds condescendingly that the princess ought to wear something pretty and go.

All of a sudden, Seol changes her mind. She realizes that Yoon-ju’s insistence that she go is the one indicator she can trust—that she shouldn’t go. Heh. At least you’re not that trusting a fool.

She decides to change the plan, and invites the children from the orphanage to the palace. She watches with happy tears in her eyes, as they run around and play, especially touched at the sight of two little girls running together hand-in-hand.

Hae-young goes to see Grandpa in a scene lit so drastically dark that it’s actually kind of funny. He asks about his father, wanting to believe that it’s some sort of misunderstanding, and that he couldn’t be responsible for the death of Seol’s father. Grandpa tells him that it’s what he might want to believe, but he’s certain that Hae-young’s dad is responsible.

Well at least that’s much more compelling as a reason for Hae-young to keep his distance from Seol, though it’s not a new plot, by any means. I’d like for once, to have a k-drama couple dig into their past and find out that their fathers were fishing buddies or something.

Yoon-ju, meanwhile, meets with Dan about the satchel. Yoon-ju out-bitches her in a round of you-show-me-yours, and overdoes it to the point that Dan storms out, with the declaration that Yoon-ju’s not the only one she can go to. Once she’s gone, Yoon-ju has her followed to figure out why she’s not the only game in town anymore.

Sure enough, Dan goes straight to Jung-woo, to tell him that she’s got the satchel. She presents it, and he nearly has an orgasm at the sight of it. He’s a little embarrassed at his er, love of history, but that’s the proof she needs to trust him with it, to at least find out the truth. She entrusts him with it to find out if it’s the real deal, adding for good measure that it’s hers. Like a little girl never stole something of her sisters and claimed it as her own? I really hope this isn’t going to be as obvious as it seems.

Seol reads Snow White to the kids, and Hae-young comes upon the scene and asks what’s going on. She says that since he told her not to go to the orphanage, she brought the kids here. He doesn’t really complain, until he finds out that she invited the President here too. Okay, maybe you ARE an idiot.

The second the President arrives, the so-called photo-op turns into an impromptu press conference, and Seol walks into it with trepidation, only NOW realizing what Hae-young was talking about. Gah.

They get fired with questions, and the President sits with ease, while Seol panics. Hae-young hesitates for a moment, and then steps in front of them to tell the reporters that there’s no political implication in the meeting, and extracts her before they can ask her any questions. Or at least before she can answer any.

Once out of earshot, she asks why he’s making such a fuss. Wait, so you STILL don’t understand what’s going on? Hae-young can’t believe it either, that she’s really so thoughtless that she doesn’t get the score. He spells it out for her: she’s being used.

He literally has to spell it out for her piece by piece, that the President is using her, at her expense and the orphanage. She finally gets it and stammers that she didn’t know, which he says is true, but she can’t get by not knowing these things anymore. Seriously. Well maybe since you know that she’s this naïve, you should do a better job of spelling these things out BEFORE she’s facing a firing squad of reporters.

He also has to spell out the implications of what he’s done, as a diplomat, in stepping in to save her. He tells her that she doesn’t realize what’s he’s put on the line for her. She gasps (it’s actually laughable that she has to be told every little thing before she gets it). She runs after him, but can’t bring herself to knock on his door.

Jung-woo gets word that the satchel is the real deal. Now comes the hard part of proving ownership.

Seol returns to her room, crying, and Hae-young broods. He finally makes a decision, and as the music swells, he walks down the hall towards Seol. Yoon-ju stops to ask if he’s crazy, doing that to the President, but he just brushes past her.

He knocks on Seol’s door, and when she answers, he comes out with it.

Hae-young: Let me ask you just one thing. Can’t you not be the princess? Is it really something you’d rather die than give up? Can’t you just not be a princess…and live as my woman instead?

O.M.G.

 
COMMENTS

Finally, a relationship gauntlet thrown! I was scared we were going to go yet another round of press conferences and Noble Idiocy. It’s high time the heroine get a dose of reality (even if it has to be spelled out for her like she’s a grade-schooler) and be given a real fork in the road—to choose between Hae-young and the throne.

Thankfully, there’s probably a bunch of different ways out than just those two roads, but it’s important for her to be given the dilemma, for the drama’s sake. At least now she’s got something real to choose between and fight for, if she knows how Hae-young feels, and what’s really at stake. Much, much better. Whew.

It’s admittedly a little frustrating that Seol is such a blockhead about the implications of every little thing she says and does, but I suppose that’s the point of her character, that’s she’s so naïve while everyone around her is so smart and tied to his/her own motivations.

But couldn’t she be like, a hair smarter, a teensy bit more aware, a tad quicker on the uptake? I like her unwavering trust and simplistic nature, but the stupidity is a little annoying. Especially since her character was made out to be so street-savvy in the beginning. Where’d all that resourcefulness go?

I’m happy with the direction we’re headed in, as long as Hae-young doesn’t pull an I’m-kidding-I-take-it-back or something, and as long as Seol begins to factor in all the pieces of the puzzle as she faces the big decisions. And would it hurt if you gave her another kiss to help sway her? ‘s all I’m sayin’.

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