The Closed Country

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Seria says: "Nothing should be as mysterious as I am!" Some info is missing, please help to provide it if you can.

The Closed Country 1

Old Man: Koff, koff...

The sound of dry coughs fills the quiet space. Without saying a word, the old man wipes his mouth with a white cloth.
Hemoptysis. The white cloth is now stained red here and there. The woman by his side is on the verge of tears.

Woman: Your Majesty...

This isn't the first time he's coughed up blood. It's been happening for a while, once or even twice a week.
It's just become more frequent recently, once every two days—actually, once every day—that's all.

Old Man: I'm okay.

Woman: But...

The King dismisses her concern in a dry, stern voice. But she can't stop worrying. He sounds frail and hoarse. The sickly yellow tone of his skin is getting sallower by the day.
Having been his doctor for a long time, the woman can tell his condition is worse than ever.

Old Man: I'm attending Court. Get ready.

Woman: Your Majesty, I strongly recommend you rest instead.

The King glares at her. She stares back unflinchingly, expressing her disapproval with her eyes. The King feels his resolution weaken under her gaze.
He's not happy. My own doctor thinks I'm weak! And why does she make me doubt my decision?
He's been through worse in his many years as king. This, a bit of a health setback, is nothing. He coughed up some blood. So what?

Old Man: I said, I'm attending Court. Get ready!

The King roars, and the woman decides to give in. She knows she can't change his mind when he's being this stubborn. She also doesn't want to upset him and aggravate his condition.
Looking at the court ladies who hurriedly walk into the King's chamber, the Royal Doctor sighs and laments inwardly.

Woman: Ah, what do I do?

The court room is filled as usual, with the courtiers lining up the center aisle on either side, waiting for the King. He walks to the throne sitting atop the dais at the back of the room and sits down. It doesn't take long before he catches onto the unusual atmosphere in the room.
The heaviness in the air. The anxious glances that his subjects exchange with each other. It's the same wariness that he's detected from his doctor earlier in his bedchamber. Even his long-trusted subjects are treating him like a frail, useless man.
Anger rises in him. He jumps up from the throne, glaring at the courtiers standing in rows in front of him. None of them would make eye contact.

Old Man: (How dare you?)

The King angrily flaps his sleeves, flopping back down onto the throne. Some of the courtiers flinch at the noise and avert their eyes anxiously. But the awkward atmosphere continues. The heaviness in the air doesn't dissipate. Neither does the anxious look in the courtiers' eyes.
The King ponders. It's not like he doesn't understand why his subjects are being this way. He himself also has been alarmed by the quickening deterioration of his health.
But unlike them, he can't show his worries. He's the king of this country. He must stay stronger than anyone else, to keep them together. If he grows weak, so will his country. If he falls, so will his people.
Or so he believes. It's what's motivated him to stay strong all these years. His subjects know this, and perhaps that's why they've been unhappy about what's transpired recently.

Elder: Your Majesty, your doctor told us you're unwell. Please, you need to take some rest.

A-ha, he knew it! She couldn't stop him on her own, so she came here to tell on him to everyone!
That fox! He's going to have words with her as soon as possible. But first, he's going to deal with the courtiers. Having decided that, he stands up.

Old Man: Listen!

Suddenly, the world turns upside-down. The floor comes rushing at him as if he's falling from the sky. His vision is filled with the red silk carpeting the floor.

Elder: Your Majesty! Are you okay!?

Civil Servant: Is anyone out there? Come here and help His Majesty!

The voices of his subjects grow distant and faint.
Aah... What's happening to me? I'm the country itself...
If I fall, so will this country. If it falls, so will I. Not now—not yet!

Elder: Your Majesty! Please wake up!

That is the last thing the King hears before he loses consciousness.
The chamber is filled with silence. The situation that the Royal Doctor dreaded has happened. Looking pained, she checks the unconscious King's pulse.
She's devastated. She should have insisted that she go with him.
Everyone else in the Palace is dumbstruck. The courtiers who saw their king fall are lying prostrate outside his chamber. The Palace staff who have heard the news are holding their breath, waiting for their king to regain consciousness. Even the young court attendants who are barely out of kindergarten breathe shallowly, lest they disturb the unusual quietness that surrounds the Palace like a shroud.
About fifteen minutes later, the Royal Doctor senses the King's pulse grow stronger. But it can mean anything. Pulses fluctuate all the time. At this rate...

Woman: (No, not yet.)

The Doctor shakes her head violently, as if to get rid of her negative thoughts. I'm not going to let that happen. Never.

Old Man: I'm okay now.

A dry voice penetrates her fog of thoughts.
The King has woken up. The Royal Doctor quickly lets go of his wrist and steps back, prostrating in front of him.

Old Man: No, you don't have to tell me.

Woman: Your Majesty...

He speaks in a decidedly calm voice. The Royal Doctor starts sobbing. Ah... What do I do!? She wails inwardly.
The senior members of Court ask for permission to enter the chamber. They must have heard he's awake. The King allows them to come in and sits up with help. The elders see this as they enter the room and quickly prostrate, sobbing.

Old Man: Everyone, raise your head.

Everyone sits up and busies themselves adjusting their form, but the look in their eyes shows the anxiety and devastation that they're feeling.
Yes, I know. The King empathizes with them. I'm devastated, too... but I can't deny this truth any longer.

Old Man: It's been a long time.

Past events pass through his mind. He ruled his country by justice, fairness, and benevolence, and loved his people with all his heart.
A great many scholars and warriors have sworn loyalty to him and died for him. They've been his weapon against relentless threats from other countries. They've made sure his people lived in safety, prosperity, and peace. Under his reign, no one has suffered from hunger or injustice.
He's been a great king, but even he has regrets. He sacrificed much to accomplish his goals. He shed blood and tears and endured great suffering. All these regrets weigh heavily in his chest.

Old Man: I've always been stubborn. Thank you for bearing with me so far.
It's been a long time. I've gained a lot and lost as much. This is it. This is as far as I can go.

The King pauses to gather his breath, and then resumes his speech.

Old Man: This is it for me. Now... It's her turn.

Alarmed by his statement, everyone lies flat to the floor and starts wailing.

Subjects: Your Majesty, please retract your words!

The old king looks at them with calm eyes. For all their lives, he's been the only master that they've known.
He understands their anxiety and insecurity, and that's exactly why he can't put this off any longer.

Old Man: I don't have much time left. I want to leave with no regrets behind.

No one dares object. Not just because of the determined tone of his voice, but because they all know he's right.
Now it's time we let our king go...

Old Man: I want to bring in the First Princess. She's such a carefree spirit that it won't be easy to find her, or bring her back, even if she's found.
But I don't have time to wait for her. I want one of you to go bring her back on my behalf.

No one volunteers. It's true. It won't be easy to find the First Princess, or bring her back, and none of them are confident in their ability to do so.
The fearless warlords are just as reluctant as the wise scholars.
A long, awkward silence fills the chamber. The King is about to speak and break the silence when a clear voice interjects.

Woo, the Royal Messenger

???: I will go, Your Majesty.

The King and everyone else turn their heads toward the voice. A beautiful woman with a semi-transparent veil covering the lower part of her face is standing with a fan in her hand.

Old Man: You're the teacher of the First Princess.

The King recognizes her. The woman gently bows to the King, and then identifies herself.

Woo: I'm Woo, Your Majesty.

In Suju, one's teachers are revered as sacred. Even the most tyrannical king treated his teachers with utmost respect and listened to their advice, no matter how harsh.
The First Princess rejected all the famous scholars who were recommended to her and personally requested this woman to be her teacher. If anyone could bring her back, it'd be her.
The King nods and issues an order in a voice that sounds stronger and clearer than before.

Old Man: Listen, everyone.

Subjects: Yes, Your Majesty.

Old Man: Get a coach ready for the Princess's Master and see that she wants for nothing in her search for the First Princess.

Subjects: As you wish, Your Majesty.

The King moves to Woo and nods his head as a way of expressing respect.

Old Man: Princess's Master, please listen. I don't have much time left.
I plead with you to bring her back as soon as you can.

Woo speaks without hesitation, her eyes glowing with determination.

Woo: I will, Your Majesty.