Drama Addict Extraordina

📝 Review (WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I’m Not Saving You from Emotional Damage)

Let me start by saying this: I love older K-dramas. I love the toxic tropes, the melodrama that makes telenovelas look subtle, the fashion disasters, the emotional blackmail, the villains with eyeliner — all of it. I sign up for the chaos. I thrive in the chaos.
But Princess Hours?
This show tested me.
This show put my patience in a chokehold and whispered, “You thought you were strong, didn’t you?”

THE FL: Bold of Them to Call This ‘Character Development’
People online will swear up and down that Yoon Eun-hye “carried the show.”
Carried what, exactly?
Certainly not a brain cell. Not an ounce of growth. Not a glimmer of critical thinking.
Chae-gyeong spends 24 episodes being a professional crier, a runway model for crimes-against-fashion outerwear, and the world’s densest human. There’s naïve, and then there’s: “girl, at this point even Dora the Explorer would ask you to look again.”
Also, I was over her constant apologizing after the 10th time. I swear even wallpaper has shown more emotional evolution. The only thing Chae-gyeong truly grew in this series was her wardrobe. Congratulations, lady, you leveled up your coats.

THE ML: A Certified Jerk, but at Least a Jerk Who Learned Something
Ju Ji-hoon starts this drama with the interpersonal warmth of a refrigerator and the communication skills of one too.
But — credit where it’s due — the man actually grows.
He thaws. He self-reflects. He attempts to communicate like a sentient being instead of a royal gargoyle.
He was insufferable… but he was growingly insufferable, which is more than 90% of this cast can claim.

LEE YOON-JI AS PRINCESS HYE-MYEONG: THE ONLY SANITY I HAD LEFT
The moment I realized this punk-rock menace was Noh Soo-an from My Demon, I almost choked.
Watching her go from anxious mom-of-twins to “internationally chaotic princess who escapes the palace like she’s breaking out of prison” was the emotional treat I needed.
She deserved more screen time. Frankly, she deserved her own drama.

YUL: SECOND LEAD SYNDROME? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I’D RATHER CATCH A VIRUS
This headline stays. Forever.
I almost never get second lead syndrome, but here? Not only did I not catch it, I vaccinated myself against it.
This man comes home after fourteen years like:
“Hi. You were promised to me when we were children. I am now entitled to your entire existence.”
Sir. That is not romantic. That is not sweet. That is not fate.
That is a restraining order waiting to happen.
He is a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal with emotional issues.
The fact that Chae-gyeong never once paused to question his behavior? Ma’am. MA’AM. Borrow one brain cell. ONE.
And yes — I disliked him more than Hyo-rin. At least Hyo-rin’s disaster energy had a little sparkle.
Then he states he’s going to leave with Chae-gyeong… but I don’t ever recall her agreeing, or reciprocating his feelings!?!?!?!?

THE KING: WORST FATHER. WORST MONARCH. WORST EVERYTHING
The man looks at his actual son like he’s allergic to him, but practically polishes Yul’s shoes with his tears.
Useless as a ruler, pathetic as a parent, and every scene he appeared in made me want to yeet him off the palace balcony.
He ruled the palace with the emotional maturity of a toddler losing at Mario Kart.
If pouting were an Olympic sport, he’d have brought home gold for Korea.
He looks at Shin like he’s the dust under his throne and then turns to Yul as if he personally invented the boy.
This wasn’t fatherly affection — this was a man stuck in his own personal fanfiction.

THE QUEEN MOTHER: OLDEST MEAN GIRL IN THE PALACE
Her entire personality is: “I disapprove of everything.”
She contributed nothing except rigid posture and negativity.
Honestly, replace her with a large decorative vase and I might not notice.

THE QUEEN REGENT: MY UNPROBLEMATIC QUEEN
Clueless? Yes.
Soft? Yes.
Occasionally the only source of serotonin in this palace of misery? Also yes.
Love her. Protect her. Give her cookies and a therapy session.

CHAE-GYEONG’S FAMILY: ADORABLE UNTIL THEY WEREN’T
Their comedy relief moments hit early on, but they fizzled fast.
At some point I just nodded and let them exist in the background like neutral NPCs.

YUL’S MOTHER: ENTITLEMENT LEVEL – SUPERVILLAIN
The woman was exiled for cheating, but acts like everyone else is the problem.
She spends the entire show asking, “How can I ruin a teenager’s life so my son can cosplay as a king?”
I wanted to slap my screen every time she opened her mouth.
She even escalates to… attempted murder. Thailand? Regicide schemes? Yes, yes, and yes.
Peak villain energy. Absolute audacity. But karma is served hot — she eventually gets her comeuppance, and watching the palace finally flip her script is the only thing that gave me some satisfaction.

THE REAL PROBLEM: TOO MUCH SML/SFL, NOT ENOUGH ACTUAL ROMANCE
This show could’ve been fire — iconic, legendary, rewatch-classic fire.
Instead, it drowned itself in:

* Miscommunications
* More miscommunications
* Excessive SML/SFL screentime
* Yul lurking
* Hyo-rin gliding
* Political plotting no one asked for
** Meanwhile, Shin and Chae-gyeong’s relationship was treated like a side quest.

The Cheating Arc(s): Thailand? Seriously?!
The cheating plotlines were so wild I needed ibuprofen, an inhaler, and possibly a clergy member.
Thailand felt like the writers said, “Hey, let’s fling the ML into a tropical guilt spiral for NO REASON.”
Then pair that with the FL and Yul scenes — the emotional adultery Olympic trials — and I genuinely considered rage-pausing the episode.

Every moment with those two felt like:
* Misunderstandings
* Unnecessary hand-holding
* The world’s slowest manipulation attempt
* That soft music cue that whispers, “Someone here is lying, but shh, let’s make it pretty.”
* My temples still hurt.

THE MUSIC: Surprisingly a Little Magic
The instrumentals are a fascinating Celtic-Korean fusion — like someone thought, “Let’s make palace melodrama feel epic and timeless, even when everyone’s being completely ridiculous.”
And then there are the occasional catchy tunes that sneak in like little auditory candy. You don’t even realize you’re humming along while glaring at the screen because Yul just did something terrible.
It doesn’t fix the chaos, but it makes every emotional meltdown feel stylishly tragic.

Four Special Sections (a.k.a. Where the Real Fun Begins)
1. Scenes That Aged Like Milk
“Promised to me since childhood” entitlement arc
Yul lurking
Adults blaming teenagers for their marital problems
The monarchy’s obsession with meddling
Every “let’s separate them so they can learn to love each other” plot device
Sour. Spoiled. Throw it out.

2. Scenes That Aged Like Vintage Wine
Shin’s painfully slow emotional thaw
Princess Hye-myeong being a punk princess powerhouse — basically the Korean Diana, without the Charles-level drama
Any moment where the leads accidentally understood each other
The rare domestic scenes where they mutually behaved like humans
The final few emotional breakthroughs (worth their weight in gold)
The friends on each side — quietly loyal, snarky when needed, and the only people in this palace of chaos who actually act like functioning humans
Still magical. Still rewatchable. Still the reason the show almost works.

3. What Would’ve Fixed the Plot Without Breaking the 2006 Formula
Give Shin/Chae-gyeong at least 30% more screen time together
Cut Yul’s creepy stalker arc in half (or just cut him; I’m flexible)
Reduce the cheating plot from “WHY ARE WE DOING THIS?” to “okay that hurt but it narratively tracks”
Give the King a spine or remove him from the chessboard entirely
Let the women have one — just ONE — honest conversation that isn’t dripping in manipulation
That alone would’ve elevated this show from “I need therapy” to “rewatch classic.”

4. This Should’ve Been 16 Episodes, Not 24 Super-Stretched Noodles
The plot was basically:
Ep 1–12: “We don’t like each other but also maybe we do?”
Ep 13–20: “Misunderstandings but make them EXHAUSTING”
Ep 21–24: “Speed-run the actual romance before the credits roll”

That’s why it feels like a hostage situation at times.
They had a beautiful 16-episode romance, but stretched it like dough until it tore.
And we sat there like loyal clowns watching it happen.

Final Verdict
Episode 23? Solid. I actually liked it — the friends on both sides added some much-needed relief.
Episode 24? I felt a smidge of sympathy for Yul… but only a smidge. He’s still a snake, still manipulative, still entirely unworthy of our forgiveness.
Did I scream? Yes.
Did I hate-watch? Absolutely.
Did I roll my eyes so hard I saw my past lives? More than once.
Will I watch it again? …Probably. Because I’m trash for mid-2000s melodrama, and this show is basically junk food you know is terrible but eat anyway at 2AM.