The 23rd year of Geonheung, Juwon.
On a night when the rain poured down in sheets, a eunuch ran heedlessly through the driving rain. Slipping on the rain-slicked path, falling and rising and falling again, he finally reached Wonnyeong Palace, set in the very heart of the inner court — the palace where the Empress resided.
“What business at this hour of the night.”
The matron frowned at the eunuch who came running as though his breath would give out. She had been descending the stone steps, meaning to give him a sound scolding, when the words he whispered secretly into her ear stopped her feet cold, as though turned to stone.
The matron slipped off her shoes, stepped up into the main hall, and strode swiftly down the corridor. Through the corridor, silent as death, she made for the innermost room of the main hall, where at last a tightly shut door stood before her.
“Your Majesty.”
Lowering her voice as far as it would go, the matron addressed the Empress within.
“Her Highness the Crown Princess has just now breathed her last, I am told.”
After a moment’s silence, the Empress spoke.
“So it has come to that in the end.”
At the tail of a soft sigh, a man’s hardened voice was heard.
“And His Highness the Crown Prince — how is he?”
It was Minister Jo, the Empress’s elder brother. The matron answered him in a tone more careful still than the one she had used with the Empress.
“It seems he does not yet know the news. Though by now, word may well have reached him.”
Neither the Empress nor the minister spoke. At length, the Empress broke the heavy silence with a loud click of her tongue.
“What a dreadful business, in the dead of night.”
She clicked her tongue again and again as if in sympathy, but there was little feeling in her voice.
“Very well. I shall inform His Majesty myself.”
“Understood.”
The matron bowed low and withdrew.
Once the shadow beyond the door had vanished, the Empress looked at her brother seated before her and said,
“It seems she has just drawn her last breath.”
“So it seems.”
“The prince is to be pitied. To lose two brides already.”
Minister Jo stroked his beard. “Indeed.”
“And all within a mere three years. I fear for His Majesty’s health. And tongues are already wagging among the people. Three years ago it was the first time, so all were full of pity — but this is already the second. They’ll say the Crown Prince has lost his virtue—”
“Brother. Are you slandering the Crown Prince to my face?”
The Empress spoke, propping one arm on the low desk. Minister Jo hastily bowed his head.
“Forgive me. I misspoke.”
When he raised his head again, the Empress was smiling at her brother. Minister Jo smiled back at his sister.
“For now, I think comforting His Highness the Crown Prince, who must be grieving above all, comes first.”
“Ah, the poor boy.” The Empress sighed deeply. But she showed no sign of wiping the smile away.
***
At the same hour, several eunuchs arrived at Gihyeon Palace, where Crown Prince Ju Igang resided. They had attended the Crown Princess at Inyeong Palace; the moment they reached the prince’s palace, they prostrated themselves and began wailing aloud.
Lee Chi, second captain of the guard, at once reported the facts to Yu Yeong of the central secretariat. Yu Yeong ran straight for the study where the prince was.
It was well past the third watch, nearing the fourth, yet the study was still lamplit. The prince had been in his study since the evening before. According to Attendant Song, he was copying texts by hand.
“Attendant Song, come out.”
Song Naegwan, who stood guard before the study, widened his eyes at Yu Yeong’s call.
“What in the world is so urgent—”
“Your Highness.”
Brushing past Attendant Song, Yu Yeong stepped to the door and spoke low through the half-open gap, as if whispering.
“You must go to Inyeong Palace at once, I believe.”
The prince gave no answer. Surely he couldn’t not know.
Yu Yeong peered discreetly through the door gap: the prince was still at his copying, brush in hand. For all he called it copying, he barely glanced at the book spread on the desk. By guess, he was transcribing Jang Ryuhyeon’s Twenty-four Articles of Sacred Governance. Jang Ryuhyeon had been the prince’s tutor when he was still a royal son; during his tenure as grand tutor he had written the Twenty-four Articles for the princes — that a ruler must know benevolence and righteousness, practice the Way, and bestow good governance.
Growing impatient, Yu Yeong raised his voice once more.
“Wait.”
At last the prince answered. Without stopping his brush, he went on.
“For all your hurrying, the dead don’t come back to life.”
Yu Yeong was taken aback. Not that the prince already knew of the Crown Princess’s passing — at this hour, there could be only one reason to rush to Inyeong Palace. It was three months now since the pregnant Crown Princess had taken to her bed, and for ten days the physicians had half given up, so word of her passing would surprise no one at any hour. What startled Yu Yeong was rather the prince’s utter composure, knowing of his princess’s death. Finishing the copying before his eyes seemed to matter more to him than the princess he had loved.
Only after half a gak did the prince finally set down his brush. Scanning his transcription of the Twenty-four Articles with a satisfied expression, he washed his hands in the water Attendant Seung brought, and only then left the study.
“The rain shows no sign of stopping.”
Murmuring indifferently, he passed the wailing eunuchs and headed straight for Inyeong Palace. All who had attended the Crown Princess knelt in the front courtyard, weeping aloud. Without sparing them a glance, the prince entered the palace. Yu Yeong, following behind with Lee Chi, stopped short. The Empress was just emerging from the Crown Princess’s room. One corner of the prince’s mouth rose silently. Only then did Yu Yeong realize why he had insisted on finishing his copying to the very end before coming. He hadn’t wanted to run into the Empress. More precisely—
“Prince. How great your grief must be.”
—it was this he hadn’t wanted to see.
“To suffer such a calamity twice in three years. Even once in a lifetime would break body and soul — how, twice…”
Lamenting loudly as if for all the world to hear, the Empress covered her face with her sleeve and sobbed. Raising her head again, she addressed the prince in a grave tone.
“This is surely no ordinary matter. His Majesty too is seeking the cause by every means — just a little—”
“What cause could there be.”
The prince cut the Empress off shortly.
“It is all my own lack of virtue.”
“What words are these.”
The Empress composed her face.
“Strictly speaking, is this not a matter of the inner palace? Then it is my own lack of virtue that is at fault.”
The prince gazed steadily at the Empress’s face, then smiled faintly.
“Quite. That seems right.”
With that brief reply, he walked past her before her expression could change.
Yu Yeong and Lee Chi, knees weak, didn’t dare look back, hurrying after the prince to the Crown Princess’s bedchamber.
“Your Highness.”
The physician prostrated himself, wailing his boundless guilt.
“It is all this one’s failure. I shall gladly accept whatever punishment.”
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