“Got it.” Huian answered briefly, then bowed to Igang. “I’ll escort you to the hall.” Igang rose from his chair instead of answering.
The two went to the hall together and sat facing each other across the drinking table. Igang picked up the wine bottle and, pouring into Huian’s cup, said: “By the way, I hear you’re teaching the zither to Gwi-in.”
At that, Huian’s face showed a flicker of “oops.” He promptly knelt, then pressed his forehead to the floor in a formal bow. Straightening, he said carefully: “It’s thanks to the precious gift Your Highness sent me. But, Your Highness, I have something to say regarding that gift.”
From his expression, it didn’t look like he was about to say mere thanks.
“Just in case — if you’re about to say it’s too much for you to accept, don’t bother,” Igang said in a deliberately stern voice. Sure enough, Huian started to say something, then closed his mouth. Just as he thought. Igang clicked his tongue inwardly. Setting down the wine bottle he held with a clink, he asked: “What on earth is the problem? Why can’t you accept it — let me hear the reason.”
“…There is no other reason. As you say, it’s an excessively fine object for the likes of me–” “I told you not to say such things.” Igang cut him off. Huian bowed his head. “Forgive me.” Seeing him, his mood soured for no reason again. At last Igang sighed. “Look here, crown princess.”
“As I’ve said time and again, there is no object too fine for you. If even you call it too fine, it means no one in this world can own it. Understand? And I gave you that zither because I no longer need it. As I said, I no longer play the zither. That zither has been stuck away in storage for over three years now. But as you’ve seen, it’s a well-made instrument. It would be a waste to let such a fine instrument keep rotting in storage. It’d be wrong to the instrument, and to the craftsman who made it. So stop with such talk and just accept it.”
He’d spoken at length, but honestly he didn’t expect it to work. He’d surely refuse it anyway. Then what should he say to persuade him? Or maybe better to get angry and say he’d throw it away if he wouldn’t take it — hand it over.
It looked like he’d go home without a single sip from the wine table they’d barely brought in. Just as he sighed, staring at his empty cup–
“Understood. Then I’ll gratefully accept.” At Huian’s voice, showing no sign of long deliberation, the crown prince looked up. “What?” “You’ll accept?” At the flustered question, Huian began, looking slightly embarrassed: “To be honest…”
“I was determined never to accept it. Truly — it was too fine an instrument. But after playing it a few times, this zither produces a tone I’d never heard before, and while holding it to teach Son Gwi-in, my hands grew used to it… ‘I must return it, I must return it’ — but thinking I’d never touch it again once I returned it, I grew reluctant, and I was hesitating.” His face flushed little by little as he spoke, embarrassed. His uncharacteristically bashful manner was both new and endearing, and Igang chuckled, hand pressed to his own forehead.
“You’ve thought well.” “That zither is the crown princess’s now. Play it to your heart’s content.” As he smiled and spoke, Huian, still kneeling, bowed deeply. “I’ll gratefully accept it with a joyful heart.” “I’m glad the crown princess accepts it gladly.”
Saying this, Igang picked up his empty cup. “Ah,” Huian hurriedly picked up the wine bottle and began pouring. “Since I’ve received a precious gift, I’d like to give you something in return.” To Huian, speaking as he poured, Igang said with a wry smile: “A return gift? What nonsense.” “Using it well is the greatest return gift.” “But…” “Practice well and play me a tune sometime.” “That can’t be called a return gift.” “Why?” At Igang’s questioning look, Huian set down the wine bottle and said: “I was already of that mind before Your Highness said it.”
Obvious as it was, a smile spread across his face, feeling oddly proud and pleased for no reason. Igang picked up the cup before him, murmuring, “A return gift.” “Then I’ll think about that one slowly.” He nodded and tilted the cup. Draining it at once, he set the empty cup back on the table and said: “So, is Son Gwi-in learning well?”
“Yes. Perhaps because she enjoys it herself, she picks it up remarkably fast.” “Thanks to the crown princess teaching her well, no doubt.” “Son Gwi-in has talent. I’m only teaching her exactly as I learned from Ibu, in the same order.” At Huian’s modest addition, Igang said: “That’s exactly why it’s good teaching.” “Do you know how hard it is to remember even the order exactly and teach it as-is? Besides, I’ve learned the zither myself, so I know — that order is the most confusing and hardest part.”
Unaccustomed to praise, Huian bowed his head with a bashful face. “I’m overwhelmed.” Watching his uncharacteristically shy manner, a teasing impulse crept up again.
“Speaking of order, it reminds me,” Igang said, filling his own empty cup. “The consummation rite is in two days — do you know the order of it?”
“Yes…?” His eyes widened at the abrupt change of topic, but only for a moment; soon Huian answered: “Yes, I know it.” “I heard that when the royal chef brings up the food, first I must place the pickled leeks, millet, foxtail millet, rice, and sorghum among them into the ritual vessels in order and offer the rite. Then, when the royal chef pours the wine, I share it with Your Highness and drink.”
To Huian, who looked at him as if asking “Is that right?”, Igang said with a smiling face: “I’m talking about the order after that.” “…I haven’t learned that yet. Forgive me.” Looking at the softly apologizing Huian, Igang nodded. “I see.” Raising his cup, he said in a deliberately grave voice: “Learn it well. It’s very difficult.” “The order is complicated, and since it’s usually something no one’s ever done, everyone struggles the first time–”
Huian looked at a loss for words. He only pressed his lips together and looked down at the cup before him. But seeing his Adam’s apple bobbing greatly and his eyelashes trembling slightly, Igang began to regret having delayed the consummation rite yet again. He should have delayed it just two or three days at most — what pleasure had he been hoping for, pushing it back ten whole days?
On the other hand, this impatient self felt strange to him. To be desperate to share a bed soon — of all things. In Jebi’s and Sinbi’s time, it was unthinkable. Even when he had first come to know women and was eagerly learning the delights of the bedchamber, it hadn’t been like this.
Probably it was curiosity. Igang decided, looking at the man sitting before him. Because he was always so calm and composed, almost indifferent at a glance, he was curious whether he’d keep that composure in bed too — he wanted to know that, which was why he was longing so desperately for the wedding night. Once he’d experienced it himself, he wouldn’t be this curious anymore.
Yes, surely that was it, he thought, reaching for the wine bottle–
“…difficult?” Huian mumbled something. It was too quiet to catch, so Igang stopped, bottle in hand, and asked: “What did you just say?”
When asked to say it again, Huian hesitated a moment, then said, a little louder than before: “Is it… very difficult?”
Igang nearly spilled the wine. Managing to fill the cup without spilling, he set the bottle down and said briefly: “That depends on the person, doesn’t it.”
“…” Huian closed his mouth again. Silently looking down at the cup before him, his face was already full of worry. Seeing that utterly troubled expression, Igang felt his throat go dry for no reason. If his heart had its way, he’d throw him down right now and teach him himself — but he couldn’t. And he shouldn’t, either.
He knew that, but watching him, other thoughts kept creeping in — he felt he might do something rash in a moment of carelessness. In the end Igang lifted the cup before him, drained it at once, set it down with a clink, and said: “I’ll be going now.”
“Now… you mean?” Huian’s eyes widened at the abrupt words. It was understandable — barely ten minutes since the drinking table had been brought in. “I need to look over the documents for tomorrow’s morning audience.” Making a vague excuse, he rose; Huian rose too. “Don’t come out. Stay as you are.”
Despite Igang’s restraint, Huian came down below the main hall and, heedless even of his sleepwear, walked to the main gate to see him off. “Go safely, Your Highness.” “Go inside.”
With a brief farewell, Igang went out the gate, walked a couple of steps, then turned back. Seeing that dignified figure silently watching him, attendants in tow, a smile crept up for no reason. Lest Yuyeong beside him notice, Igang deliberately raised his voice and called out to Huian: “Don’t worry too much. It’s hard at first, but you get better with practice.”
At the crown prince’s out-of-the-blue words, everyone stood bewildered, wondering what this was about, while only the crown princess looked mortified alone and quickly avoided his gaze. Igang turned away, firmly suppressing the laughter threatening to escape.
“What did those words just now mean?” Yuyeong hurried after him and asked. Toward his strategist, who was clearly thinking all sorts of things alone — had His Highness devised some new scheme, had he decided to draw in the crown princess to speed things along — Igang said in a deliberately grave voice:
“That’s nothing a widower needs to know — pay it no mind.”
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