Chapter 11: The Emperor's Women

In the summer of 2015,  Lee Hyuk and I were married in a simple ceremony, a far cry from his lavish wedding to the late Empress So Hyun in 2007.

Then, the nation celebrated for three days and three nights, and a host of distinguished guests - kings, queens, presidents and prime ministers - from all over the world were invited. Free concerts were held all over, and people thronged the streets and partied until the wee hours of the morning, as firecrackers lit up the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours and an explosion of sound and light.

My wedding was a vast contrast.

How well I remember that day: the warmth of the sun as I lifted my face to the sky, the soft breeze that stirred the sleeves of my bridal hanbok, making them flutter in the wind, the smell of roses in the air and the trees bursting with leaves, as I stood on the steps of the palace with my husband beside me, the diamond ring heavy upon my finger, catching fire in the sun. I had no inkling of what lay ahead of me then, and the pale blue sky, cloudless and clear without a single dark cloud or the slightest hint of rain, signalled only good days ahead.

In truth, I had wanted a grand fairytale wedding, and I remember how disappointed I felt when he said, "I suppose you want a grand wedding with ten bridesmaids and ten flower girls and that sort of thing, but I've gone through all of that before and I'd really like a simple wedding...",  I made a cheerful face and hastened to reassure him that it was perfect, I didn't mind at all, a grand wedding was such a hassle, and exhausting as well - why, I would be a nervous wreck if our wedding turned out to be a long, complicated affair.

But the truth was that I felt sad that my wedding was to be a quiet, and some would even say, a rushed affair, with hardly any dignitaries present from abroad, and only the cabinet ministers invited, and family and friends, my tiny circle of relations, and his mother, the Empress Dowager Kang, and his sister, Princess So Jin, older than him by two years, her husband, General Lee Shin Yang, and their five-year-old daughter, Princess Ari. "What about your other relations?" I asked, and he shrugged and said, "I have a younger brother, Yoon, but he's living abroad in the US and not likely to come to the wedding. Let's just keep it simple; the sooner the wedding is over, the sooner we can go for our honeymoon - France, Venice, Europe, wherever you want to go...we'll hire a car and drive ourselves; I know Europe like the back of my hand, and I know you'll love it..." 

What did it matter if he had never once said that he loved me, never once spoken of being in love with me? He was ten years older than me; at 34, he was a man of the world, far more honest, far more genuine than a younger man whose passionate avowals of undying love bordered on the dramatic and the theatrical, or so I told myself, and a thought suddenly came into my head, unbidden, unwelcome, a serpent in my Garden of Eden: what must it have been like for him the first time, eight years ago, when he asked So Hyun to marry him? Had he been eager and incoherent with love, promising the world to her with adoration in his eyes, his voice shaking, trembling with emotion? I thought to myself, I must not think of that, he loves me now, he surely does, or he would not have asked me to marry him. Chloe's voice echoed mockingly in my head, "That huge palace is getting on his nerves...don't kid yourself that he's fallen for you..." and I shut it out, that hateful voice, and said aloud to my reflection in the mirror, "I must never think about that, never, never, never."

We honeymooned in Europe for four blissful weeks, which flew by swiftly as I sat by his side, and we drove through France and Italy, and I thought only of how much I loved him, exchanging smiles with him, cuddling close to him, uncaring of the past or the future, living only for the present, and his intoxicating presence beside me, this man whom I first knew as a kind stranger, this man now my husband, my friend and my lover, youthful, ardent and tender, who took my hand in his, and laughed and sang and wore no frown between his brows and no burden on his shoulders.

In July, we returned to the palace. All the self-confidence that I had accumulated during my brief four weeks of marriage dissipated, and a sick feeling began to build up in my stomach, tightening into a knot of anxiety and desperation as the minutes of the clock ticked, and Time moved relentlessly forward. The crowds that thronged the airport blurred into a hazy, unreal fog of excited, disembodied voices and flickering camera flashes as I clung onto Hyuk's hand and was ushered into the waiting limousine. We were finally off, on the last leg of our journey home, back to the Grand Palace, the ancestral abode of past emperors and empresses, the palace that was home to my husband, the Emperor, sitting beside me, waving regally and smiling at the crowds of curious well-wishers that had lined the streets, eager to catch a glimpse of the new Empress. I sat bolt upright in my seat, next to Hyuk, and waved back mechanically, like a wound-up toy, on and on, never tiring, never pausing, and plastered a smile upon my lips, a false, strained smile, a dreadful smile that hurt my face and the muscles of my cheeks, and I said to myself, keep waving, don't stop waving; keep smiling, don't stop smiling, and the car passed the throng of people, the neverending stream of people, everywhere, at every turn, at every corner, they were there, men, women and children, smiling, staring, looking silently at me; and the wave of excitement, the flutter of expectation followed us, and all of a sudden, the cloud of hazy unreality that I had cloaked myself in dissolved, and I started to tremble in nervous dread: I was unprepared, and would make a fool of myself, and Hyuk would regret that he had married me, and the thought of his disapproval and disappointment made me draw in my breath sharply, and I wished, for one wild moment, that none of this had happened, that I was alone, going to work, safe and unknown,  or taking a walk by myself in the evening to the convenience store at the corner and buying myself an ice lolly and on it, the wetness and stickiness dribbling all over my mouth and my fingers, and no one would care, no one would bother, I would walk right on, anonymous and unknown, a figure in the dark, going somewhere, alone, in the dark, and no one would look at me twice, no one would stare, no one would whisper, no one would laugh.

I sat miserably, and nibbled at my fingernails and stopped myself, a hot flush of shame rising upon my cheeks: what if someone, one of those people standing and staring, had seen what I had done, the new Empress displaying her utter lack of dignity, so crudely, so blatantly in public? I cringed as I imagined pictures of me savaging my fingernails hogging the front pages of the newspapers the next day, and a little moan escaped me. Hyuk turned, and pressed my hand in a swift, comforting gesture, and smiled at me, and said, "Are you nervous? Don't be. Everyone just wants to see what you look like. They've probably been talking about you for weeks. Just be yourself, and they'll adore you." He took my hand and kissed it and I felt a rush of love, and I thought, I love him so much, and I will try my best, my very best, to be a good wife and an Empress that he can be proud of; I would drift serenely amongst the dignitaries and the foreign officials and the important guests that thronged the palace, and they would whisper, "Oh, she's so charming, far more than the other one..." and I would turn away, pretending that I had not heard. I felt a rush of confidence all of a sudden, and a new excitement. I was married to the man I loved; how wonderful it was, how happy I was going to be. I belonged here, with him by my side, and we were going home - my home now, and it mattered not whether it was a tiny cottage or a grand palace, for home was where he was, home was where he belonged, and I belonged, too, right with him, right next to him.

I had been to the palace but once, on the day of my wedding, and that too, had been hurried and quick, for no sooner had we gone through the rituals than we were off to catch the flight to London for our honeymoon, and I could hardly remember what the palace was like, the day of the wedding having passed in a hazy, dreamy blur. The one and only time that I had been formally introduced to the Empress Dowager was at one of the royal country homes, a mansion on the outskirts of the city, far from the prying eyes of the public. Hyuk had arranged a lunch for my family and me to meet the Empress Dowager, and it had been an awkward affair, with my father and sister silent throughout the meal, for the Empress Dowager was a formidable woman, frosty and dignified, her eyes flicking over me, devoid of expression . She had sent valuable gifts of jewellery and expensive presents to me, but after that one disastrous lunch, she had never invited me back, and I was relieved. Hyuk did not press the issue, and that was that; she had not opposed the marriage, but neither had she shown any interest in it. I made up my mind that I would be a good daughter-in-law, and told myself that things would get better in time, and that she would grow to love me. I was young and foolish and hopeful then, and if anyone had told me then that she hated me from the first moment that she laid eyes on me, and that no woman would ever be good enough for her son, whom she loved with all the love that she could summon from that frozen, stony heart of hers, I would have scoffed and laughed at such a preposterous notion.

"We're almost there now," Hyuk said, and his face was different, animated somehow, and he leaned forward slightly in his seat. I had never seen him like this before. I looked at the eagerness in his eyes, and the pride on his face, and I realized with startling clarity how much he loved his home, and how proud he was of it.

The roads that had twisted and turned for the longest stretch of time had narrowed into a drive that dipped down into a valley, and all of a sudden, the trees were upon us on both sides, their branches thickly entwined and so tightly interlaced with leaves that the midday sun had difficulty piercing the canopy, so that the stubborn shafts of sunlight that succeeded in penetrating the armour of foliage fell in chequered patterns on the drive ahead of us, making the drive flicker and shimmer intermittently with warm light, pattering it with fluttering, shifting patches of gold. We went over a narrow bridge that arched over a pretty gurgling stream and fallen stumps of mossy logs nestled within the low shrubs beside the stream, and turned a corner, and we were in a clearing. The trees thinned, and I saw a clear patch of blue sky; we drove through a stone arch and I saw it, just ahead of us: the Grand Palace, a thing of beauty and majesty and grace. It stood, exquisite and splendid, its heavy iron gates wide open, the royal insignia crafted in gleaming gold high up on the gates, one on each side, surrounded by green lawns in front and at the sides, and, beyond that, the gardens and the lake and the gentle hills and terraces that sloped all the way to the valleys beneath, and I closed my eyes and thought, this is it, this is my new home, and a new chapter of my life begins today.

I sat upright, and tried frantically to recall the snippets of conversation Hyuk and I had had on the flight back.

"Mrs. Kim is the Chief of Royal Housekeeping. She's in charge of the rooms and the royal kitchen and the palace maids," he had said. "She's been with us very long. Her husband died a few years ago, and she doesn't have any children. She's a nice lady, and you'll like her. If you have any problems, just ask her."

"My mother," he had said, frowning a little, "She can be quite intimidating, as you know, but when you get to know her, you'll find that she's all right. Just stand up to her, and she'll respect you."

"My sister, So Jin, divides her time between the palace and her house," he had continued. "She has her own place with her husband, General Lee Shin Yang - he's a general, and a very upright, army-ish kind of man, but Ari, their daughter, lives in the palace with her nanny. My mother dotes on her and spoils her dreadfully; they're very close, Ari and her grandmother, and my mother insists on her getting a proper royal education from the royal tutors."

"Then there's Yoon, my younger brother. He's 24, like you," he had said, smiling faintly. "You'd get along fine with him. Yoon likes to do his own thing, he hates the palace, and he just wants to be a commoner, so my mother and him are at loggerheads all the time. He's in New York now, and he wants to be a writer - but I guess you'll see him soon, since he's wished us the best, and sent us that ugly antique vase as a wedding present, and says that he'll be coming home to meet you just as soon as he's free."

As we drove up to the wide stone steps and stopped before the open door, I saw that the courtyard was filled with a huge crowd of people, and the hall inside was packed with a long queue of people, as well. The driver opened the car door and bowed, and I stepped out nervously. 

"It's all right," Hyuk bent, and whispered in my ear. "Don't be nervous. I'll do all the talking."

A plump woman in an elegant blue and red hanbok stepped forward; she looked like she was in her sixties, with a kind face and a slightly stooped posture. She bowed low to us, and said, "Welcome back, Your Majesties. I trust that you had a pleasant journey."

Hyuk smiled at her and said, "Yes, we did. How are you, Mrs. Kim?"

She beamed at him, and said, "I am keeping well, Your Majesty. Thank you for your kind words."

She turned to me and said, "It  is a pleasure to welcome you to the palace, Your Majesty. Allow me to introduce the staff to you."

I look back now and remember the moment with painful clarity, standing on the threshold of the palace, awkward and small, in an ill-fitting dress, of a grey, ashy-looking kind of colour which I had chosen because I thought that it made me look older and dignified, but had only succeeded in making me look washed-out and drab, clutching my new leather handbag in my clammy hands. I close my eyes now and I can see the great stone hall, the wide doors opening to the library, the paintings on the walls, the exquisite staircase leading to the upper floor, and the dining room beyond, and the sea of faces, open-mouthed and curious, gazing at me in silence, from the line of people that thronged the hallways all the way from the stone hall to the narrow corridors that stretched beyond the dining room in the distance. Faces bowed to me from a hazy distance, names rolled off Mrs. Kim's tongue, as I smiled and tried to focus in vain, trying my best to remember who was who and who did what, and then someone stepped out of the sea of faces, someone tall and gaunt, dressed in deep black, with a high, severely buttoned-up white ruffled lace collar, whose skin, stretched taut over prominent cheekbones, and dead, hollow eyes, gave her the appearance of a parchment-white, skull's face, at the top of a tall, bony, rigid skeleton's frame. She took a step toward me, and I smiled at her hesitatingly; but when she looked at me, her eyes were cold and lifeless. "This is Miss Seo Kang Hee," Mrs. Kim said. "She is the Princess Ari's nanny" and the woman with the dead eyes began to speak, but her eyes never left mine so that my eyes wavered, and fell before hers, and I was aware of a deep sense of unease and discomfort. I cannot remember her words now, but I know that she bade me welcome to the Grand Palace, in a stiff, rehearsed speech, spoken in a voice as cold and lifeless as her eyes. She fell silent when she came to the end of her speech, and I remember stammering an awkward reply, thanking her, and dropping my handbag in my confusion. She stooped to pick it up, and as she handed it to me, her hand brushed against mine and it was limp and heavy, cold as the grave; inwardly I recoiled, even as I thought that I saw a little flicker of scorn in those lifeless eyes, gone almost instantly, and her face assumed its blank lifelessness again, and I told myself that I must have imagined it. She stepped back and took her place amongst the rest and I was aware of that black figure, standing out alone, individual and apart, her eyes upon me, silently, fixedly, as I was introduced to the rest of the staff, and I felt a chill and a strange sense of dread. Hyuk took my arm and thanked everyone smoothly and charmingly, and whisked me off to our rooms to freshen up, and get ready for tea, which we were to have with the Empress Dowager, closing the doors behind us, and we were alone again.

We had a stately tea offering ceremony with the Empress Dowager in her chambers where we knelt before her, and offered her tea from two exquisite teacups poured out of a beautiful antique teapot by a palace maid. A delicious-looking spread of cakes and sandwiches had been prepared for us, and we sat on gleaming teak chairs side by side as she spoke to her son, and ignored me for the course of the meal, apart from a frosty "Welcome to the Grand Palace". I looked at her surreptitiously from beneath my eyelashes, and marvelled inwardly at how lively and happy she appeared to be, conversing with her son. They spoke about old friends and acquaintances, and she grumbled a little about the Prime Minister's tardiness, and then brightened up as she started to talk about little Princess Ari, how clever she was, and how she could recognize characters and the letters of the alphabet, and her not even six yet, while I sipped my tea nervously and prayed that the ordeal would soon be over. 

There was a knock on the door and I looked up in relief; a woman in red glided in gracefully. She was dressed in a red, form-fitting collared blouse and a tight red skirt, both of which set off her tall, willowy figure to perfection, and her feet, bare and exposed, were delicate, blemish-free and exquisitely-formed, the scarlet toenails vivid and vibrant against the soft whiteness of her skin. She had a delicate, heart-shaped face and a pale, flawless complexion, setting to perfection the beautifully-arched brows, the high cheekbones,the pert nose and the rosebud lips. Her long brown hair fell in lustrous waves, cascading over her shoulders and rippling down her back.

She was the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen in my life.

She bowed gracefully, and spoke in a voice that was low and husky, "Your Majesties, welcome back to the Grand Palace. May I offer my warmest congratulations on your marriage, and may Your Majesties be blessed with long life and wedded bliss."

The Empress Dowager looked amused, and, to my surprise, she turned to me and said, " Ah, Sunny, allow me to introduce my personal aide to you. This is Miss Min Yoo Ra," and added, giving a little laugh, "She's a very important person in the palace, and, no doubt, you'll be seeing quite a lot of her..."

I smiled at The Scarlet Woman shyly, and said awkwardly, "Er...yes. I - I'm sure that we'll get along famously...", and could have bitten my tongue off the moment the words were out, because I sounded like a silly, fumbling teenager. I looked at Hyuk helplessly, but he was not looking at me; he was looking at the beautiful woman, and there was a frown between his brows, and a tightness to his lips. Abruptly, he rose, and said curtly, "We have to take our leave now; my wife is tired, and it has been a long day. Please excuse us." He bowed, and took my hand in his, and led - or pulled me, rather - out of the room. He stalked up the staircase without saying a word, and I hurried to keep up with him.

"Who was that?" I asked breathlessly. "She's so beautiful."

"No one that you need to concern yourself with," he said brusquely, his face devoid of expression.

He closed the door shut behind us, and we were in our rooms.

He led me to the tall glass windows at the side of the bedroom. 

"Look down there," he said, standing behind me and draping his arms over me from behind.

I looked down and caught my breath; there was a sea of red beneath me, row upon row of roses beneath me, stretching as far as the eye could see.

"I chose this wing for us because it faces the rose garden," he said, smiling, the ill-humour a minute ago gone. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," I breathed, "and I love you."

I stood on tiptoe and flung my arms around him and drew his face down to mine. He bent, and kissed me right there, in front of the open glass windows, with the sun shining in and the rose garden beneath our entwined bodies. We parted slowly, and I smiled at him, and drew the curtains shyly to shut out the world, but my fingers stilled midway: a solitary figure, clad all in red, stood amongst the roses: it was Min Yoo Ra, and she was standing still, looking up and staring straight at me.