Chapter 20: Return to the Palace

My father was beside himself with grief, because all this time, I had not breathed a word of my broken marriage to him, and he had thought that I was happy. He wept, as I recounted to him the true state of my sham union with the Emperor; he would have been driven to despair if I had told him everything. I left out So Hyun, and Min Yoo Ra, and what he knew he had garnered from the media - that Princess Ari was not the emperor's niece, but was Hyuk's own biological daughter with the nanny. It was, I said, impossible to live with Hyuk any longer, and I had made the decision to move out of the palace, because I needed time and privacy to think. My father wept anew; he was a kind, gentle man, who had loved my mother with all of his heart, and had been shielded from most of life's harshness by my mother and my younger sister, and the scandal that had engulfed my life was beyond his comprehension. He was confused and bewildered, and I had to comfort him instead, and tell him that I was all right, and he looked at me, and said, "Sunny, you've changed so much. You - you are so calm and collected. I had thought that you would be upset and angry, but you've hardly shed a tear. Let it out, my dear, let it all out. Cry if you wish, cry all you want. Don't keep your feelings bottled up in you." I patted him reassuringly, and assured him that I had no wish to cry, and he looked a little troubled; perhaps it would have made him feel less anxious if I had cried and railed at Hyuk, but I had spoken very little of him, beyond that we were too different, we did not suit each other, and we should never have married in the first place. Helro, my sister, was pragmatic about the whole thing, and said, "Well, it's better that you found out sooner rather than later", and I wasn't sure whether she was talking about Princess Ari, or about Hyuk and I and our ill-suitedness for each other, but apart from those words, she left me alone, and did not attempt to pry or question me further, for which I was grateful.

The palace issued a carefully worded statement, that in light of the "new development" - a mild understatement, to say the least - the Empress had retreated to an unknown location "to ponder" and "reflect" on the "situation" and would address "the matter" at an appropriate time in the near future. It ended with a reminder to everyone to respect the privacy of the royal family.

News soon surfaced of the return of the Crown Prince Lee Yoon from the States. It had taken a major scandal to make him return, I thought, and smiled cynically to myself; even his brother's marriage to me had been deemed insignificant enough to warrant his re-emergence in Korea. 

So Jin called me a few times, and apologized for keeping Ari's real origins a secret.

"It was the right thing to do; she was Hyuk's child, and my husband and I had been trying for years to have a baby, but to no avail. When Miss Seo told us about her - her pregnancy, it was like God had answered our prayers. I felt sorry for her, too, she was desperate to be with the child, and my mother and I thought that it would be prudent to keep her on as nanny, and she swore that she would never tell a living soul about who Ari's father was. Hyuk did not know, and we never told him about the baby. Hyuk wasn't aware of - of what he did, he was drunk that night it happened," she faltered. "I think there was something badly wrong with his marriage to So Hyun, I don't know what it was, but still, that's no excuse for what happened. What I'm trying to say, Sunny my dear, is that Hyuk loves you, and it was something unfortunate that happened long before you came into his life. Please forgive him, for all of our sakes, and please come back, come home to the palace. Put this behind you. We'll sit down together and figure a way out of this mess."

"Our marriage isn't working out," I said. "There are - other reasons, and Ari - well, you could say that Ari was the final straw that broke the camel's back."

There was a silence on the other end.

Then she spoke.

"Oh," she said slowly. "I thought you were happy together. I didn't know you were having - problems. Could I help in any way?"

"I'm afraid not," I said gently. "But thank you for offering to help. You see, we're not happy together, Hyuk and I. I thought we were for a while, but I was only deluding myself."

"Oh, my dear, my dear," she said, her voice breaking a little, "I am utterly, utterly crushed to hear that. I never knew - I never suspected - I have been too self-absorbed, too selfish. If I had known, if I had suspected, I could have - I would have spoken to Hyuk. He is a difficult person to live with. He's not forthcoming, and he keeps things to himself. But, my dear, he loves you, I can see that he loves you, you've made all the difference to his life."

"I tried, I tried so hard, but I can't - not anymore. I'm tired," I said. "I'm so tired. I need to be alone, to think about what I'm going to do."

"I - see," she said. "Take all the time in the world, my dear. I'm sorry for barging in with my insensitive comments. I hope you're not offended."

"No, I'm not," I said. "I appreciate your concern and your kindness. I do, I really do. I'm not just saying that."

"You'll work it out, you and Hyuk. I know you will. Take care of yourself, my dear, and call me anytime you need someone to talk to," she said.

Hyuk called me regularly, and we spoke like polite strangers on the phone. 

"Are you well?" he would say.

"I'm well," I answered. "And you?"

"I'm fine," he would say, and he would lapse into silence, as if unsure of what to say next.

"How is Ari?" I asked. 

"She is well,  So Jin says she has been asking where you are. She misses you."

"I miss her too. You have to spend more time with her, since she is your daughter." It was surprising how easily those words came out, now that I did not have to see him face to face.

"I know," he said, and he sounded comfortable too, there was no hint of awkwardness in his tone at all. "I intend to, just as soon as I get some free time, perhaps spend a weekend with So Jin and the General and Ari, a family day kind of outing." He paused. "Would you like to come?"

"Oh," I said, taken by surprise. "I - I would have to think about it."

"Please come," he said, and there was an appeal in his voice. "Ari misses you, So Jin  too, and I - I miss you, Sunny."

I closed my eyes, and gripped the phone tightly.

"I can't - not right now, I'm not up to it, I'd rather not see anyone, not right now," I said woodenly.

"I understand," he said. "Sunny, I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. It's just -"

"I'd rather not talk about that right now, Hyuk, if you don't mind," I said, my voice tight. "I can't, I just can't - I've to go now." I ended the call abruptly.

Woo Bin dropped by frequently to check on me.

"How are you?" he asked, looking worried. Poor Woo Bin.

"I'm fine," I said cheerily. "I've never been better."

He looked even more distressed at that.

"Your Majesty, if you don't mind me saying, it's been four months since you moved out," he said seiously, a frown between his brows, taking great care not to mention the palace. "Are you - do you have any plans to return at any time soon?" He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow, looking embarrassed.

"No, Woo Bin," I said. "I can't say that I have any plans to return at the moment."

"Perhaps later then?" he said, looking crestfallen.

"We'll see," I said nonchalantly, shrugging.

'His Majesty is very unhappy," he said in a low voice. "He stays in the library all day, and he has turned down a lot of engagements. He hardly speaks to anyone, and Mrs. Kim says he hardly touches his food - "

"If you don't mind, Woo Bin," I cut in, "I'd rather talk about something else. Here, have some of this fruitcake - I baked it myself."

He looked unhappy, but obediently took a bite of the fruitcake, and drank his tea morosely, as I proceeded to give him a detailed account of the cakes I had baked for the past four months, and the time and effort that went into each.

"Thank you for the cake and for the tea, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now, but I humbly implore Your Majesty to please consider returning to the palace. It is your rightful home, Your Majesty; it is where you belong. Return home, and take up your rightful place beside His Majesty."

I suspected that Woo Bin had his men watch me discreetly day and night to protect me, an easy enough task, since I hardly went out at all, except to the garden in the backyard, or to the convenience store at the end of the lane, in a bad wig and enormous sunglasses. Nobody looked at me, or talked to me, nobody knew who I was, and it was strangely liberating to walk about the neighbourhood without worrying about what people would think of me, or say about me. I slipped into my old life easily, it was as though I had never left it, and the other world that I had been a part of so briefly, that glittering, royal world, appeared almost like a dream. The days passed, and I drifted on, refusing to think of the future, unable to come to a decision.

September came, and with it, fall; the hot scorching August weather turned colder, and the air crispier.

Hyuk called me, but this time, he said, "I need to see you. Sunny, we need to talk. You can't keep avoiding me forever. Sunny, are you listening?"

I didn't say anything.

"It has been eight months," he said. "I have tried my best to be patient, but we can't go on like this any longer. We have to meet, to talk, and you have to decide."

"Decide?" I said.

"Decide what we're going to do with our marriage. Whatever you want, I will agree, with no conditions. It is entirely up to you. It is your choice, your decision to make."

"Shall I come to your father's house, or would you prefer we go elsewhere?"

"All right," I said finally, after a long silence. "Tomorrow at 10 am. Pick me up at the steps, where - where we used to meet," and added, in a whisper, "if you remember."

"I remember," he said. "10 am tomorrow then. I'll be waiting."

"Yes," I said, and ended the call.

The next day came and I got out of bed wearily. I changed, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked pale and haggard, my eyes hollow and shadowed. I walked down the steps slowly, remembering how giddy I had felt all those years ago when I had flown down the steps, my heart pounding, my face flushed, madly in love for the first time in my life. How beautiful the world had been then, how dazzling, how brightly the sun had shone. The railing was rusty, and parts of it had chipped away and broken off, leaving jagged, gaping edges, and the concrete steps were cracked and uneven, grimy and overgrown with moss. How strange that I had never noticed all of these before.

The car was parked at the bottom of the steps, just as it had been all those years ago. He was waiting in the driver's seat, just as he had waited all those years ago, the window beside him half-wound down, staring straight ahead, and for a moment, I could almost believe that I was back in the past again, that shy young girl, about to go out for a car ride with the man that she was besotted with, but then he turned, and I was jolted back to reality: this was no dream, this was real, and the man before me, glancing unsmilingly at me with shuttered eyes, and, almost instantaneously looking away, as if he could not bear the sight of me, was not the Prince Charming from my past, but my sham husband, a cold cruel stranger, who had shut me out of his life, ripped my heart apart, and shattered my happy, innocent existence.

We drove in silence, and I turned my face away from him and stared out of my window. How many times had we driven like this in the past, me buried in his coat, my arms ensconced, tucked away, safe and warm in the comforting, soft sleeves? How many countless times had we driven like this, me beside him, his hand over mine, hardly speaking, silent yet contented in each other's presence, as the car purred on smoothly and swiftly, the world blurring into a hazy fog of unfamiliar roads and highways and villages that I knew naught of, that I cared naught for, my heart swelling with love and joy as I stole quick glances every now and then at that dearly beloved, handsome face beside me? How different it was then from the drive now, as we sat, rigid and apart, he behind the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, me in my seat, gazing blindly, unseeingly, at the bleak and grey world outside, phantom images hurtling past, never still, never lingering, not even for a moment, as we plunged forward, always forward, into the unknown, the uncertain, leaving behind the past, the memories. Against my will, that pain, numbed and suppressed for so long in my foolish heart, stabbed deep within my , unwelcome, unbidden, and I bit my lips hard.

We stopped at a remote little clearing next to a stream, nestled within a cluster of woods. Silently, he opened the car door, and I stepped out. We walked slowly along the stream; it was deserted and quiet, save for the chirping of birds. I stopped, and turned my face toward the stream. There was a white bird perched on a rock in the middle of the stream. It flapped its wings and then took off toward the pale blue sky.

Summer had come to an end, and the trees were beginning to shed their leaves. Soon the bees and the butterflies and the crickets and the spiders would disappear as the cold set in, but they would return the following year; summer would return, and the melody of life would play once more. The bees would hum and the crickets would chirp, the butterflies would flutter their delicate wings once more, and the spiders would spin their foggy webs again. Azaleas bordered the far edge of the stream, growing so close together that their petals had intertwined with one another. The sweet, heady scent rose to my nostrils, mingled with another, an old quiet moss smell that lingered in the air, a familiar scent from long ago, and the mists parted and I remembered Hyuk and I that afternoon in the Valley of Dreams, the air heavy with the scent of azaleas. I remembered him picking up a brown, sodden azalea buried beneath my feet, and giving it to me; the beautiful azalea, the symbol of love and modesty and kindness. For it is said that the gift of an azalea signifies that one is loved deeply, and powerfully, but, in my foolishness, my complacent ignorance, I had thought that that love would last for a lifetime, eternal, infinite; no one had told me that that love, so deep and so powerful, would prove to be so brief, so transient, and a sob rose to my throat. 

Deliberately, I forced the memory away. I did not want to remember. Remembering would only make me weak.

"Have you decided?" he said quietly, standing tall and straight beside me, a great navy blue coat flapping about his knees. I was wearing sneakers, and his great height dwarfed me, my head barely reaching his shoulders.

I stooped, and picked up a pebble, and threw it as far as I could into the stream; it landed with a tiny splash, and the water rippled a little, and then it was still again.

"Sunny," he said, and took a step toward me. "Look at me, please."

I looked up at him. His hair had grown longer, and it was not swept back from his forehead, but fell over his eyebrows carelessly; a sudden gust of wind whipped his hair and tousled it, so that the dark strands floated whimsically, soft and loose upon his face. He had grown thinner, his cheeks were hollowed, the skin stretched taut and tight over his cheekbones, and his eyes were weary, rimmed with dark shadows, as if he had not slept well for a long time.

Hyuk looked at me. He looked at me for the first time in a long, long time. And in his eyes, I read the message of regret, of remorse. 

"Have you decided?" he asked again softly.

We were standing close to each other, all I had to do was to take a step forward and I would touch his face, his hair. But I did not step forward, and neither did he. It was as if we were standing far apart, and we could not speak nor call out to each other, for the wind and the distance would carry away the sound of our voices.

"What would you do if I said that I want to leave you, that I never want to go back?" I said.

He flinched, as if I had struck him, and said, "I would accept your decision. I have made you unhappy, and if this is what would make you happy again, I would not stand in your way. I wanted you to be happy, and I thought that we could be happy together, but, I was wrong. It is my fault, I rushed you into this marriage, and I beg your forgiveness for all the hurt that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, please believe me."

"Very well then, I will return to the palace, but it is for Ari's sake," I said woodenly. "I do not wish her to grow up with the legacy of a tainted birth."

"I will return, but these are my conditions."

"You will acknowledge Ari as your biological daughter, and henceforth, she will be my child, and I will be her mother. She will live in the palace with me. Your mother will have no say in her upbringing, and neither will So Jin. The nanny will be removed at once, and transferred away from the palace. I do not wish to set eyes upon her ever again. Min Yoo Ra is to be transferred to another department where I would not lay eyes on her again."

"We will be husband and wife in name only, and we will live separate lives. We will be the perfect Emperor and Empress of Korea to the nation and the world, and we will never breathe a word of the true state of our marriage to anyone for as long as we both shall live. You will never enter my bedroom, nor I yours. I will live in the palace until Ari is of an age to understand that we are not compatible together, and then we will divorce, and I will leave the palace."

"These are my conditions, and if they are fulfilled, every single one of them, I shall return to the palace."

"I understand," he said, his face pale and set, "and I agree with all of your conditions. Thank you for your decision, and thank you for putting Ari's interests above your own."

"It's settled then," I said. "I would need a week to get my things ready. I will return to the palace in a week's time."

I turned to go. He put out a hand and gripped my arm.

"Sunny," he said, lines of strain appearing around his mouth, "Sunny, can we start all over again? Can we go back to how it was before, when we first met, when we first married?"

I stared at him blankly, frozen, still. He shook my arm.

"Sunny," he said again desperately, "Sunny, say something. Please, say we can."

"I'm afraid that would be impossible, Hyuk," I said politely. "You see, I don't love you anymore."

His hands fell to his sides, and he clenched his fists.

"You loved me once," he said hoarsely, a muscle throbbing beneath his right cheekbone. "I will do everything in my power to make you love me again."

I looked away.

"It's getting late," I said. "We should go."

I turned from him and walked to the car, not waiting to see if he followed.