A court lady who had been attending Sanwol from nearby ran out and delivered the sad news.
“…Ah.”
Sansan’s crying stopped all at once. A heavy silence descended over all of Yeongnyeong Palace.
But it was only for a moment.
“Though Consort Nyeong did not serve me for long, she gave birth to an imperial prince, and having virtue, never once acted rashly in even her smallest behavior, living according to protocol in all things. Furthermore, even while pregnant, she attentively looked after Bin Jin, and with her gentle and upright character became a model for many concubines—thus I shall properly commend that merit and hold her funeral with the courtesy of a Noble Consort. The chief mourner shall be Imperial Prince Yi Yun, so know this and prepare without fail.”
In a voice that felt no sadness or regret whatsoever, the Emperor commanded as if reciting from a book. When the imperial command fell, the palace servants who had been prostrate all prostrated again and began to praise the Emperor and mourn Consort Nyeong.
“Upon receiving your command, we will carry it out without fail. Long live, long live, ten thousand times long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. Long live, long live, a thousand thousand times long live Consort Nyeong Mama.”
“Upon receiving your command, we will carry it out without fail. Long live, long live, ten thousand times long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. Long live, long live, a thousand thousand times long live Consort Nyeong Mama.”
“Upon receiving your command, we will carry it out without fail. Long live, long live, ten thousand times long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. Long live, long live, a thousand thousand times long live Consort Nyeong Mama.”
In that chaotic moment, Sansan was engulfed in the feeling that only he was far removed from everything.
He rudely swatted away the Emperor’s sleeve gripping his shoulder and turned around without a word. With eyes devoid of reason, he smoothly moved his steps toward the bedchamber where Sanwol lay.
In the bedchamber where no one remained, Sanwol lay alone, her lower body completely covered in blood.
Blood was everywhere.
An emotion he couldn’t name pooled somewhere in Sansan’s heart.
“I told you to wait just a little…”
Sansan sat with his bottom against Sanwol’s bedside and caressed Sanwol’s coldly cooled cheek. Her lips were torn everywhere from how much she had bitten them while giving birth.
“…How could you, without even seeing Teunteun.”
Sanwol, who had already departed, gave no response.
“When our Wol gets married and leaves, what will I do when I miss you?”
“What marriage would I go to, leaving orabeoni behind? Stop talking nonsense and rewrite that character. No, no. The stroke is wrong, okay?”
A day from when she wasn’t even ten years old flashed before Sansan’s tear-blurred eyes.
It seemed like a lie. That Sanwol had died, that he had become a concubine, that Sanwol had married into the imperial palace in the first place.
He thought everything seemed like a lie. He looked down at the dead Sanwol and ceaselessly muttered that it was a lie.
How long had he been doing that? In an instant, Sansan’s whole body seemed to lose strength, and he fainted as if it really were a lie.
The Emperor, who had been quietly watching him from behind, caught his body as it fell limply backward. Holding the fainted Sansan in his arms, the Emperor felt an unknown fear for the first time. It was a foreboding like intuition.
Wanting to ignore this, he habitually inhaled Sansan’s body scent.
“From today, Yeongnyeong Palace is closed. Henceforth, anyone who lets Bin Jin go to Yeongnyeong Palace will have their head cut off regardless of official rank, so act accordingly.”
***
**7. Separation**
On the day Sanwol’s coffin left the palace, rain poured down like a deluge. It was the beginning of the autumn rainy season.
Sanwol, beautifully adorned as in life, was dressed in dark crimson ceremonial robes and wrapped in five layers of embroidered silk covering. Then eight more layers of silk wrapped over that.
Since the Emperor had decreed to treat her as a Noble Consort, gold thread was used in the silk like for the Emperor or Empress. The coffin was also made of camphor wood.
The funeral was led by Imperial Prince Yi Yun as chief mourner following the imperial command. Since the grown Imperial Prince Yi personally offered libations, all the imperial princes and princesses below attended. Indeed, no one disagreed that it was a solemn and grand funeral that properly maintained decorum without omitting any procedure.
However, during those three days of holding the funeral, the Emperor never once showed his face. Sansan was also not permitted to attend the funeral. The reason was that since he carried an imperial grandson, he must not be tainted by impurity. Only today, when the coffin was leaving the palace, was he finally granted permission to see her off from a distance.
Sansan, who had grown gaunt in just a few days and was staring endlessly at Sanwol’s coffin receding like a dot, suddenly couldn’t suppress his impulse and ran into the rain.
Yeongchae, who had been holding an oiled-paper umbrella over Sansan, was horrified when Sansan ran like someone who had lost their mind, threw down the oiled-paper umbrella, and quickly chased after him.
Sansan wailed like a pitiful child enough to melt the heartstrings of anyone watching. When the Emperor’s favored concubine fell and fell again while desperately following, not minding the rain, the procession carrying the coffin had no choice but to stop walking.
Thus, Sansan, who finally threw himself over Sanwol’s coffin, wailed loudly saying let him go with her too. Naturally it reached the Emperor’s ears. By the time the furious Emperor arrived at the scene cutting through the torrential rain, Sansan’s lips had already turned blue.
The moment the Emperor saw Sansan, soaked in rain and trembling, he lost his reason. He sent Yeongchae and all the palace servants under Sansan to the Office of Punishments and punished all those involved.
Sansan didn’t escape unscathed either. He was slapped on the spot and confined to the Cold Palace. Sansan was the first concubine to be confined to the Cold Palace while pregnant.
***
“No, you mustn’t go this way. Wol-ah, let’s go together. Please take orabeoni too. Sob, Wol-ah. How will you go that long road alone?”
A desolate voice kept wandering around the Emperor’s ears. The Emperor savagely threw the small wine cup he was holding. When the wine cup cracked and split in two, the male favorite who had been massaging the Emperor’s legs flinched in surprise and stiffened.
“Insolent thing.”
“…Your Majesty?”
Min Seon-woo, who had entered the palace in high spirits after receiving the Emperor’s summons after a long time, had already noticed that today was not the day, and had been waiting for the imperial command to withdraw.
When in the mood, the Emperor would screw him until his back hole melted, but on unlucky days, bloodshed from a question was basic, and if things went wrong, there were beatings or whippings, and occasionally he’d been strangled until his eyes rolled back. Sometimes he’d even seen other male favorites who had shared the bed carried out the back door wrapped in straw mats.
“…I speak with utmost trepidation, but shall this lowly one withdraw now?”
Not wanting to get bloodied while standing by hoping for crumbs, Min Seon-woo asked while carefully gauging the mood. Only then, as if remembering his existence, the Emperor raised one eyebrow, then—
“…Continue massaging.”
He reluctantly added in a voice that sounded unwilling. Min Seon-woo struggled to hide his death-like expression and began massaging the Emperor’s legs again.
If it were before, he would have subtly let his hands climb up the inner thigh to stimulate the Emperor’s lower parts, but now he cast aside all such ulterior motives and focused solely on not going against the Emperor’s mood.
The Emperor continued to glare at empty space with piercing eyes.
“This world’s most deficient half-wit.”
That muttering was densely packed with unresolved fury. For him, it was truly an unprecedented blow to his pride.
A fool and a eunuch at that. As if he could function as a man anywhere. Yet he, the Son of Heaven no less, kept that one by his side and cherished him—wasn’t that glory unprecedented in future generations? No matter how deficient, how deficient, how could he not know even that much?
He hadn’t been particularly harsh either. Had he even made him do anything when receiving his bedside attendance? Rather, he’d been busy caressing and humoring him so he’d feel good, cry less. All things the Emperor had never done in his entire life. First time or not, they’d been together for months and now he was even carrying his child.
The one who only whimpered beneath him would soon have a swollen belly carrying his child, then give birth to something just like him, and thinking of it living and squirming by his side made him inexplicably smile and even feel ticklish somewhere in his chest. He’d been agonizing so much he still hadn’t even given a prenatal name.
But what? Take him along too?
A loud bang shook the bedchamber of Geoncheonggung Palace. It was because the Emperor had struck the table of the Arhat Bed hard. At the clearly displayed fury, not only Min Seon-woo who was sitting on the Arhat Bed with him, but also the head eunuch and all palace servants standing by all knelt on the floor.
“What is that one doing?”
Whatever the circumstances, it was a funeral for a concubine equivalent to a Noble Consort, held in an imperial palace without an empress. Considering that a concubine’s funeral had never been held within the palace walls before, it was natural that all eyes in the palace were focused on it. Enough that sounds of daring to speak of crown prince were flowing about the just-born imperial prince—they were making their own assumptions freely enough.
The palace was a place where even the smallest expression of heart was interpreted politically. Even knowing all that, he bestowed grace solely for that one’s sake, yet to reject him so openly?
