***
“Please, let me in.”
“That cannot be done. You’ll have another fit at this rate. Please return, Bi Jin Mama.”
Today too, Sansan visited Suchanggung Palace. He’d been standing in front of Suchang Gate, enduring for already one shichen. In the fierce winter wind, Sansan’s face was already frozen bright red.
“Mama, please just go back. Wanui Han will be looking after him well.”
The court ladies of Mianggung Palace, including Yeongchae, continuously persuaded him from his side. Sansan sniffled and dripped tears.
“I-it’s been three days and his fever still hasn’t gone down, sob, I want to at least hold his hand.”
“What will you do if His Majesty sends you to a separate palace for isolation at this rate? Please, Mama. Didn’t you get scolded terribly yesterday too?”
Measles was a common plague, if it could be called common, that one was likely to experience once in a lifetime, but quite a few people died unable to overcome it. Especially the younger the infant, the lower the survival rate. There had already been precedents of several of Emperor Yeonghwi’s Imperial Princes and Princesses being buried in the ground without passing their hundredth day.
Fortunately, since the Emperor had also suffered from measles when young, they at least avoided the situation of sending Gang-i to a separate palace for isolation, but Sansan had never had measles. Having lived almost his entire life locked in a room, it was natural in a way.
Upon hearing Gang-i’s diagnosis, the Emperor immediately sealed off Suchanggung Palace. He even made the imperial physician reside within Suchanggung Palace, preventing him from going in or out.
“You must think of the baby in your womb too. Mama, please return to the palace now, won’t you?”
The baby. Sansan unconsciously wrapped his protruding belly with his hands.
“Congratulations on your pregnancy. M-Mama.”
“…Thank you, Orabeoni.”
A fragment of the not-so-distant past flashed before Sansan’s eyes. His younger sister’s face, smiling beautifully while wrapping her slightly protruding belly with her own hands, was still vivid even now.
Sansan looked down at his own belly.
The result of sleeping with his younger sister’s husband was inside his belly. Just as Wol-i had attended the Emperor’s bed and given birth to Gang-i, he too would attend the Emperor’s bed and give birth to Won in his belly.
Without even knowing shame.
“…Our Wol-i often suffered from fever when she was young.”
“……”
“Gang-i is like Wol-i, suffering from fever too.”
Measles or whatever—he didn’t really know how dangerous it was. Just,
“When that happened, if we held hands tightly and slept together, she’d get better in a day or two…”
Wol was gone now. If Wol had been here, wouldn’t Gang-i not be sick? Sansan dripped tears and stared at his belly with blank eyes.
The thought came to him now that just as he had stolen Wol-i’s place, Won might be stealing Gang-i’s place.
The Emperor went beyond caressing his belly morning and evening—in bed, he habitually inserted fingers all the way to the entrance of the womb.
Sansan closed his eyes briefly. Inside his closed eyes were Sanwol and Gang-i. He tried to picture the Emperor behind them. They looked good together, well-matched. They were complete with just them. He and the baby in his belly didn’t fit at all.
“His Highness the Eighth Imperial Prince will overcome it in a day or two, resembling Consort Nyeong Mama. He might get completely better by tomorrow. So please return to the palace and wait. Okay?”
“…Alright. Let’s go back.”
The reality that he had to turn away from Gang-i thinking of his own child was too much for Sansan. But what could he do? Opening his eyes again, Sansan removed his hand from his belly and nodded. Then, just before turning away, he reached out and touched Suchang Gate.
“If Gang-i gets better, please be sure to send someone to let me know. Okay?”
“Yes. I will do so, Mama.”
The palace eunuch’s answer came from beyond the gate. Sansan couldn’t leave right away and lingered. Even while being reluctantly dragged by Yeongchae’s guiding hand that pretended not to notice, he repeatedly, repeatedly looked back at Suchang Gate.
Suchang Gate, coldly shut, never opened to the end.
That night, the Emperor and Sansan went to bed early. To the Emperor who came as always, Sansan made the same request as always.
“Please… It’s my wish.”
“You foolish thing. Will the Eighth Imperial Prince’s illness be cured just because you’re by his side? Even if you’re together, only you will catch measles. And what about Won? Do you, do you even think about becoming a mother? I’m truly disgusted. How can you not understand words like this?”
After that, Sansan only cried without speaking. It was the Emperor who had enjoyed himself alone again while laying such Sansan on the bed.
Even after being tormented by the Emperor for a long time, Sansan didn’t fall asleep. Behind the Emperor’s back as he held him, Sansan kept his eyes open and watched the darkness. He wanted to protect Gang-i so no one could take him away, even from afar.
The night was long and tenacious. Morning wouldn’t come easily and frustrated Sansan. As if the news he’d been waiting for would surely come when the sun rose, Sansan stayed awake through the night with open eyes. Somehow he didn’t even know it was difficult.
And finally, dim light began to seep through the window paper. Soon the birds would start chirping too. The morning of the Imperial Palace that Sansan had waited and waited for was dawning.
It was exactly the hundredth day since Gang-i was born. The vest he’d made such a fuss about to dress him in on this day remained unfinished because the situation had become like this. But if only Gang-i’s illness would fully heal, the vest and such didn’t matter at all.
Gang-i alone would make a perfect hundredth-day celebration. With various foods praying for longevity and the precious things he’d received from the Emperor, he would set up a hundredth-day table and bow together with Gang-i toward the direction of the temple where Sanwol was buried.
Sansan wanted to show Sanwol. Though he was an older brother who had only been a burden all his life, still, since he was the child she’d given birth to in exchange for her life, he would raise him with his own life. Just as she had been his support, now he would become the support of her child—he wanted to vow to heaven like that.
Because he’d missed his younger sister’s departing path so emptily that he couldn’t even make a promise, he wanted to take the opportunity of Gang-i’s hundredth day to surely do so.
Somehow Sansan had a good feeling. Once the day fully dawned, it seemed like someone would be sent from Suchanggung Palace. Perhaps Gang-i might even return to Mianggung Palace, he hoped.
He pressed his chest firmly with his palm to calm his trembling heart. Perhaps because of anticipation, he kept feeling anxious and tears came. That’s when it happened.
Breaking the quiet of early dawn, the sound of many footsteps came from outside. They were urgently approaching toward the bedchamber. Sansan felt as if his heart had dropped with a thud. Without knowing it, he grasped and shook the Emperor’s shoulder.
“Mmm.”
He shook the Emperor, who was turning in his sleep, even harder.
“Are you awake?”
The lips of the Emperor, who had opened his eyes, curved beautifully. Even at the audacious touch that dared to wake the Emperor, he didn’t get angry but smiled and pulled Sansan into an embrace.
“Y-Your Majesty, outside,”
“Your Majesty. It is this servant. There is something urgent to report—may I speak?”
Head Eunuch Han’s voice was heard from the side hall outside the bedchamber. It was an early visit even though it wasn’t yet time to rise. The Emperor kissed Sansan’s cheek without much thought and said.
“Speak from there.”
“I deeply regret to report, but His Highness the Eighth Imperial Prince has just passed away.”
***
**8. Eternal Separation**
Year 20 of Yeonghwi, the twenty-first of Yeolmae-dal, it was a fierce winter day with a blizzard raging. The Eighth Imperial Prince Yi Gang, who had died on the seventeenth, left the palace contained in a jade coffin. It was said he would be buried together at the temple where Sanwol was laid to rest.
The Emperor posthumously bestowed upon Yi Gang, who was only a hundred days old, the title of Prince of the First Rank and spent ten thousand taels of gold to hold a funeral with the rites of a Prince of the First Rank. Funeral ceremonies praying for the Eighth Imperial Prince’s repose were held in succession by each religious order.
However, just as with Sanwol’s case, Sansan couldn’t attend Gang-i’s funeral. For the same reason as then, with one more reason added: that measles might be transmitted. The Emperor also didn’t show his face at Gang-i’s funeral.
Such was the law. The people of Ha viewed a child dying before their parents as the greatest unfilial act, so there were many cases where funerals weren’t even held.
Unlike with Sanwol, Sansan secluded himself in the bedchamber without much protest. He didn’t throw a tantrum to attend the funeral, nor did he plead to at least see from afar when the coffin departed.
Because of this, the Emperor, who felt even more uneasy, stayed away from Mianggung Palace for several days while Gang-i’s funeral was held. He was waiting for Sansan to compose himself, giving him some time.
Thus, the Emperor crossed the threshold of Miyang Gate after five days. Yeongchae, who had received advance notice and was waiting, quickly approached the Emperor’s side and followed behind him.
“How is he doing?”
“…I deeply regret to report, but he just fell asleep. These past few days he’s mostly been sleeping, and when he’s awake, he just stares at distant mountains.”
“His meals?”
“He doesn’t eat well, but he’s not completely starving. We feared that if we pressed him, the situation might worsen instead, so we couldn’t insist strongly. Please forgive this servant’s crime.”
Hearing Yeongchae’s report, the Emperor asked nothing more. Not even causing any particular commotion, this was much better than he’d worried. If he’d truly cut off all food to the point of trouble, she couldn’t have spoken like that. From now on, it would be a matter of feeding him well again.
He deliberately thought positively and moved his steps toward the bedchamber where Sansan was said to be sleeping. It had been a full five days. From the densely permeating scent of Sansan starting from Miyang Gate, the Emperor realized how painfully he had endured all this time.
He felt like he could live. The headache that felt like his head would burst, the terrible thirst, even the maddening anxiety scattered all at once and his body felt light. At the same time, he felt pleasant palpitations, the slowly rising heat in his lower abdomen.
First, he should embrace that body and breathe his fill. Thinking that, the Emperor quickened his steps more and more.
Footnotes
1) Twenty-first of Yeolmae-dal: December 21st.
