Chapter 27
The Inequality of Relationships and a Handful of Dignity
The nights of 15th-century Hanyang were so dark that it felt as if, were one to slice through them with a blade, a pitch-black mass like tar might fall into one's hand.
Yunseo sat in the small side room to the north of the west ondol of Jaseondang, occasionally glancing out through a tiny window at that perfect darkness. With a fine brush, she carefully wrote characters, slowly organizing her thoughts.
In the modern world, Yunseo had a ritual: on one day of the weekend, she would always go for a long run, then take a long shower in lukewarm water. Instead of the worn-out T-shirts she usually wore at home, she would dress neatly—like in a high-quality custom Oxford cotton shirt and perfectly straight tailored cotton pants with a belt. Then she would sit at her desk and, with a fountain pen, write down the thoughts she had accumulated over the week on smooth paper.
That ritual was like a prayer—a way for a counselor, who had to listen to the incomprehensible and brutal violence humans inflicted on one another, to wash away the darkness she had absorbed from her clients.
And now, for the first time since arriving in Joseon, Yunseo was performing only the third part of that ritual—using a brush instead of a pen, skipping the rest due to circumstances.
On the other side of a single paper door, their Hongwi slept softly.
And Lee Hyang—who, unlike their clumsy first kiss, had now left Yunseo breathless with a skillful kiss—was asleep in the east ondol across the daecheong hall.
Because the palace was a place where, every time one left a room and returned, there were always subtle traces that someone had searched through things, Yunseo had never dared to organize her thoughts in writing.
But tonight, she had to.
Half a sijin earlier—
On the open daecheong hall, fully exposed to the eyes of court ladies who could not sleep and peered through gaps in the paper doors from the side corridors, Lee Hyang had kissed Yunseo for a long time.
It was only a kiss—nothing more—but it was sweet enough to make her long for more.
And yet, it was also a kiss that lit a warning signal in one corner of Yunseo's mind, which habitually analyzed the patterns of her own psychology whenever something felt off.
As she returned to the room, breathing in short, broken gasps, trying to understand what that unease was—
As she lay beside Hongwi—
As she gently held the small, delicate hand of Hongwi, who slept clutching a piece of cloth as if it were a lifeline instead of a ribbon tie—
Maeggeum appeared.
She came in as if she had suddenly popped out of the wall, without a sound, and said only one word.
"Come."
Since Maeggeum never spoke unless necessary, Yunseo lifted herself carefully, checked that Hongwi was deeply asleep, and followed her out.
In the dark courtyard, Court Lady Park was waiting.
"Jeon Gyun is dead. Let's offer him a drink and send him off with travel money for the afterlife."
At that moment, Yunseo's legs gave way, and she nearly collapsed, but Maeggeum caught her and held her up.
Seeing this, Court Lady Park whispered sharply,
"When you stood before His Majesty and asked for punishment, did you not know this would be the result? If you hadn't spoken that day, the one receiving this drink today would have been you. Remember this, Kwon girl. It is best not to get entangled at all—but once you are caught in a struggle for power, you must kill your opponent with all your strength. You must kill them. Otherwise, the one driven to desperation will try to kill you."
As she pulled Yunseo along, she continued,
"The palace is a damned place like this. I liked you when you were simple. You took everything you were given and let those leech-like step-siblings of yours drain it all away, and even then, you would grin foolishly and live carefree while receiving scraps from me. I liked that innocent, harmless you. Because it seemed like you would remain forever free from this ruthless business I must carry out."
Unlike usual, her words revealed her inner thoughts at length.
Court Lady Park had surely seen such things many times—and had likely driven more than a few people to their deaths with her own hands. Yet, seeing the miserable end of a long-time rival in the palace power struggle, she seemed to feel a trace of pity, along with a buried fear—that she herself could end up the same way at any time.
The place she led Yunseo to was the residence of Senior Court Lady Eom.
Unlike usual, when she would change into comfortable clothes after duty, Senior Court Lady Eom was dressed in formal golden ceremonial attire, the kind worn only at official royal events.
Now that Yunseo looked, Court Lady Park too was properly dressed, her hair adorned and her formal robe in place.
"I hadn't intended to call you," Senior Court Lady Eom said. "But Court Lady Park thought that if you learned of this tomorrow, it might shake you greatly. Better that you hear it today and have time to prepare your heart. You must attend an audience with His Majesty at Cheonchujeon tomorrow, must you not?"
The woman who usually treated Yunseo with a half-formal courtesy now addressed her like an ordinary court lady.
"Light the incense, offer a cup of wine, and bow."
A modest memorial altar had already been set up to the north side of the room.
There were a few fruits, some yakgwa, two candles, and a paper tablet reading:
[Spirit Tablet of Inner Court Official Jeon Gyun]
Yunseo approached, lit three sticks of agarwood incense and placed them in the burner. Then, taking the cup of wine poured by Senior Court Lady Eom—who stood as the chief mourner—she set it on the table and performed two bows.
The faces of Senior Court Lady Eom and Court Lady Park were solemn.
After Yunseo finished bowing, Senior Court Lady Eom took both of Yunseo's hands in hers.
This was a woman who would not even touch Yunseo's shoulder when calling her, yet now she held her hands and looked into her eyes.
"The fate of those who serve His Majesty and His Highness is always like this. The Crown Prince cherishes you deeply and will likely take you as his consort, and he is the kind of man who would treasure you for life. But you must never forget—your fate is, in essence, no different from that of Jeon Gyun, who died here."
Only then did Yunseo clearly understand the source of the unease she had felt with Lee Hyang on the daecheong hall.
It was the discomfort of facing someone with whom she could never be truly equal.
In their relationship, Yunseo was always the one chosen—a Cinderella.
And therefore, always a Cinderella who could be discarded at any time.
That fundamental inequality was what made a cold warning light flicker in one corner of her mind, even as her body awakened to sweet desire.
"Then why… did you push me onto this path? Why did you—"
"Did I," Senior Court Lady Eom cut in quietly, "push you?"
"…No."
No.
Senior Court Lady Eom, Court Lady Park—and Yunseo.
None of them had the power to push someone into a relationship with royalty.
Because they understood the true nature of such relationships, Senior Court Lady Eom and Court Lady Park had always carefully observed the intentions of those above them and acted accordingly. Within the small margin of choice they were allowed, they had drawn in their own people and struggled to survive together.
"So, Kwon girl. After offering the drink today, do not carry even the slightest guilt over Jeon Gyun. If you hadn't spoken as you did, the name we would be honoring with wine today would have been yours."
Senior Court Lady Eom spoke the same words as Court Lady Park.
The reason the two women had called Yunseo was to prepare her—for when morning came, and the court ladies began whispering that that creature had gained the Crown Prince's favor and caused the death of Inner Court official Jeon Gyun. She would face looks filled with disgust, fear, envy, jealousy, and resentment.
At the same time, in a palace where someone who had long been used like a limb could be beaten to death with a single word, this was also part of the power struggle the two women engaged in—to avoid meeting the same brutal fate as Jeon Gyun by putting Yunseo forward.
It was a struggle for fragments of power—power that could never truly be grasped, no matter how desperately one reached, because it ultimately rested in the hands of His Majesty the King and the Crown Prince.
A struggle where losing meant being beaten to death.
Walking alone back to Jaseondang under the heavy, suffocating darkness, Yunseo came to understand that the malice constantly spewed by the palace women was not simply because they were wicked by nature, nor merely because they lived confined like prisoners within a space of only a few dozen steps.
It was a survival strategy—something instinctively emitted by those living under the roof of an absolute power that could kill with a single word.
[Only today have I come to fully understand why humans have struggled for so long, even sacrificing their lives, for freedom and equality. Under conditions where one must rely on the goodwill of those in power to be allowed to live, a human being cannot be fundamentally dignified.
No matter how deep Lee Hyang's affection for me may be, and no matter how sincere it is from his perspective, the way he treats me is, at its core, no different from how a master treats a pet cat.
He is in the position to choose at any time. And even if I choose not to give him my heart, he is the Crown Prince—one who could take my body by force if he wished.
In the modern world, I could pack a suitcase and leave if I refused to live like a doll. But this is the medieval era—there is nowhere to run with a bundle in hand.]
After writing this far, Yunseo set down her brush and looked up once more at the pitch-dark night sky.
Then she picked up the brush again and wrote:
[Is there truly nowhere to run?]
After setting the brush down, Yunseo crossed her arms over her shoulders and hugged herself tightly.
Clutching one's own body like this was a way to awaken physical sensation—something that often dulled and disappeared when the mind became paralyzed by fear.
Those who have long endured abuse and terror often lose a full sense of their physical awareness. As they repeatedly shut down their senses to protect themselves, their ability to see, hear, and feel in everyday life also deteriorates.
And with dulled bodily awareness, they lose the instinct to properly perceive their surroundings, leaving them vulnerable to further danger.
[Life must be one where I can choose not to run.]
She wrote again, then turned her head to look at Hongwi, sleeping beyond the paper door.
Even if she found a way to escape, the greatest reason she would ultimately choose not to run was right there—Hongwi, clutching that small piece of cloth like a lifeline.
At last, the thread of her thoughts flowed into the memory of the Seoul International Marathon—from Gwanghwamun to Jamsil.
She had participated twice. The course began at Jonggak in front of Gwanghwamun, passed Dongdaemun, ran by Gunja Station, turned west past Seoul Forest, then headed east again, crossing Jamsil Bridge to reach the main stadium in Jamsil.
In Yunseo's mind, that marathon route unfolded—though now, in this time, there would surely be mountains and fields where roads did not yet exist.
If she chose to run—
With Maeggeum's help, she could escape the palace and run without stopping to Jamsil ferry.
Then run a little further upstream, choosing a narrower part of the river where the current was faster, and gradually make her way across, letting herself drift with the flow until she reached the southern bank of the Han River—
Then continue running south, ever south—
Until she evaded any pursuers that might follow—
And somehow carve out another life in a harsh and unfamiliar world.
Like a scene from a film, a clear path of choice took shape before her.
Finally, Yunseo picked up the brush and wrote her last thought:
[If I can run away at any time, then life becomes something bearable—something even to be enjoyed.]
Afterward, she tore the paper she had carefully written into tiny pieces—so small that no one could ever reconstruct what had been written—and placed them into a silk pouch, hiding it beneath the desk panel.
Then she returned to her bedding and held Hongwi tightly.
Now, she had gained the courage to face King Sejong—while preserving at least a handful of dignity.
"What was the reason you held yourself and patted your own body before? Why would you do such a thing? And afterward—why did you become as if a different person, boldly meeting my gaze?"
That was King Sejong's first question, spoken as Yunseo entered Cheonchujeon, performed her formal greeting, and lay prostrated on the floor.