—Let me see your face, Jin.
Jin.
Jin slowly raised her head toward the Queen. This was only the second time she was meeting her since being given her name by the King. Jin had wondered what the Queen would call her.
—Raise your head higher.
She did. The woman in the kimono standing next to the Queen also looked closely at Jin’s face. The Queen spoke again.
—Would you like to try?
The woman in the kimono gave a slight start.
—Take an arrow. Let us see how good you are.
Jin moved among the court ladies to where the arrows were. Soa handed her the arrow she was holding. In the handoff, Jin briefly squeezed Soa’s hand. Soa also quickly grasped Jin’s hand before letting go. Jin, her form accentuated by the line of her purple dress, threw the arrow precisely into the bronze urn. The Queen alone clapped as everyone else stared.
—Jin, I believe this child has finally met her match!
So Chonsil’s daughter, an almost imperceptible frown in her small eyes and mouth, gave the queen a brief bow.
—The legate is here so I must give him my audience. We shall continue this some other day.
Victor and Jin followed the Queen. So Chonsil’s daughter, holding an arrow in her hand, stood until she couldn’t see Jin anymore.
Geoncheonggung, the compound they were in, was the farthest court building from the main gate of Gyeongbokgung Palace. The King had built it in secret from the Regent and even his royal council. When the council found out, the courtiers loyal to the Regent were vociferous in their condemnation of the construction. But the King completed it anyway. The palace within the palace represented the King’s desire to stand on his own feet.
But instead of taking them to the new compound, the Queen led them to the Pagoda of Far-reaching Fragrance.
The pagoda was striking in its beauty, even from afar as it stood on an island in a pond. The Queen stopped the retinue on the arch of a bridge overlooking it.
—Geoncheonggung was where the first electric lights in Korea were installed. Only nine years after a man named Edison invented them.
Victor gave Jin a look, perplexed that the Queen was suddenly talking about electric lights. Geoncheonggung, compared to Gyeongbokgung proper, was modest. The King had fled from the Japanese into Changdeokgung, but soon after returned to Gyeongbokgung. Jin understood why the Queen chose the obscure Geoncheonggung as her refuge in the palace. Its secretive nature was probably safer than the main parts of the palace. The Queen was probably reluctant to show its interior to Victor.
—We use the water from this pond to create the steam that generates Geoncheonggung’s light. That’s why we all call it “water-fire.”
Before the installation of the electric lights, the palace was lit with porcelain or earthenware oil lamps. Candles made from beeswax and tallow gave off smoke and an unpleasant smell. Jin remembered the awe she felt when the interior of the palace was lit up as bright as day in the middle of the night. Courtiers often visited Geoncheonggung to admire the electric lights.
Jin glanced at the Queen’s face as she stood looking out at the pagoda, but what she saw pained her so much that she lowered her head again.
The Queen’s face had changed.
Her thin eyes and flawless, pale skin were still the same. But the grace that once shielded her intentions had vanished, as well as her regal poise. Instead, her face showed irritation, an indication of deeply seated tension and anxiety.
—Your acting legate, Lefèvre, is a very frustrating man.
She was talking about the matter of commissioning a residential French legation. The report the acting legate had sent, about the King’s formal request for this appointment, sat neglected on the desk of the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Lefèvre was also not interested in this issue, being more concerned with negotiating the price of the Japanese-owned houses adjacent to the cathedral being built by Bishop Mutel. Victor bowed his head, unable to look the Queen in the eye. The Queen had surely not forgotten that this was something they’d discussed when Victor had requested Jin’s hand in marriage before the King. According to Müllendorf, the Japanese legate Miura had informed the Queen that Japan was considering a permanent legation in Korea. The Queen had been pitting Russia against Japan in an attempt to stave off the latter’s influence, but soon she would no longer be able to keep Japan out of Korea’s affairs.
—I am sure that France would not like Japan’s influence in this country to grow indefinitely?
But France did not want to make an enemy of Japan, either. France was more interested in Japan than Korea, and more interested in China than Japan. Which was why they were unhappy with Japan winning their war against China. If Japan invaded Liandong, France’s position in China would weaken. France’s policy was no different from Korea’s in its leaning toward China when Japan became stronger and leaning toward Japan when China became stronger, in an attempt to keep the balance of power.
—I need your help.
—Your Majesty, the matter of a permanent legation is not something Lefèvre can decide on his own. France has to step in. And I am not here as a diplomat for my country, so it is not my place to advise in any capacity.
The Queen turned to him.
—You haven’t changed. Do you plan on taking that girl back to France?
—Of course.
Victor looked up at the Queen, inquiringly.
—Of course, you say . . . But if it is such a matter of course, why did you not keep your promise when you took her away? In Korea, there are Korean laws. If you took her, you should have held a formal wedding ceremony and made it clear that she was your wife. I feel that we gave you ample opportunity to do so.
How did she know that they had never held a wedding ceremony? Victor glanced at Jin.
—You don’t have to look at her.
Jin was utterly taken aback. No one had asked her about Victor since her arrival in Korea, and Jin had talked to no one about him. The Queen had known Jin was in Korea; they had sent word through Lady Suh twice, but no summons had come from the palace. Then, suddenly, they had been called to the palace that very morning.
—If you bring her here without having wed her, the girl retains her old status.
—Her old status, Your Majesty?
—She remains a court lady.
Silence flowed between the three. So this was why Lady Suh had such a grim expression.
—If you’re thinking of taking that girl back to France, move fast. That is why I summoned you here. You have very little time . . . But leave her here with me at the palace tonight. I shall send her back to you in the morning.
The Queen left Victor and Jin on the bridge and walked away to the other side.
Nothing can replace an old friend. After Victor left on his own, Lady Suh brought Soa to Jin. With one young woman in her lady attendant dress and the other in Parisian fashion, the two slowly walked side by side in the palace where they had spent their younger years together. At one point, Soa reached out and held Jin’s hand. Despite her Embroidery Chamber affiliation, Soa was sometimes called to watch over the Queen in her sleep. The Queen changed her ladies-in-waiting whenever she felt their faces became known to outsiders. She was also said to frequently change her place of sleep, and the court ladies wouldn’t know until very late where the Queen’s bed would be that night. Kings were known to do this, but it was unheard of for a queen. Wherever she slept, the Queen made sure Hong Gyehoon stood guard. This was the man who helped her escape the treasonous soldiers during the Year of the Black Horse.
—She only feels safe with General Hong by her side.
Jin hadn’t sensed the Queen’s desperation when Paul Choi explained the situation to her, but the news felt different coming from Soa. When the Queen led them to the pagoda, she kept looking back as if she were afraid someone was following her. Jin had also looked back; she could see a line of bodyguards approaching at a distance. Only when the Queen saw them d
id she seem to feel less anxious. Did she feel so threatened that not even the palace felt safe to her? Jin was afraid her knees would give out.
Late that night, Lady Suh led Jin from Soa’s quarters not to Geoncheonggung but to the Queen’s Chambers. Despite Jin’s asking, Lady Suh would not tell her where they were going. When they reached the Queen’s Chambers, Lady Suh finally murmured, “She hasn’t slept here in a long time.” This was where Jin had performed the Dance of the Spring Oriole for the Queen before leaving for Paris. Soa followed them to the Queen’s Chambers but had to wait outside. The guards had blocked her from entering. Only then did she let go of Jin’s hand.
Lady Suh guided Jin into the Queen’s Chambers, where Jin suddenly stood rooted on the spot.
The Queen sat on her bedding in her white sleep clothes. Her hair ornaments had been removed, allowing her long black braid to fall to her shoulder. The Queen raised her head.
—Sit.
Jin sat before the bedding.
—Closer.
Jin sat closer.
—Sleep here with me tonight.
—Your Majesty . . .
—Yes. I know it’s not done. I’ve heard countless times about how things are not done. I shall not hear of it from you. Do you not have many things to say to me? We could talk all night and not say all the things we wish to say. When will we ever have this chance again? Do not speak to me about what can’t be done. Did we not share the same bed for countless nights during the Year of the Black Horse?
The Year of the Black Horse. The Queen’s mentioning of that year silenced Jin’s heart. Not only had they shared the same bed but sometimes the same quilt. There were days when the only way of knowing they weren’t alone was through the body heat of the other. They had lain side by side and gazed at the moonlight glowing behind the paper screen of the sliding doors.
—An attendant is fetching some water so that you can wash.
The attendant arrived, and Jin washed her hands in the metal basin with the Chinese character for luck stamped on the bottom. She washed her face, too. She could scarcely breathe and took a moment to simply stare down at the water. Then, she took off her dress and put on sleeping robes. The Queen, her head lying on a pillow embroidered with a turtle shell pattern, flicked back the edge of the blanket with her own hand for Jin to climb in.
Jin lay next to the Queen.
There the Queen lay, just a stretch of the hand away.
She could smell her faint scent. Underneath the blanket, Jin placed her hand on her own heart. She was this close to the Queen, but she felt as lonely as that time she became lost at the morgue by the Seine and Maupassant found her at the bottom of a staircase.
—I had a dream last night. I entered a pagoda at dawn, but it was empty. There was a silk bundle there, which I unwrapped. Written on it was the name of someone I knew well. I was reading the name when someone told me she had died. I was so saddened that I began to cry, I felt my own life would end.
—. . .
—Such a strange thing. To be saddened enough to die, and yet unable to remember the name when I woke.
—. . .
—It would not come to me, despite all the pain the name caused. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night. I keep hearing footsteps. I see Japanese or Chinese people with swords, and once I saw you.
The Queen pressed her own forehead. A habit of hers, for when she was feeling distressed. If only she’d go to sleep with good thoughts, then she wouldn’t have bad dreams.
After some restlessness, the Queen finally sat up.
—I believe I need a cigarette.
Lady Suh had said the Queen might request a cigarette if she were having trouble falling asleep. The Queen in the past would ask Jin to read to her on sleepless nights. Jin had read countless books to the Queen over the years. It seemed that she could no longer be lulled to sleep through the sound of reading. Jin got up and lit one of the rolled cigarettes prepared beforehand and offered it to the Queen. The flower patterning on the filter end was exquisite. As the room filled with the scent of tobacco, the Queen’s voice, calmer now, came to Jin once more.
—Yes, so what do they say about me outside the palace? What do they call me? A fox-demon? A fox-demon who made the King stand against his own father, who brought the Chinese into court just for the sake of my position? A fox-demon who killed innocent peasants using the swords of the Japanese?
—Your Majesty . . .
Heartbroken, Jin gripped the cupronickel ring on her hand. It was the one the Queen had given her before she left for France. Victor had wordlessly watched her put it on as they prepared for their journey back to Korea. She had never worn it in Paris.
—Does it seem that way, too, to someone who has come back from breathing new air?
The Queen was never one to show what she was truly thinking. When she wasn’t sure of her position, she would fall silent. She would make others talk more than she would talk herself. The Queen had once been astute like this, weighing the different sides of each position, ever logical in her thinking.
—Hong Jong-u told me how you were getting on in France. He says you have a talent for translating Korean stories into French. How did you come across the Korean book you sent through him?
—Through a painter named Régamey in France, Your Majesty. I found it in his studio. He didn’t know it was a Korean book. There are many booksellers along the river Seine. He said he had only bought it out of curiosity and allowed me to have it in exchange for posing for him. The books the French stole from Ganghwa Island are stored in their library.
—Have you seen them?
—I have.
—That such a precious thing should end up at a used-book seller!
The Queen held out her cigarette stub, which still had some tobacco left. Jin snubbed it out and placed it on a table. The Queen lay down on the bedding again and closed her eyes.
To some, even a whole night can feel like a short moment.
—I have read the Maupassant stories that you translated. Is that all of it?
—No, Your Majesty. They are a selection. I’m afraid I’m not good enough to have done all of them.
—I see. I had a feeling there were more. I did not like them. How could a woman’s life be turned into such a meaningless thing by one man? It seems that it is just as tragic to be born a woman there, over an ocean, as it is here.
—It was not a place of equality between men and women, indeed. Just ten years ago, women were not allowed to enter cafés. Even now, men may sit inside, but women may sit only at the tables outside. Perhaps because so many different people live there, they also have racial discrimination. But they have a tolerance that we do not have in Korea.
—Tolerance?
—There was a freedom to think differently and live one’s own life. A way of thinking that respected the way others thought and lived. Parisians seemed to feel pride in being different from other people. That kind of thinking created the Eiffel Tower and built hospitals, department stores, and markets, and raised doctors, philosophers, painters, and writers.
—What do you think is the foremost thing that Korea should emulate?
—Establishing schools and teaching children how to read.
The Queen let out a deep, weary sigh. Jin continued.
—I believe teaching illiterate children how to read is the most urgent task. I felt that the most fundamental thing of all was to help the people express their thoughts freely. And giving the people opportunities to venture out into the world and learn of new ways would help Korea strengthen itself as a country.
—How ideal such a thing would be.
The Queen sighed again, tossing underneath the blanket.
—And how did Hong Jong-u conduct himself in Paris?
—He never took off his Korean robes and carried photographs of the King at all times. He never lost his devotion to Korea. Korea is mysterious to the French. He tried to tell them about it as much as possible.
<
br /> —He carried a photograph of the King?
—Yes. He said he looked at it in times of difficulty.
Jin did not mention that he also carried a photo of the Regent as well. She recalled how Hong’s face had reddened when she turned down his offer of the photos when he visited her before he left Paris.
—How was he with you?
—I helped his work.
—Is that all?
—Yes, Your Majesty.
—He has petitioned the King. Presented him with a detailed list of the wrongs the French legate has done to a Korean court dancer. It is legally indisputable.
Hong Jong-u? Did he know she was in Korea now? Jin suddenly realized that she felt a weight pressing down on her heart whenever she thought of him.
—When were you loneliest in France?
—When I wanted to know who I was.
—All right. Then who are you?
—I do not know. I am like the dust, like the grass, like the clouds . . .
—In the end, we are all nothing.
Her pronouncement was like another sigh. Jin turned to look at her. The Queen was asleep. Jin propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at her. When the Queen’s breathing evened out, Jin gently lifted the Queen’s hand from her forehead and laid it down.
Insomnia is like waiting for someone who would never arrive.
Jin felt the Queen sit up three times throughout the night. She sat there in the dark, lost in thought. When she first got up, her deep sighs grazed Jin’s face. The second time, she lit a cigarette on her own. When had she begun to smoke so? Jin breathed in the smoke and watched the Queen through narrowed eyes. The Queen’s hair in its thick braid, falling on her shoulder, was blacker than night. The third time she sat up, the Queen raised one of her knees and leaned an elbow against it, her hand to her forehead. Deep in thought, she occasionally pressed the flesh around her eye sockets. Presently, she turned to Jin.
The Court Dancer Page 31