Proving One's Use (5)
Though it was late in the night, the gates of the city bristled with a vigilance stricter than anywhere else.
The procession passed through the gates, receiving the measured salutes of the soldiers, and soon a village bathed in moonlight unfolded out of the darkness.
Seoin had never been to the Museon Empire, but she had known it to be a country smaller than Danya. Yet this village was larger than Danya's own capital. Had the Museon Empire flourished since the young king took the throne?
"Yes. It must be the capital."
Seoin agreed with Segwang's words, but her puzzlement only deepened.
Is there something that must be smuggled in without the people knowing? Some affair that must never reach the ears of the common folk?
Then it occurred to her that the thing being smuggled in might be her. Perhaps they feared that the people's hatred for the Princess of Danya ran deeper than imagined, and that she might be pelted with stones the moment she was seen.
If that were so, even the King would find it hard to spare my life out of concern for public sentiment.
Amid worry and doubt, the procession pressed steadily toward the palace. And at last, a palace appeared — one that resembled Danya's own, and yet did not.
Danya, which prized beauty above all, drew its rooflines in curves that soared toward the heavens, the eaves lifting higher and higher. The roofs of Museon had their own grace, but where Danya's eaves were lively, these were bold. She had been taught in the palace that Museon's culture and craftsmanship fell short of Danya's, that its artistic sensibility was lacking — but seeing it with her own eyes, that was not so at all. It was simply different. If anything, the near-straight lines of its curves, unexaggerated, carried a weighty, majestic charm all their own.
Come to think of it, Danya had been terribly arrogant all this while. How could one hope to win without truly knowing one's enemy?
Seoin felt a pang of regret. Right now, she herself knew nothing of Museon — not a single true thing. Even a single roofline was new to her, and so long as she remained ignorant of the empire's realities, she could not begin to guess what awaited her within those walls.
Before the great palace gates, the soldiers offered a formal salute, and the massive doors swung open.
Guuwoong—.
The heavy groan of the doors echoed, and beyond them red lanterns flickered brilliantly. Palaces kept their lights burning to guard against assassins, but this was far too bright. It was the very moment she registered how strange it was.
"Your Highness!"
A great many voices thundered as one, like rolling thunder. At the sound, Seoin frowned and looked ahead. At the halted front of the procession, she saw the young commander who had dragged her here step forward.
"!"
Her eyes went wide as she watched him.
"C-could it be... that man is...?"
Segwang's trembling voice was swallowed up by the chorus of shouts that followed.
"We greet Your Majesty, triumphant!"
All those lined up on either side of his retreating figure dropped to their knees in unison.
The King. So that man was the King of Museon.
Only now did Seoin understand everything. Why he had entered the capital in secret despite his victory. And what all that brash confidence of his had meant.
"It seems the honeyed trap should be shown to the King himself, not to your side."
"Ha. Hahaha."
The memory of that laughter rose up, and her face burned. Was it because she now knew he was the King?
His back, shrinking into the distance before her, somehow felt larger and larger with every step he took away from her.
Though it was late in the night, the ministers, having received word that the King would soon return in triumph, had been unable to go home since the day before, waiting for him. As if training his ministers to heel, the King arrived a full day later than promised — and then, unhurried, only took his seat at the banquet prepared in his honor after finishing his bath.
Behind the main hall of the palace, in the pavilion where the feast was held, the ministers were already seated in their places. It was less a celebration of victory than a celebration of the King's safe return — the Grand Commandant and the main army had not yet come back.
"We prayed to heaven day and night for Your Highness's safe return. It seems heaven has recognized our devotion. That you have come back without the slightest injury is truly a blessing."
"On the day word from the battlefield was cut off, every soul in the court held its breath. How could such anguish ever be put into words?"
To the tearful flattery of the Prime Minister and the Minister of War, the young King Seon Wiyeon replied as though amused.
"It seems dying without even leaving an heir would have been rather inconvenient."
"Your Highness! We sincerely wished only for your safe return."
"Indeed. Was it not a matter you all opposed? Safe and sound you may be, but had some calamity befallen you, what then? Never make such a reckless decision again. Your sacred body is not yours alone, is it not?"
"Ah. Quite right. I mustn't make a widow of your daughter."
"Th-that is not what I meant. Think of the people, Your Highness!"
Caught out, Prime Minister Yu Sookhyun raised his voice in flustered embarrassment. But the young King did not torment him further.
"I'm sorry you all suffered such anguish on my account. But I've brought a great gift back to our Museon, so let that ease your minds."
Only then did the ministers offer the returning conqueror of Danya a proper congratulation. When it was done, the King raised his cup and spoke.
"Once Danya is settled and the Grand Commandant and the army return, I will proclaim a new era name. Furthermore, I will ascend the throne as Emperor, so Minister of Rites, hasten the preparations without a single misstep."
"!"
Startled, they murmured into their raised cups.
"Is that not good? We have gained land; this is the natural next step. Danya will be divided into provinces, each governed by a lord we send. Minister of Personnel, recommend suitable candidates as well."
Sudden as it was, every word was sound. The Prime Minister and the Minister of War exchanged a glance and nodded once. Then the Prime Minister spoke.
"We greet Your Imperial Majesty!"
"We greet Your Imperial Majesty!"
All the ministers parroted the Prime Minister like so many caged birds. The enthronement had not yet taken place — but was this not a pleasant banquet all the same? Seon Wiyeon let out a faint laugh and drained his cup with gusto.
The ministers followed suit, emptying their cups, and at last the stiff atmosphere began to thaw — when—
"Ah. There's one thing I forgot to mention."
"?"
The King spoke up as though it had only just slipped his mind.
"I've acquired a rather useful trophy. I wonder if it will please you."
"And what might that be?"
"It seems Your Majesty has obtained a most precious trophy. You look very pleased with yourself."
"Do I? Though I'm not sure a fallen kingdom's princess still counts as a treasure."
"I beg your pardon?"
"The youngest princess of Danya. I have taken Jin Seoin."
"!"
They were all taken aback, but no one was more stunned than Prime Minister Yu Sookhyun. He had been cherishing the expectation that his daughter, currently a royal consort, would soon become not merely Queen but Empress. Now the King had brought home the Princess of Danya — and he had a premonition that the road ahead would not flow as smoothly as he wished.
Seoin parted from Segwang.
"Take him away."
"No! Where are you taking our princess! Kill me instead, you bastards!"
Segwang was hauled off somewhere with the captured soldiers, and Seoin was led away elsewhere as well. But she found she liked the place they had brought her to. Past a garden with a small pond and a modest pavilion, she was ushered into a graceful residence.
Segwang was taken to a prison cell, it seems, while I've been brought to quite a respectable quarters.
She had arrived flanked by soldiers, but inside, palace maids were waiting. The officer who had led Seoin in addressed them.
"By His Majesty's command. Wash her and dress her."
"Yes."
The maids obeyed without a word of protest, never asking who she was or what her relation to the King might be. Then the officer turned to Seoin, his face twisting, and added:
"You're commanded to wait here prettily."
She could guess why the officer had scowled so. It seemed the King had ordered the word "prettily" relayed exactly as spoken. Seoin answered only with a slight tilt of her head.
Prettily, is it...
Looking thoroughly weary, the officer hurried from the room. Only the maids remained.
"Filthy beyond bearing."
A vicious voice, thick with contempt, pierced Seoin's ears. The maids who had stood there so composed a moment ago no longer bothered to hide their disgust, their faces screwed up in open scorn.
"What are you standing there gawking for? Don't tell me we're supposed to strip off those filthy rags?"
"What is that smell? The whole room's going to reek of it. I'm going to be sick."
Caked layer upon layer with blood and sweat, dust and filth and who knew what else, unwashed for days on end — Seoin knew perfectly well how foul she smelled. But for the maids to hurl such open, vicious insults was another matter entirely. They didn't even know who she was; perhaps they simply took their cue from the officer's contempt and felt free to be cruel. They owed no courtesy to a fallen kingdom's princess, to be sure — but it felt like malice without purpose, and that puzzled her.
"I said, what are you doing! Strip, now!"
At the maid's prodding, Seoin finally spoke.
"The bathwater hasn't come yet."
"So? You plan to stand there until it does? Strip this instant! Those reeking rags are getting thrown out!"
It seemed these women wanted nothing more than to strip her bare and mock her. Being attended by palace maids was nothing new to her; standing naked before them held no shame. But the bathwater would be carried in by men. She could hardly be standing there stripped bare before they arrived.
"When the water comes, I'll wash myself. If the smell offends you so much, then you may wait outside."
It was Seoin, who had no wish to deal with these women at all, offering a step of concession. The trouble was, they had never had any intention of hearing her out in the first place.