Spring Snow - Chapter 5 Part 4

Could he truly become Emperor? Could he kill Ju Yun-hyeop and ascend the throne? But the problem was that if he didn’t kill Ju Yun-hyeop, Yun-hyeop would eventually kill him. Because the brothers were traitors who had killed their own father.

Ju Yun-hyeop already knew that the Empress Dowager, Minister Yu, and the brothers were accomplices in the assassination of the previous Emperor. But knowing alone wasn’t enough to eliminate the royal family and the minister. They could only wait, holding their breath. So, it was either kill or be killed. And the Empress Dowager had already succeeded once before. What more was there to hesitate about?

“I will follow Your Majesty’s wishes.”

He bowed his head. The Empress Dowager gazed at Prince Yeon, who bowed with apparent satisfaction. He would make a good puppet. Just like his mother had been. He would become a very useful piece. She looked at him with eyes that seemed to say there could be no greater filial son, then rose from her seat.

She waved her hand dismissively as Prince Yeon offered to see her out. After telling Prince Gang to take care of his health, she adjusted her veil and walked toward the back gate of the royal residence. A small, black sedan chair awaited her there. She recalled her youthful and foolish days. It was Ju Hui-gang who had made her the most foolish back then. And it was Ju Hui-gang who had made her the most cunning. That man.

There had been a time when she loved him. It was a story from her very young days. The most beautiful time of her life. But beautiful things always wither, and withered things inevitably turn ugly.

Among all the people she knew, there was no one who hadn’t met such a fate. The Empress Dowager stood before the sedan chair, glanced back at the royal residence, and then stepped inside. Could she have become a little less ugly? If only it hadn’t been for Ju Hui-gang.

As she entered the sedan chair, it began to move. She closed her eyes. The outline of Ju Yun-hyeop flickered in her mind, but then a man with darker features appeared. It was Ju Hui-gang. Different from her older brother, Gyeong-hyo. Not a single aspect of his outline overlapped with her brother’s.

He was a man she had once loved. The one to whom she had wanted to dedicate her youth. Was that why she hated Consort Hwa, Hwa Seol-ran, even more? Because she monopolized his affection? During the time she considered the Emperor her husband, it was excruciatingly painful to see him embrace only Hwa Seol-ran. So, she jealously resented her, unable to hide her envy… She loathed Hwa Seol-ran, who had set up her household not in a palace granted to her but in Hwasimjeon Hall. When she heard that Hwa Seol-ran had embraced the Emperor, she went to her bedchamber while the Emperor was away and tore off her sleeping robes. She remembered the day she watched Hwa Seol-ran, writhing to keep her dignity intact, and felt her heart blacken with hatred.

Why did he love only Hwa Seol-ran? Even if a concubine received love, it couldn’t be monopolized like that. No Emperor had ever been so bound to a concubine.

Yeo Suk-young, who had admired the handsome Crown Prince Hui-gang in her youth, began to darken little by little from that time. As soon as she became Empress, the man she had yearned for forced her to take responsibility for the children he had with other women.

But even that was bearable. After all, she wasn’t the one who would raise them. However, she couldn’t even choose the nurses, eunuchs, or palace maids who attended Hwa Seol-ran’s children. She couldn’t see them as she wished. How could that be called being a mother?

It was nothing but borrowing enemies. Bitterness began to grow within her. It was an act of registering only the children in the Empress’s family register and raising them in the inner palace. Thus, if Hwa Seol-ran couldn’t see her children as she wished, neither could she.

She couldn’t understand it. It was beyond comprehension. But what was even more humiliating was… killing the feeling of love. The purest feeling. The pure affection she had held was murdered by Hui-gang’s hands.

When was it? One night, when she was alone in her chambers, Hui-gang came to her. It was a day when her mind had been particularly hazy after noon. The night he came, she thought she had embraced him. It was a night of humiliation, just like Consort Gil’s…

Suk-young still didn’t know who had held her that night. Consort Gil, who had been executed, probably didn’t know either. But after that night, Suk-young became pregnant. She thought she was carrying Hui-gang’s child and, with tears of joy, ran to him.

The man burst into laughter and said nothing. Was it mockery? Suk-young felt herself breaking apart as she watched him laugh. She immediately asked for a maternity chamber to be prepared. But he pretended not to hear, ignoring her and playing with his little child. It was Hwa Seol-ran’s first son. Though he pretended not to care for the child in front of Hwa Seol-ran, he would occasionally bring the child to play and dote on him.

Suk-young stared at him blankly before returning to her palace. It felt as if thorns were embedded in her steps. And then she miscarried. Who had applied musk to her accessories? Who had put apricot kernel powder in her porridge? They said that even a small amount of musk could cause the uterus to contract if it was weak.

Women like that often miscarried easily, they said. Who had done it? Who? Could it have been Consort Hwa, that woman? Did she fear that if Suk-young bore a son, her own son’s position would be threatened? Her teeth clenched. She cried as she looked at the blood-stained undergarments. Even when she cried, saying the child had died, the Emperor didn’t come to her. It was the same even when she fainted from crying.

Anger, fear, and sorrow overwhelmed her entire body. Consort Hwa. Hwa Seol-ran. She vowed to kill that woman’s child. She swore to return the same pain. She gritted her teeth dozens, hundreds of times. It was a time stained with tears of blood.

But the Emperor did not conduct a proper investigation into her miscarriage. When did she realize it? That the one who had killed the child in her womb was the Emperor himself. That it was none other than him who had killed Suk-young’s child. But why…?

Why would he kill his own child? She had heard that there were many Emperors who, even knowing that a concubine had killed another concubine’s child, chose not to intervene. It was said that the men of the Ju family were particularly ruthless and cruel, so if Hui-gang was the same, there was nothing she could do.

There were also countless Emperors who had used medicine on their concubines to prevent pregnancy. They were concerned about the distribution of power that would come with a pregnancy. But this was the first time she had heard of an Emperor being so cruel to his Empress. Hui-gang was the only one who had killed his own legitimate child with his own hands.

She couldn’t understand Hui-gang. No matter how much he disliked her, how could he go so far as to harm his own child…? She was biting her pillow, crying, when someone lifted her up as she groaned in pain and gave her medicine. It was Yu Gyeong-hyo.

Brother Gyeong-hyo…

His face was pale. Though not as handsome as the Emperor, he was a well-built man from Honam. Gyeong-hyo’s hand rested on her forehead, which was burning with fever. That must have been the moment. Her shattered heart began to slowly piece itself back together. Though she had seen his face countless times as her brother’s friend, coming and going from their home, in that moment, there wasn’t a single feature—his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose—that didn’t make her heart race. She blinked as warmth slowly spread from the depths of her chest.

From that moment on, she and Gyeong-hyo became lovers. He confessed that he had admired her for a long time. He whispered that if she hadn’t been destined to be the Emperor’s consort, he would have confessed his feelings to her sooner. Even after marrying another, he said he couldn’t forget her, and the tears he secretly shed had formed a river.

Thanks to Gyeong-hyo’s love, Suk-young was able to endure life in the palace. He told her that the child she had been carrying wasn’t Hui-gang’s. He said that Hui-gang had sent a subordinate who resembled him to deceive her. Her entire body trembled as if it would shatter, and she gritted her teeth. She vowed to take revenge. She would surely return this sorrow and anger. Even if it wasn’t Hui-gang’s child, it was still her child. Hwa Seol-ran and the Emperor had to know the pain of losing a child.

And so, she killed Hwa-yeo. The anger that had filled her from head to toe seemed to subside a little. Life in the palace also improved because of Gyeong-hyo. Since she no longer desired the Emperor, she wasn’t hurt by the man who no longer looked her way.

Around that time, she became pregnant with Gyeong-hyo’s child. Her health was poor, so she left the palace to recuperate at a villa owned by her family. It was something she likely couldn’t have managed alone. But Gyeong-hyo was someone who would do anything for her.

He persuaded the Emperor, who had been reluctant to let her leave the palace, to allow her to go. It was close to the time of her delivery. If she had delayed any longer, she might have had to give birth in the palace. Did the Emperor suspect something? On the day she left the palace, the Emperor’s lips curled into a sinister smile. The words he muttered were chilling.

“When you return, the Empress’s body will be a little lighter.”

It was a cold, eerie smile. A horrifying farewell. Suk-young left the palace without looking back. And she gave birth to Garan. Of course, she couldn’t raise the child as her own, so she had to separate from her immediately. The child became the offspring of Gyeong-hyo’s servant.

Since the legal wife hadn’t become pregnant, and even if she had, the timing of the birth couldn’t be aligned, the child could only be recognized as the offspring of a concubine. But Gyeong-hyo registered the child in his legal wife’s family register and raised her as his legitimate daughter. It was a well-executed plan.

It was a fortunate outcome. But thinking of the child brought tears to her eyes. The baby had left her arms in less than ten days, which made it even harder. Gyeong-hyo occasionally brought the child into the palace and delivered the clothes and embroidery Suk-young had made for her, but the emptiness was unbearable.

Seeing Hwa Seol-ran’s children in her arms within the vast palace made it even worse. After Hwa-yeo’s death, Hwa Seol-ran attempted to flee. It was her second escape. The Emperor was furious at her for abandoning her young son, the Crown Prince, and the Crown Prince grew distant from her, feeling betrayed by his mother.

The second escape… Hwa Seol-ran was captured before she could leave Yangcheon and dragged back to the palace. After being brought back, she attempted to take her own life but barely survived. The Emperor no longer took children from the woman who had survived. Suk-young also no longer had to take responsibility for Hwa Seol-ran’s children.

But it was horrifying to hear the cries of the children born by the man and woman she despised, rather than her own child, in the palace where she ate, slept, and lived. It was equally horrifying to see the children born after Hwa Seol-ran’s suicide growing up in her arms.

Everything was horrifying. The very fact of living in the palace until Hui-gang’s death…

Suk-young stepped out of the sedan chair. Arriving at the imperial palace, she saw Hwirak Palace brightly lit by spherical lanterns. She thought the years of vengeance had ended with Hui-gang’s death. The ridicule she faced, the risk of her affair and illegitimate child being exposed, and even the possibility of being revealed as the true culprit behind Hwa-yeo’s death. But Gyeong-hyo said:

“We’re still in the tiger’s jaws, Suk-young. We let the tiger’s cub live.”

Gyeong-hyo’s eyes gleamed coldly. Only then did Suk-young realize that their mission wasn’t over. When she mentioned using the Emperor as a pawn for Garan’s sake, Gyeong-hyo laughed.

“Why bother using him as a pawn? This filthy Ju family’s nation. The nation that will bind us forever… We just need to end it.”

For a moment, her breath stopped. Her pulse raced. Gyeong-hyo took her hand. As long as the Wu nation continued, they could never find peace. Whether it was Yun-hyeop or Prince Yeon, even if they told Garan who her mother was and why they had to hide it, they could never live as parent and child.

Even if they loved each other so deeply, they could never live as husband and wife. It was sickening. She wanted to live as Gyeong-hyo’s wife, even if just for a moment. She wanted to live as Garan’s mother.

“Let’s destroy it ourselves. With our own hands…”
***
The journey back to the palace wasn’t long. Eun-hwan bid her mother farewell with a heavy heart. Her mother cried for a long time, not knowing when she would see her daughter again. Despite Seo Chi-yoon’s admonishment that it was improper to cry in front of the Emperor and his concubine, she couldn’t hold back her tears, weeping like a child.

Holding her mother, whose face was flushed red from crying, Eun-hwan promised to return before the Double Ninth Festival. Her mother, her face wet with tears, whispered, “Autumn feels so far away, Eun-hwan.” It was hard to leave.

If Seo Chi-yoon hadn’t forcibly pulled them apart, what would have happened? Eun-hwan watched her mother cling to Seo Chi-yoon as if he were her husband, her gaze complex, before she boarded the carriage. The Emperor watched it all with an indifferent expression.

Upon returning to the bustling palace, preparations for the Emperor’s wedding were in full swing. The atmosphere was lively with excitement as they prepared to welcome the Empress. Eun-hwan returned to the palace amidst it all. Back at Hwa Shim-jeon, she found the Emperor trying on his dragon robe, still acting as if none of this concerned him.

To avoid seeing it, she wandered outside the palace, claiming she needed a walk. Yet, even outside, she couldn’t escape the chaos. Palace maids from the Inner Court bustled about, preparing the bridal chamber, and eunuchs from the Royal Kitchen came to discuss the wedding feast with the Emperor’s eunuchs.

The disarray was overwhelming. Exhausted, Eun-hwan wandered outside Hwa Shim-jeon, only to return and find the Emperor standing before her in his dragon robe. The bridal chamber had been transformed, with the golden bed, quilts, and even the small potted plant on the table all replaced.

“Why do you wander around so tiredly without resting?”

The Emperor, who was being dressed by the eunuchs, turned to look at her. Normally, palace maids would handle such tasks, but the Emperor disliked being touched by women other than Eun-hwan, so even changing his clothes was left to the eunuchs. Yet now, this same man was preparing to share the wedding wine with another woman and remove her red bridal veil—a veil Eun-hwan herself had never worn, as she had never had a wedding.

“Gabi.”

The Emperor looked at Eun-hwan, who stood there with a dazed expression. She lowered her gaze to the floor and shook her head.

“…I just felt a little stifled.”

In truth, she was utterly exhausted. The change in her living quarters had left her nerves frayed, and the carriage ride had made her nauseous. But nothing was as uncomfortable as Hwa Shim-jeon, which was being transformed into the bridal chamber.

The Emperor, now fully dressed in his dragon robe, approached her. Eun-hwan bit her lip, wanting to flee. His large hand gripped her shoulder. She wanted to crumble, to shatter into pieces and cease to exist in his presence.

“Where did you go?”

“I… I went for a walk.”

The Emperor stared at her silently. Eun-hwan, uncomfortable under his gaze, tilted her head slightly. A rough force gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Stay within Hwa Shim-jeon for now.”

“But…”

“Didn’t you enjoy the flowers enough in the southwest?”
His lips pressed against her pale ones. Eun-hwan accepted the kiss, her eyes wandering over the bridal chamber beyond his shoulder. When the Emperor pulled away, she looked at him, her eyes wide.

“I want to go to Yeongso-jeon.”

“Why there?”

“It’s the palace you granted me.”

“It’s not a place you’ve ever stayed in.”

It was a ridiculous statement. She had never stayed in the palace granted to her. But now, she wanted to live there. She didn’t want to sleep in the bed where the Empress would lie. She thought of the night when the Emperor would share the wedding wine with his new bride, the night they would lie together in that bed. Whether he held her or not… What would Eun-hwan be doing that night? How would she endure it? If only she were pregnant, holding a child in her arms, it might have been different. Could she endure such a life? No. She couldn’t. The horror she had suppressed was slowly creeping back.

“Gabi.”

His deep voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“This is the bridal chamber… where the Empress and Your Majesty will spend your wedding night…”

Her words trailed off. The clumsy words she spat out were horrifying. Eun-hwan’s cheeks flushed as she lowered her gaze. She blinked rapidly, then pressed her lips together. The Emperor’s large hand, which had been gripping her shoulder, now cupped her cheek. It was hard to face him. Just being in the same space, their gazes entangled, was torture.

“So you want to go to Yeongso-jeon?”

“Yes.”

“Leaving Yu Ga-ran and me here?”

“…Yes.”

“Do you want me to hold Yu Ga-ran? In this room where I held you…”

Her lips trembled. Her legs, which had been standing firm, shook uncontrollably. Eun-hwan’s lips quivered. The Emperor was smiling. Why was he smiling? Why? Did he enjoy seeing her suffer?

“Your Majesty…”

“That day, I will hold you.”

Her breath came out in wet, shallow gasps. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. The Emperor’s lips curled slightly. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I will hold you. So that Yu Ga-ran can hear.”

Her chest tightened. The Emperor’s large fingers wiped her cheek. He kissed her familiarly, gripping her hips. When she tried to twist away, he guided her hand to his erect member.

***

The weather was bright. Eun-hwan stared at Yu Ga-ran, dressed in the grand wedding attire. With the ceremonial robe and the phoenix crown, she looked incredibly beautiful. Her thin eyebrows, delicately painted, and the evenly applied white powder on her face complemented the striking red on her lips. Her petite frame made her a perfect match for the Emperor, who stood tall and imposing beside her. The sight of the two of them together stirred a strange feeling in Eun-hwan. Her heart, which she thought could no longer ache, felt oddly numb.

The Emperor and the Empress faced each other in front of the gathered officials, bowing respectfully. Eun-hwan’s eyes darted around. The Empress Dowager, who she thought would be smiling with satisfaction, wore a blank expression. Prime Minister Yu was the same. Consort Hwa, pale as death, watched her son and his bride with a hollow gaze. Eun-hwan, unable to bear the sight of the Emperor and Ga-ran united as husband and wife, briefly lowered her gaze to the floor.

She had tried to prepare herself, knowing everything that was to come, but it was no use. The Emperor was no longer her sole husband. She had repeated this to herself dozens of times as the warm season approached, yet… She took a deep, shaky breath and raised her head.

Under the bright spring sunlight, the Empress’s phoenix crown gleamed. Adorned with nine dragons and four phoenixes, the crown shone brightly atop Ga-ran’s head. Eun-hwan stared at her, then shook her head. Her head was spinning. Since last night, a lukewarm fever had been simmering in her forehead. The Emperor had held her in Hwa Shim-jeon until last night. She didn’t know where he would sleep tonight. He had said he would stay with her tonight. How miserable would the night be, knowing he had just celebrated his wedding with another woman? It would be utterly devastating. Her body already felt like it was crumbling. Just enduring the present moment was overwhelming. The breath entering her nostrils felt scorching. She feared she might faint from the blood rushing to her head.

She truly shouldn’t be vomiting blood, but her stomach felt prickly. As a concubine, she had attended the Emperor’s wedding ceremony. Had it been because she hadn’t eaten properly for days? The Emperor had sat her down at the breakfast table and fed her porpoon, her face pale and lifeless.

“Your phoenix crown will shine just as brightly. Why do you look like that?”

He had said this when he saw her staring at her own phoenix crown instead of him. She was his only concubine. Thus, she had participated in the ceremony as a concubine, wearing a phoenix crown. Not the same as the Empress’s, but still… She didn’t respond, just stared blankly at him. The Emperor, dressed in his wedding robes, sat before her. She kept wanting to look away, tilting her head slightly, when he held out a small ring.

“My father gave this to my mother.”

The late Emperor to Consort Hwa… Hui-gang to Seol-ran… It was a silver ring with a small ruby in the center. A butterfly and a pomegranate were delicately engraved on it. Why was he giving this to her now?

“Someday, I’ll let you wear the red bridal veil. Really. It will all be over soon.”

“…”

“The pain is only temporary, Eun-hwan.”

She didn’t respond. His lips crashed into hers. His soft tongue filled her mouth. Her lips were crushed, smudging the rouge. The Emperor slid the ring onto Eun-hwan’s slender finger. If he whispered sweet nothings with that soft tongue, she wouldn’t believe a word of it.