The Prince of Pear Blossom and Snow

Something about today felt off. For a day when the Emperor was to hold a wedding ceremony, the palace was eerily quiet.

Yi-seol thought it must be because Yeon was different—on days when royalty held weddings there, the entire palace buzzed with noise. He wasn’t particularly disappointed; it was just a shame about all those wedding rituals he had practiced so many times for this day.

He had practiced so hard that his neck could barely stay straight. The memory of walking around the palace all day with a ceremonial flower balanced on his neck flickered in and out of his mind.

“Perhaps it’s for the best. Just thinking about going through with the wedding in all this regalia gave me a headache since this morning.”

“We apologize, Your Highness.”

“It’s fine, really.”

In a way, it truly might be for the best. When he thought about having to keep his head bowed throughout the ceremony with this heavy wig and ornamentation, Yi-seol had seriously worried that his neck might snap clean in half.

Being a man, his wig was smaller and had fewer hairpins than what women usually wore, but that was no comfort—the weight of the headdress was still substantial.

Each time more gold hairpieces were added to the wig, he had shaken his head in bewilderment, but at the firm words that the women of noble families wore even more elaborate attire for the ceremony, Yi-seol could only stiffen his slender neck to support the weight.

“Then what should I do now?”

“You are to go to the main hall, pay respects to the Emperor, and receive the rank and palace he bestows.”

“It’ll be over quicker than I thought. That’s a relief.”

“Are you tired?”

“A little. I want to go somewhere and rest soon. I also want to get out of this palanquin.”

“We will depart for the main hall where His Majesty is waiting.”

Yi-seol nodded, and Ki-yeon, who had been bowing, lowered the curtain again, hiding him from view. He didn’t know for sure, but since they had just entered the palace, it would probably take a while to reach the main hall. He remembered coming here once as a child, though the memory was faint. He recalled how everything under the midday sun had gleamed like gold, feeling like a whole new world. He had always wanted to come back if he got the chance, and now he had, just as he wished.

It was Ju-an, the hottest place in Geum. Perhaps because he had entered the palace grounds, where the midday sun was said to be the most scorching, the heat against his body began to feel even more intense. When his head started to feel a little dizzy, the palanquin stopped again. He didn’t know how much time had passed. Summer days in Ju-an were so long that it was hard to gauge time by the sun’s position, unlike in Yeon.

“Lord Yi-seol. We have arrived in front of the main hall.”

Hearing Lady Ju’s flat voice, a feeling of loneliness washed over him—was he the only one nervous here?

“You may come out now.”

Sunlight poured in through the wide-open palanquin door. Yi-seol immediately raised his sleeve to shield his eyes and stepped out, muttering to himself.

I have to get used to it… I have to get used to everything… This is where I’ll live now.

“You must walk carefully. Here, hold onto this side.”

“It’s fine. I can walk alone.”

“Lord Yi-seol, do as Lady Ju says. The stairs you need to climb are… many.”

His wig was so heavy that he couldn’t lift his head to look up at the stairs leading to the main hall’s gates. But because Ki-yeon’s voice sounded especially worried, he reluctantly grabbed the arm Lady Ju offered. Someone behind him seemed to lift the hem of his skirt—the weight of the clothes he had felt before getting into the palanquin was somewhat lessened, but his shoulders were still heavy, making it hard to straighten his chest.

You must keep your back straight.

He heard Lady Ju whisper quietly as they climbed the stairs, but he couldn’t straighten his back any further. The wig was heavy, the stairs were endless, and the blazing sun was merciless, scattering light everywhere. He seriously worried that his neck might actually snap off. Just as that thought crossed his mind, they finally reached the front of the main hall. While he caught his breath, the court ladies who had followed behind adjusted his clothes and ornaments once more.

“When the door opens, you may enter.”

“Lady Ju… aren’t the other courtiers coming in with me?”

“We will follow behind. But only you, Lord Yi-seol, will proceed before His Majesty the Emperor.”

Among all the things he had learned about the ceremony throughout the long day, there had been no mention of a case like this. Unable to hide his flustered expression, Yi-seol swallowed dryly. Behind him, Lady Ju and the court ladies stood in formation. Facing the massive door that felt imposing just by standing before it, he swallowed again. He knew his attendants would follow, but he also knew he would face the Emperor entirely alone. He had to steel his heart.

Beyond this door was the Emperor.

****

Ju-an’s summer was famous for its long days and beautifully scattering sunlight. Except for the Ujang Festival, when the sky water spirit descended with rain to spend summer in Ju-an, the weather almost never clouded over. Geum, protected by the sun god—especially its capital, Ju-an—saw rain mostly only at night when the sun took a brief rest.

For the past few days, the sunlight had been especially dazzling. The people of Geum, who believed that the stronger and brighter the sun’s rays, the greater the prosperity of their kingdom, were all smiles. Everyone was looking forward to the news that the Emperor’s new consort would finally enter the palace today. They said he was a prince of Yeon, the one whose name was etched in gold thread—the jinggeumsu—upon the current Emperor, who was believed to be the incarnation of the sun. There was not a single subject who was not interested.

Whenever the commoners gathered in the marketplace, the talk was about the Emperor’s new consort, and the palace was no different. Officials and courtiers alike shared what they had seen and heard, spinning tales.

According to the schedule, the wedding ceremony was to be held at Yeongchae Hall, but the ministers had received word that it was canceled. Not long after they gathered in the main hall, the Emperor appeared. He was dressed no differently than usual—not even in wedding robes. His black hair was half-tied with gold silk, and he wore a golden dragon robe embroidered with red thread. The Emperor was a man who captured everyone’s attention wherever he was; it was partly due to his captivating looks, but he also possessed a heavy presence that inspired awe.

Sitting on his throne, the Emperor surveyed the main hall with an expressionless face and said nothing. His shadow-like aide, High Minister Bi Seung-sang, occasionally whispered to him, but the Emperor did not reply. The situation clearly seemed unpleasant. None of the ministers dared to offer congratulations on the new consort.

Not long after the Emperor took his seat, one of his close eunuchs whispered in Bi Seung-sang’s ear and disappeared. Bi Seung-sang relayed the message to the Emperor, who raised his hand and lowered it—a gesture of permission.

“His Majesty bids you enter.”

“Open the doors.”

The Emperor’s gesture passed through the eunuch to the soldiers guarding the entrance, who threw them open. The heavy doors of the main hall swung wide, and the midday sunlight poured in. And then, the Emperor’s new consort, the Fourth Prince of Yeon, appeared inside the hall, bathed in the sun’s halo.

Many ministers who had heard that the one bearing the Emperor’s jinggeumsu was a man could not hide their surprise. Throughout Geum’s long history, there had been many precedents of kings and emperors taking male consorts, but there had never been a single case where the jinggeumsu name-mark was involved. In this case, only the Emperor had the name engraved, but it was equally unprecedented.

Moreover, what was even more surprising was that the man was a Prince of Yeon.

Due to its geography, Yeon was a country with which it was very difficult to interact, especially for Geum. The distance was great, and the border was steep and rugged. Apart from abundant gold and silver deposits and the fact that it consisted mostly of villages scattered in mountainous forests, people rarely went there deliberately. Nevertheless, the royal family of Yeon had long been a subject of rumor.

People believed that the Yeon royal family possessed bewitching charms that had captivated people for generations.

This belief originated hundreds of years ago when a great general, enchanted by a Yeon princess, plotted treason, seized the throne, and took her as his consort by force. Forced to leave her homeland, the princess fell ill and died soon after becoming queen. The king, driven mad by grief, stained the palace with blood and eventually took his own life. The country, its royal line severed, soon fell.

There were countless such precedents afterward. There were cases where people enchanted by Yeon royalty made vows of eternal love and lived happily ever after, but most endings were tragic. And it was not limited to princesses. There was a record of a king who led an army, intent on taking a prince who was still far from coming of age as his consort.

Later, that king wrote that the young prince standing in the moonlight shone brilliantly; he lived out his life with the Yeon prince as his consort, achieving a rare hundred years of harmony.

Perhaps because of this, the Yeon royal family had eventually begun to avoid treaties or trade with other countries, gradually closing their borders. Thus, for over a hundred years, they lived as if they did not exist on the continent, hidden in the harsh mountain terrain. It was only when people stopped paying attention to them that this incident occurred. With such legends passed down over centuries, everyone’s focus was now on the Yeon prince’s appearance.

As the doors opened and the Prince of Yeon entered with the sunlight, all eyes turned to him.