The Palace of Hiding

The one presented to the Emperor was named Yi-seol.

Some sneered, calling it a woman’s name, while others clicked their tongues—how vulgar for the royal family to adopt a surname so common among the common folk of Geum.

Yi-seol stepped onto the path leading to the Emperor.

Eyes trailed him as he cautiously made his way forward, and soon, puzzled expressions were exchanged, followed by hollow laughter.

Of course. The records were just records, and legends were always exaggerated.

Yi-seol was not so ugly that one couldn’t bear to look at him. With the dignity befitting a royal, his footsteps carried grace, and his hands were clasped, his back straight, exuding elegance. His features were not bad either—just not exceptional. By Geum’s aesthetic standards, he could not be called beautiful or stunning. The one thing in his favor was his pale skin. In a land where the sun was harsh and fair skin was rare due to the Golden Tribe’s traits, Yi-seol’s face, neck, and exposed skin gleamed like white porcelain.

Though they hadn’t believed all the tales passed down through records and oral tradition, the ministers, after seeing Yi-seol in person, sighed in disappointment and glanced at their Emperor.

They thought that no one in this land could rival the Emperor in beauty, and then recalled his temperament—one that clashed with that beautiful visage—and clicked their tongues inwardly. They wondered who was more pitiable: the Emperor, forced by the Mandate of Heaven to take a man as a consort, or Yi-seol, destined to marry an Emperor renowned for a temperament as harsh as his looks were fair.

“Halt.”

Unaware of the ministers’ disappointment, Yi-seol silently walked the central path and stopped before the Emperor. He paused to catch his breath, then prostrated himself, forehead touching the floor. Though his wig was smaller and his ornaments fewer than those of previous consorts, his white, slender neck made it seem as if it might snap at any moment.

Then, his voice rang out across the silent hall.

“I am Yi-seol, the Fourth Prince of the Yeon royal family. I humbly greet His Majesty, the Emperor of Geum, the sovereign of heaven and earth and master of this continent. May you enjoy boundless fortune.”

It was a low voice, but loud enough for all in the quiet hall to hear. It betrayed no nervousness.

After his greeting, Yi-seol still kept his head down. The Emperor continued to watch him. Because the throne was slightly elevated, the Emperor seemed to be looking down at Yi-seol, his gaze appearing disdainful, as though regarding something absurd and insignificant—but the expression vanished quickly, replaced by his usual bored look.

“Raise your head.”

Fortunately, the Emperor permitted him to rise before his white, thin neck could break. Yi-seol sat upright, his cheeks tinged with pink, indicating he had indeed been tense.

“You must be weary after such a long journey.”

“…I am unworthy of such concern, Your Majesty.”

Yi-seol smiled faintly and replied to the plainly perfunctory remark. He certainly looked better when smiling than with a blank expression.

Even before seeing Yi-seol’s smile or hearing his reply, the Emperor’s eyes had already moved away. Turning to the ministers, the Emperor announced, “Listen, all.” At that, every minister’s body turned toward the Emperor. Yi-seol straightened his posture and looked up.

“I bestow upon the Prince of Yeon, Yeon Yi-seol, who brought me his name, the rank of Jeong-i-pum So-ui (Second Rank Consort) with the title Ru (to carve). Additionally, I grant him Bi-eun Palace, where the consort shall reside.”

“Your grace is overwhelmingly generous, Your Majesty.”

“You may withdraw.”

“I obey.”

As Yi-seol bowed again and touched his forehead to the floor, the ministers’ expressions shifted from shock to confusion. Their murmuring grew louder, filling the previously quiet hall.

The court had tentatively expected Yi-seol to be granted the rank of Jeong-il-pum Bi (First Rank Consort). Since he was a man who could not continue the bloodline, though a destined fated one, the rank of Empress was out of reach, and Bi was considered the next most appropriate. Historical precedents included a male consort who had risen to the rank of Sook-bi, so no one had objected. Indeed, there were considerable factions advocating for Yi-seol as Empress.

Moreover, the palace he received was Bi-eun Palace. It was built about two hundred years ago when the capital was moved to Ju-an and the imperial palace constructed, and it had never been renovated. At the time, it might have been beautiful—with lush greenery within its walls and a rear garden—but after centuries of neglect, it looked like an abandoned ruin. Worse, it was close to the Emperor’s own Taegeum Palace; though palace maids cleaned it regularly, a musty, oppressive atmosphere lingered.

This was the palace Yi-seol received. It wasn’t as if the palace had no other vacant residences suitable for a consort—there were plenty. He wouldn’t have been so shocked if he’d been given any of those. But to grant not only such a low rank but also Bi-eun Palace—the Emperor’s intention was all too clear. Everyone was left speechless.

Bi-eun Palace used the characters for ‘queen’ (bi) and ‘to hide’ (eun). It was literally a palace to hide a queen.

Yi-seol’s close attendants knew this well; their bowed heads drooped lower in despair. Having their lord so openly scorned by the Emperor must have darkened their prospects. Every palace servant knew that their future depended on a kind master.

Yi-seol still lay prostrate in the middle of the hall. After a moment, two maids approached, lifted him by the arms, and helped him stand. He clearly didn’t realize the depth of the insult. His neat, white face flushed even more than before, and his gaze was fixed on the distant Emperor. The Emperor, apparently having lost all interest in Yi-seol, was now speaking with the Chancellor standing beside him.

Yi-seol left the hall supported by the maids. His steps remained light and dignified, as if he were floating. Everyone watched him, clicking their tongues or sneering. There was no politeness for a consort who had lost the Emperor’s favor. Among the muttered curses, a voice rang out clearly, loud enough for anyone near the door to hear.

“He gave the Emperor the Jinggeumsu and received only the rank of So-ui and Bi-eun Palace. How fitting for his lot.”

Everyone mocked Yi-seol, but it didn’t seem to reach him. This time, however, it was different. Yi-seol, who had been walking as smoothly as flowing water, faltered and stopped. He didn’t turn his head to find the source, but the nearby officials were sure he had heard. Perhaps that’s why his previously pure white skin seemed to pale even more. After standing still for a moment, as if snapped back by his attending maid’s call, he resumed his steps as if nothing had happened and left the hall.

Once Yi-seol was out, the soldier guarding the door closed it. The bright sunlight dimmed slightly. After Yi-seol’s departure, the ministers turned back to face the Emperor. The Emperor, who hadn’t spared Yi-seol a single glance as he left, was now staring intently at the closed door, having sent the Chancellor far away.

****

Summer was long, and so were the days in Ju-an. Night fell abruptly. He had just thought the sun was about to set, and when he looked out again, the sky was already pitch black, with only a lonely moon hanging. With the sun gone, a cool breeze swept through the branches outside the residence. A rustling sound, like the one he used to hear in his old residence in Yeon, soothed his heart.

Yi-seol sat on a chair, staring blankly out the large window that faced the rear garden. His back, which had been straight all day, his shoulders weighed down by tension, and his head heavy with his wig and ornaments—every part of his body ached. Ki-yeon had asked if he could massage his shoulders as usual, but Lady Ju by his side refused, saying that allowing physical contact with a strange man was forbidden. When Yi-seol asked if it wasn’t better to allow it since he himself was a man, rather than asking a woman, Lady Ju firmly shook her head. Regardless, any physical contact with a consort before the consummation was prohibited.

“Your Highness, shall I bring another cup of tea?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call if I need anything. You don’t need to mind me.”

“Your Highness, please lower your speech. I’m nothing but a palace maid.”

“I’m just not used to it yet…”

Having been born a royal, he was not unfamiliar with giving orders. What he wasn’t used to were the palace maids of Geum—calling him ‘Your Highness’ and treating him like a woman.

He managed to send away the maid who insisted on attending him and was alone again. Being alone was better for thinking things over. Moreover, the palace was short of hands for cleaning, and anyone extra ought to help. In his heart, Yi-seol wanted to roll up his sleeves and go out to sweep. The Bi-eun Palace, which was now his residence, had been so desolate upon arrival that he was left speechless.

Was it because of the rank of So-ui? Or because of Bi-eun Palace? Perhaps it was both. He remembered the turmoil in the hall as soon as the imperial decree fell. He realized upon arriving at Bi-eun Palace: at least the palace itself was certainly the problem.

When he descended from the palanquin, the first thing that caught his eye was the palace’s plaque. He had thought it couldn’t be, but the characters were indeed ‘Bi’ for queen and ‘Eun’ for hide. He wondered for a moment why the palace had been named so, but before long, the sight of the palace robbed him of words.

No other palace or building in the imperial court had such overgrown greenery and lush foliage. A tall tree behind the gate stretched long branches down to cover the plaque, and tangled vines grew haphazardly along the walls. Beyond the fence, large and small trees clustered thickly, as if they had never been pruned—they simply reached skyward, giving no impression of being planted for aesthetics.

The maids were not as surprised as Yi-seol, as if they had expected it, but their faces were far from bright. When he entered, one maid even let out a loud sigh, earning a stern scolding from Lady Ju. In truth, Yi-seol felt the same. As predicted from outside, the unkempt trees and weeds on the ground added to the palace’s gloom. Dried leaves blanketed the large pond, obscuring the water’s condition.

The inside was no different—worse, if anything. At least outside showed signs of minimal upkeep, but inside, dust lay thick, as if no foot had trod for ages. The bedchamber, devoid of any furniture, had only a bedroll brought by a maid who had arrived with the baggage.

“Your Highness, it is almost the second watch.”

Lady Ju’s voice came from outside the door. It was a signal that the Emperor would soon visit.