A Reunion with an Old Friend
Sofiya. The name had been so long unheard that for a moment I almost mistook the message for spam.
A Russian girl who had come as an exchange student during my high-school days ten years ago. After she suddenly returned to Russia, we had both grown busy with our own lives, and contact had simply faded away…
Surprisingly, the email was written in Korean.
Did she run it through a translator? Or does she still remember the language?
The contents themselves were ordinary enough. An awkward greeting after so long, followed by the news that she would be visiting Korea the following week and a casual question about whether we might see each other.
Does she not even know I’ve become emperor?
It felt a little self-important to think so, yet in this world the Korean Empire was practically the Great Britain of the East. It was hard to believe she could be unaware of my accession.
Perhaps she simply meant she wanted to see me as an ordinary person.
So I replied in kind—as the person I had been before the throne. After a few incognito outings I had grown rather used to that feeling.
While the Emperor lingered over old memories, Kim Insu—no longer merely a palace attendant but Director of Jeguk Ikmunsa—was already carrying out His Majesty’s orders.
“So… someone from the Jangdong Kim clan. It’s been a while since I’ve had reason to visit Seochon.”
Seochon. The principal residential quarter of the Gyeonghwa Sajok, lying immediately beside Gyeongbokgung. Younger scions of the capital nobility preferred the high-rises of new districts like Gangnam, claiming Seochon was too crowded, but those of family-head rank still kept tradition and remained close to the palace.
“Director, are we really going in there?”
The new agent asked in a trembling voice.
“Ah. You’re new, so this will be your first time. Get used to it. If you look cowed walking into a Gyeonghwa Sajok mansion, Jeguk Ikmunsa’s dignity suffers.”
“B-but this isn’t just any Andong Kim—it’s Jangdong. Is it all right to show up unannounced like this?”
“Hah… Even if Jeguk Ikmunsa had its arms and legs cut off by the National Intelligence Service, once you’re an agent you shouldn’t be trembling before mere Gyeonghwa Sajok. The thing the capital nobility fears third-most is us. The NIS ranks below that.”
“Then what’s first and second…?”
“First is the National Tax Service. Second is the Imperial Household Department.”
“Ah. I see. Haha…”
That wasn’t a joke. This one’s useless.
I had let the agency slide while focusing on palace duties, and now the ranks were full of idlers. This one was going to Danamo next quarter.
Thinking as much, Kim Insu approached the mansion. A man in a black suit barred the way.
“This is the private residence of the Jangdong Kim clan. If it is not too great an imposition, might I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?”
“Nothing special. Just tell them a ‘correspondent’ has arrived.”
“A correspondent…? Are you a foreign station officer?”
“If you say ‘correspondent,’ they will understand. An appointment has already been arranged.”
“…Yes. Understood.”
Moments later the man in the suit reappeared and opened the gate.
The mansion in Seochon was not especially large for the foremost house of the realm. With Gyeongbokgung right next door, no building taller than three stories could be raised, nor could any estate dare approach the palace in scale. That was only natural.
Instead, the mansions of the Gyeonghwa Sajok had evolved labyrinthine paths, varied gardens, and carefully framed views of Inwangsan from every angle.
Kim Insu and his agent, however, had no occasion to admire the gardens. They took the straight corridor reserved for insiders and went directly to the family head.
“It has been a long time, Family Head.”
“Hah… When they said a correspondent had come, I first thought it some outdated joke. To think it really was Director Kim.”
Correspondent. The old title Jeguk Ikmunsa agents had once used for themselves—a word any core member of the capital nobility was expected to know.
“What brings you here? I had prepared my granddaughter’s horoscope papers, thinking I would be receiving Chief Eunuch Kim of the Imperial Household. Instead the Director himself appears. Have my children caused some trouble?”
“Nothing major. His Majesty recently mentioned a certain piece of writing, did he not?”
“Ah… that so-called web novel.”
“It seems pressure was applied to revise the work because it contained passages critical of the Jangdong Kim clan.”
“Mm? Did I hear that correctly? One of my own sons grew so enraged over a mere novel that he demanded the text be changed… is that what you are saying?”
“Yes.”
“Good heavens… I shall certainly discipline him. I can scarcely lift my face for the shame.”
“Then I shall leave the matter in your hands.”
“Leaving already?”
“Since the Family Head has said he will handle it, I simply trust that he will. Is there any reason to linger?”
“…You still have no thought of returning?”
“I decided the day I entered Jeguk Ikmunsa that I would never return for the rest of my life.”
“Huu… Very well. Good work.”
Director Kim bowed once and departed.
The very next morning, Kim Yangjong—proud thirty-first-generation descendant of the Jangdong Kim clan of the Gyeonghwa Sajok—came racing to Seochon at his grandfather’s summons.
“Grandfather, for what reason… have you called me?”
“Yangjong… what in the world have you been doing to bring such disgrace upon this old man?”
“Pardon?”
“Last night someone from Jeguk Ikmunsa came. They said you applied pressure to have that novel—or whatever it is—rewritten.”
“Ah… ah… yes.”
“Huu… What on earth was in that novel that drove you to it?”
“That shameless writer portrayed our Jangdong Kim clan as the most vicious, power-hungry ministers imaginable! He erased our family’s pride, Aojigong, as if the man never existed, and constantly belittled the Jangdong Kim as a mere ‘sedoga’! Your grandson simply could not contain his rage—”
Slap!
“Ack!”
“How many times have I told you? Invest, but never meddle in management—that is the virtue of the Gyeonghwa Sajok.
Yet I specially left you alone when you claimed to be going into the writing business, because that at least still belongs to the literary path. And what do you do with that freedom? You try to muzzle another man’s mouth! And of a work His Majesty himself had taken an interest in!”
“Th-that is…”
“Before the other Gyeonghwa Sajok hear of this, dump every share you hold and go to Song for a while.”
“Pardon?”
Slap!
“Ack!”
“Spend a few years in Hong Kong. If I hear of any further mischief from there, you already know what will happen next, don’t you?
I shall tell those around me some suitable lie about why you left. Better that than having people say you angered His Majesty, don’t you think?”
“Yes. I understand, Grandfather. I will liquidate the shares at once, pack my bags, and leave…”
“Good. This time I will trust you.”
After the worthless grandson had gone, the family head took a sip of his long-cold tea.
After this, I can hardly ask the Imperial Clan Department to recommend our house.
The fool of a grandson had ruined everything. Had an empress been raised from the Jangdong Kim, they might have regained even a quarter of the influence they had enjoyed in Aojigong’s day.
Tsk. None of this would have been a worry if only that boy Insu would come back to the family.
“A pity. A true pity.”
“The matter Your Majesty commanded has been settled.”
“Huh? Already? You’ve worked hard.”
Sure enough, not long afterward a text arrived on my phone from the production director saying the problem had been resolved.
“It is nothing, sire. Merely what ought to be done.”
“Ah, right. I think I’ll need to make another incognito outing soon…”
“May I inquire as to the reason?”
“I’m meeting a friend I haven’t seen in ages. Nearly ten years. She suggested we grab a meal.”
“A friend… Understood.”
“She’s a foreigner, so even if she commits some breach of etiquette, let it pass. No—whatever she does, as long as it isn’t an actual threat to me, just leave her be.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At first I considered going all the way to the airport to meet her, but that would have been far too obvious. We settled on a quiet café instead.
Sofiya already knew where I was, so she made no fuss about feeling slighted.
“Ah. Found you. It’s been ages.”
“Uh… Sofiya?”
“Even after this long, that reaction is a little shocking. Did you forget me?”
“No, it’s not that. You’ve changed a lot.”
I hadn’t recognized her at first. Ten years is a long time; it would have been stranger if I had known her on sight.
“Yet you knew me right away.”
“Haha. Well, you’re the most famous person in this country. It would be stranger if I didn’t recognize you.”
“True enough.”
And so we began catching up, starting with old stories. Comparing literature from our respective countries in the high-school literary club, snacking together after class, the usual nonsense—before long the conversation drifted to more recent years.
“So, how does it feel to be ‘Your Majesty’?”
“Still feels like I’m sitting in a chair that doesn’t fit.”
“Heh. For someone who claims that, you’ve certainly stirred up quite a few things. Even back home people talk about the Korean Emperor all the time—liberal this, emperor of the people that…”
“It just sort of happened. None of that was particularly hard. The real difficulties are different.”
“Like what?”
“Being the face of the imperial house and constantly getting asked when I’m going to marry—while I’m still in my twenties.”
“Ooh… planning to enjoy life a little longer? Turned into a playboy while I was gone, have we?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant…”
I could feel my face heating up.
“Haha. I know. That’s not your personality. Still—so you really haven’t married yet?”
“I haven’t given it much thought. It’s not as if I had anyone special.”
“Is that so…?”
The talk continued. Sofiya told me she had returned to Russia, graduated from the Saint Petersburg Conservatory, and was now active as a musician.
“So you came this time for a performance?”
“Not only for that, no.”
Time slipped away, and the moment to part approached. I had a banquet to prepare for; she had a concert.
“Let’s see each other now and then while you’re in Korea.”
“I’d like that, but will you really be free?”
“Well… if it gets impossible, I can always summon you to the palace on the pretext of listening to music.”
“Good heavens, how could I possibly sit still under such an overwhelming honor?”
With that, Sofiya left the café.
The reunion with an old friend had been pleasant.
That is, until the next morning, when Chief Eunuch Kim held up the front page of the newspaper and demanded,
“Your Majesty! Is this true?!”