3. Tears Are a Weapon
There was scarcely an empty seat at the next day's court assembly. With even the Grand Chancellor — who until yesterday had been pleading illness to keep his face out of sight — in attendance, anyone with so much as a sniffle must have dragged himself out of bed to come.
Jang Mun-hyeok stood at the very front. Once he had offered his obeisance when I entered, he kept his mouth shut as quietly as any other minister. He showed no sign of having spent half the night poring over reports at my side. His old bones had to be aching, yet not a trace of fatigue showed on him — a remarkable man, truly.
"To say it once more — the edict I intended to issue yesterday will not be proclaimed."
Heads rose here and there, though the news had surely reached them already.
"Nor will there be any confiscation of arms. For the time being, I intend to remain on amicable terms with the murim."
A minister standing toward the back let his shoulders sag. The one beside him released the hands he'd been wringing inside his sleeve, then clasped them anew. Watching them, I went on.
"I have observed mourning for the Late Emperor and succeeded to the great line, yes — but I have yet to hold the enthronement ceremony and receive the congratulations of all under heaven. I can hardly let it be whispered that the new Emperor raised an army the moment he sat down on the throne."
"Your judgment is most sound, Your Majesty."
The reply came as though it had been waiting for its cue.
"Send invitations to the Murim Alliance as well. Summon the heads of every sect and noble clan, and let them share in the celebration."
This time a low murmur rippled through the hall. The Minister of War bent at the waist, his face noticeably brighter.
"With Your Majesty bestowing grace first, the Jianghu will surely be moved to profound gratitude."
I rather doubted they'd be moved to anything of the sort. They'd be counting themselves lucky — so the madman has sheathed his blade, at least for now. Even that much was enough, though.
"Have the Ministry of Rites draw up the list of forces to be invited. Do not simply send word to the Murim Alliance and tell them to haul people over as they please — each and every one is to receive his own invitation."
"We shall carry out your command."
The Minister of Rites stepped forward and answered. Only then did the air in the hall begin to thaw. The Minister of Revenue exchanged a glance with the minister beside him and pressed his lips together to smother a smile; he seemed relieved of his worries about feeding an army.
So they all knew. Just how far their Emperor had meant to go.
What face I made whenever Qingcheng's name so much as came up after my wife died. Why, the moment I ascended the throne, I had ordered an inquiry into every sect's military strength. No one climbed this high without knowing such things. That was why yesterday they had pressed their foreheads to the floor to talk me out of it.
I rested my hands on the armrests of the throne.
"Present the next matter."
The Minister of Rites did not withdraw. Re-gripping the ivory tablet he had carried into court, he cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty. Before the protocols of the enthronement are settled, there is a matter this servant must raise."
"Speak."
"The seat of the Empress must be filled."
The hall went silent. I looked at the Minister of Rites, and he did not flinch from my gaze.
"The seat of the nation's mother cannot stand empty forever. It is only fitting that Your Majesty take an Empress to govern the inner court and secure the succession of the imperial line."
Behind him, someone sucked in a sharp breath. Jang Mun-hyeok turned his head and fixed the Minister of Rites with a glare he made no effort whatsoever to disguise — a look one could never have imagined on the face that had shared tea and quiet laughter with me only yesterday. The Minister of Rites must have caught it too, for the corners of his mouth went rigid. Still, he did not take the words back.
"I beg Your Majesty to command the selection be held."
Something rose up in my chest. The talk of enthronement I'd been listening to a moment ago receded, and instead I saw a hand resting on the edge of a bed. Yuran's hand had been so small, even the last time I held it — when I wrapped mine around it, only the fingertips would poke out the far side. Merely thinking the words new Empress felt like packing away her things: like pulling a dress that still carried her scent from the chest and filling the empty space with a stranger's clothes.
I closed my mouth and breathed in. By slow degrees, the Minister of Rites's face went pale. He hadn't raised the matter to insult the dead Yuran, I reminded myself. He had only reported what his office demanded of him. Whether it truly had to be done here and now was another question entirely.
I took a long while steadying my breath, and at last I nodded.
"...You speak truly."
The Minister of Rites lifted his eyes. Jang Mun-hyeok looked at me again as well.
"I can hardly leave the Empress's seat vacant forever."
"Your Majesty's profound wisdom..."
"And you are right that an heir must be secured."
The words were barely out of my mouth when the back of my throat began to burn. I swallowed once.
I hadn't married in my previous life, either. Every election season I'd been sick to death of hearing that a family made a man look settled, but I'd never had the luxury of letting anyone into my home. Here, the arithmetic was different. An Emperor's marriage could rearrange the seats of the court and bend the fate of the state itself. The thought had been with me even as I read last night's reports. I'd assumed I would need a little more time to raise it myself — but the Minister of Rites had just opened the door for me.
"Your Majesty."
The Minister of Personnel stepped forth.
"If a selection is to be held, the renown of the family must be weighed as well. Only a house that has rendered loyal service to the throne across generations will be versed in the imperial statutes..."
I recalled that his second daughter remained unmarried. I had even seen her at a palace banquet, back in my days as Crown Prince. Before he could finish, another minister cut in.
"Renown matters, of course, but surely a lady's character must be examined first. In this servant's household, the daughters are made to study the Lessons for Women and the Inner Instructions from their earliest years — so I see no reason to search only among houses of high office."
That house, as it happened, had a niece of marriageable age. I let the two of them talk for a while. Neither came out and said take my daughter, but every time they enumerated the virtues an Empress must possess, the strengths of their own family somehow came trailing after, right on cue. Jang Mun-hyeok stood staring at the floor, clutching his tablet. I couldn't tell whether he was strangling a laugh or simply had no interest in joining in.
"The candidates will be sought among the Five Great Clans of the murim."
The Minister of Personnel's voice died mid-sentence. The Minister of Rites's head snapped up.
"Your Majesty — by the Five Great Clans, you cannot mean..."
"The very Five Great Clans you are thinking of."
"That cannot be."
This from the minister who, moments ago, had been holding forth on a lady's character. Perhaps realizing he had been the first to raise his voice, he hurriedly bent at the waist.
"The selection of an Empress is a matter of grave import to the state. If the pool is confined to the Jianghu clans, worthy ladies may stand overlooked."
"Could the daughter of a martial house ever bear the ceremonial rigors of the palace?"
"And should such a family become imperial in-laws, there is every fear the court will be dragged into murim affairs—"
So many anxieties, all over the matter of bringing in one Empress. The reasons each man gave were different, but on the point that their own share of the prize had just evaporated, they appeared to be in perfect agreement. I waited for them to talk themselves out, and when silence finally returned, I bowed my head a little.
It was not difficult to summon Yuran to mind. I had been holding her back for some time now, after all. Even after her funeral rites, I had forbidden anyone to remove her pillow. On the days when I reached out in my sleep and my hand found only emptiness, I had unleashed my temper on the palace maids. The fewer of her things remained, the more undeniable her death became.
My eyes burned hot. This time I did not fight it. A tear dropped onto the back of my hand. The minister standing nearest me gasped aloud.
"Do I seem to have forgotten Yuran?"
No one answered. I looked at them through wet eyes.
"So now that I've agreed to take a new Empress, I appear to be finally at peace — is that it?"
"Your Majesty, that was never our meaning—"
"Did you not say, just now, that a Mother of the Nation must be installed?"
The Minister of Rites dropped to his knees where he stood with a thud. Without so much as glancing at him, I continued.
"If I marry, even the murim will find it difficult to doubt the throne's intentions. Once they relax their guard, the court will have fewer occasions to fret over armies as well. And so it is that I shall take a new Empress."
As I spoke, the anger turned real. Merely saying the words — seating another person in my wife's place — and already my breath was this thin. And these men had opened their mouths first, all because they feared their own houses might lose their claim to that seat. I leaned my full weight on the feeling and raised my voice.
"This is a decision reached with the ancestral shrines and the altars of state in mind. Did none of you even attempt to fathom with what heart I opened my mouth?"
"This servant's thinking was shallow!"
The Minister of Personnel flung himself to the floor. The minister who had declared martial daughters unfit came down on his knees beside him a heartbeat later. I pressed my sleeve to my eyes.
You must not run them into the ground for too long. What they wanted, more than another chance to oppose my command, was a chance to swallow what they had just said without losing face. To seize a man by the collar and beat him senseless the moment an opening appears — that is the way of a brawler, not a statesman. A statesman corners his opponent when the moment comes, and then knows to open him a hole to flee through — in precisely the direction he desires.
"I know you spoke out of concern for my person."
"Your grace is boundless..."
"So leave this matter to be done as I intend."
No further objection came. It worked better than the tricks I'd used in committee rooms in my past life. There, you could weep your heart out and someone would still shove a phone camera in your face; here, a mere meeting of the eyes sent every head bowing to the floor. My chest still hurt, all the same. I rubbed beneath my eyes with a bony finger. I was sorry — truly — to have made use of Yuran's death in this way. That did not mean I intended to hand back anything I had just gained.
"Rise."
The ministers shuffled back to their feet. The Minister of Rites never did manage to lift his head. I lowered my voice.
"Send a letter to the Murim Alliance. The throne intends to take its Empress from among the daughters of the Five Great Clans; therefore any house possessing an unmarried daughter of proper age is to declare its intention, and submit its lineage and the lady's conduct in writing."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Have the Alliance Leader convey the command to each of the clans."
The Minister of Rites moved his lips like a man committing the words to memory. When I was satisfied he had taken it in, I added:
"Send a separate letter to the Sichuan Dang Clan."
Jang Mun-hyeok's gaze lifted.
"The daughters of the Dang Clan are to be considered as candidates as well, so have the clan head send his reply under his own hand."
The Minister of Rites hesitated. Perhaps because of the thrashing he had just absorbed, this time he was wary even of asking a question.
"Your Majesty. The Dang Clan is counted among the Five Great Clans, and will receive word through the Murim Alliance. If a separate letter is dispatched as well—"
"It is not to be dispatched together."
I rested my fingers on the armrest.
"Send the one to the Murim Alliance first. Allow time for it to arrive and for the news to spread from clan to clan — only then let the letter to the Dang Clan set out."
A crease folded itself into the Minister of Rites's brow.
"You wish the Dang Clan told... later?"
"Precisely. Do not simply let it arrive late because the road is long — delay its departure. Confirm the delivery dates at each relay station as it proceeds, and you will have it exactly."
"...I shall carry out your command."
Jang Mun-hyeok stroked his beard. Even with his hand shielding his face, I could see the smile. Pretending not to notice, I turned to the Minister of Rites.
"Have you grasped what the letters are to say?"
"To the Murim Alliance — that the throne intends a marriage with the Five Great Clans; and afterward, by separate command — that the head of the Sichuan Dang Clan is to reply in person."
"Do it exactly so."
There was only one Empress's seat. And only one man alive who could become the Emperor's father-in-law. By the time they all came trudging into the Imperial Palace with their invitations in hand, they would have accumulated quite a lot they wanted to say to one another. And if, out of all of them, only the Sichuan Dang Clan had received word separately — every eye in the hall would turn to the Dang Clan.
My apologies, but you are all going to serve as the Emperor's chess pieces.
Jang Mun-hyeok raised his head. This time he made no effort at all to hide the smile. He looked happier than he had yesterday, kneeling before me. I wiped the last dampness from my eyes and gave him a smile in return. The Minister of Rites glanced back and forth between the two of us, then dropped his gaze to his tablet, as though suspecting he had missed something crucial.
"Ah — one more thing. I intend to posthumously elevate Yuran to Empress. See to the formalities as you see fit."
"As Your Majesty has decreed, so shall it be done."
Only then did the Minister of Rites bow his head, looking — for the first time all morning — like a man who had finally been handed something he was allowed to do.