The Gisaeng’s Way of Making Allies
Just as Han Sujin had anticipated, the morning after he was moved to the Daejojeon—the Queen’s residence—the remonstrances against the King began to erupt.
“Your Majesty. Word has reached us that you have brought a lowly gisaeng into an inappropriate space.”
The opening salvo came from an official of the Saganwon, the department whose very duty was to offer remonstrance to the King. The King, seated upon her dragon throne, narrowed her eyes.
“This palace is my own. What business is it of yours whom I bring into it or where I house them?”
“Not only this palace, but the entire eight provinces of Joseon belong to Your Majesty. Yet, these were not built by you alone; they were inherited from the ancestors, starting with King Taejo. How can you act so willfully, as if they belong to you alone?” The Saganwon official bowed his head even lower. “Your Majesty is of an age where it is only natural for a woman to desire a man. If that is the case, why not welcome a daughter of a noble house to fill the empty position of Queen? I have even heard that the candidates have already been narrowed down to two.”
“That, too, is a matter for me to decide.”
“Your Majesty.” The official took a deep breath. “If I may be so bold, do you intend to make a man of gisaeng origin the father of Joseon?”
“…”
Tap. The King’s fingers tapped irritably against the armrest of the throne. Cold sweat beaded on the official’s forehead. Yet—
“I dare say, he is not a man worthy of the position of Joseon’s consort.”
Officials of the Saganwon are permitted to drink even during working hours. This is because speaking truth to the King is a task so terrifying and agonizing. Conversely, it was their duty to pierce the King’s ears with the truth, even if they had to be drunk to do it. Joseon was that kind of country. It was the nation of Confucius, the Sage of Letters, and Zhu Xi, the Master of Letters.
“…Naturally, I have no intention of making a mere gisaeng my consort.”
“If that is the case, then this humble servant has spoken out of turn.”
The official felt a sense of relief. Regardless of the King’s true intentions, if he had forced her to say those words in a public setting, his objective was already achieved. Before withdrawing, he decided to lighten the mood slightly.
“If Your Majesty truly has a fondness for that man, please welcome him as a concubine after you have taken a Queen. Did not the kings of old take many concubines?”
“…A concubine, you say.”
“No.”
A sharp, ringing voice cut through the atmosphere that had been settling down. “That, too, shall not be permitted.”
The morning audience always required the presence of at least one of the three state councilors—the Chief State Councilor, the Left State Councilor, or the Right State Councilor. Today, the participant was the Left State Councilor. It was Jang I-in, the very person who had cast a look of contempt at Han Sujin the previous day.
“From the very beginning, why would a wise monarch such as yourself bring a ‘heavenly disaster’ into the Daejojeon? There is only one reason: that yoman—that bewitching man—has seduced Your Majesty and clouded your wisdom.”
“What is it you wish to say?”
“I dare suggest that we must hold the man who bewitched our sovereign accountable. According to the law, he must be sentenced to death.”
A murmur rippled through the ministers.
“No, even so…”
“Did Your Majesty not summon him yourself…?”
“Are you saying, then, that it is the King’s will for a mere gisaeng to disturb the palace?”
“…”
The King’s fingers curled into a fist on the armrest. The Saganwon official, who had started the conversation, felt cold sweat running down his back. ‘Left State Councilor…!’ He hadn’t wanted to escalate things to this extent. But if the King were to fly into a rage at the Left State Councilor, the fire would surely spread to him for having opened the door.
“…Han Sujin,” the King finally spoke. “I summoned him because I have a secret use for him. It is not a matter for you to concern yourselves with.”
“Then why house him in the Daejojeon?”
“It is not the main hall, but merely an auxiliary building where I have permitted him to eat and sleep.” The King closed her eyes. “I will fill the position of Queen according to the law, as I see fit. Do not trouble me with this matter any further.”
The Left State Councilor bowed his head. “I shall obey.”
[FALSE] Lies. All lies. But where does the truth end and the lie begin? I do not know. Was he merely trying to shake me? Does he intend to use this as an excuse to be a nuisance every time I try to push through a policy? ‘How stifling.’ My heart burns. I think of that man even more. Last night, the wine he poured with his own hands was truly sweet. I want to see him. I want to touch him. I want to tease him. I want to be teased by him.
“…Let us begin the morning audience. Let the Ministry of Rites report first.”
Once again, the day of the King of Joseon begins.
On the way home that day, an official approached the Left State Councilor.
“Left State Councilor, do you truly believe that man must be executed?”
It was the Vice Minister of Rites. She was the same woman, Jang I-in, whom Han Sujin had entertained at the gisaeng house just a few days prior. The two were not only the same type of ain (half-human), but they were also relatives. Specifically, fifth cousins. Thus, it was possible for her to approach the Left State Councilor with relative ease.
The Left State Councilor checked to ensure no one was listening and replied, “No. Even if he is guilty, it is not a crime grave enough to warrant such a thing.”
“Then…”
“Tsk. You are a Vice Minister, yet you still do not understand politics?”
“I am ashamed.”
“The man the King cherishes has become her weakness. Can you not think of how many ways there are to seize and use this?” The Left State Councilor tapped her own temple. “If the King tries to handle matters in a way we do not like in the future, we can simply claim that it is all because of the yoman who is shaking the King’s wisdom.”
The Left State Councilor moved her feet. “Remember this. The most important thing in politics is knowing what others want. And the most dangerous thing is being caught knowing what you want.”
“What one wants…”
“Yes. In one word: Desire.”
Politics is, in the end, desire. I want this, and you want this too. Then, between you and me, who should have it? If I concede this, what can you do for me? How far can you go? How much is what you are willing to give up worth to you? Why are you willing to give that up just to have this? That is the root of all politics. Politics is like a fabric woven with my desires as the warp and the desires of others as the weft.
“If there were someone who could see everyone’s desires, no one in this palace would be able to defeat her.”
The Vice Minister of Rites said cautiously, “It is fortunate that no such person exists.”
“Indeed. I think so too. If there were, they could hold this palace in the palm of their hand, and that would be the same as holding Joseon itself.”
The Left State Councilor clenched her hand, then let it go limply, as if to say it was nonsense. After that, they exchanged some small talk between cousins, and the Left State Councilor returned to her home in Hanyang.
The servant who took her outer robe had an unusually bright expression.
“Why are you smiling so?”
“A gift has arrived that I am sure you will be pleased with, my lady.”
“Something I would like?”
Once one becomes a person of power, gifts arrive from all directions without even asking. But a gift she would actually like?
“I have placed it in the study.”
When she went inside, a savory, sweet scent was wafting through the air. The smell was coming from a box placed on the desk. Even before she opened the lid, the Left State Councilor’s mouth began to water.
“No… surely not?”
When she opened the lid, it was indeed as she feared. It was Yumilgwa (honey pastry). It was an era when snacks themselves were precious. This was true not only in Joseon but in the Central Plains as well. And this was Yumilgwa, the most expensive of all snacks. Flour, more precious than rice, kneaded with sesame oil and grain syrup, dried, fried in sesame oil, and then soaked in grain syrup again. It was the height of luxury. Just to enjoy a moment of pleasure in one’s mouth. It was no exaggeration to say that its very existence went against the teachings of Confucianism.
That was exactly the problem. A person of her standing, a Left State Councilor, liking such luxurious pastries? It was a flaw that must never be known.
“No, who on earth knew that I liked this…!”
As the Left State Councilor lifted the box with joy, her eyes caught a single character written in the corner: Seo (瑞). The Left State Councilor already knew the name of the gisaeng who was currently causing problems in state affairs.
The tips of Jang I-in’s long ears turned bright red. With fury and shame.
“This… lowly wretch…!!”
How dare he send such a gift to her!? How dare he try to buy the favor of a Joseon councilor with something like this!? That kind of vulgar man!?
“How dare he…!!”
The Left State Councilor lifted the box. She intended to smash it onto the floor of the front courtyard and trample the fallen pastries into the dirt.
“Ugh…!”
She had to smash it, but…! The Left State Councilor’s hands trembled. Yumilgwa. She certainly had the money to buy them herself. But how long would it take for rumors to spread that a servant from the Left State Councilor’s house was frequently buying Yumilgwa? It wouldn’t take long. And it wouldn’t take long for that fact to be used as a weapon by her political rivals. It had been over ten years since she had last tasted Yumilgwa. If she missed this chance, when would she ever be able to eat it again?
‘Me, over mere…! This kind of…! Over mere this kind of…!!!!’
The Left State Councilor’s ears turned red to the very tips.
“Mere, this kind of…!!!”
The savory, sweet scent tickled her nose.