The Road of Return
"There was nothing I could have done just now. Do not blame yourself so."
"No, my lord. Your words were entirely right."
Hyo-bin answered, "Had you said otherwise—forgive your humble servant for speaking frankly—but I should have been disappointed in you. If a sovereign will not stand up and defend the loyal ministers who rose boldly for his sake, then how can he be called a sovereign at all? For a mere eunuch to defame the King and scorn the fidelity of the scholar-gentry—the only regret is that his crime cannot be punished this very moment."
"My Queen."
At her resolute words, Hong-wi looked at her in astonishment.
The woman who had wept and wailed her lamentations in Suganggung was gone without a trace.
After a long while, Hong-wi gave a bitter smile. "What choice is there? The world has been turned on its head—how could I demand proper principle from a mere palace eunuch?"
"Do not despair so, my lord. Have I not told you? Though the world may go astray for a time, it will not remain so forever. Endure it quietly, bear it patiently—surely a good day will come someday."
"A good day... a good day."
Hong-wi echoed the words helplessly. "But tell me—will such a day truly come for me? And if it does, when? My Queen, what is there left to hide at this point? I shall never set foot out of Yeongwol again."
Hong-wi pressed his lips shut.
The next moment, he collapsed all at once.
It was as if a dike that had barely withstood the surging waves for so long had finally crumbled in a single breath.
"What use is royal dignity now? What use is a man's pride? What is there to hide? The only reason I have held out this far is that you—the one person in this world who truly understands me—were at my side."
Tears slid quietly down Hong-wi's cheeks.
Hyo-bin's heart was torn to shreds, and she could not speak.
"Yes. Because you were here, I could endure to this day. My uncle cast aside even the bond of blood and hounded me, his followers threw away every duty of a subject and dared to threaten me, and everyone shunned me as if I were a ghost—yet you alone remained by my side. And yet..."
Hong-wi gazed at her with a look of utter desolation, his eyes brimming with tears. "If now even you are taken from me—what am I to do?"
Never once in his life had he spoken such words.
However exalted a queen might be, her station could not compare to that of the sovereign lord of the realm. It was something a king's dignity could never permit, and until now Hong-wi had crushed the words down and swallowed them.
On this day, the last he would share with Hyo-bin, Hong-wi had broken more thoroughly than ever before. And knowing that, Hyo-bin grieved all the more deeply.
"My lord."
Hyo-bin forced down her tears and spoke. "You are, and have always been, the rightful King of this realm."
Hong-wi did not answer.
"Even when your servant can no longer stand at your side, that will never change. You can endure. Wherever you may be, you are still the lord of this realm—and still my husband."
Hyo-bin took his two hands in hers and drew them to her breast. "You may go, but there will come a day when you return. No—you must return. Even if today you cannot see an inch before your feet, do not give up. Live, and come back to me. Let this road you walk today become the road of return. My lord—you told your servant to live on."
Hyo-bin looked at him with unwavering eyes. "Then make that same promise to me. That you will come back. Until that day comes, I will wait, and wait, and wait again."
Without a word, Hong-wi wrapped her in his arms.
"I will. I swear I will."
And so the two of them held each other tight.
Thus passed their last night together at Hwayangjeong.
The next morning, the escort procession made ready to depart.
Eo Deuk-hae raised his voice and called out. "Your Lordship! The time has come to depart!"
After he had called twice, Hong-wi and Hyo-bin stepped out of the guest house. Without a word, Hyo-bin clutched the hem of Hong-wi's sleeve. He looked down at it—and at last, forgetting all dignity and decorum, he gathered her into his arms.
Across her face, lovely as white jade, a single tear welled up and traced a silent path down her cheek.
"Ah... a-hem!" Eo Deuk-hae clicked his tongue at the sight, while Hong Deuk-gyeong and Kim Ja-haeng exchanged glances and muttered something under their breaths.
But no one said a word. However hard-hearted a man might be, it was no easy thing to sever the tender bond between a husband and wife whose parting this day might well be their last in this life.
Han Ga-ryeong, straw hat drawn low over his eyes, said nothing at all.
"How long do you intend to dawdle, Your Lordship? Everyone is waiting. The road ahead is long."
At last Kim Ja-haeng, unable to bear it, cried out. Startled to his senses, Hong-wi pulled away from Hyo-bin.
"I shall go now, my Queen."
"Travel safely, my lord."
At Hong-wi's words, that was all Hyo-bin could manage to say. She had steeled her heart for this farewell all through the night, but the moment it truly arrived, that firm resolve melted away into nothing.
Hong-wi's throat was choked too, and he hurriedly turned toward the palanquin. He could bear to weep before Hyo-bin—before Eo Deuk-hae's band, never.
"Move off."
Hong-wi spoke with his head bowed deep inside the palanquin. The bearers heaved themselves up. Eo Deuk-hae stepped forward at the sight. "Right, onward, everyone! We must be past the bounds of Yangju before nightfall today!"
"Yes, sir!"
The procession hurried away from Hwayangjeong.
Hyo-bin, left behind, stood her ground unmoving until the column had shrunk into the distance. Her gaze was nailed to the palanquin that carried Hong-wi. When at last it vanished from her sight, she sank slowly to the ground where she stood, and tear after tear fell endlessly onto her skirt and jacket.
After a time she rose again and climbed the wavering steps to the pavilion above. Far off in the distance, Hong-wi and his party were already drawing near the Han River, faint as a mirage.
"My lord..."
For a noblewoman raised behind guarded walls like a treasure beyond price, she had uncommonly rare strength of spirit. But in this one moment, she cast aside even a queen's dignity and decorum and became simply a woman—facing a farewell that held no promise of reunion with the husband she loved, she let loose at last the sobs she had held down until her shoulders shook.
She wept with her whole body. "You must come back. You must come back alive. Not to meet you in the world below—but in this world, in this world I must see you return..."
Because of her prayer that Hong-wi would one day return, this pavilion would later come to be called Hoehaengjeong—the Pavilion of the Return Journey—and there Hyo-bin lingered, unable to leave, for a very long time.
Hong-wi had left Hanyang on the twenty-first day of the sixth month by the lunar calendar, at the very height of the summer heat. He was at least fortunate enough to travel by palanquin, but the sweltering air soon turned the interior into a steaming oven.
Yet with royal dignity to uphold besides, and Eo Deuk-hae's men driving their horses hard all around the palanquin, no one paid the slightest heed to Hong-wi's plight. They seemed intent only on finishing this wretched errand and returning to Hanyang as quickly as possible.
"Someone there..."
At last, tormented beyond endurance by his thirst, Hong-wi forgot all dignity and called out in a thin, wavering voice. "Water... give me water, I beg you..."
But not one of the men riding nearby made any answer. Hong-wi raised his voice a little higher. "Is there... is there any water?"
How many times did he call like that? Only after a long while did someone respond. "Your Lordship has a long way yet to go before Yeongwol."
Hong Deuk-gyeong's voice dripped with unmistakable sarcasm. Hong-wi was dumbfounded. But quenching his thirst came first, so swallowing his pride, he asked again. "My throat is parched. Might I have some water?"
"W-we have strict orders, Your Lordship! Arrive late to the appointed date and the blame falls on our heads!"
At that irritation-laced metallic shriek, Hong-wi was left speechless. How can these men be so vile! He ground his teeth, but there was nothing to be done.
While Hong-wi was biting his lip, the clip-clop of hooves drew near, and something slipped in through the palanquin's lattice. It was a water flask made of bamboo.
"Drink this."
A cold, low voice. And that voice was somehow familiar to his ear.
After a moment, Hong-wi moistened his cracked, dry lips. "Han Ga-ryeong..."
"You remember me, then. Drink quickly."
Hong-wi stared at Han Ga-ryeong in silence. This man is Han Myeong-hoe's creature—why would he look after me? Could there be poison in this water?
When he hesitated to reach for the flask, Han Ga-ryeong gave it a light shake, as if to urge him to drink. And in that next moment, Hong-wi found himself laughing without meaning to.
What a wretched life I lead—what more is there to weigh and calculate! My very existence ends or endures at the whim of that wolfish uncle of mine whenever he pleases, does it not? Whether I die today or tomorrow, what difference does it make!
He took the flask, opened the stopper, and brought it to his lips. The heat of the day had warmed the water inside, but to Hong-wi it tasted sweeter and more fragrant than anything in the world.
"My thanks."
Having drunk his fill, Hong-wi handed the flask back, but Han Ga-ryeong shook his head. "The road is long. Keep it."
And he returned to his former position. Hong-wi stared blankly, first at the man, then at the flask in his hands, and back again.
"Is that... wise?"
Hong Deuk-gyeong whispered to Eo Deuk-hae, who was fanning himself in quick, repeated strokes. He frowned. "What is? I saw nothing and did nothing. Even if water was given, that fellow gave it of his own accord—nothing to do with me."
Hong Deuk-gyeong nodded and went back to his place, and Eo Deuk-hae turned his gaze firmly away. In a corner of his heart, he could not deny a flicker of pity for Prince Nosan, Hong-wi. But he could not bring himself to offer so much as a bowl of water—who knew what calamity such a kindness might invite?
Eo Deuk-hae grumbled on and on. "Ah, what a blazing hot day this is. A-hem!"
Toward evening, the escort procession made camp at a shabby-looking relay station. All the while, not one of Eo Deuk-hae's men spoke a word to Hong-wi—only the briefest exchanges when strictly necessary.
They fear me, I suppose.
Hong-wi gave a bitter smile. To speak precisely, they fear being entangled with me. Well—let them. If anything, this suited Hong-wi perfectly. He had wanted to be alone.
Til well past nightfall, he could not sleep, tossing this way and that. The coarse sleeping mat was uncomfortable, true, but more than that, something in his chest felt stifled and heavy. Turning over yet again, he finally stepped outside the guest house.
Perhaps mercifully, Eo Deuk-hae's men did not stop him even for that—after all, the guards had already drawn their watch lines around the fence.
"Ah..."
Hong-wi looked up at the night sky and gasped without meaning to. The stars were thick and countless. Gazing up at that vast expanse of heaven, his suffocating gloom seemed, if only a little, to loosen its grip.
Then, unbidden, an old memory surfaced.
It was a night from the days when his father, King Munjong the Great, was still Crown Prince, and Hong-wi himself still the royal heir. He had just been about to take his late-evening meal when a message suddenly arrived from the East Palace: his father was summoning him to the rear garden. He hurried to dress himself properly and went—and there his father stood, looking up at the night sky.
When Hong-wi bowed respectfully, his father spoke. "Is the moon not brilliantly bright tonight?"
"Yes, Father. It is."
"They say the sages of old drew from those stars in the night sky the wisdom to foresee what was to come."
"Is that so?"
Young Hong-wi's eyes went wide with curiosity. Then Munjong, with a warm smile, took Hong-wi's hand in one of his own, and with the other pointed out the stars of the night sky one by one, showing him the constellations. "For it is the way of the wise that in reading the heavens, they find wisdom."
Wisdom... Hong-wi murmured the word under his breath. Could this man, here and now, find any wisdom in that night sky above? When I cannot even promise whether I will keep my life through tomorrow.
Sorrow surged up again, and hot tears rose in his eyes. Just then, he heard footsteps behind him. Hong-wi quickly wiped his eyes. Fallen and disgraced though he was, he had no wish for anyone to see him weeping.
"Sleep will not come, it seems."
It was Han Ga-ryeong. Striving to appear composed, Hong-wi lowered his voice. "I was only watching the stars in the night sky."
Han Ga-ryeong gave no answer, only nodded, then stood beside Hong-wi and looked up at the heavens. Nothing could be heard but the shrill din of crickets in the grass.
"I was grateful for what you did this afternoon."
This time too, Han Ga-ryeong only nodded in silence. For a while, a quiet stillness settled between them.
"Where I come from, the stars are just as many as that."
Han Ga-ryeong said it abruptly. Hong-wi stared at him, not understanding. "Where you come from—you mean the land of the wild tribes?"
"It was a truly beautiful place. The people of Joseon call the northern frontier a desolate, worthless land, but the sight of a man lying on the open plain, gazing up at the night sky—that much deserves to be called magnificent."
His eyes held a faint ache, as if he were recalling something long past.
Hong-wi found himself suddenly curious about the man's history. And then—astonishingly—Han Ga-ryeong turned to look at him, and smiled.
Hong-wi doubted his own eyes.
"There was a time, I imagine, when Your Lordship's ancestors dwelt in that land as well."
"So... I have heard."
Hong-wi did not know what to say. Why is this man speaking of such things to me?
Then, Han Ga-ryeong drew something from within his breast. Caught in the faint moonlight, it gleamed so blindingly, snow-white, that it sent a chill down the spine.
Hong-wi's breath caught in his throat.