The Child Maid's Duty
Pat, pat.
I waited quietly for the Crown Prince's turbulent emotions to subside.
I waited, and waited, and waited some more...
...My arm is going to fall off.
Perhaps it was from scurrying around running errands all day, but my legs felt on the verge of cramping, too.
"Oof, my aching bones..."
At the groan that slipped past my lips, the Crown Prince turned his head.
"Oh dear. Does your arm hurt because of me?"
"...My legs are all wobbly, too."
A clear, gentle laugh spilled from his lips. The melancholy that had clung to him moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by a radiant smile.
Well, seeing that made all the aching muscles worthwhile.
"Bong-bong-ah."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
Watching me rhythmically thump my weary little arms and legs, the Crown Prince asked out of the blue,
"Would you like me to give you a piggyback ride?"
Pardon? Me?
For a moment, my brain failed to process the request, and I could only blink blankly at him.
"You went to such lengths to care for me," he said warmly. "Now, I wish to offer you some comfort in return."
"Ah... yeees."
I shifted my eyes awkwardly, turning the dilemma over in my head. Any normal toddler would have jumped at the chance with squeals of delight, but with the soul of a full-grown adult stuffed into this pint-sized body, it felt terribly awkward...
"Come now. Hop on. I have always wished for a little sister I could carry on my back. Thanks to you, my wish is finally granted."
When the Crown Prince of the realm went so far as to say that, refusing him was out of the question. Reluctantly, I leaned against his offered back and looped my small arms around his neck.
"Rest comfortably. Settle in."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Realizing I was holding myself as rigid as a wooden board, I gingerly let my weight rest against him.
He's nothing like the frail, sickly figure in the history books. His back feels broad, just like an adult's.
Then again, it might simply be that I was ridiculously small.
"Bong-bong-ah."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"You will soon be returning home for the holiday, so you must be glad."
"No. I am not going home."
"It is a festival day—why ever not?"
"Because I am an orphan."
The Crown Prince's back stiffened instantly. A dry, audible gulp caught in his throat.
"...I spoke thoughtlessly. Forgive me, Bong-bong-ah."
"I am quite alright, Your Highness."
I truly did not mind in the slightest, yet the poor boy was visibly beside himself with guilt and distress.
...He really is such a kind, gentle soul.
A heavy ache settled in my chest as I recalled the countless bitter trials that awaited him in the future.
Still, being carried like this is far cozier than I expected.
His broad back radiated a steady, comforting warmth.
My eyelids fluttered once, twice.
And slowly, gently... I drifted into a deep sleep.
Stepping into the inner courtyard of Jeoseungjeon, the young attendant Eunuch Moon Yu-do froze in his tracks.
"Good heavens, Your Highness! That child is from Chwiseondang—"
"Shh."
The Crown Prince pressed a slender finger to his lips.
Eunuch Mun looked on with wide, bewildered eyes as the little girl softly snored against the Prince's back.
"Court Lady Han was looking for you," the Crown Prince said in a hushed tone.
"Is that so, Your Highness? In that case, since I must visit Chwiseondang anyway, allow me to carry the child back."
By now, the blue shadows of dusk had fallen across the palace grounds. The Crown Prince nodded quietly.
"Take care not to wake her."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Eunuch Mun gently and painstakingly took the child into his arms.
"Ah, wait a moment."
The Crown Prince called him back in a low, measured voice.
"Eunuch Mun. Could you discreetly look into Bong-bong's background for me?"
"Into this child's background, Your Highness?"
"She mentioned she is an orphan. It made me wonder how she has lived until now."
Eunuch Mun stole a cautious glance at the young master's face. The Crown Prince's solemn, thoughtful gaze remained fixed on the peacefully sleeping toddler.
The Crown Prince was a person who weighed every single action a hundred times before making a move. For him to order an inquiry into the origins of a mere child court maid was astonishing.
"Ah... yes, Your Highness. I shall carry out your command."
As the quiet exchange drew to a close—
"Hnngh..."
The child let out a tiny murmur, squirming lightly against his chest. Throughout the entire journey back to Chwiseondang, Bong-bong did not wake once.
"Yaaawn..."
The moment I stretched lazily and cracked my eyes open—
"Sweet mother of—! Hamanim!"
Seol-hyang's face was hovering absurdly close, staring right down at me.
"What are you jumping out of your skin for? Did you commit a crime or something?"
"A crime? Me? No way, why would I...?"
I shrank back involuntarily. Did I mumble something weird in my sleep? Did I leak state secrets in a dream?
'Jang Hui-bin drinks the poison bowl, and the court maids lose their heads!'
Just imagining myself blabbering those words made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"B-but... why are you staring at me like that, Hamanim?"
"I heard you fell asleep in Jeoseungjeon. Is that true?"
"I did? Ah..."
The memory came rushing back. Right, I was getting a piggyback ride from the Crown Prince and conked out on his shoulder. ...Wait, how on earth did I get back to Chwiseondang?
Seol-hyang provided the answer.
"Eunuch Mun carried you all the way back in his arms while you were snoring away! Do you have any idea how busy an attendant eunuch serving the Crown Prince is, Bong-bong? Does it make any lick of sense for a high-ranking courtier like him to be playing babysitter to a little aegi-nain?"
She sounded like she was scolding me, but for some reason, her cheeks were glowing a vivid, rosy pink.
Aha.
Aside from the logistical mystery of my transport, I picked up on another very interesting piece of information.
Seol-hyang totally has a crush on Eunuch Mun.
They might say every palace woman belongs to the King, but at the end of the day, the royal court is still made of living, breathing human beings.
"I am sorry. I won't fall asleep just anywhere from now on. But you know, about Eunuch Mun..."
Seol-hyang's eyes immediately went round as saucers.
"What about Eunuch Mun?"
"Well, his face is so pale and he looks so tall and slender, right? But unexpectedly..."
I leaned in and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as though divulging an earth-shattering secret.
"His chest was rock-solid. And his arms—my goodness, they were practically bursting with muscle..."
It was a brazen fabrication that would have made Eunuch Mun stammer, 'Me...?' in sheer bewilderment, but who cared? Considering all the times Seol-hyang had teased me about sending me off to clean the palace latrines, this little bit of mischief was downright saintly.
"Good heavens! Really?"
"Yes! And do you think that's all? The muscles on his—ack!"
"M-muscles? What about his muscles?!"
"My throat is parched... cough, cough!"
"Water! Should I fetch you some water?"
"I'd rather have sikhye, if possible... cough, hack!"
"Sikhye? Alright, stay right there!"
"And yakgwa, too."
"Just wait a moment! Don't you dare go back to sleep!"
Watching Seol-hyang's skirts flutter as she dashed frantically out of the room, I couldn't help but giggle. Life in the palace was an exhausting ordeal where you could never let your guard down for a single second, but days like this were needed once in a while.
Yes, absolutely.
My daily routine as an aegi-nain at Chwiseondang boiled down to three main duties:
First, learn palace etiquette.
Second, study Hangul.
Third, fetch drinking water for Seol-hyang and run petty errands.
Truthfully, it was practically a dream gig.
Except for the minor detail that a ticking time bomb is strapped around my neck.
Yet on the eve of the New Year, an exceptionally dangerous mission landed squarely in my lap.
"Hui-bin-jaga is in such a foul temper today... Whatever should we do?"
"Well, there has not been a single whisper from Daejeon. No holiday gifts, no sign of His Majesty visiting..."
"She spent so much time adorning herself and waiting. Her disappointment must be beyond measure."
It was right then, while the senior maids had their heads huddled together in worried whispers, that their collective gaze drifted over to me.
"Why don't we send Bong-bong in?"
"Yes! If a little child babbles around her, it might lift her spirits."
"Even if she isn't pleased, she won't vent her wrath on a mere child."
Excuse me, ladies? I have thoughts and opinions of my own, you know. A little respect, please?
Naturally, the maids didn't bother consulting my opinion in the slightest before shoving me straight into Jang Hui-bin's bedchamber.
"What brings you here at this hour, Bong-bong?"
"Yes, well... you see..."
The gaze she cast down at me was remarkably dry and frosty. It was practically stamped across her forehead in bold brushstrokes: I am in a terrible mood today.
My instincts screamed. The time had come to deploy the corporate survival skills honed in my past life.
"I had a dream about a scary ghost. So I wanted to see Hui-bin-jaga's face..."
"You had a dream about a ghost, so why come to look upon me?"
"Because looking at beautiful things always makes you feel better."
"...Ha."
It was merely a faint scoff of a chuckle, but I had succeeded in cracking through her gloom.
"It seems you think I am pretty, Bong-bong."
"Yes! Even if three hundred and thirty years pass by, there will never be anyone as pretty as Your Highness!"
Evidently pleased by praise rooted in absolute historical fact, the tension in her expression softened considerably.
A promising start. Thank goodness.
To be frank, I had pieced together quite a bit of intelligence regarding Jang Hui-bin during my time here. Her emotions were prone to wild fluctuations, and she frequently suffered from severe chest tightness and breathlessness. The court physicians called it damhwa, but to my modern eyes, it looked remarkably like panic disorder.
It only proves how crushing the stress must be.
And there was another matter she was obsessively sensitive about...
"Where did the rouge go...?"
Her appearance.
Even at this very moment, her hands were rummaging through the drawers of her dressing table, searching for her rouge pot.
Jang Hui-bin had a habit of applying her rouge far too heavily. Piercingly crimson lips paired with dramatic brows darkened with ink—she always favored striking, intense makeup.
In the end, it was all a desperate effort to win back King Sukjong's affection.
I didn't fail to understand her heart.
The only problem was...
Ma'am, you are a warm tone.
Please, I beg of you, stop wearing cool-toned reds...
Her breathtaking beauty transcended modern color analysis enough to soften the blow, but cool reds with bluish undertones simply did not suit her. It made her lips look disconnected from her face, emphasizing a sharp, aloof coldness that worked against her.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Hui-bin was already busily dabbing the rouge onto her lips.
Tap, tap.
Rub, rub.
"Bong-bong, what is that look on your face?"
"My face?"
"You were beaming with smiles a moment ago. Why such a grave look all of a sudden?"
"Well... um..."
Critiquing another woman's makeup wasn't my preferred pastime, but honestly, beggars couldn't be choosers. If there was any way to steer King Sukjong's heart back toward her, I had to try whatever was at hand.
I dropped my head and put on my best trembling, tearful act.
"Until just a moment ago, Hui-bin-jaga was the prettiest person in the whole wide world, but after putting on that red stuff..."
"After putting it on?"
"You're less pretty. Hic."
Her fingers froze mid-stroke.
"Hui-bin-jaga is prettiest when your lips are soft! Like the color of a peach! Soft brows, soft lips..."
"..."
"Bong-bong wants to see the pretty Jaga... sniff."
Even while putting on my little crying performance, my nerves were stretched taut. What if she flew into a rage? What if she kicked me out to empty chamber pots?
"...Perhaps the makeup was a bit heavy," she murmured after a long pause.
I watched through my lowered lashes as she reached for a piece of soft silk cloth and began dabbing the dark rouge from her lips.
Oh. It actually worked.
So please, my lady, from this day forth: bright red is strictly forbidden.