—Is that true?
—It is.
Jin walked past Victor, who stood there, stunned. The Jindo dog trotted out in front of Jin. It seemed to lead, this being a familiar path that the dog ran with Victor. Victor stretched his hand toward the wildflowers out of habit, the same flowers he offered every morning to Jin. The dried bouquets now made a low wall on one side of Jin’s room.
—Did you read today?
—Yes.
—What book was it?
—The poetry of Rimbaud. I also read some Flaubert.
—What do you think of Rimbaud?
—I find him melancholy and anxious. A poet must be someone who sees what others cannot see. I don’t know why, but I felt as if a large boulder were settling down on my heart. Even though I didn’t understand all of it.
Victor gazed at Jin’s black hair as he listened to her beautiful voice. He had been holding back his words, but his control slipped as he fought the urge to stroke her hair.
—I want you to be with me.
The words came out before he realized it. He had wanted to say these words for such a long time.
—If you knew what I said to the King and Queen today, you would despise me.
Jin stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him.
—I told them that I love you.
—. . .
—And I asked them to let you stay here with me.
Her dark, deep gaze seemed to penetrate his own blue eyes.
—My heart is filled with you. And I cannot imagine my days without you.
The evening wind blew, keeping them both company. Jin broke her hard gaze and turned away. Victor knew his words would offend her, as it was clear she wanted nothing more than to return to court. He followed her, determined to accept whatever abuse she would hurl at him.
—Will you take me to France?
Victor froze. He thought he had misheard.
—Someday . . . someday, I mean.
—Is that how you really feel?
Victor could not see the tears that gathered in her eyes.
—Will you accept my love?
That dawn when she realized that the Queen wanted to send her into the arms of the French legate, Jin had met the morning standing underneath the phoenix tree, looking toward the palace. It was pointless. Even with the realization that she may never return to court, there wasn’t a single thing she could do. Soa’s face had briefly flitted by in her memory. And one more thing: the diary she had kept for the Queen as part of her duties during the terrible Year of the Black Horse.
—I’ve already had word from the palace.
—When?
—Four days ago.
Four days ago? Blanc was the only person who had visited the legation on that day.
—Lady Suh brought a missive to Gondangol, and Bishop Blanc passed it on to me.
Was that so? Blanc had had a long conversation with Jin, but Victor hadn’t known about letters being exchanged. Why hadn’t Blanc told him about it? Victor began to feel anxious.
Was it word for her to return to court?
A man’s mind is a tangled skein. The more one tries to untangle it, the worse the tangle becomes.
—It was an order to remain at the legation until Your Excellency leaves Korea.
Victor couldn’t believe his ears. He felt he had been defeated by the Queen. She had not given him the slightest hint that she had sent word to Jin and instead made Victor beg. Not only that, she had refused to give him the answer he was desperate for, making him be the one to mention the possibility of a resident Korean legation. She had read his mind like a book.
—Why did you not tell me?
—I suffered.
Victor said nothing.
—Would you give me some time to decide?
—Time?
Jin was silent. There were many things she wanted to say, but she kept her lips closed. Victor spoke again in a sad voice.
—When will I hear your answer?
—The day I decide, I shall place my fragrance pouch in the pages of Hugo’s Les Misérables in the library.
Jin showed him the small pouch she carried in her sleeve. It was thin and red, embroidered with yellow floss, the length of her palm. Soa had made it for her.
—Will it mean that you accept my love?
Jin did not answer but lowered her head. A sparrow on the grass fluttered up to the sky. Whether she accepted the French legate’s love or not, she would never be able to return to court if the Queen did not change her mind. What happened to court ladies who could not return to court? She breathed deeply. Victor spoke as if it were up to her, but it wasn’t. She hadn’t been formally banished from court, but it was as good as if she were. And even a banished court lady could not wed whomever she pleased. Just as it was not up to her to become the French legate’s wife. The Queen knew this, and her sending Jin to the legate meant she was sending her away forever.
Victor felt pity for Jin, who stood with her head bowed, unable to answer him. It was as if a little bird fallen from its nest was seeking shelter underneath his awning. Even if the woman did not love him, he wanted to be the steady roof that sheltered her.
—It was difficult for me when I was not allowed to speak my mind. Compared to that, waiting for your answer will be sweet. I only hope it is not too long a wait.
Victor saw Jin put out her hand toward the thick rushes, but not the tears that had gathered in her eyes. When she learned Victor was to have an audience with the King, Jin had rubbed ink from an ink stone for the first time since coming to the legation. She stayed up all night writing her letter to the Queen. She complained, she ranted, but in the end, she crumpled these missives and wrote down only two lines. The first declared that she would serve the French legate as ordered by Her Majesty, and the other stated that her roommate Soa knew where her records from the Year of the Black Horse were kept and that the Queen should take these into her safekeeping.
Meanwhile, the Queen spread out before her the notebooks that had been wrapped carefully in a length of linen. They were Jin’s diaries, fetched from Soa by Lady Suh.
Diary of the Sixth Month of the Year of the Black Horse.
The Queen instantly recognized Jin’s calligraphy on the cover of the notebook. Her finger trembled as it flicked over the first page.
Third day of the sixth month.
Her Majesty is moved to Min Eungsik’s house.
We had to change the disguises we wore when we left the palace. Her Majesty has a sore throat and cannot speak. I gave her peppermint oil late last night, but she couldn’t drink it. Perhaps because she went to bed on an empty stomach, she dreamed something unpleasant and called out. Her forehead was drenched with sweat. I dabbed it off. She woke up before dawn, came out to the porch, and leaned on a pillar until the sun rose, her eyes in the direction of the palace.
The Queen frowned as she read on.
They detailed, over fifty days, how she had escaped the rebelling soldiers with her life, moving from Min Eungsik’s house to Yeoju, then Janghowon, then Chunju. The act of recording is also an act of calming oneself. Even if one was only copying the broadsheets posted after the Chinese military entered Korea or making a record of the two days spent in darkness when the Queen suffered from an eye infection. Or the time when a boil appeared on the Queen’s back, and she had to either sit or lie down on her stomach with a medicinal patch stuck to her.
Still frowning, the Queen kept turning the pages.
Twenty-ninth day of the sixth month.
A squall. Her Majesty is devastated that a state funeral was held for her despite how she still lives. She sits up straight with the boil on her back, shedding tears all day. She does not say a word. Late at night, she lets down her hair and cries over and over again, “I am a dead person.” I made her a medicinal brew of bellflower root and licorice, but she refused it. She did not sleep.
Second day of the seventh month.
I read to her, but she seemed n
ot to listen. She is on tenterhooks thinking of the Crown Prince. In the middle of dictating a letter to the King, she shouted, “What letters would a dead person be writing?” She snatched the letter and crumpled it.
When the Queen got to the part where Jin had made her way to the palace with a letter saying she was still alive, she exclaimed aloud, “That poor thing!” She slammed the notebook shut. Lady Suh looked up, startled. She was nervous as she saw the Queen’s eyes narrowing. This meant she was about to make a decision. Such decisions sometimes meant death.
After she sent the French legate home disappointed, the Queen had removed herself from the reception hall and torn open Jin’s letter as she stood in the gardens. There were only two lines in the letter. Was that it? The Queen was bereft. Not a single word more than to say that she would follow her orders and to get the diaries from Soa.
And yet . . . the Queen’s eyes narrowed again.
She had felt herself hesitating as she read the diaries from the Year of the Black Horse. She could feel the writer’s desperation as she detailed each movement of the queen she served. And the Queen finally understood Jin’s intentions regarding the Year of the Black Horse diaries. She wished the Queen to read them and to reconsider her decision, to recall Jin back to court. She thought of how the girl must have cried when she received her letter four days ago. But how would you possibly know my true feelings? The Queen, her hand still touching the cover of the notebook, called for Lady Suh.
—Where is the King?
—He is in the reception hall, Your Majesty.
—Who is with him?
—The Crown Prince and his Foreign Minister.
—Prepare my writing implements.
—Yes, Your Majesty.
As Lady Suh rubbed the ink stone, the Queen began speaking again to Lady Suh.
—I shall wed Lady Attendant Suh to the French legate.
Lady Suh became pale, and she looked up at the Queen.
—She’ll be better off at the French legation than this prison. Do you not agree?
—Your Majesty, as an initiated court lady of the palace . . .
—I am aware that it is out of my purview. That is why I shall obtain a dispensation from the King himself.
The Queen, her frown deeper than ever, cut off all discussion on the matter.
6
Take Me to the Louvre
Your Excellency,
The Korean king shows much interest in the cultural goods of France. He told me that he has heard of the beauty of France’s architecture and wishes to hire a French architect for Korea’s palaces. I began negotiations through the Bank of Paris in Tientsin, which ended quickly thanks to M. Salabelle’s agreement, his pay agreed at three thousand won a year.
The King requested the loan of some illustrated books to give him a better idea of our architecture. Despite my considerable library, I do not have any books in this field. Therefore, I presented to him the seven volumes of Guizot’s History of France, and he was much moved by the illustrations therein. He wished to keep the books for himself. He also seemed interested in the uniforms our military men wore . . .
I request books be sent of our national architectural treasures—the Louvre, the Tuileries, the Palace of Versailles, and the greatest monuments and cathedrals of Paris. The King has also expressed interest in our military these past few months. If General d’Amade were to visit, he should have a very welcome reception and have an audience with the King many times over. The King has already requested a full description of the rules of our infantry, cavalry, and artillery units. I had to inform him that I did not possess such information and that I would have to send a request to Paris. The King desires expedience in this matter, and so I write to Your Excellency herein.
December 10, 1888
Victor Collin de Plancy
The leaves of the phoenix tree fell softly that dawn.
Before she set out for Gondangol, Jin went to the library and took down Les Misérables from the shelf. It was the story of Jean Valjean, who spent nineteen years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. She had read it three times, which made her think of him as a friend more than a character. The book was one that Victor had recommended during that time when she virtually lived in the library. He told her that the author was the most beloved in France. Despite skipping a few parts that she couldn’t understand, Jin had immersed herself in the book, reading and rereading the stories of “the miserable ones.”
Jin opened the book to a random page and cast her eyes over the waves of French words. It was the scene where Valjean was caught stealing the silver candlesticks owned by Bishop Myriel, who had given him shelter for the night. If it weren’t for Myriel’s kindness, what would’ve become of Valjean? Jin smiled. The joy of reading came from imagining the answer to that very question, What would’ve happened? When Myriel had testified that he had gifted the candlesticks and Valjean was not a thief, Jin had felt her heart would burst. What would’ve become of Valjean otherwise? He would not have lived a new life under a new name. Jin carefully placed her fragrance pouch on the part where the rough heart of Valjean, having known only poverty and loneliness, realized the power of love. She saw a flash of Yeon’s face on the pouch. She stood still for a long time.
—The leaves of the phoenix tree have fallen.
Jin was startled out of her reverie by Victor’s voice. She thought he was still asleep, but there he was, looking out into the courtyard.
—It would make a good geomungo zither.
Victor gestured to the phoenix tree. Jin came over and stood next to him. She murmured, “geomungo . . .”
—I shall be visiting Gondangol this morning.
—Is something going on at the orphanage?
There wasn’t. She simply did not want to see Victor’s face today, having placed the fragrance pouch into Les Misérables.
—What do you plan to do there?
—I shall tell you when I return.
Jin made haste to leave, and Victor walked her to the gate.
The cabbages were harvested, and the vegetable patch lay bare. The cold winds hushed the birds. Winter approached, and the ground would freeze. Victor, still unaware that Jin had planted her acquiescence of his love in the pages of Les Misérables, watched her go. She never looked back. It was now months since he had gone to the library every morning to see if the pouch was there in the copy of Hugo’s novel.
When Jin first suggested she help out the woman Suh at the orphanage, Victor refused to allow it. He could never forget how she was assaulted on that fateful day of their first visit. While the incident had given him an excuse to extend her stay at the legation, he still thought it was dangerous for her to go there. Disappointed, Jin had once again shut herself in the library. Victor proposed a compromise. She was to ride out on a palanquin and return before nightfall. Jin stated that she would ride the palanquin only when she was returning; she wanted to take in the sights of the people going about their business in the morning. Victor had no choice but to accept. He could not refuse anything she said, for to him she was like a bird that could fly away at any moment.
Victor made her soup every morning. He loved sitting across from her as they ate their soup together. Victor would then go running with the Jindo dog, and Jin would head on out to Gondangol. She enjoyed the morning breeze as she walked there. A freedom was in that breeze, something she never felt when she was in the palace. She walked among the people who carried their kindling or vegetables on their cows to sell by the roadside, the women with the water pails balanced on their heads, the butcher’s and other stores and the silk market that had not yet opened, feeling her restlessness calming as she made her way. She had to make this walk every morning if she were to feel motivated for the rest of the day. The woman Suh sighed, thinking that Jin was diverting herself to the care of the children so she could forget what was happening at court.
What Jin did at the orphanage mostly was teach. In the morning, she taught Korean to the two F
rench nuns who did administrative work at the orphanage, and in the evening, she brought the boys and girls together to teach Korean history. When there was time between teaching, she showed them a simple dance movement or told them about life in the palace. The children listened wide-eyed as if to a fairy tale. In the late afternoons, the woman Suh heated up some water and washed each child. She had a designated bathing vat in the backyard of the orphanage, with an earthen stove and an iron pot to boil the water nearby. Bathing two or three at a time meant everybody got a bath about once every two days. The children ran away from her as she chased after them for their bath, but once she gave up, they jumped into the vat themselves.
As on any other day, Jin was helping Suh with the bathing. When Suh washed their hair, Jin cleaned their little feet, and when Suh scrubbed their backs, Jin lifted their arms and washed their armpits. Suh watched Jin as she stood the children in a line and dried their hair before putting them in their linen clothes. She found herself asking her a question.
—Are you worried about something?
Jin looked up from helping a girl put on her jacket.
—Do I seem so?
—You haven’t said a word all day.
—Oh, Mother.
Suh gave a start. Jin would refer to Suh as her mother to others, but it was the first time she had called her that to her face. The little girl, now fully clothed, put on her shoes and ran out toward the orphanage courtyard.
—I put the fragrance pouch in the book this morning.
Suh stopped in the middle of gathering the old clothes the children had left behind. Jin had told her that she would be with the legate when she left the fragrance pouch in a French book. They were silent for a while.
—He waited a long time for me.
Suh nodded. She saw how much the French legate loved her. She had watched him wait for Jin to open her heart. If he hadn’t wanted her love, he would not have waited so long for this king’s woman to accept him. She felt it was a good thing but was saddened by the thought of how Yeon would feel. She had known for a long time that while Yeon never mentioned it, Jin was the only woman in his heart.