—I want to dance.
To Yeon’s flute, she wanted to say but didn’t. Suh stood up and left the backyard. When she returned, she had a wrapped bundle in her hands. She placed it wordlessly before Jin. Jin didn’t ask her what it was. She already knew they were her marital bedclothes. She had asked Suh one day as she sewed, “What are you working on?” And Suh, after a silence, answered, “These are for you.” Jin was looking down at the bundle when a boy came up to her, his cheeks flush with excitement, and said, “Someone is here for you.” Jin asked, “Who?” The boy couldn’t answer.
Jin wiped her wet hands and came out to the courtyard. Victor stood by the gate.
Had he seen the fragrance pouch she had left between the pages of Les Misérables?
Victor, in his suit vest, watched Jin walk toward him. His direct gaze made Jin feel self-conscious. How strange the human heart was. She felt unable to treat him in the same, natural way that she did before placing the fragrance pouch. Sister Jacqueline, one of the French nuns, saw Victor and greeted him. She stepped into the courtyard and smiled at Jin. The mischievous children also looked to and fro from Jin’s face to Victor’s.
—What brings you here?
Perhaps it was the children who made her self-conscious. She glanced at their little heads popping out from the orphanage doors.
—I came here to take you to the photography studio before seeing you to the legation.
Hwang Cheol’s studio. Victor now developed his photos there and relied on Hwang for camera parts imported from China and Japan.
—Why the studio?
Victor only grinned.
—Are you going somewhere with Hwang Cheol?
—No. I want us to have a commemorative photo taken.
He had seen the fragrance pouch. The downy tips of Jin’s ears blushed.
—I want to commemorate this day with you.
She had slipped a letter in the pouch instead of dried flowers. It said that she would prepare tea for him late one night, but she hadn’t thought it would be that very same night. She had meant, whenever the night it would be that he discovered the fragrance pouch in Les Misérables. Jin was unaware that Victor had flicked through the book day and night in hopes of getting her answer. The woman Suh came out and invited Victor in. But Victor said it would be better to leave now and looked at Jin.
—Then leave first. I shall meet you outside the gate.
Victor left through the gate, a few children trailing after him. Suh fetched the silk bundle from the backyard. Some other children, who were picking from the cloud of red dates on the date tree, ran to Jin to stroke the silk bundle. Jin stroked their heads.
—He’s waiting for you.
As Jin made it to the gate and turned to look at Suh, Suh made a waving-away gesture meaning Jin should be on her way. Suh’s eyes were moist. She stood watching Jin disappear. I must sew her some quilts before it gets too cold. Suh brushed off her skirt and took the children by the hand and led them back inside.
Jin and Victor, as they left the orphanage and entered the main road, were as silent as a married couple who had just argued.
Since coming to the legation, Jin’s steadiest conversation partners had been the Jindo dog and Victor. She would whisper her hidden thoughts to the dog, but it was Victor who told her endless stories of what life was like across the ocean. He talked of the steam engine, sticking stamps on letters, the music of violins and organs, and stories from Greek mythology or the saints of the Middle Ages. Of a philosopher named Nietzsche, who shocked the learned people of Europe by declaring that God was dead. He also mentioned how paintings from China and Japan were all the rage in France. When he declared that the world might be ruled by one strong country in the future, Jin led him into a discussion that lasted for three hours. And the nights when they compared French books to Korean ones were too short for them to reach any conclusion.
But here they were now, guarding their silence as they loosely kept pace with each other.
There was a portrait hanging at the entrance of the studio of the minister plenipotentiary Min Young-ik and his group. Min was close to the Queen, and so Jin was familiar with him. Dr. Allen had saved him when he was attacked by an assassin sent by Kim Okgyun, winning the Queen’s favor and enabling Allen to set up Gwanghyewon. Mixed in with the people wearing traditional clothes, Western suits, and student uniforms was Seo Gwangbeom of the Enlightenment movement, holding up a photograph from his travels. Victor approached Jin as she gazed at Min Young-ik in the photo.
—I thought it was a shame that we couldn’t hold a wedding here in Korea. Which is why I thought we might take a picture instead.
The first words he’d spoken since they left the orphanage. Hwang Cheol had been talking to another guest but greeted Victor warmly in Chinese as they entered. His guest happened to be Hong Jong-u.
—What a coincidence! We were just talking about Your Excellency.
—Good things, I hope?
—You must’ve done many bad things to be wondering about that.
Hwang Cheol gave a hearty laugh.
—Hong Jong-u is preparing to leave for his studies in Paris and wished to meet you. He’s going to be the first Korean to study in France. He needs your help.
—I am happy to assist.
—He wishes to study law in Paris. He wants to see what he can learn for Korea. It is unprecedented, so he is not sure what to do.
—It would help to carry an introductory letter from someone of good standing.
The tall Hong Jong-u, with his black, wide-brimmed gat hat and simple white robe, bowed to Victor and glanced at Jin. He said he already had a passport issued by the Minister of Diplomacy, but he would absolutely need Victor’s help.
Hwang Cheol did not only take portraits. He also lugged his cameras around to capture scenery such as of the fortress walls, Gyeongbokgung Palace, and Inwangsan Mountain. Sometimes Jin and Victor would accompany him, with Jin disguised as a man. They were soon joined by Hong Jong-u. Victor always took photos of Jin at these locations. Hwang Cheol teased Jin and Victor about their hours-long conversations about Eastern and Western books, poetry, and paintings, wondering aloud how two people who lived together still found so many things to talk about. Hong Jong-u was displeased. He said he found it odd that a court lady, who should be at court, was living in the French legation.
Jin had caught the Queen’s interest in all things foreign. Listening to Victor talk of the world outside was like seeing it with her own eyes. Once Hwang Cheol and Hong Jong-u joined their conversation, their horizons expanded to Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Japan. Victor set the tone of their conversation when they discussed how France had wrested French Indochina from the Chinese. Jin was surprised at his knowledge of the East, and it had been an occasion to see Victor in a different light.
—But what brings you to the studio today?
—We’re here to take a commemorative photo.
Hwang Cheol and Hong Jong-u looked at him, questioningly.
—We trust you to take a good portrait of us together.
Hong Jong-u frowned. Hwang Cheol called upon his assistant to prepare the shoot, saying they had to make haste before they lost the light. There was still some illumination from the glass window. Victor stepped onto the straw mat and waited for Jin to join him. Jin, conscious of Hong’s frown, took her position beside Victor.
—Perhaps we should have dinner together since we’re all here.
—We must see Bishop Blanc. But we shall invite you both to the legation soon.
Happiness makes the days feel busy.
Jin shot Victor a questioning look, but Victor only smiled. Taking the photo took a long time. It took twice as long to set up the studio’s camera than Victor’s state-of-the-art equipment. Victor asked Hwang Cheol to take special care in developing this shot. He wanted the print to last forever.
Hong Jong-u respectfully said to Victor that he would visit the legation soon. He didn’t so much as nod at Jin.
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Blanc was surprised by Victor’s sudden visit. He greeted them at the annex of the traditional Korean house he used as a church. It was still his dream to construct a proper cathedral in Korea. Victor took out a small wooden box and opened it before him. There was an old ring with three leaves engraved on it.
—It belonged to my mother.
The French legate’s mother?
Jin felt nervous. Every person in the world had a mother, but she did not until this moment imagine what Victor’s mother would be like. Nor what any of his family were like.
—Are you proposing marriage?
—I am.
Happy people are prone to making promises.
The lack of hesitation in Victor’s reply made Blanc give Jin a look of concern. He seemed to ask whether this was what she wanted as well.
—Please make it so.
Victor’s face brightened at Jin’s reply. But Blanc looked despondent.
—But why so suddenly?
—It isn’t sudden. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. By Korean law, initiated court ladies are not allowed to hold weddings. It is not my place as a foreign diplomat to break local laws. But thankfully I have this ring, so I would like to make a promise before the bishop instead of a wedding.
—Your Excellency!
—I know what you’re worried about. I have thought about it for a long time. I want her to be my wife.
A pall came over Blanc’s face. How long would Victor feel this way? Promises made in the heat of passion were forgotten once passion cooled. How could he take Victor’s oath seriously? Blanc sometimes had doubts about his profession, despite his having entered Korea as a man of God. What was wrong with leaving the Koreans to live in the manner they wanted? France occupied Indochina and took the people’s timber, rice, coal, and pearls. That was imperialism. Was missionary work ethical under such pretenses? To assuage his doubt, he would often ask for increases in his orphanage funding from Paris. He understood Victor’s wish to marry Jin, but he also couldn’t with good conscience allow Victor to do whatever he wanted. He was worried that Victor was thinking of Jin as if she were a pearl or a tusk of ivory pilfered from Indochina.
Blanc’s silence made Victor nervous.
—We will always be together.
Then there was Yeon, Blanc thought. Blanc himself had brought Jin and Yeon together. Anyone with the least amount of sense was clear on what Yeon felt for Jin. Blanc had wanted to lead the mute boy into priesthood but the boy had chosen to become a court musician instead. Because Jin was at court. He had accepted that there was nothing to be done, as Jin was a court lady. But for her to become the wife of the French legate! Unimaginable. How devastated Yeon would be when he found out. This clever, bright girl whom he had known since her youth. Who knew his teaching her French would lead her to such a fate?
But everything that exists has a beginning somewhere.
Jin listened to the sound of the fallen leaves being swept on the legation courtyard. The winter chill had crept upon them. She could hear the whining of the Jindo dog from time to time, the dog that had been a gift from the Minister of Diplomacy to Victor when he first arrived in Korea. It had grown big, but this was its first winter. The first time it saw the wilting of the orchids, the retreat of the fiery maple, and the fall of the phoenix tree leaves that were as large as a person’s face.
Jin looked down at the ring that Blanc had put on her finger for Victor. When she turned from the study, she found that the legation cook had placed on the table a French dish of lightly sautéed beef, mushrooms, vegetables, and garlic. A red chrysanthemum cutting stood in a vase between the two settings, and a bottle of wine lay in a long basket. Neither person spoke as they ate. Jin felt suffocated by the atmosphere. It was so tense that the clang of the fork on her plate filled the room. She left the table as soon as she was finished.
Suh had packed not one but two sets of marital bedclothes. One of the sets was meant for Victor, seeing how it had long sleeves and legs. Within the folds of the linen was some sandalwood scent that Jin had used when she was at court. Her throat constricted with tears, and it was only much later when she heated up some bathing water and dropped the sandalwood scent into the water for her bath.
When she was ready, she blew out the lamp.
She heard Victor, who had been standing in the courtyard, take off his shoes and come in through the glass door. His footsteps stopped in front of her room. She waited for his knock, but it never came. Nor did the sound of his steps retreating.
Jin got up and slowly opened her room door. Victor stood there in the dark. She stepped aside, and he entered. He was so tall he had to bend to come through the doorway.
Jin lit the candle on a French candlestick Victor had once gifted her. Their shadows soon danced on the walls. She had blown out the lamp because she wanted to use this very candlestick. Victor saw the piles of wildflowers drying on one side of the room. The pinks and violets had faded without moisture to sustain them. Foxtails and reeds were mixed in with them. A tea set was neatly laid out on a low table beside the flowers.
Victor looked at Jin’s hand peeking out from her wide sleeve. The ring that Blanc had placed there was still present, which was a relief. And yet he said something silly.
—Thank you for following my wishes today.
It was the ring worn by his mother when she wed his much older father. He had lied when he said to Blanc that his mother had given it to him. He had stolen the ring from his mother when he wanted to propose to Marie in Plancy. But he never got the chance to even show it to her. His family home had been turned upside down when the ring went missing, and he had simply kept it with him ever since. The ring had surfaced from deep inside a drawer when he was packing for China in France. He had looked at it and slipped it into his bags.
—Would you like some tea?
As Jin stood to fetch the tea set, Victor gently hugged her from behind. Her clothes rustled, and he could smell the sandalwood.
A wind blew, strong enough to finish off the last leaves on the phoenix tree. Its fruit, shaped like sailboats, would also scatter far and wide in the wind.
Victor gazed down at Jin’s half-moon forehead, her dark eyes, and small, plush lips.
—Do you know why I went to Gondangol today?
Was it not because of the photograph and Blanc?
—I did want to take a photograph with you and have Blanc put the ring on your finger. But more than anything else, I was worried you would not return.
Victor closed his eyes at the scent of her hair.
—I was helpless the moment I found the fragrance pouch.
—. . .
—How strange it is. I’d been waiting to see that pouch for so long, but once I saw it, I was taken by the fear that you would never return. I could not sit here waiting for you to come back.
Why had he thought she would never return?
Grateful that he had allowed her to work at the orphanage, Jin always returned to the legation as promised in a palanquin before sundown. She made a Korean-style dinner and sometimes had tea and conversation with Guérin or Paul Choi. Victor once asked her, with the air of making a difficult request, whether she would accompany him on a moonlit walk. They had gone as far as the Gate of Greeting Autumn and visited the Diplomats’ Club in Jeongdong. The Russian legate, whom Victor had befriended, also visited the French legation. The diplomats treated Jin as Victor’s legitimate companion. Whatever they thought in private, they accorded her respect in public. There were evenings when the Board of Trade and Diplomacy officials and the French people at the legation dined together. The cook’s face would be flush with the pleasure of picking out new pottery and having to go all the way to Mapo Harbor to procure fresh ingredients. Even Guérin, who once regarded Jin’s presence at the legation as an inconvenience, remarked that the legation seemed more like a home since Jin’s arrival. Other than the times she felt sad thinking of the Queen, Jin found her days filled with contentme
nt.
—I think I can rest easy now.
How different their minds were. Victor was anxious that she would not return to him, but Jin feared that he might give her up. Now that she knew she could not return to court, there was nowhere else she could turn to. That fear had made her place the fragrance pouch in Les Misérables. And that wasn’t all she feared; she was afraid of what would happen to Yeon’s heart.
—I love you.
Victor tenderly cradled Jin in his arms and kissed her forehead. His hands trembled as they undid the ribbon at the top of her bedclothes. Her round shoulders emerged from the linen. When he loosened the string of her skirt, the white band that wrapped her chest was revealed. Her breasts swelled as Victor fumbled through the knots and released them. Jin covered her wound with her hand. It was healed, but the scar remained. Victor gently lifted her hand and kissed the scar. Jin winced. Victor buried his face in her freed breasts. There couldn’t possibly be anything else in the world that was rounder or softer. They were like white clouds, the white moon, like pure water.
Who is this man, to me?
It seemed like only a moment had passed between Victor’s hands laying the flowers in her room to their releasing her skirts layer by layer. Jin’s hands stayed his. She cupped his face with her hands. Their gazes met, as did the rhythm of their breathing. Jin’s dark eyes looked into Victor’s blue ones in the candlelight. Jin’s hand traced Victor’s forehead, eyes, nose, and lips. They were like the mindful touch of a blind man who had to find his way without his cane. When Jin reached his lips, she felt tears well up in her eyes. Victor’s lips moved slowly toward Jin’s face and licked the salty moisture that had gathered underneath her eyes. He remembered the name Jin had made for him the first day she had come to the legation.
—I am your Gillin, and yours only.
Jin closed her wet eyes and whispered to him.
—Take me to the Louvre.
—I shall.
—Take me to Notre Dame.
—I shall.
—To the Bois de Boulogne.