Chapter 20:
The Queen (1)
Under the radiant moonlight illuminating the palace night, Ji-yeong was just leaving the royal kitchen, carrying a tray covered with silk.
Her destination was Gyotaejeon, the Queen’s chambers.
Hurrying along with quick steps to avoid being late, she rounded a stone wall corner when a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows.
“Eek!”
Thud!
Colliding unexpectedly with the stranger, Ji-yeong let out a short scream and stumbled, losing her balance.
In that moment, the tray in her hands flew into the air, the scene unfolding before her eyes like slow motion.
“…No!!”
She reached out desperately, but it was a futile gesture.
Unable to bear witnessing the impending disaster, Ji-yeong squeezed her eyes shut.
Yet, the expected sound of the tray crashing to the ground never came.
Opening her eyes cautiously, she saw the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere deftly catching the tray.
“What are you doing? Watch where you’re going!” Ji-yeong shouted, trying to mask her shock.
“You weren’t exactly careful yourself…” came a reply, annoyingly nonchalant yet somehow familiar.
Only then did she notice the colorful sleeves and the red vest draped over them.
And where a face should have been, there was a red Chwibari mask.
“You’re… the one from the market this afternoon…”
A playful glint sparkled in the eyes visible through the mask’s holes.
“Ah… I’m sorry about earlier. I’m just a lowly performer, so my actions are crude.”
“How did you get in here?”
This was the royal palace, home of the king.
Surely a place where a street clown shouldn’t be able to enter…
As if reading Ji-yeong’s thoughts, the Chwibari-masked figure shrugged.
“How should I know? They say the king loves clown dances, so I was summoned.”
“His Majesty… summoned clowns…?”
“He’s quite an eccentric one, isn’t he? Though, from what I can tell, you’re in a similar boat.”
“…Similar? Who’s similar to whom?”
“We both have to appease a capricious king to survive, don’t we? You and I are in the same predicament.”
The eyes behind the mask gazed at Ji-yeong steadily.
Deep, dark eyes that seemed to hold countless untold stories.
At that moment, a voice called out from the distance.
“Hey, you! What are you doing standing there?”
“Already chasing after palace maids?”
Looking toward the sound, Ji-yeong saw a group of clowns, presumably his troupe, waiting for the masked man.
“You were… taking this somewhere, weren’t you?”
The Chwibari-masked man thrust the tray toward her.
Snapping back to her task of delivering the meal to the Queen’s palace, Ji-yeong snatched the tray with deliberate coldness to hide her flustered state.
“Anyway, I’d prefer not to cross paths with you again.”
With a sharp retort, she hurried off with the tray.
“The palace is still unfamiliar to me, but that direction seems to lead outside the walls…”
“That’s none of your business, is it?”
He was right—she had gotten turned around in her panic.
But unwilling to appear foolish, Ji-yeong put on an even more curt expression.
The clown slowly lifted the mask above his head.
As the moonlight gradually revealed his face, Ji-yeong thought, *…Huh? This isn’t what I expected.*
What appeared was a gentle gaze, a refined nose, and a sharp jawline.
He was strikingly handsome, hardly what one would expect of a street clown.
Yet, what stood out more was the strange aura he exuded.
A freedom unique to someone of the lowest class, yet tinged with an inexplicable air of dignity.
A face embodying that curious contradiction.
Then, out of nowhere, the clown blurted, “How would you know whether it’s my business or not?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grinned cheekily. “We’ll be seeing each other often, so let’s not growl at one another. People in similar situations should help each other out.”
“Are you always this presumptuous? Popping up out of nowhere, butting in like this?”
“That’s just what we clowns do.”
At that moment, his troupe called out again, urging him.
“Gong-gil, you rascal, what’s taking you so long?”
“Ugh, why so impatient? Did you fall in a latrine and get possessed by a ghost? I’m coming!”
The man called Gong-gil shouted back to his troupe, then turned to Ji-yeong.
“Those rotten guys keep nagging. I’d love to chat more, but I’ve got to go. Well then…”
Gong-gil covered his handsome face with the ugly Chwibari mask again and gave a playful bow.
“…I had a blast this time, too.”
Ji-yeong stared blankly as Gong-gil danced away with a jaunty step.
Gong-gil? Could it be…
The Gong-gil who was a clown for Yeonsangun?
That man was that Gong-gil?
Snapping out of her daze, Ji-yeong hurriedly resumed her path to Gyotaejeon.
Unseen, a shadow quietly observed the entire scene from a dark corner.
…
The next morning, the palace atmosphere was tense.
Perhaps it was the sight of royal physicians rushing toward the Queen’s palace.
Suppressing a growing unease, Ji-yeong focused on preparing ingredients in the royal kitchen.
But she wasn’t entirely unaware of the storm that was about to hit.
– Clang
As if to confirm her premonition, the kitchen door was flung open roughly.
Leading the group was Chuwol, the head palace maid of the inner court’s inspection department.
Behind her followed several inspection maids and a couple of military officers from the Royal Guard.
Chef Jeon greeted them first with a bow.
“What brings the head inspection maid here?”
“I heard the evening meal for the Queen’s palace was prepared by this main kitchen. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but…”
“There’s an issue at the Queen’s palace, so the inner court requires your cooperation for an investigation.”
Before he could finish, the inspection maids began rummaging through the kitchen’s jars, sacks, and baskets.
“What is the meaning of this?!” the kitchen staff protested, trying to stop the uninvited intruders, but the Royal Guard officers drew their swords.
– Shing
Faced with the glint of sharp blades, the kitchen staff had no choice but to step back.
Something serious was clearly unfolding.
“What’s this investigation about? Is it acceptable to barge into the royal kitchen, where the king’s meals are prepared, like this?” Ji-yeong demanded, raising her voice.
Chuwol responded with a cold expression. “Last night, Her Majesty the Queen fell gravely ill. Shouldn’t we check what was in the food served to her?”
“What… what do you mean…?”
Before Chef Jeon could interject, an inspection maid’s voice rang out.
“We found it.”
She was pointing to a sack of white powder used the previous day.
Chuwol strode over and, without hesitation, dipped her finger into the powder and tasted it.
Was the faint smile on her face just Ji-yeong’s imagination?
“It’s wheat flour.”
“It’s top-grade wheat from Hwanghae Province, milled by hand,” Chef Jeon explained.
Ji-yeong added, “It’s one of the ingredients used in yesterday’s dish for His Majesty. I saw him enjoy it myself. Is there a problem?”
“Then, this same wheat flour was used for the meal sent to Gyotaejeon?”
“What are you trying to say?” Ji-yeong pressed, growing irritated by Chuwol’s rude demeanor.
Just then, the kitchen door opened again, and another group entered.
The sound of those footsteps alone told Ji-yeong who it was.
Lady Sukyong Jang Nok-su.
As she entered with a strange smile, Ji-yeong instinctively knew a storm was about to sweep through the kitchen.
“Let’s find out what this is all about together,” Nok-su said, turning to someone behind her.
There stood a white-haired official in a miscellaneous official’s robe, trembling.
“If the royal physician, who just examined Her Majesty, speaks, it must be true. Tell us Her Majesty’s condition exactly as it is.”
The elderly physician, shaking like a leaf, cautiously began, “I… I haven’t directly checked Her Majesty’s pulse, but I conducted a consultation… More thorough examination is needed, but…”
“Speak clearly! This is a grave matter!” Nok-su snapped sharply.
The old physician’s neck shrank like a turtle’s as he reluctantly continued.
“…Last night, Her Majesty reported severe stomach distress, followed by vomiting and bleeding this morning. Based on symptoms described in medical texts…”
“And what does that mean?” Nok-su pressed.
“…It’s possible… that the pregnancy has been lost.”
At those words, the faces of everyone present turned ashen.
The loss of a pregnancy meant the unborn prince had been miscarried.
Though there was a young crown prince already appointed, the sudden loss of a royal child, especially from the legitimate queen, was no small matter.
In the stunned silence that followed, it was, predictably, Nok-su who broke it.
“Until recently, I heard Her Majesty was in good health. How should we view this sudden illness? Could it be she ate something she shouldn’t have?”
“T-That’s…” The physician was now sweating profusely, sensing the weight his words could carry.
“Speak plainly, or do you need to face interrogation?” Nok-su thundered.
The hesitant physician finally spoke. “In truth… Her Majesty suffered a similar illness a few years ago… after eating noodles made from wheat flour.”
“You’re certain?”
“How could I not be?”
As the physician hurriedly bowed, Nok-su’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she turned to the kitchen staff.
“Then, this is the fault of the royal kitchen for sending improper food to Gyotaejeon. Or perhaps…”
Her gaze turned predatory, like a wildcat eyeing its prey.
“…a deliberate attempt to exploit Her Majesty’s unique condition with malicious intent?”
…
Author’s Note
Gong-gil is a real historical figure, mentioned only once in the annals as a clown [偶人]. It is said he was punished for admonishing the king’s wrongs during a performance before Yeonsangun.
