The calligrapher's daughter_ a novel - Eugenia Kim [61]
Another turn to the right and we saw the empress’s residence of plain mortar and unpainted wood nestled serenely in trees, a scene which made me yearn for home. At the third house of this complex we were shown into a broad sitting room, where the princess was playing cat’s cradle with a middle-aged lady-in-waiting. After bows, formalities and giving her the gift of the embroidered blue silk, I murmured, “Your Imperial Highness, this person gives sincere thanks for your kind invitation.”
“What fun. How sweetly spoken! Please come and sit with me. How thin you are. Look at your wrists compared to mine!” Her tiny voice was measured and lyrical, and she grasped my hands. Surprised at such casual touching from royalty, I almost withdrew. Her wrists were rounded and soft like Imo’s, and her skin’s delicate whiteness recalled my father’s description of me as being dark as a peasant. She wore a sheer white silk top and pale green skirt of exquisite quality, and her hair was styled in elaborately wrapped braids. She draped the cat’s cradle cord around my fingers. “Do you know how to play?”
How graciously she had put me at ease! “Your Imperial Highness is too kind to allow this person to sit beside you.” She looked smaller than me but acted with far more refinement than one would expect from a twelve-year-old.
“Yes, of course. Let’s play. You start.”
With Imo watching, I knotted patterns that would be easy for the princess to refigure. I was careful to position my hands to avoid touching hers. Her rice-cake cheeks and the simplicity in her straight-line eyes gave her an indolent air, as if an easy summer’s day had begun its descent into dusk. I kept the game going until I sensed she was losing interest, then pretended to fumble and lost the figure.
“Oh no!” she cried with obvious pleasure. “We must try again.” After a few turns, Imo bowed to the princess, gave me an approving look and left to spend the morning with Empress Yun. The princess and I played for hours. Naturally, I had played all sorts of games with Dongsaeng many times, but never for as long as I played with the princess. I greatly enjoyed the leisure and won and lost just the right amount to keep her amused. Her playthings, most foreign and still in unopened boxes, filled two cabinets that I longed to explore, but she was only interested in simple games. I found it easy to be both deferential and inventive with her toys. Kaleidoscopes became telescopes. Each turn of the glass showed another aspect of her magic kingdom, which we described to each other, back and forth, until she said it was perfect. We made her wind-up tin toys waddle and roll across the floor, then gave them all names and roles in her magic kingdom. Of the characters I made up, she wanted to know more about the jajangmyeon man—the vendor who ladled a sweet black-bean sauce over a steaming bowl of noodles—the sandal peddler, mermaid, missionary, and neighbor girls who walked arm in arm to school. She made her tin characters into changing guards, chamberlain, nephew of the lord steward—to whom I knew she was secretly betrothed—duke, ladies-in-waiting and eunuch. I was curious to know more about the chauffeurs and how it felt to ride in the Daimler or the Cadillac, wanted to hear more about the fourth and fifth wives, and what it was like to have a tasting servant, but didn’t ask.
I was presented to Empress Yun in Nakson Hall late in the afternoon. Spare furnishings enhanced the harmony of the spacious rooms trimmed with intricate shell inlay and carved wood. I could tell that Imo was pleased with my bow and greeting. The empress was tall, with heightened hair that made her look even more imposing. She wore a deep pink-and-white hanbok with delicate gold borders. Her straight eyes had brows that pointed slightly downward to an elegant nose, making her gaze appear sharply intelligent. Her full bottom lip underlined an impression of resolve. She nodded to a folding screen