The calligrapher's daughter_ a novel - Eugenia Kim [66]
“The princess is too kind—”
“Silly. You’re my friend.”
“This person is honored.”
She sighed and glanced at Madame Bongnyeong. “No, Hyung-nim, I’m grateful. I didn’t know how lonely I was until you came.”
Surprised and flattered that she used the intimate and respectful word for friend, I bowed my head. “Your Highness.”
Madame Bongnyeong finished the chapter and said, “Shall I continue?”
“Yes, if you’d be kind enough to indulge us. Your reading is very soothing.” The princess picked up a paper flower and gazed at the gardens. “Now I will tell you a secret.” I leaned closer and she smiled smugly. “Do you know the lord steward? He’s the tall one with glasses and the pointed nose. Skinny, like you. He has elegant manners, and maybe if he took off his glasses, he could be very handsome for an old man.”
“I’ve seen him from far away.” Knowing what she would soon reveal, I said, “He looks regal. I think he has strong features—quite good-looking and distinguished.”
She leaned closer. “I’m secretly engaged to his nephew.”
I acted appropriately surprised. “Since when? Have you ever met your betrothed?”
“Of course not. His family doesn’t even live in Seoul. Since I was seven and he was four.”
“So early!”
“Yes.” She unfolded and refolded the paper flower. “Do you know about my fourth brother, Prince Uimin?”
“The one who went to study at Tokyo University?”
She nodded. “Lady Yun told me that because he was the heir apparent, they made him go to school in Japan. When my family learned he had become engaged to a Japanese princess, they betrothed me right away. They wanted to be sure I’d marry someone appropriate.” By appropriate I knew she meant Korean.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I thought I understood her bouts of melancholy. For such a young and always-watched girl, her family’s complicated circumstances undoubtedly made life hard to bear. In light of this and my foolish propeller story, I said, “I’m ashamed I told you about the guard.”
“No, don’t be. It’s partly why I’m telling you this. She was very nice— my brother’s wife, Princess Masako of Nashimoto—very good to me, kind and beautifully poised. We call her Princess Bangja.”
“When did you meet her?”
“A year after they married, they came home to visit.” Princess Deokhye tore a corner of the crimson paper flower and shredded it. A breeze floated the pieces until they landed on the lotus leaves. “Maybe they shouldn’t have come, because their son got sick and died here. Only nine months old—too sad!” She scattered the last tiny pieces on the pond, where they melted like drops of blood.
“How sad!” I echoed sympathetically.
“He would’ve been heir. I heard gossip from mean people that it was just as well—better than having a half-Japanese heir. But the emperor mourned as much as the parents.”
As it had been with Imo, I felt helpless and could think of nothing to say. I handed her another paper flower and leaned a little closer to her. We sat quietly, watching cherry blossom petals fluttering to the pond, and listened to Madame Bongnyeong’s steady reading. The other group climbed noisily down the path toward our pavilion. Princess Deokhye touched my hand and said, “Princess Bangja couldn’t have been more refined and affectionate to me, even in her grief. And some of the guards—like yours—”
“He’s not mine!”
“He is if I say so!”
I mock-frowned, and she laughed behind her hand.
“He always speaks courteously, not like some of the others who show nothing on their faces but that stupid smug superiority.”
“Here they come. I understand what you’re saying,” I said quickly. “They’re not all the same, yes?”
She nodded.
“Your Highness is most gracious in her concern by sharing her feelings about Princess Bangja. This person is undeserving of your affection and kindness.”
“You are my friend.” She smiled and held my hand a moment, then turned and said to Madame Bongnyeong, “Thank you for the exquisite reading. We enjoyed it immensely.” She raised her voice to the returning ladies and servants. “Aigu, but what a wonderful reading you missed!