Dream of Affection

Many believe that the emperor will never have a son, attributing this to my so-called curse—the vengeful curse of Consort Shim. Though unfair, it is a belief widely accepted, and I cannot change it. If, due to my supposed curse, he cannot father a son, then who will become the future ruler of this land?

There are various possibilities, but it is said that the emperor refuses to choose a side. One option would be to appoint one of his brothers to the position of Crown Prince, but I know he would never do so. It’s not just my knowledge—everyone knows it. The emperor was subjected to considerable scrutiny from his half-brothers during his time as Crown Prince.

This was because the former emperor, my father-in-law in reality, viewed him with suspicion. He favored the emperor’s half-brothers and distanced himself from his legitimate son. The emperor’s position was always tenuous. Given that history, he would never place a half-brother as the heir. He has no full-blooded siblings, so that option is off the table as well.

Another possibility would be adopting a child from a noble lineage, but bloodlines are sacred. Bringing in an heir from a different family poses risks that could create future problems. Blood ties are paramount, so this option is rarely considered. The most likely outcome, then, is a grandson.

In other words, Princess Yoo-eum’s child could become the Crown Prince. This is why Princess Yoo-eum holds such a crucial place in the power struggle. Growing up in the palace, the young princess knew exactly how valuable she was.

She wielded her power without restraint, and the palace servants were on edge around her. Thus, by the age of twelve, Princess Yoo-eum was an unruly princess who followed no etiquette, couldn’t do basic embroidery, and gave orders for whippings as easily as breathing.

What I couldn’t understand was why the Crown Prince—now the emperor in my dream—allowed such behavior. He was known for his strictness, so why was he so lenient with the princess? Of course, he eventually sent her to Naenggung in anger, but still…

Then again, if I think about it, this was a princess who tore down a sealed barrier, entered a place believed to house a vengeful spirit, and met her death there. She certainly had an untamed temperament.

A week into my time at Naenggung.

My days were busy. The time I spent sleeping grew longer, while my waking hours grew shorter. I felt as though I was devoting too much time to dreams. Yet, considering there was little to do when awake, the dream world seemed more productive, full of people and events.

The truth was, I was curious. I wanted to understand what these dreams were trying to convey and why the emperor in my dream had changed so drastically. Was he truly the same man I once knew? Over a week of dreams, I had only seen the emperor once—on the day I woke as Princess Yoo-eum, the day she returned from the dead. Despite his shock, he had been cold and rough, throwing me aside with no tenderness. Although he seemed surprised, it didn’t feel like the reaction of a father mourning a beloved child.

Why? He may not have had the best relationship with the princess, but she was still his daughter. Could he be a man who lacks affection for his children? I lived as his consort for three years but was unable to bear him a child. We spent two and a half years together out of those three, yet the palace started to whisper that I was barren.

The prince at the time was furious. He ordered anyone spreading such rumors in the Eastern Palace to be brought before him. A few maids were discovered to be behind the gossip and were punished and expelled. The prince’s rage was so fierce that no one dared to whisper about my supposed barrenness again.

He was indifferent to women. He was kind to me, but he had no interest in taking other concubines. His disinterest in women was so pronounced that the empress herself thought he might refuse to share a bed with me.

Unable to speak openly about such matters, I framed my words carefully, following proper etiquette, but the rumors spread nonetheless. Eventually, the prince heard them, laughed, and told me, “Let them think that. It suits us better,” saying it would be more convenient for him that way.

There were even rumors that he preferred men, but he paid no attention to them. “As long as it isn’t true, I don’t care,” he said, ignoring the gossip entirely. Meanwhile, I scolded the lower servants and kept things under wraps out of sheer worry.

Had he not wanted children at all? He was the Crown Prince, destined to become the future emperor, the guardian of the realm. Producing heirs to secure the imperial lineage and strengthen royal power was his duty.

I’d heard that some men instinctively dislike the idea of fatherhood, as if driven by an unexplainable aversion. Could that have been the case with him? But then, in this dream, he already had over twenty children. These conflicting thoughts left me confused, as if I were answering questions without clear answers.

Two weeks into my time at Naenggung, the emperor’s birthday celebration approached in my dream.

The Empress seemed particularly stressed as the birthday celebration neared.

Dreams reveal more the longer they last. I learned about the tension between the Empress and the Empress Dowager, as well as the current state of the Empress’s power. Living as Princess Yoo-eum, I found myself aligned with the Empress, inevitably concerned about her position.

The Empress’s power as the mistress of the palace was not as solid as it should have been.

Three strong female figures held sway in the harem.

First, there was the Empress herself, the official mistress of the harem. Then there was the Empress Dowager, mother of the emperor. The third was Consort Chae, the only woman to have ever given birth to a male child, though he was stillborn. Even so, the fact that she had carried a son set her apart, making her position exceptional. There were whispers that if a prince were ever born, it would be through Consort Chae.

Most believed the emperor would never have a son, but there was always the possibility, however slim.

Unlike the passionate and bold Empress, Consort Chae was said to be gentle and quiet. She was highly skilled in court etiquette, and it was rumored that the Empress Dowager favored her more than the Empress. Consort Chae often accompanied the Empress Dowager to the shrine, being devout and well-versed in sacred texts.

In contrast, the Empress disliked the shrine and was less knowledgeable in palace customs, which often led to friction with the Empress Dowager.

I knew the Empress Dowager well. She was my mother-in-law in reality, born noble and raised to be empress. She was strict about etiquette and had been severe with me when I was Crown Princess. Any small display of emotion or misstep was met with harsh reprimands. Knowing her temperament, it was easy to imagine how great her conflicts with the Empress must have been.

It seems that in the past, the Empress Dowager had been gradually taking care of the Empress’s duties, but this time, it was different. The Empress Dowager, citing health reasons, took the concubine with her and went on a trip to the separate palace, saying she would return on the day of the Emperor’s birthday celebration. The Empress, through the court ladies, learned the Empress Dowager’s intentions, and the result made me somewhat uncomfortable.

To summarize, it went like this: “Even the wild princess has perfected her manners, but how long will it be before her mother—who is also the queen—fails to learn proper manners and continues to wander? We can no longer tolerate this, so either she overcomes the obstacle herself or publicly displays her incompetence in front of the royal family and relatives, so that she may be thoroughly embarrassed and awaken!”

It seems that my manners made quite a deep impression on them. They probably thought that my perfection in manners came from surviving a near-death experience. So, I think they made this bold decision, hoping that the Empress would become a more perfect queen after facing a great crisis.

Of course, it was unfortunate for the Empress. She had very little knowledge about the Emperor’s birthday celebration. Whenever she came up with different plans, the Empress Dowager would sigh and correct everything, and that had been the usual course of events.

The Empress felt uncomfortable with the Empress Dowager’s behavior, but since the Empress Dowager wasn’t there, she seems to have had no choice but to feel uneasy. She repeatedly revised the plans for the celebration, often starting over again.

Those who understand etiquette well include the officials of the Ministry of Rites, the court ladies, and the eunuchs. The problem is that they all give slightly different advice. So, the Emperor’s birthday celebration is a grand event that must be organized in a way that takes everyone’s circumstances into account, ensuring it is enjoyable and without issues.

One must also be sensitive to rumors and recent trends within the royal family and relatives. You can’t seat people with poor relationships next to each other. If there are people who cannot drink alcohol, you should not serve them alcohol. Those who cannot drink for health reasons should be confirmed in advance, and tea should be served in place of alcohol.

If someone brings a concubine who is not their primary wife, you need to check if anyone objects to her sitting with the secondary wives. Food that certain individuals cannot eat should be appropriately removed only from their tables.

Those who might be called by the Emperor should be seated in a position where it is easy for them to leave. And, and, and… there are endless “ands” in a banquet, but the most important thing is to consider everyone’s situation. Not only that of the royal family and relatives, but also the communication and cooperation among all the officials in the inner and outer courts must be ensured.

However, the Empress does not seem to be particularly talented in this regard. One morning, when I, as the second princess, went to greet her, the Empress was disheveled, her hair was in a mess, and her eyes were unfocused, as if her spirit had left her.

“Mother!”

As I urgently called and approached her, she rose from her seat. It seemed she had been agonizing all night, as the area beneath her eyes was dark and swollen.

“Yoo-eum, my princess. I should hang myself and die before the Emperor’s birthday celebration comes…!”

It seemed as though she had lost her rationality. While I stood there, stunned and speechless, she began causing a commotion, demanding that someone bring her a silk string. It was an extremely chaotic morning in the Empress’s palace, Gonhui-jeon.