I am a gift, a tribute, a token given to a man known throughout my homeland to be a king most cruel and unjust. He wages wars without cause, kills without mercy, and anyone who steps foot inside his borders are never seen again.
Such has been the f...
Four men, four of the strongest soldiers that guard the traveling paths of nobles journeying from my home kingdom of Gangsaeng now protect me. They bear the weight of my palanquin, while the silk brocade fabric covering it shields me from both the sun and the eyes of unworthy men alike. I am to remain shrouded in mystery with not a single eye soiling my purity until I have been delivered to the one receiving me. I, a mere citizen of Gangsaeng chosen for my curse of beauty, have been selected to be a part of a solemn ritual.
I am a gift.
Long ago, after a brutal war spanning an entire year, Daegu, our neighboring kingdom, has vowed peace and prosperity for Gangsaeng after our crippling defeat. Having a larger army and many war-seasoned generals, our neighbor toyed with our lives for months before delivering the final blow. Countless lives were lost, their blood spilling on the city streets as the buildings and crops surrounding them burned to the ground. Families, broken and displaced, had the burden of famine added to their struggles, and eventually their cries reached the ears of the king of Gangsaeng. The price of his goal of escaping the oppression that Daegu imposed upon us was too great a debt to pay with the lives of his people, and he abdicated the throne. With the war over, the previous king of Daegu graciously allowed us to remain independent, but on two conditions:
That our kingdom pays taxes in retribution for starting the war; And that Gangsaeng bestow a yearly gift to the current king to commemorate his birth and greatness.
I am this year's offering to him. A gift bestowed to his Royal Highness, King of Daegu.
I feel the bump of my palanquin gently touching the ground and my already racing heart beats faster. Harsh sunlight enters my small quarters as the guards pull back the curtains, their eyes cast downward. I finally step out after a long yet uneventful journey. Ornate slippers that I could only dream of wearing touch hostile ground, and soon my crimson gown covers them. Hands clasp together just below my chest as I was trained to do, I begin another journey toward the awaiting man flanked by Gangsaeng guards. Silently I pray that this journey will not prove to be a perilous one, although my fate is already clear.
The jeweled ornaments in my hair click against each other as I lower to my knees before him. Placing my palms upon the ground and folding my body forward with every ounce of grace ingrained within my being, I remain silent as my presence is announced.
"Greetings, your Royal Highness. The kingdom of Gangsaeng wishes you prosperity and an ever-flourishing kingdom for generations to come. Please accept this gift to celebrate your birth, and to further solidify the time of peace between our two kingdoms."
With a slight nod of the king's head, a high court official beside him speaks in his stead.
"The king accepts your most gracious gift. Please extend our thanks to the king of Gangsaeng."
With two sentences, the transaction is complete. I rise to my feet and again clasp my hands together, keeping my eyes lowered. I have yet to see his face, a luxury that will soon end.
"I will without fail," my guard says, saluting the cursed king the same way he does mine. "Long live the king of Daegu. May the heavens continue to smile upon your reign."
Picking up my palanquin, my only allies in these dangerous lands retreat.
Alone, I resume my walk toward the throne, doing my best to ignore the soldiers dressed in gold and black armor outlining the perimeter of the courtyard we occupy, as well as curious palace inhabitants lurking around the outskirts. They talk amongst themselves, hands covering their mouths as they speak, their eyes burning straight through my body as they stare. Finally reaching the raised platform that his throne sits upon, I kneel again.
"She is a gorgeous flower, isn't she," the court official says, his head tilted in appreciation.
The king doesn't verbally respond to the remark. Hardened eyes pierce through my soul as he regards me with indifference, his temple resting against a slender finger. He looks to be bored with this ritual, and I am not sure if I should be relieved or offended.
"She is beautiful, indeed," the king finally concurs. "I will very much enjoy sleeping with her tonight."
Offended it is. My face remains stoic despite my bristling hatred. It is imperative that I not give away my true sentiments.
To free my home from oppression, I, Kang Yejin, have been charged with a mission appointed by the king of Gangsaeng himself, King Hwang Jaeha:
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