With Sunbi, it was he, the Prince, who gave freely, openly, presenting her with gifts of jewelry and cloth that amazed her, awed her. He loved her simpleness, how she asked for nothing but delighted in everything. He liked watching her eat, sleep, laugh. He understood something new when he was with her, something he imagined most peasants must already know: that taking care of the woman you loved, generously, gracefully, was the pinnacle of human happiness. His usually anxious mind was calmed when he was with Sunbi. He could imagine having been born into another life outside of court.
For a time, the Prince righted himself. He gave up his strange reading, stopped wandering at night, only changed his clothes once or twice a day. He returned to his duties. His mother, Lady Sonhui, rejoiced, and even the King began to hear good things about the Prince. For the first time, the King invited Prince Sado on the annual visit to the hot baths in Kaesong.
The Prince was overjoyed. He had never been invited to Kaesong by the King, nor anywhere, despite being Prince Regent, though the Princesses often went along. Thus he had never experienced for himself the festive air of the King’s train and how the people lined up on either side of the road and waved their handkerchiefs and shouted “Long live Your Majesty!”
However, on the day they set off, a hard rain began to fall, not stopping for even a minute, drenching the entire retinue and making everyone miserable. Even the crowds who normally rushed the roads stayed away, causing the King’s mood to deteriorate. Halfway to Kaesong, King Yongjo called a halt to the procession and demanded that the Prince be sent back to the palace. He blamed Prince Sado for the inclement weather, saying every other time he had gone, the weather had been pleasant and warm. The Prince was understandably distraught. “There is no way I can go on living now,” he said.
Upon returning to the palace, the Prince consulted with his regular shamans, who read his face and his hands, tossed grains of sand. They told him what he feared and longed for most—the throne, and his father’s love. They only made his mind more unsteady, and when the King returned a few days later, chastened by the Dowager Mother for his thoughtless and superstitious actions against the Prince, he found the Prince’s private quarters in disarray, the Prince himself bewildered of mind and body. King Yongjo even thought he smelled wine in his rooms even though it was strictly forbidden in the palace. This was not the case, not yet, but the King was so angry, he slapped the Prince harshly across the face and declared that he would never be allowed outside the palace again.
After the Prince was forbidden from leaving the palace, we who lived with him could see the Prince had given up. He stopped trying to please the King altogether. He gave himself fully over to his own desires, playing more and more war games with the royal guards, and even disguising himself and leaving the palace to wander about the capital, consorting with prostitutes and unscrupulous men. He invited them to his residence, holding parties that lasted several days and nights, examples of debauchery that is still sickening to remember. But even that was not enough. Now he was truly turned and could find only one way to relieve his burdens.
The first time was an accident. He was sword-fighting with a royal soldier attached to guard him, a man whom he respected and who had taught him many maneuvers. They had been fighting for an hour in the full sun when the soldier, an older man, began to tire. He tripped on the root of a tree and as he fell, his sword tipped up and grazed the Prince’s arm, drawing a thin line of blood. At first the Prince laughed, then an evil look crossed his face and he fell upon the man and severed his neck. Everyone was quite shocked. Most of all the Prince. He recoiled and threw his sword aside. Then he turned and ran back to the palace. He tore off his clothes and demanded they be burned. We gathered up the soldier’s body and took it outside the palace. Nobody spoke of it again, and the soldier’s family was too fearful to complain. We knew that some terrible line had been crossed, and once crossed, the way back could not be found. The air grew heavy.
But some months passed with no further incident and we told ourselves that it was just an accident and that the Prince had reacted without thinking. Then one day, when he had put on and taken off twenty different robes, finally wearing only his underclothes, he asked for great quantities of wine to be brought to him. For ever since the King accused him of bringing wine into the palace, the Prince had begun to do so.
That night, a shaman who was drunk told the Prince that his life would end in a horrible manner, by suffocation. In a different mood, the Prince might have laughed it off, spared the man. But it had been a particularly bad day. The King had once again reduced the Prince’s household budget. So when the shaman spoke his thoughtless words, the Prince flared up with rage and called the shaman a fraud. Having realized his foolish, deadly error, the now sober man kneeled before the Prince, apologizing, rubbing his hands together, begging forgiveness. But
