이무기의 복 (Mourning Bride)

1. The Royal Wedding

King Hongjoong wore his gold-plated ceremonial robes to the wedding with the dragon. The silk was black, and the patterns on the sleeves contorted in the shapes of winding dragons. It was a special robe, not the one with the regular nine spiritual emblems, but one crafted in hours of skilled labour for this single day. In turn, the nine symbolic beads dangled from the king's crown. The multi-coloured jade pearls obscured his face as he had lowered his head. They swung with every tilt of chin and exposed glimpses of his youthful face to San's watchful eyes.

In his hands, covered by the wide brims of his sleeves, the king carried his jade tablet. It mirrored the one San held cradled in his claws, hidden by his crimson robes. No heavy headdress decorated his hair, for he was no queen. His antlers, mighty and branching into many small tips, were decorated in gold and jade Hongjoong had gifted to him. They jingled softly with the wind caressing the filigree links.

After weeks of complicated courting rituals, they had finally arrived in the palace. San had met Hongjoong for the first time today, and they exchanged no personal information before they had come here to get married. Before, they had written letters to each other, but they had been for show much more than transmitting honest feelings. Not that they mattered. San and the king of Joseon were tied to each other by fate. They would marry no matter their affection for each other and they would rule this country side by side.

San supposed he could be considered the queen now. Albeit being no woman and gaining a special status as a dragon who married the current royal ruler once every five hundred years, he had gone through the same rituals as a queen would. After descending from the Five Peaks, San's home, he had found his way to Hanyang, the mythical city of humans. San had been taught that his fate would fulfil itself there, and it had. As soon as he had arrived in the capital, people had recognised his extraordinary appearance, and they knew that the time had come for a dragon to bless their harvest again and to bring prosperity over the people. They had swept San away on their hands winged by delight.

Usually, a queen to be would spend well over two months in the detached palace, training to join the royal family. Letters and gifts would be exchanged, her family would be informed, and she would be coronated before the wedding. San went through the same process in two weeks. He needed no lengthy instruction, for the place by the king's side was fated to be his since the king had been born in this generation. Their letters had been hasty, the classes brief. San had no family to inform, so he got whirled through colourful fabrics, spiritual gems, song, and praise like a doll. Faster than he could settle in Hanyang and the delicacy of its cherry blossoms that framed the small houses huddled close to each other, the king's palanquin with the white goose on it already arrived at the detached palace. He had come in person when, usually, an official would do the task of the bride fetching.

It was the first time they met. The first time San got to learn that the king wasn't an old, wrinkly man with strict eyes and a grey beard. King Hongjoong was still soft with youth, and the face of a leader complimented his lean body. His hands had been gentle when they had cradled San's, uncaring of his horrendous appendages. His eyes, while kind, had been disengaged as he helped San into the palanquin for the procession.

The procession had been the most nauseating part about the wedding. They had travelled through the streets, accompanied by guards and servants as they greeted Hanyang's people. The euphoria on their features had been foreign. San didn't belong to them. He looked bizarre, had no family, had no job as they did. Yet, they blessed him for the favour he had yet to grant.

San hadn't understood the celebrative mood, but he also hadn't questioned it. By Hongjoong's side, he had waved at them and smiled at the kind old ladies and the bouncing children. For a moment, he felt like the spouse of their ruler.