Let’s imagine a world which was slightly different, slightly kinder in a way but crueller in others. A world in which one girl’s rebellion might have saved a country. And that girl was Yong-hi.
Yong-hi, who was a curious and inquisitive child. Yong-hi, who was brave and fearless, but too smart to run into danger without a thought. Well, at least most of the time. Okay, she tried to think before she leapt, at least. Usually. Sometimes her curiosity got the better of her, but that what planning on her feet was for.
Because, you see, her curiosity was a force to be reckoned with. While most people in her tribe were, or pretended to be, content with what they had and strongly discouraged any interaction with the world beyond their borders, Yong-hi was utterly bewitched by the unknown, downright eager for every scrap of knowledge she could get her hands on.
Mind as bright and curious as this one, she felt utterly stifled by the rules and borders of the enclosure she lived in.
One day, when the walls grew too oppressing, the atmosphere too stifling and distance between her and her clansmen too vast, she run away. Just to take the edge off her wanderlust, just to breathe freely for a little while. She disregarded the rules and sneaked away. She was nervous, yes, but excited all the same. She loved her people, she wasn’t planning to be gone forever, she just needed to see.
This small act broke the dam and soon whenever she started to feel like she was suffocating, she planned another trip, just a short one, just a few hours of respite. Soon there were weekly visits to a nearby town, then almost daily, but she still wanted more. Observing was no longer enough, she wanted to talk to people, to learn them, learn from them and make friends, so she did. Yong-hi talked to street rats and children from the slums, first. Even palpable curiosity and excitement didn’t manage to overcome her nervousness completely, and talking with other kids just seemed easier. Though they were wary at first, with time she managed to win them over with her cheerful energy (she might be a stranger, but she was also a kid like them, kid who was always alone, and knew useful things. And she shared her food). Slowly asking her to read aloud written notices turned into impromptu writing and history lessons. She taught them how to neatly mend their clothes, and even how to embroider small decorations when they found colourful thread scraps (she might have been from a small village, but her village was proud of their history and heritage, she was taught those skills as befitting a lady. As if the fact they were King’s descendants mattered, as if they weren’t supposed to live and die in isolation).
In return, street kids sneaked her bits and pieces of advice, who was nice around these parts, who to avoid, who would sell you stuff cheaper if you bargained just right, and who was a stingy git, alleyways and shortcuts useful when you needed to run away or hide. Yong-hi might have been sneaky enough to slip away unnoticed by her tribe, but she had nothing on the street kids, and so she learnt how to blend in and stay vigilant from them. And how to run away from trouble when she got noticed. She started talking and bargaining with merchants and anglers on behalf of her new friends (well, she did have better-kept clothing and didn’t look like a street rat, just a rambunctious child, so she was bound to be treated better than them), and it turned out she had a real knack for it.
Merchants and fishermen were terrible gossips, too, and knew so many new and interesting things.
When she decided she wanted to marry Yu-Hon, she made it so. The council tried to stop her, but she was determined and too stubborn to let go of her chance. She saw too much of the world, the council did not scare her anymore. So she used her stubbornness, smarts and cunning. And well, she was always curious and sneaky, she has heard some things her leaders would have preferred stayed secret and did not hesitate to threaten to reveal them to get her way.
This Yong-hi wasn’t a shy person, held back by her inexperience and doubt. She might not be raised to lead, but she was resourceful, smart, and determined. Yong-hi also brought to the table something the ruling family desperately needed – the common man’s perspective. She met people of all classes, she knew their struggles and the reality they lived in. She heard what was said at the markets, whispered in bars and quiet corners, which way the public opinion swayed, what they really thought of their ruling family.
And so, when Yu-Hon told her he wants a wife who he can rely on, he meant it and she listened. She shared with him her own opinions, knowledge she gained, her insight; she helped him see things from a different perspective. She argued with him, tempered his more drastic movements. He did not always agree with her, but he respected her mind and listened to her advice.
She loved her husband, but the palace did become stifling sometimes, so she never really stopped sneaking out to lower town. She met new people, made new friends and acquaintances, gained new debts and favours, made new contacts, and always kept her ear towards the ground. Life in the palace taught her that the ruling family could be woefully unaware how the country and common people are actually fairing, because they mostly interacted with upper class and advisors, and she didn’t want to lose her connection and awareness of common people, and so she put on her old clothes and sneaked out of the palace. Yong-hi was firmly of the opinion that reading briefs and listening to other’s accounts was not enough to fully grasp the situation, you had to be there, to talk to the people themselves to learn what ails them, what sympathies they do have, what they truly need and not what the report filtered through red tape tells you. Some things are kept from the prince’s ear, whether because of the politics involved, or because bringing something viewed as insignificant before the prince would be inappropriate.
So, she was perfectly aware of the priests searching for her tribe, kept herself updated on their progress, tried to discourage them and gently lead them astray, and when her efforts failed and they found it, she learnt of their success before Yu-hon did and managed to deescalate the situation before drastic measures could be taken. Yu-hon’s hatred and distrust towards the priests never abated, and steadily they lost much of their public regard, the massacre, however, has been avoided.
By bringing to the table a third, more balanced, perspective, and serving as a mediator she helped smooth over some of the conflict between the princes. Some differences, however, were irreconcilable, the animosity too deeply rooted, and so the tension still remained. When she saw how well their children got on together, she schemed to unite the families and satisfy Il’s ambitions in one fell swoop by marrying her son with Il’s daughter and end the feud that way (well, she knew the curse her bloodline carried. She wouldn’t be able to always be here to mediate between the brothers. She had to plan ahead.)
People looked at Crown Prince Soo-Won and praised his military prowess and understanding of the country's affairs even at such a young age. The common people adored him for his kindness, for he treated them with respect and inquired after their lives as if they were nobles themselves.
The crown prince has the strategic mind of his father, they said.
He's a credit to King Yu-Hon's parentage, they said.
Little did they know that what they praised wasn’t Yu-hon’s influence. It was Yong-hi’s.
