The Great Palace of Moutan

The Past: Late Spring, 1461

The nine year old Crown Prince of Moutan held his sigh for the third time. Instead, he hid his agitation by swirling his brush into the ink, but this only served to draw the eyes of the old eunuch standing next to him.

After a moment, the old man gently cleared his throat.

Iseulbi hesitated, brush poised over paper. Before the ink could drip, he forced himself to write the characters. Moving his hand with decisive energy, he finished the phrase with a diligent flourish.

Was that enough? he wondered as he put the brush down.

The old man sighed.

Apparently not…

Iseulbi gave up the pretense and glared balefully at the old man.

“It seems you have something on your mind,” he observed, finally losing his patience.

“Your Highness’s Shadow…” began the old man, gingerly.

Iseulbi’s gaze grew sharp.

“Yes?”

“This old servant doesn’t know if he should speak or not…”

“Is it something that dire?” Iseulbi smiled blandly.

The old man harrumphed, lamenting that the Crown Prince had done his best to discard any qualities (other than his appearance) that marked him as a child. The cynical look that the prince leveled at him was a fully adult expression, trimmed of any petulance. He had only ever shown his true feelings to one person, and that person was currently recovering in the Chancellor’s mansion.

“Your Highness…the Shadow’s condition is improving. What I wanted to say is that your Highness need not hide your concern. This old servant knows that the guard is dear to you…therefore it is natural to—”

Iseubli’s chin came up as he interrupted, waffling between anger and despair that his servant was even bringing this up. Though his words were sharp, his tone was not:

“It is not befitting my status to have such wasteful emotions. There’s no need to trouble with me with such things in the future.”

The old man frowned with worry.

“Your Highness may punish this old servant…but this servant worries for your health! Supressing such feelings will make you ill…”

At that moment, the door to the study banged opened as a maid marched in without announcing herself or asking permission for entry. She didn’t even bow.

“It is time for his Highness to dress for Princess Yuna’s engagement banquet,” she said, hands on hips.

“Y-You!” hissed the old eunuch, trembling with anger. “How dare you speak to the Prince this way!”

Normally Iseulbi would not rise to the provocation of a maid sent from the Queen’s palace, but today his smile was full of ice shards.

“You’ve come at a good time!” he replied. “Someone! Drag the maid into the yard and beat her twenty times for not giving proper respect to the Crown Prince!”

The maid’s expression instantly changed as the East Palace servants rushed in.

“Drag her out” said Iseulbi, without blinking. “Now.”

“Your Highness, wait - !”

“Although you come from my Royal Mother’s palace, it would do good to be reminded that I am the Crown Prince of Moutan and the imperial rules still apply in the East Palace,” his voice lashed at her as he turned his back.

She continued to protest as they dragged her out, but he ignored it.

As the dull sound of batons hitting flesh began, Iseulbi ordered the old eunuch to close the window. 

How quickly the dark ugliness of this cage intrudes…

He shut his eyes, feeling a rush of disgust and anger, and took a calming breath to settle himself, but he could feel a tightness in his chest, lungs squeezing.

The old eunuch’s young charge rarely made a fuss in front of the Queen or her people and consequently even the servants had treated him poorly.

“Forgive me, your Highness. This old servants is useless.”

“They forget themselves…” the Crown Prince ground out. “Though the Queen takes an ambiguous attitude to me, I am still her son. I am still the owner of the East Palace.”

His hands fisted at his sides. 

The old eunuch pursed his lips, brows smashing together. It pained him to watch his young master like this. He wanted to say more, but the Prince also had his pride. Thinking better of it, he only said: “I will call someone to help you dress. This old servant takes leave.” With a last regretful look, he hurried toward the door.

“There will be a time when I grow up,” Iseulbi said to no one in particular. “It will not always be so.”

The old eunuch turned, a faint smile brightening his expression as he looked back.

“Indeed, your Highness,” he agreed, before closing the door.

***

Delayed five days due the assassination attempt on the Shoban Prince, the formal engagement banquet proceeded with due fanfare.  Following protocol, Iseulbi sat in the left seat just below the King on the tiered dais, while the Queen’s seat on the right remained empty as his mother had been feeling unwell. Prince Seiren of Shobu had been allowed the first seat on the left side of the banquet hall and Princess Yuna and her attendant sat across the way, facing him. The other consorts were deliberately absent since no one wanted to appear at a banquet that the Queen herself had refrained from attending, but this also made Yuna seem a bit pitiful since her own blood related mother had failed to appear on such an important occasion. Iseulbi could already tell that his father had a headache over it, but was hiding it well.

His father was currently speaking with the handsome Shoban prince and Iseulbi was surprised by how courteously he brushed off the attack and how smoothly he navigated the conversation. Gracious and charming, he appeared to be everything a prince should be.

Hmph! The rumours must be true that he does not take after that animal Hinode Seigen, Iseulbi thought. Or perhaps the Shobans remember the sting of the Peony sword and are only biding their time. They came for peace and trade…but Royal Father is still uneasy…as am I.

Seiren had stood from his seat to formally introduce himself to Iseulbi’s five year old sister, Princess Yuna. Her nanny was careful to ensure the child did not trip over the heavy silk brocade of her formal engagement robe as she made her way to the center of the hall.

Obviously, Yuna would not be sent to Shobu before she came of age, but the young man towering over her was still twelve years her senior. Iseulbi’s lip curled slightly at the thought. 

The Shoban Prince knelt down so that he was eye level with the young princess. They exchanged only a word or two as Yuna was far too young to understand much of what was happening around her. She could only regard him with wide eyes, but she dutifully handed him a handmade jade tassel at the prompting of her nanny. Seiren received it with what appeared to be a genuine smile and in return presented her with a comb inlaid with mother-of-pearl, set in a small ebony box. He then gallantly took her small hand to escort her back to her seat.

Hmmm, that was well done, Iseulbi thought, despite himself. He stood up so that he could greet the Shoban Prince and properly play his role as a welcoming brother-in-law. After some miscellaneous pleasantries, they moved down the banquet hall to receive the well wishes of various courtiers.

“…Please, I’d like to introduce some of my retinue…” said Seiren with a smile.

Iseulbi nodded and turned to a blue-eyed page with a shock of wheat coloured hair. 

Such a rare colour in the three kingdoms…this boy has the blood of Kazarus…

“Prince Iseulbi, this young fellow is my page, Pul,” said Seiren, smiling. “Besides myself, he was also saved by your courageous shinobi.”

That’s right…Iseulbi thought, fingers twitching reflexively as he remembered what Captain Moon had told him about the assassination attempt.

“Pul, was it? This Prince is glad to see that you are recovered from your fall. Does your shoulder still hurt?” asked Iseulbi politely. He noticed that the page’s eye colour was the exact same shade of sapphire blue as Prince Seiren’s. 

“A-A little, Your Highness,” Pul gulped, gawking.

Iseulbi thought the page had a bit of a strange expression. His eyes narrowed as he carefully evaluated the possible causes.

“If there is still pain, then I will call the Imperial physician for you. This Prince doesn’t wish for you to suffer during your stay in our palace,” said Iseulbi, tilting his head.

“That is very kind, Your Highness,” Prince Seiren nodded his head in gratitude.

Iseulbi detected a subtle shift in Prince Seiren’s expression.

“And you, your Highness? Are you well?” the page blurted.

Fear and surprise jolted down Iseulbi’s spine.

He’s seen A’Yan’s face! he realized, but he controlled his expression well. He turned to Seiren and laughed.

“Prince Seiren, your page is very kind-hearted. I see that he has heard about my occasional bouts of illness, but I am very well, as you see…but perhaps I should escort my little sister back to the inner palace,” he said with an apologetic gesture.

They all turned in the direction of Princess Yuna who was seated on the other side of the banquet hall. Iseulbi could see that she’d fallen asleep sitting up and was about to topple over.

Prince Seiren coughed to hide his amusement.

“Yes of course, this must have been an exhausting affair for her Highness…” he said diplomatically.

Iseulbi made his excuses to his father, almost rushing out. However, it was not his concern for Yuna that drove him.

What do I do now that they have seen A’Yan’s face? he groaned inwardly. He felt inexplicably angry.

No…I know why I’m angry…

Heading back to the East Palace, he stiffened as a familiar set of footsteps matched themselves to his. 

He walked on, ignoring it.

“Your Highness,” pleaded Feiyan. “Please…”