Emperor's Heir - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I woke to a sunbeam burning brightly in my eye. Squinting, I rubbed my forehead and stretched. As I did so, my hand hit a warm object lying against my side. I turned over to look, and there was Usan, curled up right beside me. He was sleeping soundly, his little fingers grasping tightly at the back of my robe. With a smile, I rose softly out of bed, being careful not to wake the boy and tucked the sheets back around him.

With a large yawn, I stepped outside on the veranda, feeling more refreshed than I had in weeks. As I looked across the small garden that I breathed in deeply the scented dew of morning.

“Are you excited for today, Your Highness?”

I spun around and found Nalda standing behind me, holding in her arms a glorious garment of red and gold.

“Forgot, didn’t you?” She chuckled as my eyes widened.

I shook my muddled head. “Forgot what? Am I supposed to wear that today?”

“Your Banquet.”

“Ohh …” I groaned and rubbed my forehead anxiously with the back palm of my hand.

Sensing my anxiousness, Nalda stepped closer and patted my shoulder. “You will do fine,” she reassured me.

“You’re not the one who has to act as if she has been a princess all her life in front of hundreds of people – most of them nobility,” I muttered, “they’ve been at this game for years. I, for only a couple weeks.”

Nalda frowned slightly. “You see this as a game?”

“In a way, yes,” I admitted.

“Why.”

I paused to think. “I’m not sure why,” I pondered slowly. “Here, it seems to be a lot of rules. If one knows those rules in and out, he wins. If one forgets … he loses.”

Nalda started to help me to dress. As she fitted a sleeve into my arm as I heard her sigh. “I’m glad you have learned that,” she said heavily, “But I’ve lived in this palace for years and I’ve learned many things. One piece of wisdom I pass on to you is this – the rules change.” She turned me around abruptly to face her. “Never forget this. The games played within these walls are dangerous. It is not the etiquette you should be worried about. It is the people. Just pick up a history book, and you will find princes and kings being killed in their beds by their closest friends. So, my child, please keep your wits together and trust no one.”

My knees began to shake.

“I’m sorry, child,” Nalda chuckled weakly, “I didn’t mean to startle you on your big day. I only wish you to be cautious.”

Understanding, I nodded silently.

Hair combed, plaited, and pinned, I stepped back into the bedchamber to check on Usan. He was sitting up and rubbing his eyes as I approached. His bright green eyes stared openly as I took a seat beside him.

“You are nervous.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” I admitted. “How did you know?”

“I can see it. It pulses around your body in gray waves … with a mix of dark orange. Why don’t you trust yourself?”

“Huh?”

“The orange – it represents self doubt,” he explained, “You shouldn’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

“Uh, thanks,” I replied, now confused but also strangely comforted.

“Here, bend your head,” the boy commanded as got up on his knees and reached for my forehead.

I lowered my head and Usan laid two cool fingers against my brow.

“Peace,” He whispered softly.

At once, a wave crashed over me and I felt all my nerves disappear, replaced with a calm the depth of the ocean.

Surprised, I gazed into Usan’s eyes. “Who are you?” I asked.

His cheeks dimpled as he smiled shyly.

“Your Highness.” Nalda peeked in. “You have to leave now or you will be late.”

I nodded to tell her I was coming before turning back to Usan. “Thank you,” I told him from my heart.

Usan gave me a little nod, his emerald eyes sparkling. “You will do well.” He spoke confidently.

His assurance comforted me and left me curious as to whether those words spoken were some kind of spell. Regardless, I was armed with new courage as I left the room. A bunch of maids were standing in straight line outside, all waiting to escort me to the hall. They all curtsied deeply as I passed by and then followed in my wake, trailing behind like a bunch of ribbons.

Recently, I had been paying visits to the Emperor every day at his request. As such I had finally become familiar with all the twists and turns that led to the great Hall. Lifting my head, I could make out the turrets of the palace, and my blood pulsed ever quicker through my veins as we grew closer with every step.

Reaching the top of the stairs and before large oaken doors, I waited to be announced. Whatever Usan had done to me was working, because when those heavy doors opened, I walked in calmly with my head held high into a room full of people.

Heads turned as I entered. Courtiers and officials hushed their speeches, their fake smiles replaced with arched looks. Maids and servants paused in their preparations; trays of drink poised in their hands. Even the guards peered curiously at me from their posts. And at the head of the grand hall, on a large golden throne, sat the Emperor.

Steadily, I walked through the crowd, ignoring the peering eyes, till I reached the end of the hall and came to the stairs at the foot of His Majesty. I gave my best, deepest bow, sinking to my knees till my skirts pooled in little mounds about me. The Emperor smiled, pleased, and beckoned me to sit on the little throne that stood next to him at his right hand.

I hesitated, surprised, and not certain what to do. Lady Moon-sol had not instructed me on how to behave when invited to sit directly beside His Majesty. The hall became deathly quiet as everyone held his breath. It suddenly was impressed upon me that this was a great honor, one that might alter the course of the rest of my life.

Slowly, I walked up those stairs, being careful on to trod on my gown and fall in front of everyone. Once face to face with my Father, I was struck with a violent impulse to kiss his hand. His eyes were so soft and kind. So, I did. Then I sat.

Now facing the crowd, I saw people turn towards one another in uncertainty. Then, slowly – one by one, row by row – everyone bowed. They bowed so deeply, that they resembled the blades of grass in a field bent beneath a heavy wind.

I turned to look at the Emperor, a frown of confusion plastered across my face. He smiled, his eyes beaming with assurance.

“You’ve just confirmed by your actions that you are my own flesh and blood. That you are my daughter,” he told me proudly. “You are now my heir.”

At that moment the doors opened and shafts of strong, bright light flooded into the darkened hall. All heads turned as the silhouette of a tall, graceful woman stepped through, beams of sun radiating all about her. The doors closed and there stood Princess Pulsa, glowing in her dazzling silk robes of pink and silver.

She approached the stairs and bowed, low and deep. The Emperor motioned her to join us. My cousin gave me a secret smile before walking over to take the seat at His Majesty’s left. She sat with such a regal air that I felt compelled to follow her example and arched my back even straighter.

Now a courtier stepped forward and, pulling out a thick, paper parchment, began reading aloud a royal proclamation, officially declaring that the Princess Forsythia, the Emperor’s long-lost daughter, found and the cause for this celebration banquet. The courtier ended by announcing that all should pay their respects.

A man immediately stepped forward. I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but from where I sat, I could tell that he was tall and walked with purpose. He bowed at the foot of the stairs, before climbing up them towards us. Once before me, the man bowed again.

“Prince Bada – Second-born son of the King Gumeong, ruler of Baesinja,” the courtier announced.

The prince looked up. He was pale. Very pale, as if his skin had never felt the warmth of the sun. But his eyes were dark, like deep pools from within a hollow cave. I shivered as his gaze slowly bore into mine. For some reason, the sight of him made me angry. As I clenched my fists, I thought I caught the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of the prince’s mouth.

“A pleasure, Your Highness,” he whispered in a low, slick voice.

I gave the Prince as gracious a nod as I could manage. Then I had to hide my frown when he caught sight of my scar and eyed it brazenly. I coughed a little, causing the Prince to break his gaze. An amused look spread across his chiseled face and he gave me another slow smile. He bowed once more and, to my relief, left to make way for another. I immediately forgot all about him when I saw who had taken his place.

“Prince Iyagi – Ruler of Yosae, first born son of the late King Taeyang.”

This prince’s eyes twinkled at me merrily before bowing. I smiled and then felt my cheeks burn when he reached forward, grabbed my hand and kissed it. Quickly, I yanked my hand away. But that did not seem to offend Prince Iyagi. Instead, he seemed to take pleasure in having taken away my composure. His mouth was pressed in a firm line, as if to keep from laughing. Trying to maintain a degree of gravity, I glared back. The Prince only winked before waltzing off, his shoulders heaving with a silent chuckle.

Afterwards everything blurred into an afternoon of niceties and social discomfort. Lords and ladies – courtier after courtier – servants of elevated rank, all gave their honor and respect by approaching me. By the time an hour had passed, I was in great pain. My back was sore from straining to keep my posture; my neck had developed a hard, twisted knot from nodding so frequently; my brow was forming beads of sweat from the heated room.

And the chair was without a cushion.

But no more princes. I had met the two most legendary in the Empire. I had grown up listening to stories of how they lived in the palace since they were very small boys. It had been arranged to keep peace and loyalty between the Emperor and the two kings. As such, the princes had become near sons to His Majesty and had often rivaled against one another, trying to win over his favor. As they grew older, their feats grew also. The princes would ride often into battle, conquering enemy territory, which was then joined to their respective kingdoms as reward for their heroic efforts. Thus, the kingdoms grew and the entire Empire prospered.

But Yosae remained larger and richer in resources.

I turned to look at Prince Iyagi. He was tall, but slight of figure. Perhaps that was due to the flowing garments he wore. But clothes could not hide the fact that he possessed the grace of a queen. He moved effortlessly, like a blade of grass in the wind. Also, I had noticed that when Prince Iyagi had taken my hand, his own was not rough as expected of one who had seen so much combat. There were no calluses etched into his skin from years of sword practice. Instead, his hands were soft and smooth.

I watched Prince Iyagi laugh at something that Prince Bada had said. Even his laugh was flowery. I found it hard to picture that prince leading an army of soldiers, ready to face blood and gore. Yet, the size of Yosae proved that he had often seen battle. And had gained many a victory. Still . . .

Suddenly, I felt a chill shiver its way down my spine. Years of life in the streets had given me a strange sense. My other five, having been sharpened, aided my sixth.

Someone was watching me.

I looked about slowly and without haste, trying to maintain an air of disinterest. My eyes roved over the crowds of people mingling in their minute groups, my neck leisurely turning by inches in the direction towards the heat of someone’s gaze. Then our eyes met.

There stood a man of Prince Iyagi’s height, but broad-shouldered and strong. He wore a sleeveless long vest over his clothes, the kind that only soldiers of singular rank could wear. A band of dark cloth ran across the man’s forehead, tied at the back of his head. The band had the symbol of Yosae sown on it. A sword hung from the man’s belt.

Prince Iyagi approached him and clamped him on the back. The man broke our eye contact, as he smiled when the Prince whispered in his ear before pulling back in laughter. Then, I caught sight of a glint of a silver medal hanging from a black cord at his belt. A personal guard.

I shouldn’t have continued to stare. But something plagued my mind. The guard’s eyes.

They were familiar.

As if I had seen them before, long ago, looking back at me – a friend’s, or a close companion’s. They were the same color as mine too. Deep and dark as chocolate. Many thoughts struggled inside my head as I fought to recall memories of my past, trying to remember. But I was met with nothing. Nothing but a pool of emptiness filled with cold, black water.

I risked another glance. But he and the Prince were already gone. I spun in my chair quickly, searching for them both. As I did so, I realized that the hall was thinning considerably of people. Everyone was leaving to partake of the banquet that was being held in specified rooms, each according to his rank. The hours had seemed to pass by so slowly, that I had not been aware of the sun setting in the horizon. Torches were already being lit and the doors to the hall were being opened. A fresh breeze wafted in and blew through my hair, its breath cooling me as it fell upon my hot skin.

The Emperor stood. Pulsa did and I also, a second after. Together, we left the great Hall and walked down a stretch of corridors till we reached another compartment of buildings. Then we were standing in front of a set of doors, the windows glowing as candlelight shone through their paper shades. Rich smells and laughter came from within. The clinking of china cups could be heard as toasts were hailed before demands for more wine soon followed.

The servants announced us and the doors opened. The din died down as the Emperor stepped into the room and everyone stood to bow.

He smiled and nodded for them to sit back down before walking around the set of tables to sit at the head. Pulsa and I followed close behind. Pulsa, however, stopped suddenly when a lady beckoned to her. She then graciously took the seat that the woman had eagerly gestured beside her. I hesitated, not sure where to sit. Pulsa saw my unease and moved to make room for me. But just then the Emperor raised a hand. The room fell silent.

“The Princess Forsythia sits beside Me,” he declared, while beckoning me to his side. Servants came to life as they nervously bustled to ready a place beside His Majesty. From my lessons with Lady Moon-sol, I knew that the head table was for the Emperor only. No one else was to sit by his side at a meal. To be invited to eat with him was a great honor. An honor reserved only for the Empress.

I bowed slowly, preparing to refuse.

“Won’t you eat with me?” My Father’s voice was tender and beseeching.

He waited patiently for my answer. Slowly, I gave the Emperor a tiny nod of my head before joining him. while sitting down, I glanced over at Pulsa. To my surprise, a strange look had clouded over her perfect face and she was glaring severely down at her plate.

Then, a servant approached and placed my own plate of food in front of me, causing my thoughts to be pulled away from Pulsa and directed to the feast that met my eyes. My mouth began to water as I stared.

The Emperor chuckled deeply. “You may eat.”

I blushed a little as I did what he suggested. Throughout the night rich flavors filled my mouth as I tasted slices of meat swimming in sauce, crispy buns of golden brown, spiced wine, and many sweet delicacies that fulfilled any child’s wildest dreams.

“You like your sweets,” the Emperor observed as I reached forward to put another cream-filled dumpling onto my plate.

I grinned unabashedly. “Yes. Grandma always said I had too much of a sweet-tooth. I was just like Grandpa.”

His face grew concerned. “How are they?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Your Grandparents. You visited them a couple days ago,” the Emperor reminded me, “I was wondering if they found their new living quarters comfortable.”

“I’m not sure,” I confessed, “I wasn’t able to see them.”

The Emperor turned to look at me, his face puzzled and confused.

“There was a … bit of an interruption taking place in the town square when I arrived,” I said, hesitating on how much I should tell.

“Were you hurt?” The Emperor’s voice was laced with worry.

“No, no,” I hastily reassured him. “But someone else was. A boy – five years old and with no home or family. I brought him back with me.” I glanced up, anxiously hoping that I had done the right thing.

“Good,” Father replied, “we must protect those who cannot defend themselves.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief, “I’m glad you think so too.”

Soon I was telling him more and more. I found myself talking about my life in the Capitol. Of the times I would come home muddy and bruised as a child, and how Grandma would scold while Grandpa would stand beside her, agreeing with every word, but then secretly ruffling my hair when he passed by.

“How did you get dirty so frequently?” The Emperor asked with an amused chuckle.

“Uh, there weren’t many girls my age to play with,” I said, twisting the end of my braid around my finger, “I played rather roughly with the other boys.”

“Ah!” He hummed to himself. “So that hadn’t changed.”

That remark puzzled me and I was about to ask the Emperor what he meant, when Pulsa’s name was suddenly hailed. Someone called out, begging the princess to entertain them with a dance. The call was seconded by many others, and soon, everyone took up with request in a chant.

I looked over at Pulsa. Her eyes were cast down modestly and she giggled bashfully while shaking her head. But the pleading continued, and after a bit of urging, she stood up reluctantly with a smile.

Everyone cheered as servants came into the room and removed the tables. Musicians appeared and readied their instruments. Pulsa stepped over to the middle of the room and, lifting her skirts ever-so-slightly, poised her foot, hovering it an inch above the floor. Then, the music started and she began to dance.

With the first twirl, the entire room was enchanted. Like a cherry blossom, she fluttered and floated about as if carried on a gentle breeze. A tree sprite could not have been more graceful. Feeling in the haze of a sweet dream, I let myself drift away with the music as I watched the princess glide across the floor. It seemed all too soon when the Princess lowered herself to the floor, her skirts settling like petals about her as the music ended softly.

The room itself echoed a sigh before everyone burst out in rapturous applause. Pulsa lifted her head and rose with a satisfied smile before taking her seat as praises were thrown heavily her way from every corner of the room.

Then a voice called out, “A dance from Princess Forsythia!”

My head jerked upright with a sharp jolt in the speaker’s direction. It was Prince Iyagi. He raised a glass, in toast to me. “Entertain us, Your Highness,” he implored with a big grin.

“Oh no!” I cried back. “You do not want this evening spoilt.”

But he ignored me and continued to plead, soon joined by many others delighted with the idea. Hoping for a way out, I turned to the Emperor pleadingly. But even my Father had taken up the chant.

Muffling a groan, I stood and walked to the middle of the room. But once there – I froze.

The musicians started to play and notes filled the room. Still, I couldn’t budge, but stared stupidly down at my feet. Then, I heard Grandpa’s voice and remembered something that he had once said.

He had been teaching me some forms and admonishing me on how I was moving too aggressively. “Even in a real fight, one is never attacking,” he’d said. “A true warrior is only dancing to the music of his soul. Every movement must be smooth and gentle as coming from the peace within.”

I held up my hand abruptly. The music stopped and silence settled.

“Can I have a sword?” I asked, my voice echoing loudly in the hushed room.

I heard a step behind me. Turning, I saw that it was Prince Iyagi’s personal guard. The man knelt on one knee and stretched out his arms, his sword held out to me in both hands. I reached out to take it.

“Thank you,” I said to him as I grabbed the blade. The man looked up and, once again, I was struck with the feeling that I should know him. He gave me a soft smile which made the corners of his eyes crinkle, before stepping back into the shadows.

I unsheathed the blade and swung it about me in a clean, swift motion. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

Slowly, the walls of the hall faded away and I saw a night sky filled with stars. My feet no longer stood on marble floor, but felt soft grass, cool and damp with midnight dew. A breeze whistled through my hair.

Eyes still closed, I started to move slowly, the blade cutting through the air. I joined and combined any martial form that came to me as a melody started to play, harmonizing with my ever move. Letting it take hold, I drifted away, till I was coasting amongst thousands of stars as I danced to the music that pulsed within me.

After a time, the music faded and I floated back to earth. I opened my eyes and saw people crouched beneath pillows, shawls, and even each other. I looked down at the sword in my hand, but not a speck dirtied its blade. Curious, I touched it with the tip of my finger. Immediately, the sharp blade cut through my skin, making my finger bleed.

Suddenly, the whole room cast away their cushions and stood in ovation. Smiles grew on each face as everyone stared at me, amazement and wonder etched into their eyes.

But there was only one person I desired to please in that room. The cheers faded away as I turned to gaze at the Emperor.

His face was beaming with pride.