Confessions 02

“So what did you do, Kazuki?”

Kazuki barely got in the room, was only in the antechamber, and that was the first thing that was hurled at him. It felt similar to being thrown a book by his teachers, back in the mountains. But he was safe and anything else, he overthought. He gulped and walked cautiously deeper into the chamber. He continued walking until he was standing right before his father, who was sitting legs-stretched on a Chinese daybed. The man sipped wine from his cup[1] while his eyes stared intensely at his son. By that, Kazuki curtsied.

There was no response. His father simply placed his cup on the table in front of him.

Kazuki straightened and thought if it was alright to drag one of those chairs by the side, close to where his father was but he figured standing would be more polite especially if he’s going to get grilled. Yes, there was a question but he simply stood there as if he did not hear it.

His father poured wine into his cup, “I see. You refuse to tell me as well. So for Yeochun,” once his cup was filled, he slammed down the bottle[2] on the table.

The sound of the bottle slamming made Kazuki flinch. It echoed through the silent room and probably the whole building[3] as well. It may be an exaggeration, but for Kazuki at that moment, it seemed as though. He, as shameful as this sounds for a man, began to feel scared. Still, he stood his ground, pretending not to be afraid.

His father met him in the eye; Kazuki avoided it. His father downed his cup in one gulp and like he did the bottle, he slammed the cup as well. The sound of it induced the same fear in Kazuki but he suppressed his reaction this time. His heartbeats began to beat slower and his temperature began to drop yet still, the sides of his face began pouring sweat.

The man examined his son’s expression, trying to guilt the boy into confession but he was ultimately resolute. He had no other choice but to punish him under the pretense of losing Yeochun. He pointed to the side of the room. Kazuki’s eyes cautiously followed, his eyes walked upon the reddish-brown wooden floors of the room until he saw a white cloth spread on the floor, and upon that cloth were little crystals. At first, he wondered then it dawned onto him—salt[4].

“You know what to do, Kazuki. If you are going to act immature, you are going to get immature punishments."

There was a heavy sigh from the young man. He grimaced and dreaded kneeling on salt. Before he left the palace, he and Nobu have suffered far worse and intricate punishments while growing up but both of them dreaded the salt of all. It seems a simple punishment but soon enough the salt breaks the skin, makes it bleed, and scorches the flesh exposed.

His father saw his son’s reaction and raised his cup, “Or you can simply tell me the truth. Since you are old enough, I allow you to choose.”

Kazuki feared telling the truth more. He has heard the maxims about the truth, of how free it will make you but he has a good feeling it will only punish him more this time. He anticipated Nobu’s reactions but he won’t ever guess his father’s reactions right so he does not know what happens to him if he tells the truth. The price for treason is death and it remains the same with everyone regardless of rank or status.

He walked towards the cloth. He knew his father wouldn’t go easy on him, not after knowing that he helped the son of their enemy. As he stripped his outer clothing, he reflected on what he did. He shouldn’t have, damn it, he shouldn’t have but what use it was reflecting when the act was already committed and a life---that life was already saved! He left his inner kimono untouched, folded his other garments, placed them on the tablet nearest then lifted the ends of his clothes to expose his knees then knelt. He gulped as his knees scrapped against the salt.

“Well, then, Kazuki,” His father walked to him and held his chin upwards so he could look him in the eye, “the banquet will be in eight hours. By four to six, you will have to stand guard on the hall doors…or who knows, the officialization[6] of Yeochun might take longer. If by seven in the evening you can still stand, you can only enjoy the banquet. Are you sure about this?”

Damned crimson eyes and it is still the seventh hour of the day, Kazuki gulped but he had already answered and he isn’t the type to withdraw his words. He nodded dejectedly. His father let go of his chin and he quickly avoided the man’s eyes. He stared into the distance as he felt the salt dig deeper into his knees then a sharp pain, almost like a sword cut but tiny and annoying like an insect’s bite began to prick on his knees. He shut his eyes, it’s starting.

“By noon, there’ll be neither food nor water unless you give out a morsel of truth. Are you still sure about this?”

Kazuki had almost wanted to cry but he nodded, frantically moving his head as the salt sears his flesh. There were more and more sweat drops on the side of his face. His fingers began to grip the fabric of his kimono.

His father sighed, “Still defiant, I see. I wonder what that secret can be but remember, no matter how you’ll hide it, Kazuki, I’ll pry it out you.”

He ruffled Kazuki’s hair as if an attempt to apologize for punishing him, “Hopefully by noon, your hunger will make you see sense and make you tell the truth. I will be there to hear your confession…or perhaps, I’ll send Nobu in. Nobu might do a better job than me, is that what you think--"

"No, no, that's not what I think, Your Majesty." He shook his head repeatedly. The last thing he wanted to do was anger his father even more. But a question bothered him and he has to ask it. He drew a deep breath in, “Are you going to interrogate Miurio? You should know that she's innocent. She does not know anything--"

His father smiled and patted his head, “She’s out of this. You know me better than that, Kazuki. Besides, the truth must come out of you.”

That was assuring enough. Kazuki tried to smile but he was in pain so it did not look anything like a smile. But his face was sweating, so are his fingers, so are his knees. His whole body did. He had caught a whiff of a happy thought: perhaps, his sweat could melt the salt then his punishment would be over quickly but that never happened when he got punished before. It only made the pain more excruciating. Still, he hoped for miracles today.

“Well, then, Kazuki, I will see you at noon. Remember, it's still morning." His father walked to a window and stared outside. "The skies are still blue, and the sun looks like it has just risen. Should I ask you again?"

Kazuki bit his lips then shook his head.

"We sure have the same pride. It runs in the family, of course." His father looks at him, "Even if your eyecolor do not match the rest of the family's."

When his father left and the doors closed, he couldn't help but shed a tear. He looked at the salt underneath his knees; there's still a lot of them. And it's still long before his own blood or sweat--it does not matter--would melt the salt away. He can always get up since no one was watching him, but there was his pride as a Prince.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Though cup here isn’t the tall and round glasses you see today. Back then, as I have often seen in Korean K-drama and historical Chinese movies, their cup was made of porcelain and was small, almost like a saucer but could hold more volume. Their cup was placed on their palms and their thumbs would assist in holding the sides. Speaking of Chinese daybeds, the furniture doubles as a bed at night and couch in the morning. Well, it isn’t called a bed for no reason.

[2] Bottles back then were sometimes made of wood so it’s okay to slam it.

[3] In all of the Eastern castles I’ve studied (or tried to), I noticed that in their layout there’s always a separate building for the king, queen, banquet hall, throne room hall building, etc. so that tall castle Kazuki has seen in chapter two is just one of the many buildings but one of the major buildings in his home/castle.

[4] Now, that part is from my own culture. I have heard stories from my friends where they were punished kneeling on salt. Corporeal punishment like these still exists secretly today.

[5] Not a word but it felt right to use it for them.