Past

“What are you women talking about?”

The ladies-in-waiting turned and scrambled onto their feet at the sight of those golden amber eyes. They quickly bowed to him, their Master’s son. They eyed each other, trying to pressure each other to answer for the group. But, in the end, no one gave in. One of them thought, “Great, we’re going to get punished again.”

Their Master didn’t like his questions unheard. His question unanswered was better than it was unheard. He chewed his cheek, calming himself from shouting at these ladies. In the end, these were ladies, and he respected them for being despite their lowly rankings. So he slowly asked with a painfully controlled voice, “I said: what are you girls talking about?”

Oops, that sounded a bit irritated. They won’t tell him anything unless he threatens them with death. He waited for a few more seconds. His presence was usually enough to extort any information he needed from these servants. His failure made him lose power, but he didn’t even get captured. He got out alive. Still, no one answered him. The ladies looked like statues with their bowed heads and bodies frozen.

“Oh, I guess no one is going to speak unless,” he unsheathed his sword, just enough to show the blade.

Upon seeing the shine, they realized it was the tool of death. The ladies dropped to their knees and bowed until they met the floor. (Thank the gods they cleaned the kitchen floor, or their foreheads would’ve been stained with grease.) The oldest of them kneeled forward and beseeched the man. She placed her palms together and rubbed them as fast* as she could, “Your Royal Highness, please spare us! I beg of you! We were just talking about---”

“Sheathe the sword, Your Royal Highness.”

The Prince recognized that sweet but manipulative voice. He smiled slyly and turned around to see his oldest sister, the firstborn Princess Sun-mi, approaching with her entourage, her husband and his entourage, and a few low-ranked officials. They all seemed surprised to see their Crown Prince mistreating some lowly kitchen maids…or was there another fault committed by the Royal Kitchen? (The Northern Royal Kitchen has been rumored to be messing up more recently. It was about time for them to be confronted but not by the Crown Prince. He should be worrying about something else, say, staying alive.)

“My younger brother, my dear Crown Prince,” his sister finally curtsied to him. The whole group behind her followed.

He felt disgusted each time his sister called him, younger and dear, but manages to always attach those words to him. He curtsied but did not sheathe his sword just to spite his sister and her husband, his own way of power play. He suddenly noticed the color of her dress*. It was predominately red and gold, colors reserved only for the Queen. Was that jade* in her hairpin? He smiled but thought, how shameless.

The Princess eyed the ladies then her brother. With careful and graceful movements, she walked to the ladies, passing the Crown Prince. How disrespectful. You are supposed to address the needs of the Crown Prince before anyone else’s*. She sent them away with a serene smile comparable to a goddess’s. The ladies thanked her, curtsied, and quickly left. The Crown Prince watched, seething.

The Princess sighed, “You don’t need to waste time on them, Your Royal Highness.”

He simply smiled, “You’re wearing a lovely color today.” He saw his sister smile, saw how perfect she looked but he knew what kind of person was behind that lovely camouflage*.

“It suits me, doesn’t it,” she ran her hand down her skirt displaying its’ softness, and had the audacity to turn around to show the design and color of it. She flashed that infuriating smile again, “What do you say, little brother?”

“It’s beautiful and is as red as blood. Who did you kill to wear those clothes?” he glared at his sister.

The Princess softly gasped. She turned her chin slightly to see who heard such disrespectful words from her younger brother. Just because she is a woman, does it mean she does not deserve the respect and adoration that older brothers get from their younger brothers? For the sake of the gods, some older brothers are garbage but their younger siblings admire them the same. Why was her brother’s treatment different?

Her entourage had lowered their head all this time but it didn’t mean they weren’t listening. Who was she kidding, trying to hide events like this? There wasn’t a thing called privacy in the palace, especially not them, the Royalties.

In the end, she smiled once more at her brother. Her brother thought her smile was rather preposterous. She didn’t mind. Instead, she exerted what little power she had over him.

“Come with me---“

“Who are you to---“

“Your elder. I was the firstborn, after all, and I cannot allow you to talk to me like that. Do you talk to our Father like that, to your teachers, to the seniority*? What will our adversaries say of the Crown Prince’s manners? Remember, the people* can always strip you of your precious crown especially if they don’t see that you are fit---”

“Princess, don’t lecture me---“

“And why can’t I? Are you ashamed,” she paused, “little brother?”

When she saw that frown on Yoshiro’s face, she knew that he had put him in place. Triumphantly, she commanded again, “Come with me.” She needn’t look behind her to see whether her younger brother was following, two steps behind her.

Yoshiro looked down in shame. He has always been the one to be followed, the one with servants walking steps away from him. To walk two steps behind anyone meant that the person succumbed to the one they were following’s will. To her. His face turned red with anger.

The firstborn Princess and Crown Prince of the North walked to the nearest red gazebo over a little pond near one of the smaller gardens, located all over the Northern Palace. Along the way, they passed by those women, loudly gasping and thanking the gods and the King for sparing them. The Crown Prince flashed his evil eye upon them, immediately silencing them. When he looked away, he felt pleased to hear those ladies begging the gods and their King to spare them. The firstborn Princess drew her breath sharply, and said nothing but would add this to the things she’d reprimand her brother for.

Below the gazebo, they stood upon was a little pond. It was filled with beautiful, colorful water-lilies---the kind of lilies that poets and painters painstakingly portray in their arts. The clear waters showed koi fishes with sizes ranging from small to gigantic; most were yellow and orange in color. The garden had green hedges all around, providing them privacy from their entourage and any passing eyes.

The firstborn Princess threw a piece of bread over the waters. She watched, quite pleased with the koi fishes, especially with the golden ones: each time they moved, their fins would shine like gold. When the morsel was gobbled up and the fishes dispersed, she pinched and threw off another.

“Your Royal Highness, you cannot be harsh on those ladies. Their only past time asides from taking care of us, the Royal Family, is gossiping about us. The eunuchs and soldiers do the same. We cannot stop that. Even if we try. Even our people outside the walls are always talking about us, regardless if we are being good or evil. They’re---“

Yoshiro had enough disturbances for today. He sighed then interjected, “Princess, please don’t lecture---“

His sister glared at him but her glare was too soft for him to feel threatened…or was he too insensitive to feel emotions?

Sun-mi chastised him, “I’m talking as your elder. Listen,” she left a large pause before continuing, “Yoshiro.” She spoke the name seriously.

There were shivers crawling down his spine. He was rarely called by his first name by anyone except his cousin Shang; he wasn’t almost comfortable hearing his own name spoken by anyone else. Like any other situation that threatened him, he kept his composure and pretended it didn’t bother him.

Convinced that she has persuaded her brother to listen to her, she continued, “People are always blaming and thanking us for anything that happens to them even if we have not caused it. It’s simply because we were born royalties, we were born with duties. That is what our birthmarks remind us, that we shall always bear the whims and desires and emotions of our people.”

He turned to his sister and simply curtsied, “You are right, Your Highness.” Those words left a bitter taste on his tongue. He had to say it. Just this time, just for show.

Sun-mi looked at him with her brown eyes. Those eyes seemed to be tinged with pain. She tried biting her lips so the words would not come out. It was too heavy to keep silent. She gulped, “Do you think I’m a burden, too?”*

He sighed her name. He knew where this conversation would be going.

“I wish I was born a male instead so I could protect you instead of the other way around.”

It led to this strange twisting, nauseating feeling in his stomach. He smelled the air now sprayed with guilt. What a repulsive smell. It silenced him. He refused to look at his sister but he wanted to scream, to throw a fit directed at her, hurt her. At the same time, he didn’t want to hurt her. She was still his blood.

“But do you know, you don’t always have to look after for me, Yoshiro. I’m the eldest sister. I’ll take care of our other siblings. You can go to war, knowing that our young sisters are in my safe hands. If there is anything else I can help you with, please tell me---“

“It was the flower ornament they were talking about. I know.”

Oh.

Sun-mi laughed, almost too inappropriately for a woman to do*, but he could hear another undertone. He watched as she picked up a piece of bread from the bowl, clenching it in her hands, and threw it into the pond.

She chuckled, “Please forgive me for that. I wasn’t able to get there in time to stop them.”

He felt confused about whether she was sincere or not. He glanced at her face then back on the koi again. Feeling sarcastic, he grinned, “Well, if I was able to forgive you for allowing Mother to die, then, this time, too, probably.”

Sun-mi’s eyes widened but a few moments later, she managed to laugh, her voice now leaking too loudly. She wasn’t amused by such sarcasm but laughed like it didn’t bother her. She shook her head and smiled as she sighed, “You’re always going to paint me in an evil light, always going to blame me. Always look at me like I had planned it all when all I wanted is to keep this family in the same status that we’ve always been,” she paused, “aren’t you?”

I have done nothing. I've done nothing, he could almost hear her say. Something tugged at him, something told him he was wrong but how can he be? He ignored whatever it was. He smiled indifferently and murmured, “Probably.”