And even apart from that, Hui-seo was not the sort who could flatter strangers with an easy tongue.
Swallowing the words that rose to his Adam's apple, Hui-seo lowered his head.
Better to take the beating first — part of him wished the carriage would hurry, part of him wished it would slow… even as his heart changed moment by moment, the carriage raced on relentlessly.
As he repeated the cycle of his thoughts welling up and emptying out, the carriage, which had been running without check, gradually slowed.
The eunuch, who had sat motionless, opened the window and showed his pass to the other side.
"……"
Instinctively, he sensed they had arrived at the palace. His mouth went dry, and Hui-seo swallowed hard.
The tension he had tried somehow to shake off rose to the tip of his throat. If he so much as breathed, his heart felt as if it would leap out.
"You must go on foot from here."
The carriage door opened. The eunuch alighted first, and Hui-seo followed. The palace gate was only a gate, yet it felt solemn.
Dazed, he stepped inside. High grayish-white walls carved with the ten symbols of longevity, stone sculptures — an endlessly stretching smooth avenue greeted him.
It gave a strange sense of pressure, but even marveling at it was a luxury. Hui-seo followed the eunuch, who walked gracefully without a falter, with no destination in mind.
Now and then people in the same dress as the eunuch passed by, or women passed by.
Their gazes rested on Hui-seo for the briefest instant, then — as though it had never happened — they straightened their heads and went on their way. Even a moment's wavering was held in check.
This — this is the palace.
Anew, it sank in where he was standing. And who he would face at the end of this road.
He wanted to turn on his heel this very instant. Even knowing what it would bring. Of course, whether he had the nerve to actually do it — he did not.
Even as he failed to get his bearings, Hui-seo quietly trailed the eunuch, his hands clenched tight. His nails dug painfully into his palms. He only desperately wished that this dull, lingering ache would scatter his nerves.
"Your Highness. I have brought Young Master Woo."
They passed through the tall gate crowned with lapis-hued tiles carved in dancheong patterns, and he walked the corridor lit with paper lanterns.
Eunuch Won raised his voice before the paper doors and announced him.
Hui-seo stared at the door, from which no answer came.
His heart pounded. He glanced sideways, half afraid the thumping might be heard — but the attendants stood quietly on either side of the door, their gazes lowered.
Throughout the palace everyone had seemed orderly, but if one were to name the most orderly of all, it was the Eastern Palace.
On the way here he had now and then felt glances stealing toward him, but once inside, such looks were nowhere to be found.
Not a single soul was out of place.
As though such a thing were not permitted them.
"……"
As he kept pressing his ever-drying lips together, the paper doors opened. The doors opening, layer upon layer, looked just like a flower bud blooming.
Do go in. The eunuch spoke with his eyes, and Hui-seo, holding his breath, stepped hesitantly inside, as if pushed from behind.
With each inner door he crossed, the faint scent of incense and the smell of still-wet ink grew stronger. And at the end of them — the Crown Prince.
Hui-seo flinched to see him with his eyes still on his book despite having heard him enter, then soon folded his hands neatly and bowed low.
"…This lowly one, Woo Hui-seo, greets His Highness the Crown Prince."
Knees touched the floor, and then his forehead. At least, bowed like this and freed from every gaze, he could catch his breath.
"Rise."
How long had he stayed so? Permission to rise was granted.
Thinking it would be no bad thing to stay as he was, Hui-seo hesitated a moment, then set his reluctance aside and straightened.
The Crown Prince, who had been looking at his book, had by now turned his gaze toward Hui-seo.
"Your grace is boundless, Your Highness."
"Oh my. Won't you call me 'Wi-rang' anymore?"
A voice holding a faint smile fluttered, tickling his ears. Hui-seo, recalling once more the impertinent thing he had done, squeezed his eyes shut.
"At the time I failed to recognize Your Highness and committed a grave discourtesy…."
'Had I known, I would never have done such an irreverent thing' — the words rose to the tip of his throat, only to be swallowed straight back down.
"I did not summon you here to scold you. No need to tremble with such a frightened face."
"If you say so…."
"Did I not tell you then? That you are the younger brother whom my teacher cherishes so dearly — and that I, too, mean to hold you in the highest regard."
Ah.
Belatedly recalling that he had said such a thing, Hui-seo let out a short groan.
"It suddenly occurred to me that you might be lonely, with my teacher staying at the Sangseo-bu now."
"I am overwhelmed, Your Highness."
"Yes. You weren't startled, my sending a eunuch for you so suddenly?"
"That is…."
Unable to confirm or deny, Hui-seo only hemmed and hawed.
"Your nature — unable to hold a lie in your mouth — takes very much after your teacher, it seems."
"…Forgive me."
Watching the hesitant Hui-seo, the Crown Prince curved his lips crookedly and smiled.
"In any case, even if you had said you would not come, I would have fully understood."
"How can you say such a thing? To be summoned by you is the honor of a lifetime."
Hui-seo's eyes wavered. This was the summons of the most exalted being. The option of not coming had never existed in the first place.
"Irang, hearing you say that puts my heart at ease."
"It was from the heart…."
Mumbling his words, Hui-seo sniffled.
Today was the third time he had faced the Crown Prince. Beneath it all there always lay an unconcealable arrogance, but apart from that he seemed a different person each time they met — which felt somehow strange.
The Crown Prince who had saved him in his distress was utterly inscrutable.
When he brushed the blood away he had looked indifferent; standing under the moonlight he had seemed not of this world and left Hui-seo breathless; yet seeing his broad, unwavering back had set his heart at ease.
Back at the Sangseo-bu, when he had known him only as 'Hyeon-wi,' he had not realized.
At times he would gaze down at Hui-seo with strange eyes; at times he observed every courtesy; at times he seemed to draw a line. In truth he put on the airs of spring, but he was closer to spring's chill.
And today's Crown Prince….
"Fond of white tea, by any chance?"
He was kind.
Not the spring chill — simply like spring itself.
The more Hui-seo came to know him, the less he could fathom him — as though he were a being from an unknown world.
Was that why.
He could not take his eyes off him.
"Irang?"
Hui-seo, who had been trying to gauge the unfathomable man, came to himself at the sound of his name and was left dumbfounded. To lose himself in thought before the Crown Prince — even he thought he must be out of his mind.
"Yes? Yes. I like it, Your Highness."
Hui-seo answered before any more time passed.
"Good. Some precious tea leaves have just arrived."
Instead of reproaching Hui-seo for his late answer, the Crown Prince gestured to the attendant standing by. Behind him, a door quietly opened and closed.
Before long, a tea set was laid between them.
"I'll do it."
Waving off the attendant who had reached out to brew the tea, the Crown Prince lifted the teapot himself. Unlike the attendant, who withdrew meekly, Hui-seo hesitated in bewilderment.
"Y-Your Highness…."
As his helpless hands wandered the air, the Crown Prince performed the tea rite with elegant, measured grace.
Warming the cups, putting the prepared leaves into the pot, pouring in the water, steeping, then discarding — every movement was flawless, without a wasted gesture, like a scene from a manual.
"Here."
As the pale-brewed tea was poured into the lidded bowl, Hui-seo accepted it awkwardly.
He had taken it because it was offered, but — tea brewed by the Crown Prince himself! He was overwhelmed beyond bearing.
"Boundless grace."
Fiddling with the warm lidded bowl cradled in both hands, he discreetly took a sip.
The first thing he noticed was a faint floral scent hovering at the tip of his nose. Next came a taste that went down clean and smooth.
Hui-seo, who had been at a loss as though sitting on thorns, opened his eyes round.
Tea leaves presented as tribute to the Crown Prince — of course they would be fine — but they truly lived up to the boast that good leaves had arrived.
"How is it?"
"The aroma is wonderful. The color is clear, and… the finish is subtly sweet."
"Is that so? I didn't know Irang knew enough of tea to notice even the sweetness in the finish."
He had only said it because, taking another sip, he thought he detected a faint sweetness — yet the Crown Prince marveled as though quite surprised. At the sudden praise, his earlobes flushed red.
"…You flatter me."
"'Twas only imitating what I picked up watching my brother enjoy tea with our grandfather," he said carefully, making an honest confession.
"My teacher does have a discerning eye for tea. Now that I look, the way you hold the cup, the way you drink — it's similar."
Wasn't how one holds a teacup all much the same? Hui-seo tilted his head inwardly, then soon understood.
Hui-won served in the Crown Prince's household as one of his teachers. They must have shared tea many times over the years — no wonder the teacher's manner, which he had observed, and his own looked much alike.
And apart from drawing, most everything about Hui-seo had its origin in his brother, so it was nothing strange.
Before Hui-won went up to Sangyang, he had kept their grandfather company in his pastime, and Hui-seo had learned by watching his brother over his shoulder.
If he became like his brother, then perhaps their grandfather — who had been filling the void he left — would look his way, even a little. That was the thought.
"…."
Thinking of it now, it seemed a futile effort.
"Then the teacher's first disciple is not I but Irang. Does that make Irang my senior?"
Hui-seo, who had been wondering how to shake off the bitterness swirling at his feet, was left stunned by the Crown Prince's words.
Senior disciple — and the Crown Prince's senior at that! It was utterly absurd.
"What else did you learn from Munhak?"
Hui-seo, who had been about to say that such words were unbecoming even in jest, missed his chance to object at the question that followed.
Instead, at the Crown Prince's question, he looked around without realizing it. Then his gaze lingered briefly on one spot.
"Won Yu-sang."
The Crown Prince, seeing where Hui-seo's gaze had landed, called for Eunuch Won.
It was a quiet call.
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