The night held more magic than the day. The darkness that enveloped the whole sky was like a comforting blanket of wonder. In the hidden veil of dark, one would be able to imagine anything they wanted. That's why the darkness was said to be so scary, because they couldn't see what was really there and the mind always had a way of wandering.
An active mind can be a scary one, especially as a young child where the dark presents more nightmares than dreams. Maybe at one time, the dark looming presence in the corner was seen as a monster, a rogue and bloodthirsty creature that had every intent to kill until the dawn came and it was clear that the vengeful creature was only a coat rack. But as that child grew older, perhaps the dark and looming presence would be seen not as a monster but as an object of the unknown.
The night was never supposed to be scary. Darkness was never supposed to be a symbol of evil, especially not when the darkness was the most comforting part of the daily cycle. Sure the daytime lit up the earth in warmth and light, highlighting the flowers in gold and made the ocean appear gentler than it really was. There was a certain level of comfort that day brought but left no room for imagination.
The big tree that stood alone out in the middle of the rolling hills, away from all the groves of apple trees was only just that... just a tree in the day. But during the night, that big tree could be anything, there was no light proving what it was exactly. It could be a dark cloud, one so full of rain that the weight dragged it down to kiss the earth much like they did to the tall mountains in a faraway land. There were so many options for things in the night, under the shadow of imagination, and it left the young prince wide awake in search of a mental escape.
On a night where the stars were bright and the moon laid low on the horizon, there wasn't as much darkness as the prince would've liked, though the view was nice. When the moon switched places with the sun, nearly dipping itself into the water below, was when Seonghwa figured the moon was the most beautiful.
Sure the large object floating around somewhere in space took away his abilities to imagine that the seagulls still flying around in the dead of night were actually dragons, but he didn't mind when the moon looked so majestic.
He thought it was odd how he grew jealous of the moon. Such an odd thing to grow jealous of- the prince figured most would be jealous of the sun if anything because it was warm and bright, people would wake up just to see it and greet it just like its warm rays on the land.
But no, Seonghwa was jealous of the moon.
The moon was bright and occasionally looked even bigger than the sun. The object he could look at without his eyes burning and caused him pain. The one that brought out the beauty of the stars instead of hiding them as the sun did. The prince was vaguely aware that the moon was only seen because of the sun's light, some sort of reflection, so maybe he should be more thankful to the sun for casting light upon some lowly rock drifting in space.
Seonghwa had always known he was drawn to the moon more than the sun. When he was young he attributed it to the fact that he could never sleep, the energy in his body was always too grand for him to relax and let his body succumb to a dreamland. He would squirm around in bed until he could no longer stand it, rolling the sheets into a near ball before climbing out of bed and running out onto his own balcony with his bare little feet hitting the cold ground. Perhaps he had lost count on how many times he had been scolded for being found asleep on the ground against the railing after a full night of stargazing, but the young prince couldn't deny the desire to reach up into the sky and pull the moon down into his hands.
In his mature years, standing on the same balcony in the dead of night, with his fingers finally bare of the jewelry he was weighed down with the day before as he stood in his night robes and his face bare, he knew his love for the moon was rooted in jealousy. The gorgeous moon shone brightly with no one watching but those who had a desire to be just like it. The moon got to move throughout the black sea of space, with no duties, no responsibilities, and an unlimited amount of imagination.
The lady that sat in the moon was indeed a lucky woman. The moon goddess that shone her brilliant light down on the sleeping world, was all that Seonghwa wished to be.
The prince leaned over the railing just a little, his neatly combed hair that rivaled the darkness of the sky, succumbed to the laws of gravity as he looked down to the ground underneath him. It would be a far fall, one that would leave him gasping his last breath dare he fall over. He knew what was under him, under the very place where he stood.
As the days passed by, the number of suns dancing across the sky became too many to count on hands and feet, the young prince found himself wondering if the very pirate that was still chained and beaten under him was looking at the moon just like he was.
The prince had not stepped foot inside the prison ever since that one fateful day when the pirate claimed Seonghwa was more chained up than he was. He hadn't spoken to the man at all, not even to the people stuck behind bars who were ready to bend at the knee and beg for his gift of freedom.
Sometimes when he thought back to that one spring day when he had lost his cool and lost to the pirate in terms of temperament, he found shame settling in his stomach. He had been in the presence of criminals who had killed people he knew, and even then he hadn't lost it like he had with the pirate. He hated to think about it, and sometimes like this night, he would find himself with his head hung low, gripping the railing in a fit of self-destruction.
Though, as the seasons changed and spring thawed into summer, the young prince was finally able to realize why he hated that interaction as much as he did. It was at dawn one day when he arose from his sleep with his body covered in sweat and his hair matted- that Seonghwa truly realized why that one small and short interaction left his fingers trembling with anger.
It was because he had never felt so free before.
That moment, that fleeting moment, was the first time since the young prince had been able to run free in the fields with butterflies in his hair, that he didn't feel the heavy and invisible chains dragging behind him.
The rage, the anger, the pure emotion that dripped from every pore in his skin was new and exciting. The lack of titles, the informality, the aggression made him feel young again.
And it was the prince's desire for more that left him feeling so ashamed. There was no room for that kind of behavior in his life anymore. It was like a sip of the finest alcohol that burned his throat but always left him wanting more, getting him drunk and loose-minded, losing his way. He has always heard the royal guards talking after a long night of celebration when they were about as intoxicated as one could be without falling over passed out cold, saying something along the lines of drunk words were sober thoughts.
If that was the case, Seonghwa had been drunk on his desire for the unknown.
Who knew a pirate, a sea rat, a man with his long hair tangled dreadfully with strings and beads- would be the one to spark that hidden desire the young prince had pushed down many years ago. With only a few words, a crooked smile where Seonghwa swore he saw a golden tooth, that lowly pirate had been unable to unravel all the teachings, all the practice the prince had put into containing his raw emotions. What took years and years to perfect, came crumbling down in a mere few seconds.
The prince could stare unblinking at the moon for as long as he wanted, he could envision himself inside the glowing white light instead of the moon goddess herself. Seonghwa could stare and stare for as long as he wanted, but no matter how often he found himself nearly on his knees and gripping onto the chiseled railing of the castle, begging for just a lick of freedom, it would never come.
Jealousy was a disease, it was poison. It grew and grew until it completely consumed its desired host, much like a parasite. Most people grew jealous over another person- someone who held a higher status or someone who had longer and silkier hair. Someone's whose fingers were nimble enough to grace the strings of a harp and entertain his majesty. Or perhaps another who had a gift for cooking, someone who could make something from nothing but flour and maybe eggs. Or perhaps, jealousy of someone's partner, a hidden desire to obtain what is not theirs.
Jealousy was rotten to the bone.
And yet, the prince could not shake the burning feeling that crept up and down his spine each night as he watched the moon travel across the sky before settling on the horizon, and dipping its feet into the cooling waters of the ocean. He hated the feeling of his palms being so empty despite reaching out and trying to pull the moon closer to him. Because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how dark and deep his desperation to become something he wasn't, grew larger and larger, the invisible but heavy shackles which were locked against the bone of his ankle would never disappear into the humid and warm air of the night.
No amount of begging or praying would unlock them. The young prince was caught from the second he was born and chained to the walls of the castle. It was his duty, his responsibility, his path he must follow.
So Seonghwa could only plead to the moon, his eye shining wet with tears of desire and desperation for a chance of change, for a taste of the freedom he read about in the books in the great library. That was his only escape, the only time he allowed himself to break, the person who people needed him to be shattered into a million pieces under the moon's careful light, as he imagined himself to be something different in the darkness of the night.
But by morning, when the dawn broke the sky and color once again filled the earth and took away the cloud of careful and precious imagination, the young prince was back to being just that. Seonghwa became the prince he was supposed to be once more. He allowed the servants to help him dress into the colorful and hand-sewn traditional gowns he would wear for the day. He would allow the servants to do his hair in the way they seemed fit, and then touch up his face with pale powder to make him seem absolutely flawless.
The dawn brought on a new person, a new man. The red and orange morning reflected the colors of his robes and the rubies on his ears, Seonghwa became the embodiment of dawn. His father always claimed red and orange were the colors that looked best on him, symbolizing strength, desire, and domination. And while the prince couldn't deny that such colors brought out the depths of his cheekbones and jawline, giving him an accented appearance of pure power; Seonghwa couldn't deny the way his eyes would flick over to his wardrobe and wish he was allowed to wear the deep blue and purple robes that rested there gathering dust as time flew by.
As the long and expensive robes were pressed to his body as he stood on a box in front of his large mirror, letting the servants around him fuss over his appearance like a routine, like they actually cared, the prince found himself looking out his balcony again. He watched the long silk curtains blow in the ocean breeze, his eyes dropping just a little as he wished for the moon goddess to come back to comfort him once more.
-~-
On the rare occasion that Seonghwa's princely duties and studies were finished for the day or he had less than normal, he liked to visit his mother who had become very ill with a disease that was not known to many. The disease was not something he was aware of, and many of the royal physicians claimed they could not treat it. It wasn't something that was contagious, but even then, Seonghwa's father only allowed limited visits.
So the prince took each opportunity he could, for his mother was one of the very few people, besides his advisor, that understood him to a certain degree.
His mother's royal cambers were much like his own, though larger and more grand due to her higher status. He always had the most fun in her room when he was a child. The hiding places were unlimited and her soft voice was like an angel's whisper. He often felt safe there, like a comforting and warm blanket, even in his grown years.
But nothing ever did prepare him, no matter how many times he walked through her jeweled and gold-painted doors, for the sickness that laid behind it. What once used to be a room full of majesty and light, became something enveloped in a dooming presence. This was the kind of darkness that Seonghwa was afraid of, the imagination he found in this room was something he grew terrified of.
Even though the curtains were drawn back and the room was bright, beautiful vases filled with even more beautiful flowers stationed all around the frequently dusted room, there was still a looming presence of darkness. The large bed that sat in front of the far wall, a gorgeous duvet spilling all over the floor from the sheer size of it with sheer curtains falling from the ceiling around the bed, was a sight to see for sore eyes.
As the prince walked carefully across the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet in the middle of the room, he could see his mother sitting up in bed, propped up with many pillows as she held a thin book in hand. Her dark and long hair was down, Seonghwa assumed it originally was tied back with a loose bow but had fallen out as she slept, and her face as pale as it always was.
She was younger than most mothers, no wrinkles yet graced her porcelain face, and it was hard to see her body become plagued with something so awful at her age. It was normal for women to become pregnant and give birth to a child early in their years, but even more so for families graced with royalty. Seonghwa had no idea how young his mother was when she had him, ages were never discussed around the castle unless it was his own to remind him of his upcoming coronation, but he could tell that she had been too young.
When he sat on the edge of her bed near her small and frail body was when she finally seemed to notice his presence. There was a few moments of silence, her careful and watchful eyes looking over him as if he was a stranger to her, the book in her cold fingers set down in her lap like she was scared.
It was the illness, Seonghwa knew that. It had been explained to him many times, but it still didn't ease his breaking heart every time his mother looked at him like she had never seen him before.
But that moment of the unknown would pass, and her eyes brightened instantly and a small smile would appear on her lips as she leaned forward to embrace her son once she finally seemed to recognize him.
"Oh my son," she would say, her eyes almost watering when she pulled back from her warm embrace, her eyes looking all over him and his vestments like a proud mother would. "How you have grown so quickly, you're all grown up now."
Seonghwa could only press his lips together and try to force a smile. She had said the same thing last time too.
"The days are passing quicker, now more than ever, my Queen," he answered back, a respectful bow of his head with his hand placed over his chest. "But yes, I am all grown now."
His mother frowned a little, bringing her hand up and pressed it against his cheek. "I am your mother am I not? Please address me as so."
"You are indeed," the prince replied, pressing his own hand over her smaller one and leaning into her touch. "Though it is only proper to address you by your title, you know the rules."
"I am your Queen, there is no doubt about it," she answered immediately, leaning forward more and placing another hand on Seonghwa's other cheek and forced him to look up at her stern gaze which the prince knew too well. "But I am first and most importantly your mother."
She then gave him an almost playful look, one that Seonghwa never saw during her reign as queen upon her throne. Dare he say that perhaps her forced bedridden need had allowed her to become more playful. Or maybe it was because of her forgetfulness, she had partly forgotten who she was.
"Of course, mother," Seonghwa grabbed her hand to place a peck on the back of it, before he held it tightly in his own and let it fall down to his lap.
"Much better," she mused, her smile much brighter than it was the last time he had visited her. The prince knew it would be in vain to hope that the sickness was leaving her, he knew that good days only came when the weather was warmer. And just as easy and peaceful as the good days came, the bad ones would soon follow. It was a loop, an endless circle.
And with her proud words came the silence that followed immediately after. This much of their conversation was the same most times, it was like a script of a play written out for the both of them. What happened next, what was said next, what could be remembered, was unknown and uncharted territory. The prince sat still and frozen on his mother's bed and watched her fuss around with the sheet that laid heavily on top of her.
It would be a gamble on what she would say and what she would be able to remember. Though Seonghwa was still thankful and praised the gods above every night that his mother was still able to recognize him- that much was what kept him going.
He watched her move around freely, taking his hand in hers now and then rubbing her thumb over his knuckles and watching him too as the prince couldn't find any words that would come to his lips when he noticed the piles of medicine containers on his mother's nightstand. There were easily many more containers than there was last time, and her face seemed even smaller after his last visit.
It made him feel even worse than he already did.
"You are unhappy," she whispered, her thin eyebrows pulled together as she could sense her son's distress. "What is plaguing my son's mind?"
"Not anything you should have to worry about," he tried his best to reassure her. Seonghwa wanted this visit to go smoothly and free of worry.
But even in her state, the Queen was preceptive and sharp and was able to see right through the prince's reassuring words.
"It is a mother's job to worry, so tell me," she pushed, sitting up as much as she possibly could and did her best to squeeze his hand.
Mentioning her illness was completely out of the question because most times his mother didn't even remember she was sick and if he mentioned it to her, it would open a horrible can of worms that would end up with him rushing out the door and leaving her screaming in distress. It only happened once, but it was enough for him to never let it happen again. Her forgetfulness was both a blessing and a curse sometimes, and perhaps if it was only her failing mind, Seonghwa would be able to accept that in the near future his mother would forget who he was completely. But no, her body was also failing her for an unknown reason. No one knew why, and that was the hardest part about it.
When the prince didn't answer, his mother only squeezed his hand again, her words coming out very gently.
"Is it that girl? The princess... what was her name?"
"Lady Seojun, mother," the prince answered easily, a small smile coming to his face.
"Oh yes, I remember her. A gorgeous young woman, where is she from again?"
"She is from the North."
At the mention of the Northern Kingdom, his mother's eyes brightened like stars in the night sky. That was the only word she never forgot, without fail time and time again, her memory of the Northern Kingdom remained the only stable foundation of her crumbling memory.
"I was from the Northern Kingdom," she beamed, a rather childlike expression, as she squeezed his hand again.
Seonghwa nodded his head, mindful of the jewels and pins decorating his head so they wouldn't fall off and ruin his hair. His smile only grew alongside his mother's, sharing in the warmth and joy of the morning.
"Yes, indeed you were. How could I forget?"
"No wonder she is so gorgeous. We women from the North were graced with the purest of waters, it's what made us so beautiful," his mother flashed him a proud smile, one that made him chuckle. "Is she visiting? I would love to see her again and talk about our previous kingdom, I wish to know how it is doing."
"She visited a few weeks ago mother and has already left, but she did come to see you. You both talked about the blooming roses out in the garden and offered to take you to see them when she visits our kingdom next," the prince did his best to explain.
Her eyes softened considerably. "How sweet of her, I can tell she is a gentle soul- very caring and loving too. Did you have a nice visit with her?"
Seonghwa nodded his head again.
"I did, afternoon walks and tea with her are always a joy. She knows my whole routine by now, can navigate the castle without my presence. It's almost like her second home."
There was something quick that flashed across his mother's eyes, something like a spark of interest as she caught onto something before he could even think it into existence.
"It sounds like I may have already met our future kingdom's new queen," she spoke slowly and softly, her eyes crinkling just a little at the corner as she looked at her son with a playful expression. "Surely it is almost time for such things to happen, I have no doubt your father is already making preparations?"
Seonghwa felt his eyes drop, much like his own heart, though the prince did his best to not show it.
"Yes mother, preparations are already being made for the union of our two kingdoms once more," he answered carefully, avoiding her gaze and instead he found more interest in the rings decorating his fingers along with the too many bracelets.
"Are you going to ask permission to court her?" Was his mother's next question, but before he could even answer, she was speaking again. "Or perhaps you have already been courting her and are preparing to publically ask for her hand in marriage?"
The prince couldn't suppress the shocked expression on his face, his ears going bright red immediately gave it away along with the way his lips parted and his eyes grew two sizes too big. His mother laughed, the sound gorgeous as it filled the silent air in the castle, and even if she was laughing at him- he couldn't find it in himself to grow resentment or further embarrassment.
"I have yet to ask permission to court her," Seonghwa forced out once his mother calmed down, coughing just a little bit. He could feel his cheeks burning as red as his vestments and he began to overheat too quickly that even the cool morning air wasn't helping enough.
"Oh, my darling, what is taking you so long?" She asked, her facial features softening as she went back to fussing over her son. "You have such a lovely woman at your fingertips, one that already considers this castle to be her second home. Surely there is nothing more you could wish for?"
There it was again, those few words that he heard way too many times from his own advisor who was pulling his hair out because the prince still had yet to ask to court princess Seojun. Of course his mother would also see it that way as well, as a victim of an arranged marriage- forced marriage- she too would only see it as a duty. Seonghwa could not blame her, as he had grown and learned what exactly his mother had been subject to, he could never blame her.
But still, the words were spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"I love her," he whispered, his hands latching onto his mother's and holding her a little tighter than what was called for. He looked right into his mother's eyes, before dropping his gaze down to his lap once more, squeezing his eyes shut so the pounding color wouldn't bring him early blindness. His voice came out even softer than his previous whisper as he let himself drop the hundreds of steel walls he built around himself and grew fully vulnerable in her presence. "I love her, she has grown to be the purest and most worthy person I know, the fittest for the crown and position by my side as Queen of our kingdom once father renounces the crown. But my love for her is not the love I crave, and I fear if I walk down this forced path, I will subject her to a fate of self-destruction."
It was silent, except for the few morning doves right outside the bedroom windows that sat on the fruit trees and the flute player that always played in the morning. It was a gentle sound, one that brought peace to the castle and the countryside, and the prince always enjoyed his morning strolls along the castle walls listening to nature's songs and the flute blending in to make a perfect rhyme. But now the sound wasn't so comforting as Seonghwa wasn't entirely sure how his confession would be received. His mother had changed a lot over the years, had thawed from her hardened heart, but that still didn't mean his worries would be received with an open or understanding mind.
"A princess knows her duties, and she knows them well," was the response he got after a while, his mother's face suddenly void of the emotion she had before. "The more you think about it, the worse it will be for both you and her. Making her wait will only make it harder on her as a princess, her value drops each day you stall. She has been trained just as you have, she knows what marriage between royalty is all about. It seems Lady Seojun is doing her part, it's time you do yours as the crown prince."
And just like that, the switch was flipped. It was almost scary how her mood changed, and Seonghwa knew that his time visiting his mother that day was up. It made his heart drop painfully to his stomach as it twisted into knots, the blank and pale expression on his mother's face was the same one he saw all the time as she sat still and perfect on her thone next to his father every day when visitors came or there was a special event. She had been relieved of her queenly duties ever since she grew ill, but there were times were something was triggered in her memory and she reverted back into an overly practiced version of herself, even though it had been two years since the proud crown of gold sat on top of her head.
So when she pulled her hand from her son's grip, the prince pressed his lips together as his chest only ached in rejection once more. It was a new kind of pain, one that was different from hearing those same words from his father. He only longed to be close to her, to be understood by his mother, to have someone on his side and claim that he wasn't insane for what he was thinking. But the young prince knew deep down that the traditions in the castles ran too deep in order for change to happen. They had customs for a reason, they had laws, they had their specific traditions- and he was born into them, there was nothing he could do about it.
His mother was right and Seonghwa knew it.
He couldn't hide anymore, it would only hurt Seojun more than the world already had the longer he waited. The prince knew he should be thankful that he was to marry an old friend, someone who he trusted and could confide in. But as he left his mother's chambers, her book back between her cold fingers as she stared at one page, but never flipping to the next, Seonghwa couldn't help but look back over his shoulder and see the way the light was casting shapes and colors onto her skin.
His mother had been ruined, and Seojun would be next.
It was a shame.
-~-
Another week had passed since his visit with his mother, a very long and busy week, full of business meetings that always happened around this time of year. Seonghwa was forced to sit on all the meetings with his father and advisors as they talked about different things going on with the kingdom and then compared it to other kingdoms. It wasn't difficult to understand, the prince had been doing this since he was very young and he understood how trade worked perfectly, even better than some of his father's advisors in his opinion. When he turned twenty, Seonghwa was allowed to start giving his opinions on certain things revolving around trade and how to potentially help his kingdom prosper more.
Since then, he had been able to show his worth as the crown prince, as his decisions were always backed up and he fought his points as well as he could. It was hard sometimes, especially when discussing certain topics about the class system, how the system was always set up to sound like it was benefitting people of all classes, when in reality it would end up benefiting the top class and the royal family the most. The prince had to remember who he was, and even though he was the crown prince, he was not the one who held the power in the meeting rooms and therefore had to bite his tongue when laws were being made that were completely unfair.
The only thing that made him feel better was the knowledge that he would be able to reverse the laws when he took the weight of the crown, he just hoped the people could hang on until the change of power.
Some meetings were so bad that had the young prince fuming when he left the room, especially when comments and remarks were thrown at him and his lack of knowledge on a subject because he had suggested something that was a little outside of tradition. It was like the answer to a better way of life was right in the palm of their hands, but the elders pushed it away because their hands were green with greed for money.
Sometimes Seonghwa had to imagine them as dragons, big beasts that were sick with what ancient stories used to call dragon sickness, a hunger for all the gold in the world.
"You'll understand when you take the throne. I know none of it makes sense now, but you will understand soon," Seonghwa's father had told him probably not even a complete year ago when the young prince nearly refused to enter the meeting room because of what the advisors were saying outside the large room before the meeting started. "You must uphold your image, you are the crown prince and my son. You are known for your cool temper, if you lose it for just a second the advisors will lock onto it, and I will be to blame. So hold your tongue and act as you are to."
But the young prince didn't want to understand. He knew that if he ever did understand like his father said, then that too would mean he had caught dragon sickness and would have lost sight of what it truly meant to rule over a kingdom. It seemed each king before him had caught it, so his odds weren't exactly looking all too good.
That thought horrified him.
But the prince still did what he was supposed to, he did what he could to prepare himself for his doomed fate. As the hot summer pressed on and on, the days becoming so unbearably hot, so did the upcoming dread of what was to come. Seonghwa knew the power balance was really starting to change when his father no longer showed up to certain meetings, claiming he was busy with business travels to distant lands, and left Seonghwa to make the decisions.
The young prince did as best as he could, and it seemed with each meeting he was winning over the elders more and more with the mask he wore. He presented himself as his father would, and that seemed to quench their thirst enough and give them hope that the next king would continue on with their ideals. It exhausted the prince to no end, especially when his advisor pulled him to the side after one of the final meetings of the week and reminded him of the one princely duty he had been neglecting.
Truthfully, it had slipped his mind completely. With both his classes, the kingdom, his mother, princess Seojun... he had failed to remember that he still was going to be the one to perform a very important and traditional ceremony in the spring before his coronation. Seonghwa was supposed to be spending some time with the prisoners and attempting to choose who would get to run free once more.
"Your father wrote," his advisor nearly whispered to him. "The king told me to tell you to remember you still have one more ceremony to perform."
"Is that all my father asks of me? He never writes just to remind me of such minor issues," the prince asked back, watching his advisor reach behind his body to pull out a letter that had been broken at the seal and was slightly crumpled up.
The letter was then pushed into the prince's hands, and Seonghwa's advisor waited for him to read over the entire thing before deciding to speak again.
"Your majesty wants you to interrogate him," the man next to him spoke carefully, choosing to ignore the way Seonghwa's fingers tightened around the letter as he too read over the exact words his father had instructed to him.
"We have interrogators that specialize in that," the prince clenched his jaw, ripping his eyes away from the stamped seal at the bottom of the letter that he wanted to rip and throw away. "I am a prince, not an interrogator. I have no business with the proclaimed Great Pirate King, surely my father would understand that I am not fit for something like that. I have one duty, and one duty only."
"Your highness," his advisor stressed, trying to plead with the prince who crumbled the letter between his hands and threw it to the ground before pressing down on it with his foot. "Surely you read the rest of the letter before you... destroyed it? You must've noticed that it is your king's command, crown prince or not, you have to obey."
"I saw," was all the prince said, his lips nearly white in a fine line, his hands clenching into fits just at the near thought of stepping inside of that god-forsaken cell with that pirate again.
"I am with you, your highness, I do not understand why your father wants you to do such a task. But it is a command," the prince's advisor spoke again, a soft sigh coming from his lips as he could easily see and sense the man's distress. "Your father wants to know why the Great Pirate King was in our waters. He wants to know what the man's intentions were with our kingdom or just in general. It is not normal for pirates such as him to travel here, especially since piracy became outlawed. The King fears that even since the Great Pirate King was caught and will be killed, our kingdom is still in danger of an unforeseen attack."
Seonghwa turned to face the slightly shorter man beside him, giving him a look before he too sighed and let his tensed shoulders drop. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gave him a firm squeeze. There were no words that came to the prince's mind, none that were proper at least, so he kept his mouth closed and released yet another hot breath. It was a mutual understanding that passed between them, Seonghwa's advisor knew not to speak anymore and the prince knew to not open his mouth as well. All that was needed to be said, had already been spoken out loud. All that was called for just needed to be set into action, a mere step of the foot forward.
After a long moment of silence, where the prince stared at the plain wall in front of him, his eyes unfocused as he briefly ran away into his mind to his safe place, under a tree by the ocean's edge. He could nearly smell the salty water, and even in his imagination the sun still kissed him sweetly and gave him both the patience and courage he needed to press forward.
"I am but a mere puppet to my father, the King. His wish is my command," the prince said finally, his jaw still clenched but he dropped his hand from his advisor's shoulder. Seonghwa said nothing more, his few words spoke more volume than the novel of words he had on repeat in his mind.
The prince didn't have much room for making his own choices, so when one opportunity presented itself, he seized it with both hands and refused to let it go. He chose in that very moment to not make a scene. Seonghwa chose to act as he should and obey his King.
He hated every second of it as he walked away to go prepare himself for yet another task he was burdened with, but at least it was still a choice he got to make.
-~-
During the dead of summer, the dungeons were even worse than they were in the late spring, early summer. The sweltering heat in combination with the humidity was enough to have the place smelling so bad the prince had to wear a cloth around his face. It was a thick cloth, and even then he could still smell the horrid stench from the prison cells and it never failed to make him gag a few times.
It was an arguable factor that the dungeon was in worse conditions during the summer than in the winter.
Seonghwa couldn't bear to spend more than five minutes down there, and sometimes there was a crawling feeling of guilt that ran through his nervous system when he remembered these people had to live down here in completely unsanitary and inhuman conditions.
His summer robes were much thinner, though they still were way too hot and the second the dungeon doors were opened to him, the prince was already dripping with sweat. He tried to ignore the people that reached through the metal bars to grab onto his vestments, surprised and very happy to see him after not having any word from their potential savior. They praised him, fell on their dirtied knees, and pretended to worship him as if he was some god worthy of such praise.
Seonghwa hated it, despised the action in general. He was no god, he was no savior. To them he was, but it was only an act. They too wore the same mask he did just to potentially save their lives. There were probably fifty of them, all in direct competition with each other. It was a very high number, and when the prince first started this job of his, it scared him to think that he'd have to choose just one person from the whole group. But with experience, the prince knew that once winter was done and the ceremony and decision-making became serious, there would most likely only be ten left.
Most would die before they even got their chance due to their current living situations.
The musk was overbearing, a horrible smell that the prince wanted to run away from, but stood strong as he held onto his lantern and followed after a few guards that led him through the maze of the dungeon underground. The young prince could already feel the anger start to burn just as soon as the door to the same cell he had entered long ago came into view. It was an instant reaction, and Seonghwa barely heard the guard tell him to holler if the pirate did anything the prince didn't approve of.
There was the sound of keys, a small jingling sound echoed in the prince's ears that combined with the sound of crashing waves, and then the door creaked open. It dragged heavily against the floor, scraping it loudly and Seonghwa hated the sound more than anything in the whole world.
It was a heavy feeling of deja vu, one that left the prince feeling very unsettled as he once again found himself standing in a darkened and steaming hot room. The bottoms of his feet were burning hot, like the ground under him was burning holes in the soles of his shoes. It was much darker this time around than it was the first, the prince had decided to go around sunset in the hope that the lack of sunlight would aid in not being able to see the offending pirate in front of him.
Though Seonghwa was quick to find that it was not the case, the small window at the very top of the cell which could have very well been the only reason the pirate was still alive, still let in the last bits of daylight. It almost formed a spotlight on the pirate where he was still chained to the floor and the whipping pillar, the same exact location as he was last time. Seonghwa could see the dust particles moving around in the light, the rather fogginess to the cell was rather unsettling.
Had the man even moved since the prince had seen him last?
The overly stuffy and humid air in combination with the thick cloth over Seonghwa's nose made it even harder to breathe, and it almost made the prince feel like he was trapped underground with a heavy weight on his chest. Though he pushed away his fears of being trapped against his will and tugged back the single chair away from the small desk in the relatively dry corner of the cell and sat down on it.
The prince crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in it, doing his best to ignore the creaking sound of the chair and turn his attention to the plain book he had brought. It was small and leather-bound, no indentation anywhere on it to claim ownership, and not even a single word had been written inside on the pale pages. Seonghwa usually used the empty books he found in the library to help aid his studies on foreign affairs or different topics his teacher would preach about, but he decided that he could also use one to begin his interrogation process.
Without even so much as a word or a deep inhale of breath, the prince then pulled out his feather pen and ink from a small cloth bag he carried with him whenever he traveled out of the castle walls. It had been a gift from the Northern Kingdom, his lady in waiting had been the one to give it to him years ago, hand made by her own fingers.
There was a moment when the prince paused with his fingertips pressed tightly against the feather pen that everything became silent. The man in front of him remained unmoving as he was leaned back against the metal pole with his legs stretched out in front of him limply.
The prince scowled deep in his throat at the sorry image.
"Speak pirate," he insisted, the deepness of his voice was rather uncharacteristic. "I know you are not sleeping, I have been warned that your kind is very deceitful. Your tricks will not work on me."
There was a drip somewhere in the room, and Seonghwa could not quite figure out where the rhythmic sound was coming from, but it kept knocking him from his concentration every time a drop of water would splash into the invisible puddle. It became louder and louder the longer the silence between them lasted, so loud to the point where it made the prince's ears ring.
Despite the young prince's threats, the pirate that sat on the ground with his arms chained behind him and his ankles shackled to metal clips in the floor did not respond in the way Seonghwa wanted him to. The man's hair was nearly covering his face, tangled even worse than it was at their last meeting, and his head was hanging forward like he was exhausted yet refused to sleep. The little bit of sunlight only highlighted the absolute filth that was the pirate, the stench and overall dirtiness was almost too much to bear for the sparkling prince.
"I demanded you to speak and yet you refuse to," the prince tried again. "Do you wish to go through the torturing ritual again? I can easily have it arranged if you refuse to listen to my demands."
Finally, there seemed to be some movement, just a few strands of beaded hair that lay in front of the pirate's face moved as he seemed to exhale sharply. The movement almost made Seonghwa jump, like his instincts saw the man in front of him as a dragon that had just awoken from his slumber and should be feared. Technically speaking the prince should be fearful of the pirate. The man was not someone that should be taken lightly as if he was a small and helpless kitten just because he had been tortured and was chained down to the floor.
There were stories, after all, old and new tales of pirates escaping places that should have never been possible.
Seonghwa watched as the man seemed to breathe life back into himself, his legs twitching before he moved them around to help increase the blood flow through his body. It seemed to take hours for the pirate to finally lift his head, rolling it back slowly as if the movement hurt him until the back of his head rested against the post behind him.
Like this, his whole body was nearly exposed, no longer crumbled together, and the light made his wet skin glow.
Seonghwa knew the wetness coating his tanned skin was sweat, especially with the way the shirt had become sheer and stuck to the pirate's chest much like his torn pants to his thighs. The wounds the prince remembered being torn into the man's skin were sealed over and scarred by now, just holes and stains of brown were left behind in the clothing as the only indicator of what had happened.
Like this, the prince could see that the metal collar that had been clipped around the pirate's neck was gone. There were faint marks of red where it had lain, and Seonghwa wondered if the color would ever disappear.
"Ye 'ave nah asked me a question," the pirate said, his voice so scratchy that Seonghwa almost couldn't understand him. "What do I 'ave to talk about?"
The prince could physically hear the sarcasm dripping from the pirate's words.
"Watch your tone, pirate scum," Seonghwa's grip tightened even more on the pen. "Did you already forget who I am? You are not to speak so freely to me."
"How could I forget?" Came the reply, the pirate's dry tongue swiping over his cracked lips to help soothe them. "A pretty face like yers, drippin' in gold 'n rubies? I can hear ye comin' before ye open the door, yer royal vestments, young princelin', give ye away."
"You must be mad," the prince pressed his lips together tightly, his head spinning like the visible heatwaves in the room.
"Mad? No. Me insanity does nah come from jealousy, I 'ave no desire for yer riches."
For some reason, the pirate's confession made Seonghwa's brain stutter for a few moments. It made his stomach twist in disappointment that the objects hanging from his very body were not something the pirate saw of value when it indeed was of the highest value. The prince knew that the very jewels covering his fingers and ears would be enough to pay for a year's worth of food for the pirate. Not to mention the silk vestments tied around him, or the hairpieces pinned to his head.
It only made him angrier.
"You are a pirate, surely you know what is of value when you see it? I never expected your kind to be smart but surely you can tell what is gold from just looking at it," Seonghwa nearly spat, tearing his eyes away from the pirate's damp and bared throat. "You disappoint me time and time again, I am beginning to think they caught the wrong pirate. Surely the Great Pirate King would be drooling and begging me for just a corner of my vestment or a ring from my very finger by now."
"Aye, but I 'ave no interest in it. The mighty vestments 'n jewelry that cover yer wee body 'ave been paid for with blood money. I may be a pirate but I 'ave a conscience."
Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed thickly, nearly into a straight line, before he dipped the end of the feather pen into the ink dish.
"Bloody money? Maybe you are mad after all, to think that the royal family gets their money that way is absurd."
The pirate seemed to shift again, instantly grabbing Seonghwa's attention as the movement spooked him. The prince sucked in a breath as the man finally opened his eyes, the whites of it more red than not, and his sharp gaze made Seonghwa go stiff in his seat.
The pirate's body posture was not threatening at all, the chains did not allow him much movement at all and kept him in a submissive position. But his gaze was something different, there was a sense of pride and ego behind his dark eyes. The staredown between them was brief, but it was nothing like Seonghwa had ever experienced. He had been subjected many times to his father's disappointed looks, and even some mean glances from the advisors around the castle, all of which knocked the young prince off his high horse instantly- but none of them had ever made him fear for his life.
The pirate's eyes looked murderous, venomous, and red, the glare so sharp that it had Seonghwa second-guessing his words and made his heart stutter in its beat. There was part of him deep down that wanted to rise to the occasion, he wanted to stand up tall and hover over the pirate to remind the man who the only one permitted to give such threatening looks was, but the prince found himself frozen in his chair with the pen still in hand, hovering over the blank page where just a few drops of black ink had fallen.
It might have been at that very moment when the prince realized why the man in front of him has earned the title of the Great Pirate King, those piercing eyes no doubt were enough to have a proud man second guess everything he stood for. Seonghwa had never had anyone really stand up to him in this way before, nothing more than a horrid look, and the young prince couldn't deny how much it threw him off.
"Maybe ye're more blind than I thought, wee prince. Surely yer teacher would 'ave taught ye about the history of yer kingdom and how ye were granted the great riches ye 'ave," the pirate spoke out slow and careful. "Money has to come from somewhere. It has a price."
"What are you suggesting?" Seonghwa swallowed, a sense of pride for his kingdom blazing deep down. Sure there were times that he hated his kingdom very much for things it did, but there was something about an outsider, a pirate scum no less, insulting the very kingdom he was to sit upon, that made him want to wrap his fingers around the man's neck and let the riches covering his fingers strangle the pirate to death.
"Why am I nah surprised that ye didn't know yer money supply comes from the amount of pirates ye murder in cold blood each year," the man let out a hot breath from his nose, another parallel to a fire-breathing dragon. "Yer King must 'ave forgotten to tell ye that everyone else pays ye to hang the pirates they catch 'cause they don't want that burden on their hands. Surely ye've heard of pirate loyalty?"
It was almost like a dash of light flashed before the prince's eyes.
"So that's why you were venturing into our waters?" Seonghwa leaned forward in his chair, his heart lurching forward as he felt he had managed to trick the pirate into explaining why he was here in the first place without even having to ask him. "That's why you finally were caught after all these years of chasing- you're here for revenge of your dead crewmates."
The pirate's dirty face remained a steady void of emotion, it was impossible for the prince to tell what the man was thinking.
"'Tis true I 'ave lost many crewmates to yer gallows o'er the years. Though 'twas their fault for venturin' so close to these waters," the man's head lulled to the side, nearly resting on his own shoulder as he continued to stare at the prince's face. "But it appears to me yer highness didn't know of such things?"
"No," Seonghwa answered instantly. "I only regard the people that come to this place with what they are charged. I have no say in the money besides what comes from trade. That is not my responsibility and I do not ask questions on the subject."
The pirate was silent for a few moments, and if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of the man's chest, the prince would have thought he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.
"Ye're in for a rough awakenin' when ye sit on the throne," the man then spoke, his eyes moving away from Seonghwa's face to somewhere else. "I hoped that things would be different for ye. But it seems the same power hunger that plagues the hands of the royal family has struck once more."
Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed again, his stomach twisting once more as his human pride was shattered again. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around himself and disappear. The prince no longer felt like the bigger person in the room and it was absolutely humiliating. He was supposed to be interrogating the pirate, not the other way around, and to be accused of the very thing he swore to himself every day he woke up that he wouldn't do- was maddening.
"You do not know me, pirate, so I suggest you don't go sticking your nose in other people's business," the prince managed to bite back, putting the feather pen in the book and slamming it closed.
"Aye, but I might know ye a wee better than ye reckon," the man sighed out, his face grimacing as he moved his legs around again. As he did, the prince could see where the edge of his pants rode up and exposed the skin of his ankles that had been rubbed raw and was bright red from the shackles. " 'N for the record, I was only sailin' close to yer waters 'cause I desired to visit a place I still hold dear in me heart, nah 'cause ye 'ave taken somethin' from me that I can never get back."
"What sort of pirate are you? Not even going to fight for your own people?" Seonghwa stood up in a rush of something, some type of new emotion he began to feel for the first time. It made his fingers twitch by his sides before he tightened his fingers into fists. "I do not believe a word you mutter to me."
The pirate only gave him a look and a raise of an eyebrow. "All ye do be accuse me of wrongdoings, princelin'. Perhaps ye shall put yer own misplaced hatred away afore ye end up hurtin' yer future kingdom more than helpin' it."
Seonghwa had to dig his nails into his palms in order to suppress an audible scowl.
"You know nothing about running a kingdom. You probably know nothing about running a ship either. Some captain they claimed you were, getting caught the way you did? Pathetic."
It grew silent between them again, and the musky and thick smell of the damp air came rushing back to press the prince back down in his chair. The cloth around his face did nothing to help the stench anymore, and he had half the mind to take it off and throw at the pirate so the man could at least clean the grime off his face before it drove Seonghwa completely insane.
But the longer the silence drew on, and the longer the pirate continued to stare at the prince, Seonghwa became restless and uneasy. The anger and hatred weren't very present in him any longer, it was just a faint ghost surrounding him instead of the usual strong phantom being that controlled his limbs. Without the powerful feelings inside him, the prince felt rather vulnerable, which was a very dangerous thing to feel in the presence of a pirate. He knew the man before him had a way with words, if the prince wasn't careful the pirate could probably convince him to unlock his chains and set him free.
"It seems ye know nothing either," the pirate finally spoke up, moving his head up straight again. "I almost feel bad for ye wee prince. It's hard to see ye like this, such a pretty thing so full of wrath. Perhaps in yer time seein' me, ye'll come to learn that things aren't always as they seem."
Seonghwa felt his lips part a little, the action completely involuntary before he grabbed his robes and pulled them tighter around himself. Despite the sweltering heat that made his vision blur and his knees buckle, he only pulled them tighter and tighter as he stood before the pirate who seemed to be used to a temperature as hot as this and the air as dense as it was around them. It was infuriating, and there was a moment where the prince wanted to slap the words right out of the pirate's mouth.
How dare the pirate, a man condemned to death, have pity on him, a prince clad in gold personified? And how dare he utter those filthy words so sincerely?
How dare the pirate see him as the weaker breed.
It seemed the prince had a thing for storming out of the cell with a small utter to the guard stationed outside that he was finished and to lock the door. It also seemed like Seonghwa had a thing for leaving behind his lantern and belongs in his fit of rage as he stormed out for the second time.
But it didn't matter, nothing mattered. Not even the screaming prisoners who nearly managed to trip him and further dirty his clothing as he fled the scene. Their howls rang off the walls as he passed by, sounds that the prince would hear repeated in his ears as he tried to sleep in a bed that was too vast for his own body. The sheer volume of the cries was enough of a reminder of just how many people were about to die at his hands. Sure, their punishments were deemed proper by the court for the crimes they committed- it wasn't like Seonghwa was condemning them for no reason. The prince just wished he didn't have to play favorites.
Surely it was not fair of him to play God. It couldn't be, especially when he was not even a grain of sand in comparison to the beautiful moon goddess. Perhaps she would be better at this job than he was. Perhaps the moon goddess could switch with him- she could take over his duties, and she could step down from her mighty seat in the moon and rule over a kingdom as vast and unjust as the one he was meant to rule.
Once again, as the prince rushed through the thick heavy doors at the top of the stairs that led into the courtyard, he found himself becoming jealous of the moon again. The sky had turned purple already with a dusting of pink outlining the clouds, and even though the sun had already laid to rest, the night did not grow any cooler. Seonghwa wondered if the heat that radiated off his body was visible to those around him.
The prince cleared his mind and dropped his arms to his sides. Once he was out of the prison walls, he had to regain his composer and his honor.
"Your highness, are you alright?"
His advisor had been waiting for him just outside of the castle wall, near a fountain with dark green vines wrapped all around it. The prince's advisor must've been waiting for him for a long time because he was constantly shifting from one foot to the other like a small amount of weight made them ache.
The prince turned to the man in front of him, but did not stop in his gait, and instead let the man chase after him.
"Perfectly fine, thank you."
"Where are you going at this hour?" Came the next question, and it only made Seonghwa clench his jaw tight.
"To write to my father."
"Were you successful in finding what the pirate was doing? Were the King's concerns correct?"
"Precisely that," the prince's voice came out in nothing short than a growl, the vibration thick in the back of his throat. "I must write to him immediately, it seems the Great Pirate King is here in the name of vengeance. If he is here then all of his followers will surely come, our kingdom is not safe the more the word spreads that we have him chained up. Pirate loyalty is as thick as blood, we are toying with beasts with each passing second."
His advisor seemed to fall silent at that, the prince couldn't see his facial expression but he assumed the man's face was overcome with a shocked expression at the news. Their heavy footsteps thudded against the very walls of the castle, it sounded like horses running on the eve of battle, and perhaps that was what was happening exactly.
"What are we going to do, my Lord?"
"I am not sure yet, but we will have to call an emergency council meeting as soon as the King returns from his trip," the prince answered, randomly stopping in the middle of the hallway with his advisor nearly running into him from behind at the sudden halt.
Seonghwa sucked in a deep breath as he stared right in front of him and down the long hall. There in front of him at the very end was the very rose that had grown in size, now sporting a gorgeous and full red flower. The light coming in the stained glass window of a lion and a lamb sleeping together in harmony made the petals of the fully grown rose look more like blood rather than the sweet and vibrant red color it had during the day.
The prince clenched his fists together again, bringing the fabric of the robe between his nails and skin so he wouldn't cause himself any unnecessary wounds.
Once again, the light provided by the moon showed what the rose truly was.
Seonghwa looked over his shoulder at the older man who still remained slightly behind him. "I must also ask my father what exactly is happening behind closed doors. Perhaps this new information presented to me is nothing more than deceit; however, if it is not, I can not deny that I would also find myself in a similar position fighting for revenge. That doesn't exempt further actions though, but I am just now understanding that maybe there is a reason that things have been kept hushed around me."
The prince turned away immediately, not missing the way the man's lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and took one last look at the rose that was dripping blood in the moonlight under the lion and the lamb.
Deceit. That's what was dripping down every single wall in the castle. Perhaps that's why the walls were so bare and why there were no decorations. The walls were too slippery with the force that was lies and cover-ups, that nothing could ever truly stick.
The castle was drenched in thick deceit.