Summer banquets required water. Cool water flowed along the square channel surrounding the banquet hall, carrying flower petals and candlelight. A small fountain in the center of the channel sent up a saffron-colored drink. The tables, endlessly supplied with food, gave off the scents of rosewater, cinnamon, and cardamom. Golden lamps shone on every side. The entertainers’ singing drifted leisurely onward.
Gene sat sideways on a long chair before the table. He wore silk clothes and sandals that he had somehow come to think did not suit him, along with gold bracelets and a ring. He had no appetite. He had only drunk a little wine sweetened with honey. A woman across from him spoke, but he ignored her. It was the rudeness Gene showed when he was in a very bad mood. On days like this, he was seized by the desire to return to those days when he had tripped disliked children in the village school and pushed and thrown everything until the place was a mess. Gene looked down at his hands. A faint scar from the recent battle remained on the back of one. He slowly clenched his fist, then opened it. He was a prince. The women were his guests. He had to treat them as guests deserved. Though he had never invited them. But then, he had never invited anyone into his own life either. Yet all sorts of people swarmed through it. Yes, they were his mother’s guests. His mother liked guests.
Laughter sounded behind him.
“Brother, you’re a real man now, aren’t you?”
Gene brightened and turned. Silk clothes and jewels did not look awkward on Pallasos. They suited his smooth, noble face, as they always had.
“What business has a seventeen-year-old at a night banquet?”
“I borrowed a little of my brother the conqueror of the Jandana’s glory. Heh.”
When Pallasos sat opposite him, only then did Gene pick up and eat a date stuffed with an almond. Pallasos leaned forward, his eyes shining.
“Tell me about the war. I’ve been squirming all over trying to hold back because I want to hear it. They say you killed seven hundred Jandana in a single night? Then how many hundred do you have to kill in an hour?”
At today’s banquet, all manner of exaggerated rumors circulated, to the point that Pallasos’s joke sounded almost charming. Gene, who could have confirmed the facts, kept his mouth tightly shut, so the false rumors were coming to life like lies raised by being fed. Gene folded his arms.
“No. I killed them all in two hours and slept the rest of the time.”
“As expected. Then what did your men do?”
“Made marks on the wall every time one died. We had to keep the count accurate.”
As he spoke nonsense, the warmth of drink rose in him. Only then did it feel like a banquet. Pallasos chuckled.
“Ah, I should have gone with you. Then I’d have become a conqueror of the Jandana for free. Why are you looking at me like that? I have enough skill to protect at least your back.”
Gene lowered his head, then burst out laughing.
“Thank you. But you see, in the final moment, the only person behind me was a castle lord who couldn’t even speak properly.”
The brothers laughed loudly together. Pallasos drank wine, lightly touched his warmed cheek, then leaned back in his chair. The slouching posture belonged to adults, but looked splendid, and he imitated it.
“Actually, that wasn’t a joke. I kept thinking how I wished I could have seen it beside you with my own eyes.”
“To be honest, it wasn’t something worth seeing. It was terrible.”
“It must have been. I heard it was a miracle you came back alive. War must be truly frightening in reality. Right?”
“Yes.”
“But even so, I’m a little sorry I didn’t get to see you fight.”
Gene drank more wine before replying.
“If you had, you probably wouldn’t even have recognized me.”
Instead of continuing, Pallasos gazed at Gene. He seemed to be imagining it. Probably some figure like a majestic, seasoned warrior. Gene did not stop him. It was something Pallasos would experience someday too, so there was no need to break his imagining. No, if it was Pallasos, perhaps he need not experience anything so terrible.
“It is because it’s you, after all. Because it’s you, you managed well. If it had been me, I’d have died at once.”
“That’s because you’re young.”
“I don’t think I’ll be like you even when I’m your age. How should I put it? You and I are fundamentally different. Ah, not that kind of foundation.”
The distinction of birth commonly spoken of in the palace meant legitimate and illegitimate birth. Gene too knew Pallasos was not the sort to say such a thing.
“You have something royalty and nobles don’t have. It’s hard to put my finger on it, but something strong, something persistent. So even thrown into a situation like that, you seem to do your part.”
“It may not necessarily be a good thing.”
“It doesn’t matter. I like it. I know I can’t imitate it, but if you weren’t here, perhaps I wouldn’t even have known such a thing existed.”
Then an attendant came and bowed beside Gene. He said something, but Gene was not listening. Since he knew what the man would say, there was no need to listen closely. Gene rose.
“It seems it’s time for me to go.”
“I’m glad you came back alive.”
When Gene nodded, Pallasos sat up straight, then spoke again.
“I didn’t worry because it was you. No, actually I did worry, but I’m still sorry.”
Gene wanted to ask what he meant, but it seemed it would make the conversation long, so he left for the moment. As he followed the attendant, women like tree shadows smiled and bowed as they passed. Gene deliberately avoided their eyes. He did not want to show them the only expression he could make now, when they had so anxiously dressed themselves for this moment. They were innocent guests who had answered his mother’s invitation. No, in truth, the wish to be fair and the wish to return to being a savage child were fighting, each catching the other by the ankles. Gene took a deep breath and escaped them.
Only when he reached the edge of the banquet hall did Gene look around. In a place where no one could read his expression, he searched for Thea. He thought she might have come. But he thought it more likely she had not. Sure enough, Thea was not there. Another face appeared instead. Thinking he might be mistaken, Gene widened his eyes.
“Dalsad?”
At that, the woman approached. With her hair put up to reveal the nape of her neck, an amethyst necklace at her throat, and a long flaxen dress, she was as graceful as an iris. Indeed, her beauty would not have been shamed even among the most renowned women of the palace. The intelligent smile at the corners of her mouth was as captivating as it had been in Saemgeuneul Castle.
“How?”
“I know this is not a place for a country girl like me. So I spent a little money. I am rich, you see.”
He did not know what she meant. As Gene understood it, after merchants stopped visiting because of the Jandana, Dalsad’s family had become so impoverished that they did not even have money to repair the outer castle they had burned. So he had thought he should at least obtain a subsidy for them when he returned to the capital, out of responsibility for having ordered it burned. But somehow, Dalsad had appeared in the capital wearing an expensive dress. Gene was about to ask what she meant again when he realized there was a question he ought to ask first.
“Wait. Don’t you have something to tell me? That night…”
“Is there something you are curious to ask me? But someone seems to be waiting for you, Your Highness.”
It was true. The attendant who had guided Gene was looking at him impatiently. Because Gene had remained in one place without moving throughout the banquet, this was an attendant sent by his father to have him make a circuit of the hall and look at the unmarried women. When Gene would not leave one woman, and an unexpected woman whose family he did not even know, the attendant was showing impatience. Gene shook his head.
“No. He can always wait. After I drank that liquor, I…”
“I think I can tell you about that in a more suitable place than here.”
When Gene tried to catch her wrist, Dalsad stepped lightly back, bowed, and quickly slipped in among the other women. Gene wanted to follow and catch her, but people, especially the women, were watching with eyes so curious they looked ready to die, and he could not bring himself to.
Yet in that instant, Gene’s head was filled with the image of the mysterious door he had seen in his dream. As he recalled that door, the anger and rebelliousness that had seized him only a moment earlier seemed to dry away like dew, and the cool mist of early winter seemed to come drifting toward him. A month had passed since the dream, yet the scene remained vivid. He wondered where it was. He wanted to know what it was. He wanted to go there. To do so, he had to hear Dalsad’s story. There was no one else he could ask.
After Gene left, Pallasos drank another cup of wine, then swept his gaze around the entrances. There were several, and she was indeed standing before one of them. A small girl hidden in shadow, ready to flee at any moment. When Pallasos rose to go toward her, the girl seemed to see something. Her face changed, and she stepped back and went outside. Pallasos followed her.
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