Unknown
Unknown.
Our little rascal — of course I have to take his side.
"What's there to be scared of with the Crown Prince? I'm not scared at all. You must be a real scaredy-cat."
At my words, Sa Young-joon's face twisted into an expression of profound injustice.
"I ain't scared, ma'am! Master even scolded me, saying a fella with an empty head has no room for fear to live in!"
That's basically a nasty insult. Why is he saying it so proudly?
Comparing him to this, Ansi suddenly seems brilliant. No wait — of course a hundred-and-fifty-three-year-old is smarter than a ten-year-old.
I racked my brain to make my argument as easy to understand as possible.
"Then there's even less reason for you to be scared of His Highness. It's not as if he goes out of his way to intimidate you."
"You mean His Highness has no intention of scaring me?"
"Of course not. Why would he frighten his milk-brother and sworn little brother? Isn't that right, Your Highness?"
I turned to the Crown Prince for backup. He had been wearing a rather complicated expression, but the moment our eyes met, he broke into a sunny smile.
"Of course, my lady. Young-joon, there's nothing to fear. Why would I frighten my own good little brother?"
"Your Highneeeess……!"
Sa Young-joon gazed up at the Crown Prince with glistening eyes. When the prince affectionately ruffled the boy's hair, he broke into a dopey grin at once.
Maybe being simple-minded is his virtue. It's kind of adorable.
I was watching him with fond amusement when Sa Young-joon, having exchanged a few words with the Crown Prince, came scampering over to me, seized both my hands in his, and began pumping them up and down with all his might.
"Thank you, Your Highness the Crown Princess! I almost got it into my head that His Highness was trying to scare me, but thanks to you, I see I was wrong! You're secretly a really good person, Your Highness, that you are!"
"Uh, um, right. Sure."
Behind this perfectly ordinary human boy, I could somehow imagine a puppy's tail whipping back and forth in frenzied delight. My hands, still trapped in his grip, seemed to be shaking just as hard.
I tried to subtly slip my hands free. Not a chance.
Wow, this kid is seriously strong.
I was resigned to being shaken around like a toy snatched up by an overexcited mutt when the Crown Prince, who had drawn near without my noticing, clamped a firm hand around Sa Young-joon's wrist and brought the motion to an abrupt stop.
"Young-joon."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
"You're supposed to be a good little brother, remember?"
"…Huh?"
The Crown Prince gently detached Sa Young-joon's hands from mine, then stepped in front of me, shielding me from view, and began lecturing the boy.
"Have you forgotten that she is the Crown Princess? She is not someone you may treat with such casual rudeness, as though she were one of your neighborhood friends."
"Huh? But I've been showing Her Highness every respect, that I have! I use polite speech and everything, and I call her 'Your Highness' every single time…… Gahk."
Sa Young-joon, mid-protest in bewilderment, looked up at the Crown Prince — and abruptly froze, stiff with alarm.
What's gotten into him? Did the Crown Prince do something?
But right now the prince was simply explaining, kindly and evenly.
"As they say, boys and girls should not sit together past the age of seven. You are no longer a toddling infant — you'll soon be a fine, upstanding man. You must never go grabbing the Crown Princess's hands without leave. Mind your manners and behave with proper courtesy at all times."
"Y-ye-yes, Your Highness. I-I-I'm s-sorry, Your Highness."
"Good, Young-joon. I have faith that you are a kind and clever brother."
"I'll b-be good!"
The Crown Prince hadn't exactly been throwing his weight around, and yet Sa Young-joon snapped to attention like a rigid army conscript and bellowed his reply.
…Is the Crown Prince actually intimidating him somehow?
Sensing something odd, I took a step forward to study his face, and the Crown Prince turned to me with the gentlest of expressions.
"Are you all right, my lady? Your hands, I mean. Young-joon is quite strong."
The boy lifted my hand lightly and turned it this way and that, examining it — his face, as always, composed and serene.
Why would anyone be scared of such a docile child? He wasn't even faking his smile back then.
…Ahh, I get it. The Crown Prince looks so composed and grown-up for his age that when he puts on a stern face, it must feel like being scolded by an adult. He really is remarkably mature.
I was nodding along to this theory in my head when Gi Ho-cheol entered the Gyebang. The moment he stepped onto the training grounds, he left the Crown Prince and his disciple standing and strode straight toward me with long, deliberate steps.
"Your Highness the Crown Princess."
"Yes, Master?"
"I fear I failed to properly account for the fact that Your Highness carries Seol blood. I cannot begin to guess what effect it might have on your constitution, so I believe it would be best for you to discontinue the breathing training altogether, if at all possible."
Gi Ho-cheol spoke with grave earnestness. I floundered and protested.
"But I didn't collapse because of the breathing training!"
"I've heard it said that what you suffered was something like the growing pains particular to the Seol people. Which means, in other words, that your constitution differs from an ordinary person's in all manner of ways. And that being so, it's only prudent to be careful with practices like breathing cultivation as well."
"But still…"
"Have I not told you that I hail from the Gi Spirit Sword Clan? Do you know anything of it, by chance?"
"No, not really."
"In Un it's a sword family of middling renown, but I suspected that would mean little to Your Highness."
Gi Ho-cheol scratched his shaggy head, his expression turning rueful, and went on.
"Until roughly a hundred years ago, the Gi Spirit Sword Clan was a very great house, and there were countless inheritors of its arts besides myself. But now all that remains is me… and Young-joon, who will be the next inheritor."
"…How did that come to pass?"
"There was a brutal war against a great yokai long ago. To fight that creature, a special tool was required — and in the desperate urgency of the moment, everyone wielded it without any proper testing or verification. Not one of them knew how ill it suited the Gi Spirit Sword arts."
"It didn't suit them?"
"No. It would take far too long to explain in detail. To put it simply: the deeper one cultivates the Gi Spirit Sword arts, the more one's constitution subtly changes — and that changed constitution clashed terribly with the tool's effects."
"Oh. The constitution, I see…"
"And the result… after the war ended, every survivor of the Gi Spirit Sword Clan was ravaged by cruel aftereffects. Only my great-grandmother, who was with child at the time and so never bore the gat, survived — and through her, the clan's line endured."
Hold on a moment.
A gat? Did he just say gat?
"So, Your Highness — a difference in constitution is a truly serious matter. Especially if that constitution has been altered by some special power or a technique one has learned, then you must be doubly cautious when encountering anything new. A mere tool was enough to drive an entire family to ruin, and there are constitutions for which foods that harm no one else act as deadly poison. Breathing training is naturally even more dangerous. And therefore—"
I cut across Gi Ho-cheol's unfolding stream of admonitions and asked hurriedly.
"Master — the tool you all used to fight that yokai. Was it a gat?"
"Because it reacts differently depending on one's constitution, you see—"
"The tool you had to use during that war against the yokai you just mentioned. Was it a gat?"
"Ah — yes. Yes, it was. That is why the war came to be called the Gat War."
From a completely unexpected quarter, a clue about the yokai in the palace had just tumbled into my lap.
That yokai — the one they said Kim Satgat's people fought — and this Gat War… they have to be connected, surely?
Blinking in astonishment, I hurried to speak.
"Could you tell me more about that war? In more detail?"
Gi Ho-cheol looked somewhat taken aback.
"It is hardly an entertaining tale, Your Highness. It was a war of the Gwoeryeoknansin — beings of monstrous might who stood far apart from court and commoner alike. Though victory was won in the end, the process was horrific and the outcome grisly. Hardly a fit story for a young Crown Princess to…"
"But it was a great event in the history of Un. I want to hear it."
"Hmm…"
As he hesitated, Gi Ho-cheol's gaze passed between the Crown Prince and Sa Young-joon, and then he turned to the prince with a question.
"And does Your Highness the Crown Prince know anything of the Gat War?"
"Only that it was a war fought some hundred years past, when the Gwoeryeoknansin rose against a great yokai, and that many branches and families of the Gwoeryeoknansin were lost to it."
The Crown Prince drew a steady breath and continued, calm and measured.
"My royal father taught me that because they shed their own blood instead of their people's to save the kingdom in that war, I must always hold the Gwoeryeoknansin who fought in the Gat War in gratitude, and treat their descendants with honor."
"…Truly a benevolent teaching. That he so sincerely understands the worth of blood shed in the shadows — that is precisely why the Gwoeryeoknansin give their loyalty to His Majesty."
"But Master, I have never yet been taught exactly what kind of war it was. The official histories do not record it in detail… and since Her Highness the Crown Princess has graciously opened the way, I would like to learn it properly as well. I beg you to teach us."
Wow, this Crown Prince — really. He's barely twelve and he carries himself like this.
No wonder Sa Young-joon keeps going on about how cool His Highness is.
The sight of the prince's upright, earnest bearing seemed to move Gi Ho-cheol deeply.
"Both Your Highnesses are so wise and deep of heart — truly, the future of Un shines bright."
"You flatter us."
"Then today we shall speak of the Gat War… Young-joon! Don't you dare think of slipping off to escape your studies — come here, properly."
As he moved toward the pavilion, Gi Ho-cheol's practiced hand snatched the back of the neck of his disciple, who had been edging conspicuously toward escape.
Hoisting his thoughtless young pupil along like a dangling pup, Gi Ho-cheol heaved one sigh after another.
"Honestly — what would it cost you to take after even one-one-one-hundredth of these two? I have grave doubts about whether I can in good conscience make you my inheritor as you are."
"A w-warrior only needs good strength, doesn't he? Why should I have to study on top of it?"
"If a man fills only his belly and leaves his head empty, how is he any different from a beast? I shall have to find you a separate tutor for proper learning, it seems."
"Huh? What's 'learning'? Is that how you raise sheep? Do I have to learn that too?"
"…I truly must find one as soon as possible. Truly."
Gritting his teeth, Gi Ho-cheol dragged Sa Young-joon by the collar and deposited him in the pavilion.
The Crown Prince and I, suppressing our laughter, followed the pair up into the pavilion and took our seats.