A Prince, Pepper Vines, and a Proposal a Year in the Making
Marry? Me?
The verdict I had delivered at the tribunal spread across the entire country in the blink of an eye. The sentence had been brutal, after all. At the very least, narcotics offenses and rape were now being punished with extreme severity, which suited me just fine. Some of my judges were handing down sentences even harsher than the ones I'd called for.
Anyway.
"A guest?"
"Yes. A prince, from the Western Empire."
Is this lunatic serious? It took him a YEAR to get here.
"Why is he here?"
"Well, you see..."
"Hmm? Out with it."
"Statues and portraits of you, Haneul-nim, found their way over there, and he's come because he wants you as his bride."
"Is this guy insane?"
"Pardon?"
Oh great, my thoughts are leaking out of my mouth again. What is wrong with me? If HE takes me as his bride, does that mean I have to marry him?
"Just tell him I'm not around. Say I'm out and about."
"You were outside walking around. He's already seen you."
"Oh, for f—"
"Pardon?"
Rough thoughts keep slipping out. Should I go on a temple retreat? Wait, this IS a temple...
Hold on a second. Now that I look at this guy—why is he pushing the guest off on ME? He should be handling hospitality himself, no?
"You handle it yourself."
"Um..."
Why is he trailing off like he's nervous?
"Hey?"
"He's already at the door."
Is he kidding me? This is my inner sanctum—my own bedroom, technically—and people are being let in without the owner's permission?
"That's absurd! Just send him away!"
"That's also..."
"?"
"He's quite clever. He picked up Hangul in no time."
What a piece of work, honestly. Guess Hangul was too easy for him.
"Fine. Have tea with him, sweet-talk him, and send him home."
"Heh heh heh..."
"Don't laugh. You're getting attached."
"Yes, ma'am."
Let's at least see what kind of man this is. Never a dull moment around here.
In the end, I had no choice but to let the man into my chambers.
That brown skin—was that a Middle Eastern trait? It looked similar to the complexion I'd seen on television. He was shorter than my people, but taller than me. Damn it all.
He looked young, so why on earth was his beard that long? The hooked nose was as prominent as ever.
And what was with that LEGO-block hair? A wig? On top of that, gold rings, bracelets, earrings—the whole set. Didn't all that weigh him down? Just looking at him made my head spin.
"..."
This absolute—he glances at my head secretary's chest, then at mine, and compares them? Should I kill him? He's not seriously thinking of pushing a supply line all the way here, is he? He couldn't even maintain one.
"..."
"Ah! My apologies. I was, er..."
Yes, you committed an enormous offense. Now you finally look at my face? Chest-worshipping bastard. My face beats hers by a mile, obviously. Taken as a whole, it's not even a contest, you fool.
"You are... truly beautiful. I wish to take you as my bride!"
"Pfft... cough. Cough."
Does he actually think this is a marriage interview?
"Will your maids be coming along as well?"
Is this guy serious? He's openly announcing he intends to take both of us at once?
"This is just a reception. A greeting."
"Then what of the marriage?"
"Not happening."
"Why not?"
Talking back? He's begging for a smack.
"I'm someone important here. I can't go far away. Are you planning to live here?"
"Yes."
Right. You're a prince too—you should go back to your own country, no...? Hm? Did I mishear that?
"Pardon?"
"I shall live here."
"Why would you live in someone else's country?"
"If only I can be with you, I can cast away anything!"
What kind of nonsense is that? Ugh, my head's spinning. This age of barbarism—modern common sense counts for absolutely nothing here...
"Hoo... stay a while, then go home."
"I—I have brought a precious gift!"
"What is it?"
"Bring it in!"
Four wooden trees were carefully brought into the room.
"What kind of trees are these?"
"Not the trees—the vines growing on them. You don't recognize it? It bears fruit like this."
"Huh?"
Those little black-and-white speckled seeds... where have I seen them before?
"Sniff. Sniff. Oh!"
One whiff and I knew. This is pepper, isn't it? How on earth did he bring it here?
"How did you manage this?"
"They all died. Only four survived."
So they have at least some cold resistance, then? They're a tropical crop, no matter how you slice it...
"I truly believed they had all perished, but by the grace of the gods, when we arrived here, four had lived."
"Incredible."
"Pardon?"
So the potatoes growing through winter weren't about the potatoes at all—it was the influence of our World Tree? And the trees here grow absurdly fast too...
Tropical crops growing in a continental climate like this? Unbelievable...
"Wow... amazing! Thank you so much!"
"Ahaha. So... about that marriage?"
I was so delighted that I gave him a hug, and his face immediately flushed red.
"You've given me something precious, so I should give you a gift in return. Is there anything you'd like?"
The marriage proposal got auto-filtered straight out of my ears.
"Let us marry."
"..."
"Marriage..."
"Any gift you want?"
This fool. He's a blockhead, a man of exactly one setting. Say something ELSE. Go pick a bride from those ladies over there.
"Let's talk about it another time. I have urgent business today."
"Ah... very well."
Wait. This guy. His 'gift'... he's trying to take it back?
"Hand it over."
"Hmmm..."
Smack.
I just took it. With telekinesis, no one can out-muscle me.
"Gah."
No way you're taking a Daehan bride, buddy. Are you that weak? Or maybe... it might stoke a little maternal instinct?
Anyway, this guy isn't what matters. Let's grow some pepper!
"Ganul! Head Secretary Ganul!"
"Yes? What's the rush? Was that man making unwanted advances?"
She'd been out of the room during our conversation. That's why she hadn't seen the pepper.
"Take that plant and have it cultivated, quickly! Something incredibly valuable just arrived as a gift!"
"What is it?"
"Pepper!"
"Huh? That thing you're always singing about?"
"That's the one!"
Forget the Steppe Road—we don't need any of it now. But wait? Wars have been fought over pepper. Surely this won't cause anything like that?
Right, exactly. That was a matter tangled up with religion? We'll be fine.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Aja!"
"I truly cannot best you."
Yes! I finally found a workout partner! This delicate little thing loses to even ME. Muahaha!
It was the first time in my life I'd ever beaten anyone at badminton.
"You really ought to exercise more, Your Highness?"
"Hah... hah... You don't seem the least bit winded?"
I do breathe, but no matter how much I move, I never get drenched in sweat like that~ Is that cheating?
One thing was certain: in the future, if I ever exercised, I should do it with people from other countries. Strength really is the problem. Strength. That's the only thing I'm missing.
"By the way, Your Highness, you're really not going back? Truly?"
"Where would I go, without you?"
He says the words, but I don't feel any soul behind them.
"It's a no from me either way. Give up and go propose to someone else."
"Your head secretary turned me down as well."
This guy? He really has been probing everywhere he can, hasn't he?
"You're a prince, though. Is it all right to be away from your post this long?"
I'd always wondered about this. Does his place in the line of succession drop? Is that why these marriage alliances are even a thing?
"One of my brothers will become king, I suppose."
"You don't want to be king?"
"I have no wish to fight my brothers for it."
A pacifist, then? How romantic. He'd make a good king in peacetime—but who knows about the temperament of his homeland.
He didn't seem like a bad sort, so I decided to offer a bit of advice.
"Think about your people, not your brothers."
"People? You mean the common folk?"
"If a cruel brother or a foolish one takes the throne, won't the people suffer terribly?"
"Hmm. I do have such brothers, but what can the common folk do about it? Their station is what it is."
This is exactly why class societies built on privilege are such a blight.
"What did you make of our city?"
"It overflowed with happiness and joy."
His eyes are going distant just imagining it. Looks like he's a little envious?
"It's a lovely sight, isn't it?"
"It is."
"The common folk are people too. They want joy and happiness. Shouldn't a king help them achieve it?"
"Hm? The king should?"
"Yes. That's what the high seat is FOR—to look down kindly upon those beneath you."
Time to inject just a little humanism. Maybe that neck of the woods will become a bit more livable too.
"A seat for gazing down from somewhere even higher..."
"You'll have a great deal to ponder. It's rather different from everything you've believed until now, isn't it?"
"Hmm..."
Looks like he has plenty to think about. I should call it a day. This kind of thing requires time alone.
He must have been genuinely deep in thought, because months passed without the prince appearing once.
"I am grateful to you."
His face was drawn from all the deliberation, but his eyes had grown clear. Had he reached some resolution of his own?
"It seems you're leaving?"
"How did you know?"
Whoosh. Tap.
I figured I'd give him a bit of a show, so I floated up and landed right in front of him.
"Gah!"
"You can't go telling anyone about this, all right? There will be consequences."
"Ah... understood."
He's really shaken. Is he going to be okay?
"So that's why I thought you were so impossibly beautiful. Forgive my many improprieties."
"Oh, think nothing of it. Hoho."
He called me pretty, so I'll let it slide. My mood's good.
"I've prepared gifts for you. Follow me out."
He gave me pepper, so I couldn't send him off empty-handed. And so I prepared it—the thing written as 'our gift' and read aloud as 'trade goods.'
"These bowls kill harmful things in your body. Especially if the surface turns black, there may be poison present."
"There exists... such a thing? Truly a city where gods dwell!"
"It's a secret, remember?"
This guy's mouth is a bit loose, though? Well, in a few years it'll fade into urban-legend territory. There's no internet here, after all.
"This is silk. Soft, isn't it?"
"Oh! Silk? I've always wondered about it. Nothing has ever felt so soft."
They seem to wear wool and fabrics of unknown origin. Having now touched silk once, they'll be lining up to buy it.
"And these are weapons. Distribute them among your soldiers."
I handed over a number of iron weapons. It's not as if seeing them would let anyone replicate them, and his royal guard had come along in considerable numbers—someone ought to be able to protect him, after all.
"What is this? It's too dull to be silver?"
Has he never seen iron before? Comparing it to silver, of all things...
"It's called iron."
"So metals come in many varieties, then?"
"It's vastly superior to what your soldiers are carrying now. It'll serve you well."
"My sincerest thanks."
"I hope you become a good king."
He does seem a bit partial to women, but if he's a good man, that's fine too.
"Ah. And one final gift."
I held out the bottle containing that... suspicious something.
"What is this?"
How am I supposed to tell him it's my saliva...
"Holy Water. That's what we call it. It will heal wounds and cure illness. Mix it with water before use."
Pop.
"Mmm? A lovely fragrance."
He's uncorking it HERE and sniffing it? My conscience stings. The monk Wonhyo supposedly gulped down that skull water nice and refreshingly too, after all. As long as I don't say it out loud, it's fine. What I don't announce, nobody knows.
"I shall treasure this bond made at the very edge of your lands."
"Yes. As will I."
Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble.
In the distance—chariots with two wheels, the kind I'd only ever seen in movies, and hundreds of soldiers marching in perfect formation. The prince of the western civilization, who had traveled all this way to propose marriage, departed just like that.
Carrying a bronze bowl, silk, weapons, and a single bottle of Holy Water.
"Huh? Wait, where exactly are those guys from? I never asked even once..."
By his looks, Middle Eastern. Mesopotamia, maybe? Egypt? Weren't those places roughly in their own warring-states era around now?
Hey, Prince? By the time you get home, won't your country be gone?
A year to come, a year staying here, a year to go back. Hmm? Three years should be fine, right?
Go live well, and please never come back.
"But seriously, however much he hated the succession struggle—to travel a whole year over a marriage proposal? Is that guy genuinely insane?"
Every other part of him seemed kind enough. Surely I hadn't just lured a nonexistent madman into taking a throne...