When the cheers subsided, Jae Joong announced the next part of the program. The time for the appreciation of traditional entertainment art. The first performers turned the whole palace upside-down. A group of mixed hwarangs carried out their month-long rehearsed stunts, which not only included the usual kicks and bricks, but also their swords, knives, and the star of their performance—fire! Within the ten-minute routine, the audience held their breaths, watching them form the tallest pyramid, men tossing and rolling themselves mid-air. Then hurl knives to one another as if there was a war, and swing, spin, and whirl ropes with blazing fires for their final act. Applause! Woo-hoo! Beat that, they said.

As the emotions and blood pressures were heightened, the next entertainers, which consisted of hwarangs and courtesans, staged an emotional and heart-warming tableau of the journey of life. From the typical boy meets girl that escalated to marriage, then the ever-harrowing yet electrifying process of giving birth (which was done behind the big rectangular satin cloths, manipulating people's eyes with shadow movements. Fantastic!), nurturing the young, and up to the part where the son needed to go to the war and serve the King. The secret to the effective deliverance lay not only with the acting and graceful body movements but also with the accompaniment of the riveting musical ensemble. The throbbing drums when the scene was suspenseful (dugudum-dugudum), the poetic, silvery, harmonies of the flutes and harps when everything seemed to be tranquil, and the mischievous banters of the chimes when the whole sequence was comedic. At the end of the performance, as they bowed before the spectators, no one dared to raise an arm and clap. Pure cries and sobs. Hu-hu-hu. Somehow, it brought back the viewers' wonderful memories with either of their late mothers, fathers, or children. A good reminder that they would see each other again one fine day.

It took some time before the next performers rushed to the center because the entire crowd was literally flooded with tears. Moving on, when all were ready, the musicians stole their hearts with the whimsical polyphony of their instruments. Starting with the thunders of the Buk drums, scholars, sons of nobles, marched to their arena and performed with their string instruments. For that allowed five minutes, the honored audience indulged into the depths of another refreshing universe, their feet fleeting and floating into the cottony clouds. All had smiles on their faces.

Last, but definitely, not the least (oh, cliche), the bearer of all the pressures tossed by the preceding performers. A troupe of beautiful, elegant masked courtesans, dressed in bright pink hanboks, hairs tied into an ornate bun on top of their heads, enhanced by glimmering hair ornaments, paraded to the center and bowed before the Prince and the Princess. Upon the first strum of the geomungo, the ladies danced like cranes, circling freely. Their long, wide sleeves rustled in the cool wind. Spring fountains pranced and pirouetted, epitomizing the term grace to its maximum. They formed complex formations like flowers, trees, and even animals with flair and passion (though this sequence was mostly appreciated by the hwarangs posted on balconies).

After the last performance, the courtesans curtsied, and the crowd went crazy. Screams, howls, and even whistles.

Jae Joong seized the moment, ending the acts formally. "Thank you! Thank you, everyone! Now it is my utmost regret to inform you that that was the last act for tonight, for the Prince and the Princess shall take separate ways until the hour of their nuptials. In the meantime, more food will be served and you could roam freely around the art exhibits. Good night, everyone!"

As the river of people branched to different paths, another loud bang of the drum caught their attention. They stopped on their tracks and turned around, only to find out a swarm of masked courtesans buzzing around the Prince, throwing their hands into the air, vocalizing like mountain fairies. All were shocked, but more confused—or dazzled. Was that another act? Jae Joong called the Prince's special hwarangs, who were standing below the dais.

"What in the world is happening?"

While he was busy, he did not notice the Prime Minister who had gone up the stage. Jung Ho studied the weird scenario as a frown painted on his face. "What is happening, Your Majesty? I was at our house preparing for the wedding ceremony, and I came here to this?"

Jae Joong gave a side glance and murmured. "I honestly don't have any idea." His irises rolled, affixed to the ongoing ritual.

"The Prince is hard to calculate sometimes. But whatever it is, we have to make sure that the wedding pushes through."

The King broke free from the spell and turned to his brother, his voice returned to its dark, shady tone. "But of course."

Jung Ho nodded and smirked, "Let's just assume that this is his way to enjoy the last minutes of his bachelor life."

"That's exactly what I am thinking."

"If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty. I have to brief my daughter. She, too, has a lot of rituals to do before the ceremony."

"So, how's your house? Everything done?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The venue is more than perfect. The Head Priestess is with her shrine maidens. The drum players and the ginyeos with their embellished hanbok and huge, pink feathered fans are more than ready for the dance of abundance. Those people are passionate about their craft. Damn! If only I could do one of those things, I would be a perfect package." Jung Ho teased and chuckled. "I better get going, Sire."

Surrounded by the worshiping nightingales, The Prince started strolling down the dais, the people moving away. His arms spread, eyes closed while savoring the flowery fragrance of the spinning female chicks. The voices became louder and richer as they paraded down the courtyard.

Ah ah ah ah... Ooh ooh ooh ooh... eh eh.

Ah ah ah ah... Oooh ooh ooh ohh... eh eh.

People noticed their arm hairs rising, sending shivers down their spines. With all the strange commotion that happened, one thing was for sure: the ever valor of Sae Joo's special force. They followed him from behind to wherever it would stop.

In the name of all special gods and goddesses, the Prince and his fairies retired in a small, commoner house, enclosed with a small thigh-level fence—a few meters outside the palace from the northeast gate. As the song reached its climax, the dancers opened the door, and dragged the Prince inside, with his eyes still closed, and banged the door close. The special army environed the house, like true leukocytes engulfing their target foreign body.

After some time, the song stopped, and it fell quiet as the midnight sun. The curious nangdos, especially Shun, leaned their heads on the walls, trying to scoop any sounds.

Dead. Bleak. Nothing.

All of them had their own levels of urge to shove the door and check what was happening. Pointing out to each other. You do it. No, you do it. Hey, Shun, you're the one closest to the Prince. You open it. Crazy bastards! You still want your head? The arguing stopped when they suddenly heard a pitchy squeal, followed by loud moans. If these entertainers were in their modest behaviors when they were out in the public, the more they would unleash their inner coquetry and seducing skills to take home a man's seed, especially the Prince's. Anything was possible inside that ecstatic den. Any woman could turn into an opportunistic hawk if given a chance to touch a fragile royal. After a couple of days, a new Prince might come out, but not on the level of being a Seonggol, but a dirty product of an hour of lecherous intoxication. Then there would be chaos.

For that moment, Shun felt his ears numb, his gut turned. Revolting images ran across his head. That the Prince was currently using his weapon to satisfy himself and succumb to the gods of lust. His desire to barge in was slowly reaching its summit, if not only it would be deemed as insubordination and pure treason of the Prince's privacy.

"Hey guys, this is not the way we expected things to happen, isn't it?" Shun started.

A purple ivy answered, "Because he was known to be repulsive to women?"

"You ought to clear out that misinterpretation of yours. For the record, he loves women, but he tries not to entangle with the promiscuous ones. He believes that women should respect their bodies and their virtues as a person. Something about this ritual thing screams off to me," defended Shun.

"Maybe he wants to let go of his presumptions and explore the wonders of a woman's body. He's going to be a father, anytime soon he marries. By the time he does make love with his wife or any other woman in the kingdom, he'd be prepared. Why is this even a big deal to you? He's a man, remember? Not a child!"

"That's not how the Prince learns things. Reckless experimentations are definitely off his list. He doesn't consider uncalculated risks... And this? Playing and fooling around with whores is not the true manifestation of his character. I sense something odious with this whole situation. "

Another one butted it. A red dragon. "So do I with you. What makes you think that this is considered an uncalculated risk? Knowing that he considers you as a precious friend, I am shocked that you truly assume that he's enjoying himself in sexual activities as of this moment. What if those moans and howls were just for playful purposes? Let's simmer down, and don't get ahead of ourselves. What he's doing is not alarming, considering his security. Besides, whatever he does is his business. Our job is to make sure that he's safe and can make it to his wedding. His moral decisions are not in our scope of work. He's bound to do it when he becomes King. That purple yam is right. Either for practice or just for fun, we don't know, and we shouldn't interfere."

Shun vented out a cold sigh. Jabbed right in the center of his nose. He assessed his colleagues' argument towards Sae Joo's inevitable reconstruction. In the most understandable way possible, the Prince's bodyguard was in-denial and skeptical that his best friend would undergo alterations in personalities drastically. That the Prince would evolve and not remain as the companion he had known for years. The crybaby, insecure, and glass-like boy whom he had comforted a thousand times would disappear, only to live and thrive in never-ending archives of his active memories. For him, it was a ludicrous and heartbreaking thing to ponder about.

Sae Joo had always believed in the classic saying: Slowly but surely. The center of his perpetual mantra. He lived by it. Almost all of his actions had depended on it. For him to embrace a new radical idea (such as politics), he would dedicate hours and hours of his precious time to prepare to seep the concept into his system and learn the dynamics and all of its angles. Nothing from his decisions had happened overnight (or not). Perhaps this night was his way to turn his life switch off for a moment and resort to being the opposite of whom he was. Do something rigorous. Splurge, binge—before he dives into the adventurous yet daunting world of marriage.

The transition to being a husband was bound to require hundreds of convoluted transformations, with each checkpoint, providing unexpected changes. Some could come back and correct their mistakes; some were just unfortunate to walk with injured legs and face what has been done. Being the better half was not just a regular metamorphosis that butterflies undergo from their hideous mummified stage up to their classy, lovable, and quintessential beauty identities. To be a good husband and future king spelled self-sacrifice and vigilance (not just for the people around you, but mostly, for yourself). For that to happen, the Prince should start with his physical attributes. Then everything would follow.

Shun's fire had run down, and the steam was vanishing into the air. As long as the Prince was safe, he could settle.

A shrill sound of broken glass caught the hwarangs' attention again. Shun stood by the door and asked, "Is everything okay, Your Highness?"

They heard the Prince's muffled typical bubblegum voice. "Yes, I'm fine." Then footsteps closing in.

The door opened, showing the true happening inside the pleasure dome. It crashed and shattered all their naughty imaginations. Sae Joo, cheeks frenzied pink, slanted on the door, crossed-legs. Behind him was a pretty decent, yet exciting drinking party. Flickering, dim lights from the lamps. A big table filled with tongue-sweating food, and of course, lots of liquors. However, as Shun moved his head further, the sight thickened: Flipped cups, spilled drinks, and scattered food, dressing, and sauces, either on the walls, the floor, or the table itself.

The poised, opulent ladies? There—still fully dressed though (thank Heavens!), but too drunk to realize that they had lain down on the floor, with freshly-erupted, stinking pukes entangling on their hairs. Savage girls dancing and reeling down the floor to scoop another batch of drink from the barrels on the corner. Singing (bellowing) off-key notes while vigorously strumming their kayagums. Because of their great fine friend, named wine, all of their dignities and refinement had volatilized from their heads.

Sae Joo grabbed Shun's hand and dragged him inside. The other nangdos watched them from the outside, waiting for a plot twist. The bodyguard, as calmly as possible, removed the Prince's grip and said, "Your Highness, I know what you're doing. I do understand, but don't you think this is too much? Look around you. Undeniably, your party is an animal battleground."

The Prince cupped his face with both hands and pulled it closer. Forehead to forehead. "Shun, my best friend, my only friend in the world!" He shrieked and entwined his arms around the nangdo's neck, before pressing his red lips against Shun's cheeks. Then he whispered, "No, you don't know what I'm doing." His voice croak and wobbly.

Shun grimaced, his fingers shaking. Nose wrinkled as he pushed the Prince. "Your Highness, you reek of alcohol. You can't attend the wedding with this condition! Can you even walk a straight line for three seconds?"

"Are you challenging me?" Sae Joo laughed. He stood straight and shook his head, clearing his vision. "Here, I'll show you. I am not... I am not drunk! Ha!" Like a peafowl, flaunting and shaking its colorful feathers, he ambled forward, hands on his waist. His lips curled up in a satirized I-did-it-sucker grin. "See? I am a well-functioning young man ready to surrender to the faulty, miserable, and pressured married life!"

"Okay, fine. Suppose that you can walk all the way to your uncle's house for your wedding, would you face everyone like that? Look at you, your hair is messed up, your clothes are stained. You're dirty."

"Does that even matter?" Sae Joo scoffed. "Even if I wear garbage, they'll just laugh at me for a second and pretend they didn't see anything. The wedding will still push through. Can't you see? My presence is all that matters. Huh, who are they to complain? I can take their offices away from them if I want to."

Shun loured, his blood sprinted to his sullen face. "What are you saying, Your Highness? Since when did you start acting like a brat? Like you own people? Oh, I think I know! I suppose this is what alcohol does to you. You become shallow, you plunge into mediocrity, you become thoughtless. You become—"

"—I have become free!" the Prince cut in.

Shun sighed. "This is not what freedom is about. Freedom is only exercised when you do the right things. What you're doing is abuse. The highest form of mutilation and disrespect. You're destroying yourself. Don't you realize that?"

Sae Joo glared. A smoky venom ejected. "I shall reinstate what I said a while ago. You don't know what I'm doing. You don't know because you've never experienced it... Now, if you don't intend to drink with me while I enjoy the last moments of my precious life, you better get out and do your boring job, because my golden time is running." He turned around and cling to one of his girls, and they twirled and pranced together like they were in an endless plain.

Shun groaned and scratched his head. A swing of frustration and disappointment clobbered his face as he walked away and shut the door. He returned to his post like nothing depressing had happened. Professional Shun ready to continue his sworn duty. Who am I to argue? At the end of the day, I'm just a mere nangdo. Alright, if you want to get wasted, then gulp all those liquors, dance with those filthy self-declared angels, and attend your wedding like a damn fool so that people will think that their Prince is nothing but a self-learned drunkard loser.

His colleagues were in their positions, quiet yet alert and vigilant when he suddenly blurted. "You folks were all right. He's fine. Never better. We are assigned here to do our jobs. Nothing more, nothing less. Let the Prince have fun. When we hand him to the Prime Minister's house for his wedding, our jobs end."

A deafening silence lasted for thirty more minutes. Has the wild party turned into a prayer meeting? They heard the door open once again, alerting them. The courtesans, with their full masks on, exited—drained, exhausted, and loaded.

Shun asked, "You're leaving? How's the Prince?"

Their leader answered. Pink rabbit head in a red hanbok. "Let him catch a few naps, darling. A palace official shall be on his way to fetch His Highness. Don't disturb him."

"Where are you going?"

"Going home, obviously. It's been a rough night. The Prince was so much fun to play with," a black sheep butted in.

"Do you mind if some of us walk you home?"

"Thanks, but no, thanks. We'll be fine. Bye, boys." The leader turned to her minions. "Let's go, girls."

The ladies deliberately slowed down their paces, catching up their last glimpses of the soldier's rock hard bodies. Some even stole a stroke on their chests as they giggled. A yellow pig in pink hanbok ran her fingers along Shun's lips, which left the nangdo dumbfounded.

"Come on, quit it!" scolded their matron, and the girls scampered away. When the last one of them had disappeared, a yellow tiger colleague teased Shun. "She likes you! Touching your lips like that. Man! I wish someone could also do that to me."

"Stop! It's disgusting."

"You know, the Prince is right. Don't be too serious. If not for this job, I would've taken three of them home."

Shun tittered. "Three? What are you going to do with the other two?"

"Ha-ha! Don't ask."

"You're full of crap. Go back to your post. If a palace official sees us chatting, we're dead."

"Okay. But remember—" the nangdo walked backward to the corner of the house. His hands raised, flashing a number three sign.

Not more than twenty minutes later, a palace eunuch arrived. He jumped from his horse and dashed inside the compound, sweating and panting like a dog. "Where's the Prince? The wedding starts in thirty minutes! He shouldn't be late. We're catching the midnight moon!"

Shun welcomed and bowed before him, "Oh, he's inside. Catching some sleep. I'll wake him up."

The eunuch was stomping his foot and exclaimed, "Sleep? Hurry, wake him up!"

Shun ran inside the house. The lamps had died out. Good thing a coruscating torch on the corner, above a wine barrel, illuminated the Prince's figure like a searchlight from a spaceship as it dropped an alien. The Prince was lying on the floor, face down.

"Great. Taking a nap, huh? He's practically dead asleep!"

The bodyguard moved closer, crouched, and tapped the Prince's shoulder. "Your Highness? Your Highness? The eunuch is here. We need to go."

Upon the slightest twitch of Sae Joo's arm, Shun held his head, supported his back, and flipped him.

He gasped; the air has dried out. His color drained upon seeing a terrifying image. His lips trembled, trying to make a horrifying scream.

"So-somebody! Anybody! Heeeeeelp!" 

__________

NOTES:

Buk (북) - a shallow, barrel-shaped drum covered with animal skin on the ends of its round, wooden body.