“Oneth upon a thime, in the greatest of all landths, there livethed a fine prince in his casthle...”

Chu Ga Eul looked on deadpanned, her bellowing little skirt spread across the floor just like her two legs.

“Modern-speak, Yi Jeong, modern-speak,” she demanded, impassively.

Dressed in his finest royalty wear, Yi Jeong swung his arms around, the large flaps of his sleeves sweeping the air around. He looked at the girl before him, aghast.

“How dareth you speaketh of such treachery?” He loudly exclaimed. With one hand, he propped up the crown that was slipping off his head. “Thy lord stands before thee, wishing to impart a story of tremendous knowledge! How dareth you demand such a lowly request, m’lady?!”

The forceful blustering from the sheer tiny one drew a small, stiff smile from the attendant standing behind the door.

Ga Eul looked at him with disinterest. She lamely blinked once. Twice.

“M’lady my foot,” she said. “More like you have a malady of the mind.”

 

So Yi Jeong grimaced and plopped himself upon the footstool he was standing on before. Pudgy little hands cupped his cheeks and his small little mouth pouted.

“Ga Eul, you are no fun,” he sulked. “You know that I speak like thith because of my missing front teeth.”

A mischievous glint returned to Ga Eul’s eyes and she smiled, ready to unleash another barrel of teasing.

“Why yes, Sir Toothless, please do go ahead,” she requested with all the mock reverence she could muster. To add insult, she got up and did a curtsy.

“Ooooh,” Yi Jeong began to yodel, “all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth, my TWO FRONT TEETH!”

“And then you’d be so very hap-py,” Ga Eul finished for him. “But I like you better like this! HAHAHHAHA!”

While the little girl rolled around and let out loud peals of laughter, the young boy sat on his footstool, poking the gums where his front teeth were supposed to be, wishing that they would just pop out already.

The makeshift tie-belt that held the front lapels of the magnificent Jeogori (outer jacket of a hanbok) that Yi Jeong was wearing began to give way and his outer jacket began to slip open, revealing his half- body. The young boy took no heed and his companion did not even notice, but the attendant behind the door stepped forward and retied the makeshift belt then returned to her position as before.

Yi Jeong pouted.

“Ga Eul ah, I want to thell you a story, are you going to listhen?” Yi Jeong asked.

The young girl of six hurriedly sat up and looked at her friend with rapt attention, her face home to a beaming wide smile and excited, curious eyes.

“Eo,” she agreed, bouncing slightly with the excessive energy that all young children seem to possess.

Yi Jeong wiggled in his seat and sat straighter, clearing his throat to seem a little more authoritative than he actually was.

“Onceth upon a thime, a long long thime ago, there lived a boy named Ttom Cantty  and the prince of England named Edward Tudor...”

So Yi Jeong got up, waving his arms around like a legitimate crown prince of ancient past and he instructed his young playmate to play along to the role of the pauper Tom Canty.

Yi Jeong took a few steps forward and nearly tripped over the hem of the oversized Jeogori but he righted himself instantly, with learned grace and ease. Ga Eul crouched beside the footstool, acting like a beggar, her small hands pushed outwards, as though waiting to receive.

The two young children began to create a world of their own, in which one envied the life of the other. With their imaginations, Tom’s Offal Court began to take shape. The beggar-child’s home sprung up in the middle of the wide bedroom, its dubious buildings rising tall and their rat infested wooden panes stood in stark contrast to the delicate patterns that adorned the room of its owner. In another corner, a castle was being built; large, solid stone walls formed in the middle of pillows and thick duvets.

The young prince met the pauper and clothes were exchanged. His Jeogori became her outer coat and her red jacket became his top.

Unbeknownst to the two, a frown came upon an attendant’s face.

She became the honoured Prince of England and he became a queer beggar with a royal tendencies. She went on to act learned and poised as per his instructions, complying a little too well to his requests. He went on to become pretend-kicked and pretend-chased by an invisible group of babarians

Their dream-land began to form a bubble that protected them from outside interference, their imagination and intensity became forces that repelled reality.

The misplaced king went through horrendous adventures in his quest to reinstate himself to his proper place and the royal imposer sat in her fortress of pillows and duvets, acclimatising to the puzzling ways of the royal court.

She was a fast learner, picking up propriety quickly and went through dinners and courtly responsibilities with perfect decorum. He had an intuitive mind that seemed to know the ways of the less-privileged well.

The change in position began to open the characters to new perspectives. Ga Eul sat before her prisoners of stuffed angry birds, listening to the stories of their horrible plight from Yi Jeong as he became the voices of his silent charges. As was her kind nature, Ga Eul wriggled in her seat, hotly demanding for her meanest subjects to be let off from their baseless charges.

Soon came the time when the pauper-turned-king met the prince-turned-pauper. Identities were set straight, clothes were returned and she became the child beggar again. He took his rightful seat in his house of sleeping aids.

Yi Jeong spread his arms wide, the large sleeve of his Jeogori highlighting his movements as he began to address the imaginary crowd. Ga Eul sat before him, looking up at her Oppa with something resembling reverence and respect, as one would give to a worthy king.

The rightful King began to open his mouth when the great oak doors suddenly opened and their self-made world burst immediately, Offal Court finally crumbled to dust and the solid foundation of the castle turned soft and white. Yi Jeong scrambled off the bed and tripped over the oversized Jeogori in his haste, hitting the carpeted floor with the side of his arm. GaEul turned around and stood before her playmate, arms slightly apart, her stance protecting but her face showing the classic signs of fear.

A tall scrawny woman marched through the door, obviously livid, with her frowns and down-turned lips. She took her daughter aside and ripped the Jeogori off the rich-wannabe.

Ga Eul yelped, pushing her mother away, struggling to get close to her insulted friend but her childish attempts were no match to grown-up strength.

The attendant grabbed Yi Jeong’s clothes and held her boy close, hoping to dampen his humiliation with her embrace.

“How dare you even step up the second level of this house?!” the rich lady decked out in fine jewels spat. “Who are you to put on my son’s clothing, who are you to speak with my daughter? You poor things, how dare you even think of playing with my daughter? She is the heiress to the Chu Group, the richest child in all of Korea and what are you?”

Yi Jeong’s mother clothed her sobbing son and held him close. Bowing her apologies, she carried him out wordlessly and downstairs to the rooms where the servants slept.

Ga Eul cried in frustration and her mother only glared at her in warning. Ga Eul shut up.

She was the real, trapped princess of Korea and he was the lowly pauper in her land.

 

“Don’t blow off another’s candle, for it won’t make yours shine brighter.”

It was a sentence that Yi Jeong had uttered with confused firmness during his storytelling. Young as they were, both children did not understand what it meant. Yet, with all their ignorance, they were the ones who exemplified it the most.

To Ga Eul, he was equal to her. Even if he was a little older and a little more experienced and even after being constantly told that she was better than him, she never once belittled him, for she knew that she was brilliant in her own right.

To Yi Jeong, even though she was the family’s young lady and of much higher standing than him, he never once avoided or sneered at her for being rich and different. He was brilliant in his own right and he did not need to alienate her to feel that.

Yet, in the weird world of adults, they were all in a constant battle to one-up each other and would rip each other apart to be the best and last one standing.

And sadly, Yi Jeong’s innocence was being chipped away with each insult. For her mother to feel better about herself he was losing his self-esteem and he was beginning to learn and retaliate against Ga Eul. Unconsciously, Ga Eul was also learning. She had begun to look down upon cheap things.

 

 

 

GaEul wiped a tear on her cheek. She reached under her bed and pulled out a box of handmade cookies. It was a Christmas gift from her previous nanny. She took it and walked down the stairs.

 Luckily, some things aren’t learnt that fast.