Wang Eun

His limbs are riddled with ache. Strained muscles sit on his shoulders. Outside the leaves’ hue fades into different shades of orange. Warmth in the air no longer constant throughout the day.  Autumn’s about to end. Daena, the final Narye rite is upon them. Eun dreads the few tense weeks to come.

As such it falls to the shoulders to the emperor’s sons. Not just any of twenty-five sons. Only selected ones. Mothers who came from prestigious lineages. Sons of his father’s queens. Much like Eun himself.

“Hurry, let’s go,” he calls. Eager to dip himself into the water first. He’s far ahead of his brothers, of all he shared the blood of Wang Geon with. Temperate waters of the bathhouse will cure him from his suffering.

Light footsteps tap against the floor, trailing after Eun. Third son to the third queen, Wang Jung. The fourteenth prince replies, “All right, I’m coming.”

Eun jumps into the water, spreads his arms wide. Icy cold water prickles his skin, his undergarment all heavy and soaked. His lips splitting into a wide grin. Pleasure at the tips of his fingers. Luxuries only the blood of Wang Geon have the privilege of tasting.

Jung sheds his robe, pride gleaming in his wide smile, as he shows the muscles Eun lacks of. A body toned by his constant rumble and tumble in mud, than to spend a day in class. Small dark eyes in shape of thin almond, over straight nose and fat lips. It’s generous enough Eun thinks Jung resembles a monkey greatly.

“Jung,” Eun yells.

He replies in sweet mockery, “Brother!”

Yo, his second oldest brother, stays seated by the pool’s edges. He takes a sip of his tea, his snake-like eyes ever watchful on them both. There has not a day passes Eun where Yo wears a proper smile. There’s something in the way his lips curl that reminds Eun of a snarl. Mostly, Eun sees Yo’s grin. And Eun rather see a grin graces his lips than that not-quite of a smile.

Eun’s distracted when Jung ambushes him. Splashing cold water repeatedly at his face. Eun thinks he may accidentally drink some of it. Disgusting.

Wook, goes by Baek Ah as he’s the second of his name, eyes them both with a large grin. Baek Ah stands at half an inch taller than Jung, similarly built. His face’s narrower, almost feminine. Looks that the womenfolk takes a great shine on. But the truth Eun knows, Baek Ah’s nowhere beautiful as Eun is.

The elder Wook enters the bathhouse.

Wook’s face is angular, with features of lenient expressions. Dark eyes that droops, like sleepiness is a state he’s perpetually settles in. Eun finds it a contradicting hilarity. That the smartest brother of all his brothers, born to a pair of eyes of a man plagued by imminent slumber.

His robe barely hanging onto muscular physique. Wook’s modest. Covers his sculptured abdomen. Bodies of his and Yo shaped by the many rites they’re destined to perform. Eun sees those peculiar looks palace maids toss at their direction in utmost discretion.

Won’s the exception among all the princes here. For his mother is a grand lady, not a queen. He’s not much older than Eun. Bears a striking resemblance to Yo than Jung does, with high cheekbones. His foxy eyes, dark brown like wood, in which mischief twinkles. Still Won is far friendlier than Yo is. Less scary too.

Wang Won does what Wang Won does. Trains his body in a place where one is supposed to relax. Eun supposes, Won has nothing better to do.

“Brother, feel this,” Won flexes his biceps, showing them off to Yo, “Do you see this definition here?”

Yo laughs, amused. Is it a snort? It doesn’t matter which. It’s laughable. Because Won still has a long way to catch up with Yo’s body toned by many conquests and regular training.

They swim around the outer pool. The coldness slowly spreading numbers in his little toes. His body shivers at the slight breeze, “Jung, I’ll be going now.” 

Jung whines, “Eun, wait for me.”

Jung and whining are inseparable as Jung with his love for rough activities.  

He gets out from the outer pool, threading back to the inner pool. Eun presses a finger to his lips. Jung’s lips twists into an understanding smile. They sink together and deeper into the embrace of warm water. It feels like a mother’s hug.

A palace maid makes another mistake. Minor really. Nonetheless, anything minor is hazardously criminal in Yo’s view. Eun wonders, what thoughts rapidly forming within his older brother’s mind. Whatever it may be. A shiver runs up his spine.  

Yo’s jaw tautens. Barely a crease settles in between his brows.

Countless rumours floating like wildfire, on the fates of those who incited his brother’s fiery temper. The abundance of horror stories is not lost on the servants, and so fear spreads among the servants, like an invisible disease.

Yo only smiled a calculating gaze, when Eun asked of their punishment. For a maid that spilt not more than a drop of soju on his cloak.

“It is be fitting of the crime,” Yo replied, and never elaborated further on his words.

Yo raises a hand high up, about to bring it down—

“Brother,” Wook intones, soft but stern. A restrained sigh escapes from his lips. Typical of Wook.

Yo stops. His hand left hanging in the air. He glances over to Wook, and there’s that hard glint Yo has sometimes, in his kohl-lined eyes.

Eun gulps down his sour saliva. To challenge his authority, one might as well press a knife against one’s neck.

Wook’s the anomaly among the twenty-five brothers. Does Wook has a death wish? It’s a tad ridiculous to think so, Eun knows. Nonetheless, the occurrence of Wook inserting himself in between Yo’s rage and his target, steadily grows. Speculation is the only game Eun could play, when it concerns the eighth prince’s intervention in Yo’s rage.

“Is our fourth brother not here yet?” Wook deflects, casting his eyes down. “He should come bathe, if he is to attend the spiritual ritual,” he adds, the calmness intact.

Wook’s ability to avoid unnecessary conflict, Eun admires, so as the others. His brother is a man isn’t quick to anger. A rare feat among the sons of Wang Geon.

Yo flicks his hand to dry. Today, they escape by a breadth’s hair from Yo’s anger. They retreat into a considerable distance, heads bowed.

“Has he ever done things our way?” asks Won. And he has a point.

Much of So’s history is elusive to Eun. All he has of his brother, tall tales and exciting rumours. Not the two sources one would (could) draw character insights from. It’s not as if he had access to So himself. So’s a name the family prefers not to utter in their lips.

“Do not bother with him. It’s too much of a pain,” Yo replies, pouring himself a cup of tea. The palace maids scurry away, like scarred mice.

“Don’t you know how Wook is?” Won interjects, a cheeky smile sneaking its way onto Won’s face.

Wook shifts his sight from Yo to Won, presses his lips into a thin line. A flicker of displeasure crosses quickly and disappears as fast.

Won continues, “He is always worrying about others.”

Eun agrees. Jung simply nods. Baek Ah’s head bobs up and down.  

Wook’s lips tighten, that mild upturned of the edges of his lips remains. “Wang So was the only one born in the same year I was. I should at least take care of him,” his voice is light, and he submerges himself into the water. Gently washes his body. His fingers massaging his own shoulders.

“This is the first time So will be attending the spiritual ritual, right?” Baek Ah adds, making small leaps on the edges of the pool. He slips out from his robe, gracing them with a sight of his muscled body. Show off. That’s brothers for Eun.

Baek Ah staggers to his feet, hands his robe to the palace maids.

“Use steam and make sure to get all the wrinkles out,” Baek Ah instructs, graces them with a smile that could charm a woman out of her clothes. He makes his way to the pool.

“Baek Ah,” Eun says, “Did you hear that our fourth brother massacred his family out in Shinju?”

Yo’s eyes flit at Eun’s direction, dangerously narrowed.

“They say it was very brutal, like a wolf killing people.” Eun howls, like a wolf for the fun of it.

“You can’t believe all the rumours like that,” Baek Ah admonishes, his lips twitch upwards slightly. “All the criminals in the nation don’t even talk about things like that.”

His brothers could be rigid and a bore, sometimes Eun wishes for them to laugh more. “All our visitors from Shinju say so. It must be true,” Eun protests.

“It is merely a rumour,” Jung counters. “How can he take down a local government on his own? What about local army? Even good martial art skills would not suffice. Also, So has never a master who taught him to fight.”

“Jung, you and So have the same mother,” Eun points out, swims closer to Jung, “You never know when you’ll turn into a wolf too.” Eun howls again, fingers curls up to resemble claws. Jung fires back with a poor imitation of a wolf’s howl.

“Shut your mouths,” Yo snarls.

Eun knows that tone. It’s the voice that servants fear. Eun knows he should avoid incurring such tone from his brother.

“Then, I am born from the same womb as our fourth brother,” Yo leans forward. His serpentine eyes that could cut down a grown man with a glare, now staring at Eun. “Am I not a person, as well?”

That glare could merely freezes Eun’s blood. All air of fun flees from his body. Eun’s meagre muscles stiffens.

Maybe he should have given a thought before making that wolf joke. It’s really a good joke, though.

“His jokes were too harsh,” Wook interrupts softly, with a smile that doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. He turns to glance at Yo, “I will speak to him later on. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Wook to Eun’s rescue. The peacemaker, their siblings dubbed Wook as. It fits him. Wook, Eun likes him the most, among their older brothers. Well, perhaps just a little less than Mu.

“Fourth Prince So will be returning to Shinju once the spiritual ritual is over,” Yo’s tone rises an octave higher, “If the emperor hears about any nonsense, I will not stand idly by. Do you understand?”

That last sentence directed to him. Eun doesn’t like the look in Yo’s eyes. He looks away, as with the rest of his brothers.

The tension’s so thick, he can cut it with a knife. Eun isn’t dumb. He knows now is not the time to defy Yo’s words. “Brothers, should we make a bet on who can float the longest?” Eun says instead, avoiding the subject completely, “Let’s go to the outer pool.”

“Eun, that’s enough,” Wook warns, sounding so much like an old man, than a man of his sixteen years of age.

Eun doesn’t wait for Wook to finish his words, runs and jumps into the outer pool.

“I said that’s enough,” Wook repeats, through gritted teeth. But it falls on deaf ears, as it always does.

Why should Eun listen to him? He’s not the emperor. He’s just a brother that Eun shares father with. He’s not even Mu.

“If you give me just one chance, I can get him to be quiet,” Jung voices. That’s Jung. Always appeasing to the older ones.

“It’s all right.”

“Brothers! Come quickly,” Eun calls out. None of his brothers takes his offer. He floats on his back.

“Jung, come now!” Eun beckons.

Jung doesn’t leave the inner pool.

Instead Eun’s left floating by himself, with his feet in the air. They remain bathing, ignoring him. Eun stays at where he is. Until his brothers leave the bathhouse one by one.

He sighs.

Eun’s the last one to leave.