Lord Jun San-Heoli was a tall man with piercing eyes and a stern disposition even in the most jovial of times. This was not one of those times. He steepled his fingers before him and listened, tightlipped, as his son once more complained about circumstance and fate.

"It isn't fair, Lord Father! It just isn't. I did not and do not consent to this arrangement. Doesn't that mean anything?" Jun Kkachi glared at his father, challenge shown in his normally docile eyes.

"No. It means nothing."

Kkachi gripped his chopsticks so tightly in his hands that the wooden implements snapped in two. The sharp sound echoed in the lord's private eating chamber and Kkachi winced. He'd never been angry enough to raise his voice at Lord Jun, but then he'd never been put in such a position.

"It looks as if you've awakened something thought dormant in our young prince," Lady Jun Minji said as she silently entered the room from a hidden passage behind a tapestry depicting progenitors of The Jun Family standing protectively before The King on High.

"As you predicted it would, my love."

"As I predicted it would."

"Please don't speak about me as if I am not sitting before you, Lord Parents." Kkachi sighed, poking at his barely touched dinner with a broken chopstick shard. Seared forest horn was his favorite, but he couldn't eat. Not while his life hung in the balance. "I apologize for any disrespect I might have shown, but this is– I can't do this thing."

"You will do this thing, son. Because I require it of you and because you must."

"They are always the same thing with you," Kkachi grumbled under his breath.

"Speak up," Lord Jun snapped.

"I said, anything you request becomes an obligation, Lord Father. There is never any other way with you!"

The expressions on his parent's faces said he'd said too much.

"I am sorr–" he began to apologize, but his mother cut him off with a look.

"You will be silent and listen." Her words were icy, the coldness of a nobleborn woman of Switang. "The King on High has been waging war against the death-worshippers across the Dragon Sea for a decade. Lord Sardon claims that The King is dead and he will sit The High Throne, and has declared war on any lands that will not kiss his ring. The honor of The Jun Family will not allow us to bow to anyone but The King on High himself. So it is only a matter of time before Lord Sardon turns his eyes on Switang.

Lord Chaka of Ngun-Mwar has agreed to an alliance with your Lord Father under the condition of marriage. Your elder brother, Uhu, is off on The King on High's crusade. Your sister," Lady Minji took a deep breath to steady the sudden quiver in her voice, "Durumi was lost to us two summers ago when she rode south to entreat with the goblin king. That leaves you as our only heir and the only child we have to wed to the princess of Ngun-Mwar."

She nodded her head and gestured that he could finally speak.

"I am aware of the political situation our land is in, but this is all wrong. I am the third born." Kkachi jumped to his feet and raised a finger. "First is beholden to The High Throne as warlord or advisor." He raised another. "Second is beholden to Switang and the rule of the people. There is rarely a third and no predestined responsibility falls to them. I wasn't taught statecraft or war. I learned music and art. I... I..."

"Will make a fine husband," Lord Jun finished for him.

Kkachi's shoulders sagged. He knew there was no way to change his parent's minds once they agreed on a specific course, but he'd had to try.

"Lord Father, can I beg a few days to consider this?"

"No. The decision has been made. The wedding will be tomorrow morning."

The room seemed to press in on all sides. Tomorrow morning. His parents intended to sell him off to the Lords of Ngun-Mwar. In their lands, rule was a matrilineal affair. He would be king consort to the future queen, responsible for providing many strong daughters. He'd be some stallion used to strengthen their line. Kkachi didn't want that responsibility. Besides, he'd never even seen the girl.

"She's already here, isn't she? That's why we are having dinner in your private eating chamber. You knew I'd protest and you wanted my words blunted by the wall's sound proofing."

"And you claim to not understand statecraft." Lord Jun released a wry chuckle. "Princess Jelani is resting comfortably in her guest quarters as are her parents and their retainers. If you were here instead in the Peach Forest painting, you would have seen their procession enter the castle."

"My love, that isn't fair. You scheduled their arrival to coincide with his weekly artistic retreat."

"I did, didn't I?" Lord Jun feigned uncertainty, but Kkachi knew his Lord Father. The man did everything with assuredness.

Lady Jun smiled. "I've only just come from speaking with Lord Chaka's consort. She is an amiable woman who speaks highly of her Lord and his daughter. She believes their contributions to the wedding festivities will arrive just before dawn. I think we will receive quite the show."

Show? Do they think this is a stage performance and not his future?

Kkachi pounded his fist on the table drawing a sharp look from both his Lord Parents.

"May I be excused?"

Lord and Lady Jun studied him with cold eyes before his Lord Father responded.

"Yes, you may go. The captain of the guard will escort you to your room, to prevent you getting lost like you are prone to do when in deep thought."

Kkachi didn't bother to protest. His Lord Father knew him and knew he intended to find somewhere to hide and brood. He left the private chamber and smiled at the apologetic look of the guard captain. She was a distant cousin, royal blood which was why she was allowed to carry arms and not subject to the antiquated law that prohibited common women from owning weapons.

They walked the quiet halls of Castle Hwipalam. The sound of their footfalls interrupted by the bustling ruckus of hasty preparation. Where the great halls had been empty and barren that morning, save for Jun Family banners and tapestries, they were now being prepared for the morning's ceremony and subsequent celebration. Kkachi smelled the work of the castle's cooks hard at work. The fact that all of this had been kept secret from him made the prince acutely aware of how little attention he'd paid to the goings on around him. How long had he flitted around in his Lord Father's cage before its doors had been shut?

"Are you well, my young lord?" Captain Hanni finally asked as they reached the stairs up to his quarters.

"Would you be?" he grumbled.

"Princess Jelani is quite handsome and she appears capable. The people of Ngun-Mwar are magnificent fighters and artisans." The guard captain nudged him. "If I remember correctly, your two favorite composers are both from Ngun-Mwar. Maybe the princess is a musician like yourself, or even a singer."

Kkachi tried not to crack a smile. Tried and failed.

"The princess might be perfect in every way, but I don't know her and I don't love her. I shouldn't be forced to marry her."

Hanni's smile faded. "You are the prince of Switang. It is your job to do whatever must be done in the service of your people."

They reached the door to his room, where two guards had already been posted. Kkachi didn't need to ask. He knew why they were there, but they needn't have bothered. His Lord Father's snare had already been set and sprung. His room was in one of the tallest towers of Castle Hwipalam. What was he going to do, leave out the window?

He reached for his door and Captain Hanni's hand landed on his shoulder. He turned around and she hugged him, it was only for a second. His eyes widened in surprise, but he returned it after a moment. The guards conveniently looked away.

"Durumi would be happy for you, so I am happy for you."

"Thank you." The words caught in Kkachi's throat.

Hanni and Durumi had been best friends growing up. Before her appointment to captain of the guard she had been like a sister to him. As they embraced he thought of his sister, killed while doing her diplomatic duty. Hate for the goblins of the south warred with sorrow over the loss of the one person who truly saw and understood him. For a moment, he forgot about his impending wedding, but only for a moment.

He broke their embrace and opened the door to his room.

"Goodnight, Captain Kang Hanni."

"Goodnight, Prince Jun Kkachi."

He closed the door and walked over to his wardrobe. Behind the lacquered wood screen, he disrobed. Looking at himself in the mirror, he pondered the role thrust upon him.

Kkachi lacked Uhu's broad shoulders and athletic build. They trained under the same sword master, but the younger brother could never muster the precision or ferocity of the firstborn son of Jun. By comparison, Kkachi was slight. Lithe as his mother liked to say. Staring at his face, he again thought of Durumi. They looked so similar that she and Hanni would dress him up in her clothes and pull pranks on the castle staff. She'd eventually filled out in all the ways that made a woman desirable and he'd outgrown her by an entire span. The faces were still the same, but no one would mistake the two.

Warrior. Diplomat. Poet. Owl. Crane. Magpie. That's who they were meant to be, but The Creator and her four winds saw fit to change things.

Kkachi pulled on his nightshirt and walked over to his room's single window. Below were the castle battlements and much further beneath them were the tall trees of the Peach Forest. The evening fog had already rolled in, covering the feet of the great trees and the forest floor from the watchful eye of the moon. A cool breeze blew in, ruffling his nightshirt and his long ponytailed, making him yearn for the warm furs of his bed.

"Tomorrow, I'll be married..."

Feeling helpless in the path of destiny, Kkachi buried himself in the comfort of his furs and let sleep pull him down into the world of dreams.

...

Hundreds of goblins danced around stone columns and narrow flights of stairs leading to impossible doorways built in the cyclopean style of mad orcish architects. The creatures of various sizes and shapes had long noses or floppy ears or huge feet or wild hair; their huge glowing eyes being the only unifying factor. Crazed musicians played bizarre riffs on huge drums and long-necked lutes. At the center of the wild orgy, cavorted a slender and beautiful man with a crown of white hair and long pointed ears the envy of any elf. His eyes were huge and glowing, his teeth sharp and lupine. On his shoulder was the goblin crown, branded on the ruler of the south until it was cut from his body by the one to wrench the title from him.

The goblin king sang, his goblins singing with him, to a single beautiful woman with dark complexion and strong Switang features. Despite no chains and no shackles, she was clearly their prisoner, trapped and at their mercy. Even in torn and filthy rags that had once been the livery of a royal diplomat, she bore the radiance of regal blood and Kkachi's face.

She stared forward and whispered, "Help me. By the four winds, help me."

...

"Durumi!" Kkachi jerked awake, his sister's name on his tongue and her forlorn face burned into the back of his eyelids.

Heart pounding, he stared into the darkness of his room. He'd had the nightmare ever since news reached the Switang capital of her death. Thinking back, he realized he'd had the dreams before the news arrived. Almost as if he'd known. Durumi's face aged in each dream as if, despite the years since her death, his mind held on to how she would look that night were she still among the living.

Wiping tears from his eyes, he threw back the furs, letting the cold night air shock his skin. He left his bed and returned to the window. Above, the full moon cast its pale light upon Castle Hwipalam. As Kkachi stared up at the great milk blue orb, a single red-crowned crane passed between them. For a moment, its shadow fell upon the prince and the clothes chest beside his mirror. His thoughts went from his sister to a girl whom she'd introduced to him years ago.

Jieun.

When Kkachi could no longer pass as Durumi, they took to dressing him in more common clothes and pretending he was one of her personal servants. They called him 'Ji-eun', for he was hidden in plain sight. Twice he'd been able to fool even his Lord Father though it was only in passing. Once or twice Jieun had snuck into the castle kitchens and spent the day listening to the gossip among the low-born that they would never speak in front of a Jun prince.

He opened his chest and reached down below his clothes until he found the drab colored tunic Jieun wore around the castle. in the single inner pocket was a small small-jar of lotion. The wheels of Kkachi's mind turned as a plan formed.

A prince could not avoid his responsibilities, but a common girl could live free.

He put on the tunic and let his hair fall down his back. By moonlight he applied a small bit of the lotion which would lightly bronze his skin and smooth it out. When Kkachi was done, Jieun stared back from the mirror. Gathering all of the prince's sheets, Jieun tied them together and anchored them to his heavy bedpost.

She leaned out the window and steeled herself. No one would ever call Prince Jun Kkachi brave, but Jieun had to be. For the both of them.