Minjoon stared at the massive window facing his bed. His eyes looked dispirited, sadness hidden within.

 

Several days had passed since he last saw his mother.

 

It all started after the banquet. He was led to a courtyard different from his mother's. The first time he entered, he thought that it was too big. A wide field of abundant grass and colorful flowers. He breathed in the fresh air as the gentle breeze blew against his soft cheeks.

 

It took him a while to reach his destination. He had to go through countless archways and different halls before he reached his designated room.

 

Minjoon couldn't help noticing the massive window in front of his bed, that looked too big for him to sleep in. He stayed there for a couple of days, being given everything he needed, not a single sign of living poorly nor miserably. Countless servants followed his every whim, making everything easier for him. While touring around his room, he noticed that everything is riddled with gold. His bed too soft that the moment he sat, the cushion easily sunk. From the window, he could see the garden so vast he couldn't seemingly see the end. He later learned that this courtyard was now his, acknowledged as a present from the emperor.

 

Yet he did not like this gift.

 

He missed his mother, their small home, their cozy room, their little dining table. He missed the courtyard where he used to live with his mother. Where he was born and raised, surrounded by warmth and love.

 

He missed their small little house that he was always eager to come back to.

 

He hated all of this. So what if he had a soft comfortable bed, it was too big for him to sleep in any way. So what if he could eat a whole variety of intricately prepared luxurious food, he couldn't even share it with anybody anyway.

 

So what if he was treated as the crown prince, his mother wasn't there anyway.

 

He cried on the first night of his stay in that spacious but desolate room. It was almost the size of the whole house where he and his mother stayed. Being alone frightened him, making him think too much. A ghost beside his bed, or maybe from his left. His imagination ran wild as he was left alone in that room.

 

He comforted himself with the thought that his mother would come. She would barge in and sleep next to him, whispering lullabies while running her fingers through his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his head with a pillow.

 

He just had to endure a little bit more.

 

He stayed up until past 9, completely disregarding his sleeping time. He occasionally peeked through the pillow and glanced at the door, waiting for his mother to come.

 

Slowly, tears fell when he saw that the sun was about to rise. Servants burst in holding a scroll. It said.

 

'The Crown Prince shall stay inside this palace till his coming of age. Until then, he will be given strict education and tutoring.'

 

This was the decree the Emperor had set upon him.

 

He did not know what to feel. Was this his father's way of getting back at them? What did this mean? He thought that everything was going so well. Didn't his father say that he should always be by his mother's side?

 

Yet what was this.

 

Minjoon thought that maybe because the Emperor was too busy, he accidentally gave a wrong decree.

 

He demanded his father's presence. But they stopped him saying that it was impossible. The group of servants looked at him with mockery in their eyes. It made him falter, yet his resiliency made him unwilling to concede.

 

He then asked if he could go to where the Emperor is, but they stopped him again saying that he wasn't allowed to go out of the courtyard.

 

He was once again left in his own room. His thoughts running wild.

 

Maybe, it was because of him that he couldn't see his mother. Maybe he wasn't trying hard enough.

 

Maybe his mother gave up on him, maybe she hated him from the beginning. Maybe this was all a lie, a passing dream that would disappear once he woke up.

 

But as days passed, he knew this wasn't a dream. He was abandoned and left in this horrid place, with a bunch of liars and leeches hoping to gain power and wealth.

 

He cried and cried. He hated everybody, he didn't want to talk to anybody. He just wanted to go home.

 

Then one day he stopped crying. Looking at the ceiling while lying down in bed, he realized this wouldn't help. This situation wouldn't change even if he had shed a considerable amount of tears.

 

During his stay there, he discovered a library while walking through the corridors.

 

It was initially closed, the double doors looked huge and intimidating. Like it was not meant to be opened.

 

Yet his curiosity got the better of him and in the end, he opened the door.

 

An amazing mountain of books was suddenly displayed in front of his eyes. Tall shelves reaching up to the high ceiling fully brimmed with works of art and literature.

 

The scent of old books prickled his nose. Its woody and earthy smell became stronger as he came inside. His body stepped forward as his eyes glittered, looking around. The sun shone through the tall window that is almost triple his size. With his hands outstretched, he felt the rough texture of wood and paper in his palms.

 

Since then, he went there every day to read books. He did not miss even a single day, and he continued to read incessantly.

 

It was something that distracted his thoughts, and he willingly welcomed it with open arms.

 

And now was another day,

 

He hopped off the bed and walked towards the door. He would read before the maids come.

 

He walked along the familiar hall with his blue robes trailing behind. He did not bother to change his clothes, it's still clean anyway.

 

Minjoon turned the knob and pushed the door open. Dust wafted through the air, making his nose itch. His face scrunched up as he tried to hold it in, but alas he couldn't.

 

He sneezed.

 

He stopped for a second and he closed his eyes. Rubbing his nose, he slowly opened his eyes.

 

Minjoon became alarmed as his brows furrowed, focusing on an old man. The man stood by the shelf reading a book. He wore a darkish grey robe that looked tattered and a bit old, his greyish white hair set on a simple bun.

 

Looking at the book held by the old man, he squinted his eyes to look closely.

 

It was a leather-bound book that looked like a diary. He could not see any title or author but maybe because it was too far away.

 

It was a book he had seen before.

 

But because It looked plain and unimportant, he disregarded the book. He had no interest in it.

 

His lips tightened as he became uncomfortable with the person present. Nevertheless, he proceeded to get the book for Politics.

 

He moved forward, stopping in front of the bookshelf. He stood on his toes as he tried to reach for the book he was previously reading.

 

Holding it in his hands, he walked towards the table in the middle of the room then sat on a chair.

 

He read silently and patiently.

 

Hours passed, with Minjoon still sitting on the very same chair. Every few minutes a page is turned. His eyes glued to the thick old book.

 

Because he was too fixated on the book, Minjoon failed to notice a shadow looming over his back.

 

"What are you reading?"

 

"Ah!"

 

Minjoon jolted from his seat as he screamed. With his eyes wide open, he stared at the old man as he tried to calm the fast beating of his heart.

 

This also made his hold on the book loosen.

 

The old man snatched the book from his palms and read the book while standing.

 

He held the book on one hand while stroking his beard. His eyes narrowed looking at the text. He closed the book with a snap then looked at Minjoon.

 

Clasping his hands behind his back, the old man questioned Minjoon.

 

"How old are you little boy?"

 

Minjoon gawked at the old man, stupefied by his sudden intrusion. Remembering the question, he softly answered, still a little bit confused.

 

"f-five?"

 

The old man squinted his eyes at Minjoon; his lips frowning as his back bent leaning forward. He peered at him with his eyebrow raised, looking from head to toe.

 

He seemed to arrive at a conclusion as his frown suddenly turned into a smile.

 

Seeing this, Minjoon became relieved. Noticing the book he was reading still behind the man's back, he tried to ask for it back.

 

"Uhm excuse me sir but can I-"

 

The old man suddenly threw the book away still facing Minjoon, a smile etched on his face. The book flew high, stopping its flight as it smacked on the wall.

 

Minjoon's eyes followed the book as it made a sharp slap. His eyes then flashed back to the old man, gaping at him with an open mouth.

 

The old man walked back towards the shelf he was previously standing on, taking out a familiar leather book.

 

He once again approached Minjoon. Placing the leather book on the table, He commanded.

 

"Read till day 15."

 

He sat on the chair across Minjoon, his chin resting on his palms.

 

"Wake me up when you're done."

 

The man dozed off, closing his eyes.

 

Minjoon's eyes twitched as he looked at the old man.

 

His mother keeps reminding him not to talk to strangers. Should he just run to the door? Or should he just stay and do what he said?

 

He glanced at the book with his cerulean eyes looking at it with wonder, curious on what's inside.

 

He held the book, feeling the leather's rough texture.

 

Then he opened it.

 

Minjoon's eyes followed every word. He tightly grasped the book, unable to let it go.

 

The book was not as thick as most of the books he had read, but the contents were much more than what a page should have.

 

After a few hours of reading, he put the book down.

 

Minjoon's eyes were sparkling, as he gazed from the book to the man.

 

The old man smiled forming wrinkles in his eyes. Unknowingly, the old man woke up the moment Minjoon put the book down.

 

"How was it?"

 

The old baritone voice vibrated across the room. The man leaned back on the chair, resting his hands on his knees.

 

He closed his eyes as he sighed, his voice low.

 

"I told you to read only till day 15..."

 

He slowly opened his left eye glancing at Minjoon.

 

"...But you already read till the end."

 

The old man slowly chuckled, his voice deep as he rested on the chair.

 

Minjoon leaned on the table facing the man.

 

With inquisitive eyes, he asked the man.

 

"What happened afterward?"

 

The old man crossed his arms as he faced Minjoon.

 

"I will ask you a question first."

 

"Would you pick the one who wrote or the one who opposed?"

 

His eyes focused on the boy, his gaze sharp yet curious.

 

The sun's rays shone on both of them as it was about to set.

 

"The one who wrote."

 

The old man flinched as he stroked his beard. Nevertheless, he continued.

 

"Why?"

 

Minjoon stood, his back straight as he stared unblinkingly at the man.

 

"He believed on what he saw, on what was proven to be true."

 

Minjoon's brows furrowed as he stared at the ground.

 

"At the very least, he was fair. Yet why they had fought him?"

 

The old man continued ignoring the last question, his lips tight.

 

"Would you follow his beliefs once you become a ruler?"

 

Minjoon answered with a sharp nod.

 

The man looks at Minjoon with his palms clasped tightly in front of his face.

 

"But what if a problem cannot be solved nor proven?"

 

The boy frowned as he exclaimed.

 

"There is always a shred of evidence, the truth."

 

"Then what if the truth is within your grasp yet the people you love tell otherwise?"

 

Minjoon's eyes narrowed as he tilted his head.

 

"I don't understand."

 

The man stared unblinkingly at Minjoon. Then suddenly he stood up.

 

He walked towards the window, his hands behind his back.

 

"What if what you seek cannot be found?"

 

His feet halted as he stood in front of the window.

 

"What would you do..."

 

He then turned towards the table. With cold menacing eyes, he asked the crown prince of the Il Kingdom.

 

Minjoon became alarmed, fear started to creep up on him as he looked on the man's eyes.

 

"...Little boy?"