The palace wasn't like one you'd see in most Disney movies, but that didn't make it any less magnificent up close. It only stood about two stories tall—at least that's what I thought it was, when I craned my neck upwards—but they were high stories, bolstered higher by a towering set of stairs. By "stairs," I mean that they were both wide and high, solid blocks of stone that extended horizontally across the front of the building. The colours were rich and bright, turmeric, and sage, and crimson, and even from far below, I could see the intricacies of the fine detailing on each of the pillars that lined across the front porch area—although "porch" didn't quite describe the massive outdoor terrace area. The doors were simple; structured, but built with power. No one, I could tell, passed through those doors without permission.
"If this is a film set, it must be a helluva expensive one," I thought.
It took a few moments of gaping at the majestic structure in front of me to realize that Chi was observing me. I turned to him, and saw him standing there with his arms crossed, his eyes glued to mine and dancing with that amused look that came so easily to him. "I felt that way when I saw it first, too."
"It must be amazing to work here," I acknowledged, still hoping that I could figure out how on earth I'd even ended up here.
"It is. A bit…intimidating, as I'm sure you'd guess."
"Absolutely." I'm sure it would be scary, working on a multi-million-dollar film set. I fidgeted a little, twisting my pointer fingers together. As amazing as this place was, where on earth was I? There was no way that I could be anywhere near Halmeoni's house. There hadn't been anything filming nearby it.
"I'm sorry. I nearly forgot." Chi walked up the first step, then looked over his shoulder, gesturing at me with his chin. "I'm supposed to pay my aunt a visit. You should come with me. We'll see that one of the maids take care of you."
"Huh? Oh!" I suddenly remembered that Chi brought me here because I said I needed to use the washroom. "Ok, thanks." I was sure by "maid," Chi meant one of the production staff. Hopefully, someone dressed in some normal clothes.
But as Chi led me through the front hall, I realized that I might not find any such person. Even if this was—and I was beginning to doubt that it could be—a film set, there was no sign of filming anywhere. No cables, no lighting, no cameras. There wasn't the bustling energy of a film set either. The house was completely dead silent.
Finally, Chi approached a set of doors, flanked by a set of guards. "I'm here to see my aunt," he said, authoritatively, and yet nonchalantly at the same time.
The guards each gave a single, blunt nod. "Your Highness." Star sickness, much? They opened the doors, revealing a man in simple brownish-burgundy robes and a long beard.
"Your Highness," the man's voice mingled a controlled mixture of surprise and delight. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."
"I wasn't expecting to be here so soon, myself," Chi replied. "But I met with an old friend." He turned to where I was trying to hide behind him. "You remember Ha-Na, don't you Seung-Ro?"
Recognition immediately lit the man's eyes. "Of course. How could I forget little Hong Ha-Na?" Ok, either he thinks he knows me, or he should win the Academy Award. "How are you, dear?"
I resisted the urge to reply with "Daebak." "Fine, thank you."
"Is the Queen Dowager ready for us? Ha-Na has had a long journey…"
"Ah, yes. The Dowager should be ready for you, shortly. Why don't I call for Chung-Hee to take care of the young lady?" Without waiting for an answer, Seung-Ro rang a bell, and within moments, a teenage girl appeared. "Please help Miss Hong Ha-Na make herself comfortable, Chung-Hee. She's the daughter of our former court physician, so be sure to take special care of her."
Chung-Hee bowed in response. "Yes. Please come, Miss," she said to me, her voice softer than her appearance. She was very pretty, with clear milk-coloured skin and large, dark eyes framed by delicate lashes, but her uniform of plain, dull green robes and her hair, tightly wound in a bun at the top of her head, gave her an appearance that was more matronly than her years.
"Ok." I still felt a bit shell-shocked by the size and grandeur of the building I was in, and, combined with the uneasy feeling that I still didn't know exactly where I was or how I got here, it made me want to turn around and run back out. But maybe I could glean information from "Chung-Hee" once I was out of Chi's earshot.
"I'll see you after," Chi spoke as Chung-Hee ushered me out of the room and back into the hall. This time, we turned left and continued down another long hall.
"In here please, Miss," she opened a door and gestured me inside. Once I was inside, she pointed to what looked like a soup tureen. Oh, this is one of those chamber pots, I realized. "Once you're finished, call me back in. We don't have time to give you a bath before you meet the empress," her eyes did a quick, appraising scan of my robes before she continued. "But I'll get you some flower essences and re-do your hair for you.
"Um, thank you." As Chung-Hee left, I eyed the chamber pot. I really should have just gone in the bush. I really wasn't thrilled at the idea of peeing in a container that would be emptied by a…maid? Film set extra? Member of the production staff? How on earth was I even going to bring the topic of where was I was up? My head started to throb again as thoughts swirled, and despite not usually being a crier, I felt hot, salty tears run down my cheeks. How on earth was I in this position? Was I in some weird cult? How was I going to get back home? And nobody would even check in on me until late. This is what I get for not being a better daughter. Now maybe I would have to use a chamber pot and wear clothes from the year 950 for the rest of my life.
Suddenly, the tear-stream turned into a waterfall. I started sniffing to accommodate the increased mucus production. Darn, where are Kleenexes when you need them? I gave a quick scan over the room—which was pretty much as ornate as everywhere else in the palace—and realized that I would never find actual disposable tissues. I was running my sleeve over my nose, when I heard a knock at the door, followed by Chung-Hee, with swift efficiency. So much for knocking.
"Miss!" Though her eyes looked distraught at the sight of me basically wiping my nose with my sleeve, her voice was filled with kind concern. "Whatever is the matter?" She pulled a square of what also looked like silk out of a pocket area in her robes and gently swiped at my sleeve. Then she dabbed at the tearstains on my cheeks. "Your eyes will get swollen. Here, blow." She pinched the end of my nose, and as weird as it was to have someone younger than me—and a stranger, no less—taking care of something that I'd done for myself for over twenty years, her touch was comforting enough that I felt I could stop crying—for a while, anyways.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Oh no, Miss!" Chung-Hee's eyes widened. "Never apologize to me. But I don't understand why you're sobbing. Are you unwell?"
"No…maybe…I don't know." I sighed. "I'm just overwhelmed."
Chung-Hee smiled at that. "It's understandable, Miss. The palace life is overwhelming."
"Yes, but…" I stumbled over the words. My head was hurting, and trying to even think about anything—never mind articulate clearly—was exhausting. "Where exactly am I, Chung-Hee?"
Chung-Hee looked confused. "Why, the palace, Miss—"
"I know, but which palace? Chung-Hee, I'm not from here…"
She sighed. "None of us are. Except for the royal family, that is. My hometown is miles and miles away. I haven't been home in nearly four years. Not since I came into service."
"Oh my gosh, this is a cult!" Was my only semi-lucid thought in my desperate state.
"It's overwhelming at first. But you get through it because you have to." Weariness broke into Chung-Hee's determined eyes for a moment. I mentally debated between keeping quiet and trying to prod her more, but she spoke again before I could do that. "But you'll have an easier time. You've lived here before, when you were little. Our Prince Chi," her lips formed a small, proud smile at his name, "has told me all about you. Only good things though, you understand," she finished in a rush.
"Oh yes, I'm sure." But how could he have? I wondered. Did I really look so much like this Hong Ha Na that he thought I was her?
"And you're here by special request of the Prince," she beamed at me. "Although, he wasn't expecting you for a few weeks, yet."
"I see." I'd been requested? By Chi? "Chung-Hee, do you have a mirror I could use?"
"Of course, Miss." Chung-Hee took my arm and led me across the room to a small dressing table. On it, was a porcelain mirror with a flower print. Chung-Hee took the mirror and held it up for me.
And I nearly passed out.
It was me, I could tell, but not the same as I knew myself to look. I looked much younger than my twenty-four years, for starters. All of the fine stress lines around my eyes, mementoes from years of hard studying, had disappeared, and my skin was smooth and fresh. I looked like I could barely be twenty. My hair was longer too, sprinkled with the natural blonde highlights that I used to get from running around outside, before long thesis-writing sessions indoors took over. But the most noticeable changes were the ones that Chi had noted when we first met. My eyes were dark brown still, from far off. But when I moved in closer, I could see that one had a dark, sapphire blue tone to it, while the other had a hint of emerald green. And if I looked even closer, I could see a faint scar near my chin.
I slumped back in my chair, unable to speak for the moment. Although, secretly, I'd wondered if I'd be able to speak again. Chung-Hee, who'd grabbed the mirror before I could drop it, looked at me inquisitively. "You know, Miss," she began, her voice soft. "You look a bit pale and tired, but it's nothing that Bae Chung-Hee can't fix."
I looked up at her, still not sure of what to say, and saw that her lips were quirking in humour. Not mean laughter, but genuine humour. It was the most natural reaction I'd seen from her yet, and somehow, it was reassuring in its naturalness. Whatever alternative explanations I could try to come up with couldn't explain my change of appearance. Somehow, I was somewhere else—maybe even in another time. It was better, I realized, to go with the flow until I could figure out where exactly I was. And how I could get back.
"Chung-Hee," I finally spoke, weakly. "Do your best work."