As soon as he opened his eyes, what he saw was a film set. A wooden roof, pillars carved with lotus patterns, and even the floor—it was unmistakably a filming location. No, it had to be.
“I’ve prepared washing water for you. Now you must cough.”
However, Doha knew. The lotus patterns on the set weren’t this detailed.
‘Shit, I’m going crazy.’
“Wait just a moment!”
Contrary to his thoughts, a familiar manner of speech flowed from Doha’s mouth.
The sharp tone he always used when tense.
The high-pitched, beautiful voice.
It was the manner of speech of “Doha,” the king’s concubine from the script.
“There’s no time to wait, Your Majesty!”
“Just a moment…!”
“I heard that you’re taking over the sword dance in place of Noble Consort!”
Sword dance?
The sound of the court lady stomping on the floor could be heard. However, he couldn’t go out without understanding the situation. Doha abruptly rose from his bed in the royal chambers.
The room was similar yet different to the set of “Siyeong Palace” where Doha stayed in the drama. The arrangement of furniture and props were roughly similar, but the quality of items was exceptional. If the bedding on the set had flowers embroidered on it, the bedding here had dragons and tigers prominently embroidered.
And with expert craftsmanship, stitch by stitch.
‘Even with that director who was desperate to save on actor fees, there’s no way he’d spend production budget on bedding.’
As Doha looked around the room, one object on the drawer caught his eye. His eyes widened at the discovery.
‘No way.’
A worn, moldy brass disc was carefully placed there. On the back of the disc was engraved the emblem of Shinguk. Doha’s hand slowly moved toward the object. His face was faintly reflected in it.
‘A bronze mirror…?’
“Your Majesty!”
Someone’s footsteps resonated on the floor. Soon the door opened and a plump woman rushed in. Wearing a black jeogori (traditional Korean jacket), she sat down in front of Doha, spreading her green skirt.
“Your Majesty, what did I tell you!”
“Sunbae, why are you here…?”
“Your Majesty! The sword dance, the sword dance!”
Holding the mirror, Doha looked at her. With her plump build and round face, her eyes stretched widely to the sides—she was his senior actress Kim Eunsil. Spreading her green skirt, Eunsil sat down behind Doha.
“You must finish preparing quickly. If His Majesty finds out, he’ll be shocked again…!”
She hurriedly set up the circular bronze mirror in front of Doha and began fixing his hair. In an instant, Doha’s hair was half-tied. Eunsil glanced at Doha’s appearance, with his hair tied in a round bun and long hair flowing down. Nodding with satisfaction, she began combing his hair again.
While his hair was being touched, Doha’s mind raced.
Think, think.
Judging from the situation so far, first, this room was a familiar set. That is, it looked very similar to the Siyeong Palace where they filmed the drama. However, looking at items like the masterfully crafted bedding or the bronze mirror, this wasn’t a set.
Plus the sword dance. The sword dance was an episode that appeared in the middle of the script. Because Seowoo made an excuse about spraining his ankle, Doha ended up performing a clumsy sword dance.
‘The empathy ratings in the comments were no joke.’
It was a scene where he performed a terrible sword dance in front of the envoy and officials, and was thoroughly humiliated. Thanks to this episode, he not only earned the disappointment of our sweet Dajeong, Jin Hyunseo, but was also banished from Siyeong Palace to the Cold Palace.
After that, it was straight to the final episode where “Doha” gets abandoned. It was one of the quite important episodes that served as a turning point in the script.
There was no reason to film the sword dance episode again after having filmed all the way to the final episode. Doha asked Eunsil slowly with a trembling voice.
“Since when… have I been at Siyeong Palace?”
“Your Majesty! This is no time for jokes!”
The senior Kim Eunsil, or rather the court lady who now looked like her, spoke as she placed several hairpins in front of Doha. From jade-studded hairpins to ones with elaborate lotus carvings, the various hairpins dazzled Doha’s eyes. She picked up each hairpin one by one and said:
“Your Majesty, we’ll adorn you as splendidly as possible, and I’ll put in the largest hairpins, so please don’t cause any trouble today!”
Doha looked at her with confused eyes. If his premonition was correct…
“Court Lady Kim… Court Lady Kim…?”
He called Eunsil by her character name. It was a title that would have normally made Eunsil jump in surprise and hit Doha’s shoulder at least once.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there nothing to your liking?”
But the court lady with Eunsil’s face answered his words naturally. As if nothing was wrong.
‘I’m crazy.’
It was clear that Eunsil had turned into the court lady, and he had turned into Doha, the king’s concubine. Otherwise, nothing would make sense. What do they call this again?
“Did I get manifestation?”
“…Your Majesty?”
Because the manifestation genre was popular in reality, Doha had read some manifestation scripts a few times. However, in most scripts Doha had read, the protagonist would manifest into an unfinished novel, someone else’s novel, or a novel they had read the day before.
But a script?
A script…!
It was fortunate that he hadn’t forgotten the contents of the script because he had memorized every line.
Even now, if someone asked him to act out any part of any scene, Doha was confident he could perform it exactly the same. The problem was that the ending of this script was predetermined.
— Don’t you think of this as an opportunity to test your acting?
That’s when the voice was heard. A voice tinged with laughter came from somewhere. When Doha sprang up from his seat, Court Lady Kim, who had been applying oil to his hair, fell over in surprise.
“Your Majesty!”
“Who just spoke?”
Doha strode out of the room. He pushed open the door and looked around, but there was no one in the corridor except for the court ladies attending to him.
— You’ve always wondered, haven’t you, even while acting.
“What?”
— Whether you’re really speaking like ‘Doha’ and moving like ‘Doha.’
A low voice echoed around the room. Since the voice was coming from all directions, Doha didn’t know which way to turn his head. Even as Doha spun in place, the voice continued.
— This is your chance to test your acting.
“…”
— See if everyone is fooled by your acting or not. By living as Doha.
With a laugh, the voice disappeared. Doha looked around expecting to hear the voice again, but no sound came no matter how long he waited.
“Who are you?”
Doha frantically searched the room for the owner of the voice. He looked out the window and opened the door, but there were only palace people, not the owner of the voice.
“Court Lady Kim, did Court Lady Kim not hear the voice?”
With wide eyes, Doha looked at Court Lady Kim and spoke. Surely the voice hadn’t been heard by him alone. Who could it be? A new hidden camera prank? Or perhaps…
Doha’s eyes trembled, losing their focus.
“Your Majesty… Today of all days, you must please remain calm.”
Court Lady Kim, who had been helping him change clothes, glanced up at Doha. Doha looked down at the familiar face of Eunsil. She was making an expression that senior Eunsil had never made. It was the same face, but the atmosphere was unfamiliar.
Court Lady Kim was not Eunsil. This place was not Korea where Omegas and Alphas coexisted, but Shinguk where Yin and Yang people lived. It was time to accept that now. Doha, who had been looking around for the voice, sighed.
“So Court Lady Kim didn’t hear it.”
It was all strange things. Not only had he manifested into a script, but now he was hearing strange voices. A voice telling him to test his acting. In the manifestation genre, such voices usually belonged to gods, but somehow Doha didn’t think the owner of this voice was a god.
“Your Majesty…”
When Court Lady Kim looked at Doha with a worried face, Doha waved his hand.
“No. I seem to have been thinking of something else momentarily.”
Just with that gesture, she was relieved and dressed him. Feeling the touch of Court Lady Kim adjusting his clothes, Doha organized his thoughts.
This was the script. It was similar to the filming location but different, and people with the same faces and voices appeared, but the actual actors and the people here were different individuals. Manifestation. He had manifested into this script.
Perhaps, as the voice had said, it really was a chance to verify his acting. A chance to meet, talk, and clash with the actual characters.
However, this was both an opportunity and a curse.
‘Because the ending of this script is death.’
Only now did Doha’s eyes light up.
In the script, “Doha” was helplessly defeated by Seowoo, but now that the protagonist had changed, the content would change too. To avoid death, he had to stay sharp. Only then could he verify his acting, or return to his original world.
He couldn’t die like this. Being passively victimized wasn’t Doha’s style. He was closer to the type who would pay back threefold what he received before feeling satisfied. Having gathered his resolve, Doha organized his thoughts.
If he didn’t safely pass this turning point, it was obvious he would hurtle straight to the sad ending of the final episode like riding a roller coaster.
“How much time is left until the banquet?”
As soon as he grasped the situation, Doha felt urgent. In the original script, after failing the sword dance, he was sent to the Cold Palace. Conversely, if he succeeded in the sword dance, he might gain other benefits.
“How long does it take to reach the banquet hall?”
Today, Your Majesty’s condition didn’t seem good. Perhaps it was because of the terrible rumor that His Majesty’s heart was with Noble Consort. With sympathetic eyes, Court Lady Kim looked at Doha and answered.
“Once you finish your preparations, there won’t be time to practice.”
Doha looked down at the hairpins on the floor. Court Lady Kim must have made up her mind to bring them, as they were all large and elaborate hairpins. Doha picked up the most elaborate hairpin among them.
“I don’t need time.”
It was a large, elaborate dragon-shaped hairpin that the usual Doha would never have touched. Doha skillfully inserted the hairpin into his own hair. The hairpin dug into his hair, which was rolled into a round shape.
“I’m confident in the sword dance.”
His strands of high-quality hair fluttered at his touch. Doha rose from his seat with a light step.
An elegant walk where the heel touches the ground first, followed by the inside of the foot. That walk was something he had learned during the five-year seasonal historical drama.
The role Doha had played in that drama was a courtesan, a femme fatale who made kings who were the most virtuous rulers of the world, generals whose names were known even in distant barbarian lands, and scholars who knew nothing but books, all willing to sacrifice their lives for her.
“I lived as a courtesan for five years, after all?”
He smiled brightly as if he could bewitch all the men in the world. Court Lady Kim, who kept her head bowed, didn’t notice the sudden change in atmosphere.
* * *
The lengthy preparations ended after two hours.
Though he stood at just over 170 cm, his proportions were so generous that clothes suited him well. Court Lady Kim, who was watching Doha’s figure from a distance, poured out admiration.
His glossy long hair was half twisted up, and instead of the bright red clothes with elaborate patterns he usually wore, the thin sky-blue silk clothes made his white skin look even whiter.
There was no dopo (overcoat) that a Yin person of Shinguk would normally wear. Thanks to that, his skin showed through the silk. His skin, almost visible yet not quite, had something about it that was far more arousing than completely exposed flesh.
It was clothing that stimulated the desire to see more, just a little more.
Doha had lived his entire life as an entertainer, so he knew well what appearance would make him stand out the most and how to create an atmosphere.
That was his specialty and his major.
“Your Majesty, is something bothering you?”
Doha kept looking back. Only walls with Shinguk’s distinctive patterns stretched in a line, with no modern buildings in sight. A world where modern clothes, airplanes, helicopters, all had disappeared.
Something bothering him.
Doha thought as he slowly climbed the stairs toward the banquet hall.
What I left behind in reality.
What I miss.
He had no family or friends to speak of. The closest thing to a friend was his manager, but even managers changed every half year, so it was difficult to form attachments.
He didn’t miss money or fame either. Although he had no people, he always had money and fame, so he didn’t feel any longing for them.
‘If there’s one thing I miss… it’s that I can no longer act in new roles.’
It was only when acting that he felt alive. Every time he received a new script and performed a new character, Doha felt like he was being reborn. It was fun to meticulously reset and act out the character’s eating habits, routines, personality, speech patterns, and even voice.
The fact that he didn’t have to fully reveal the appearance of ‘me.’
Hiding ‘me’ and putting forward the character to act as a new person was the joy of his life.
“Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
“…No.”
That was then, and this is now.
Doha decided to focus on his current situation. He had already read the end of the script, and at that end was the death of the protagonist, ‘Doha.’
‘I don’t have time to worry about how this happened. Avoiding death comes first.’
The door to the banquet hall was right in front of him.
After taking a breath, Doha slowly walked into the banquet hall.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
