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Late Majesty, had passed on to the Heavenly Kingdom. When I became King, the ministers said that no one, not even my mother, the Dowager Queen, was considered my superior."
    Young-sup tried to imagine such a thing. He couldn't, and shook his head in wonder.
    The King went on, "Instead, my tutors explained that I must always consider carefully whatever I say. They told me that every time I speak, I represent the nation.
    "I did not think much of it then, when I was young—I had only to learn it, to please them. But now I am aware that I have spoken in only one way for as long as I can remember. Whereas everyone else, it seems, has different ways of speaking. This is what I wish to learn—these differences."
    Young-sup thought hard. How could he explain something that came to him as naturally as breathing? He was silent so long that the King finally spoke.
    "Perhaps," His Majesty said wistfully, "it is not something that can be learned."
    Young-sup scuffed at the hard ground with his heel a few times to loosen the soil, then sat down. The
King sat next to him. Young-sup showed the King how the reel could be planted in the earth; when the wind was just right, as it was today, the kite could fly even without a flier.

    They watched the kite for a few moments. Finally Young-sup asked a question. "Do you ever get angry?"
    "Of course."
    "What do you say when you get angry?"
    "I express my displeasure. If I am angry enough."
    Young-sup rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly. He had to think of another way. "Your Majesty, am I truly free to do as I wish now? To teach you the way I speak with my brother?"
    "Of course. I have ordered you to do so."
    "All right. Let's try something different."
    Young-sup picked up the reel, handed it to the King, and stood; the King followed his lead. Then, as the King looked up at the kite, Young-sup shoved him off balance and snatched the reel away from him.
    The King staggered backward, then tripped and fell. The watchful guards at the bottom of the hill responded immediately. They charged up the hillside to protect and give aid to the King.
    The King jumped to his feet. Without taking his eyes from Young-sup's face, he raised his hand and
stopped the guards with a single gesture. They waited where they were, halfway up the hill.

    "If it was the reel you desired, why did you not ask me?" The King's voice was stern, his face unsmiling. "It was unnecessary to push me. I would have given it to you."
    Young-sup ignored the rebuke. "Your Majesty—when I pushed you just now, what were you thinking? Your exact words, as they were in your mind."
    The look on the King's face changed from angry to confused. "I was thinking, Why did you do that?"
    "Good!" Young-sup exclaimed. "If it were my brother, that is what he would have said. He would have said something like, 'Why did you do that, you leper?'"
    "Ah! So he would have said the words in his mind, just as they were?"
    "Yes, that's right."
    The King frowned, considering. "And this is how you always speak?"
    "No. As I said, I must still use the polite form of address to my parents, my tutor—anyone older. But to others my own age or younger, yes. And also with my brother." Young-sup paused for a moment. "Although now that he has been capped, I'm supposed to speak politely to him as well."
    The King nodded. He waved the guards back down the hill, then turned to Young-sup and took a deep breath. "All right. I shall try now." He grabbed for the reel. "Give that back to me, you ... you leper!"

    Young-sup laughed. He held the reel away from the King, then dashed away. The King chased after him. The two boys dodged around the hillside, exchanging insults and laughter as they ran.
    At last they slowed, then stopped, still panting and laughing. The King sobered somewhat and beckoned his entourage. As they brought his palanquin back up the hill, he turned to Young-sup. "I'll watch for your kite," he said. "When I see it, I'll come out. If I can."
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