There was something very ironic about doors... and knocks. Doors are locked only to be opened, time and again, and knocks... Well, those so called polite gestures are heavily embedded with the desire to be given entry. Standing outside Haerin's room door now was someone who obviously used light taps to announce his presence, and not ask for permission to be let in. He swung the mahogany door open and intruded in the only space she could claim her own before she could even say 'no'.
“So… How was your day at school? Are you adapting well?” Song Jinyoung finally spoke, having scanned around enough to come to the conclusion that this room was pretty much the same like any other guestroom in the mansion.
Isn't it a little late for us to be having this conversation? "It's alright," she replied reluctantly, neither turning her head to make eye contact nor taking her eyes off her lecture notes to acknowledge her father's presence, "It would be a lot better if I could get your youngest daughter off my back sometimes." He let out a sigh, just like she thought he would, which was followed by nothing but silence, deafening silence that threatened to strip her naked and expose her true intentions and left goosebumps in its wake. Her insolence was now exclusively reserved for moments like this, when it was just the two of them. She wanted to make her resentment known, and at the same time fulfill the old man's masochistic desire of making amends to the daughter that he had abandoned without care for the past 21 years, but she could not afford to have herself kicked out of the mansion, so she figured the way to play her cards - keep yourself in check in public, play that role of the black horse in the family well, and let the old man keep his pride tall.
Every single muscle of her being stiffened as his palm came in contact with the back of her head, patting her hair so lightly that any onlooker would coo at the tender act of affection from a father, especially when it was one who brought a permanent air of authority with him wherever he went, yet unbeknownst to him, she was all but desperate to slap his filthy hand off her. Her fist tightened, fingernails digging painfully into her palms as it remained hidden in her lap, her bottom lip rolling inwards ever so slightly as her teeth bit down on it, chanting silently to herself that this would soon be over, and sure enough, another sigh of his washed her with relief as he turned his attention to her room, as if realizing how uncomfortable he had made her with that awkward gesture.
"You should be ready for dinner, the Queen will be arriving soon."
"We have a Queen?" She muttered under her breath, fully aware of who her father was referring to, earning herself a low grunt of disapproval from the old man. "I would be down in a moment, if you would excuse me," she rose from her seat and finally made a brief moment of eye contact with her father, nodding slightly before disappearing into her walk-in closet.
The Song's kitchen was becoming her favourite place somehow, and the servants had long given up trying to treat her prim and proper and persuade her to not meddle with the chores altogether. She was comfortable in the kitchen, more comfortable listening to the mundane stories that the servants had to share than interacting with anyone else in the Song family. She wasn't anticipating a confrontation with the so-called Queen over the dining table, but she knew that she wouldn't be the one sitting on needles all night.
She picked at her steak silently as waves and waves of lighthearted chatter carried on throughout dinner. The Songs, they had a knack for making her feel like she wasn't there, and to be honest, she did not mind at all. It was their occasional obvious attempts to display kindness and include her in the conversation, more often than not changing the topic and rendering her the subject of scrutiny, that really, really got on her nerves. Why couldn't they just leave her alone? Must they really dismiss the efforts that she was putting in staying occupied with her wine glass? She had caught Park Eunmi stealing glances at her from across the table, even though the intelligent royal delegate had not once shown any hints of discomfort. She wasn't in the mood to mingle, and she hadn't any intentions of speaking to Park Eunmi; she couldn't wait to be done with this meaningless dinner gathering. But of course, the Songs grabbed at every other opportunity to shed compassion.
"Haerin-ah, this is your first time meeting Her Highness, isn't it?" Song Jinyoung's harmless question nearly wiped the smile of Park Eunmi's face.
"아닙니다, we've met before. Am I right, Your Highness?" Her stoic expression was replaced with a modest smile as she raised her head to look at the interim Queen, the stark absence of amity taunting in her eyes. "The Kappa Sigma Ball few years back?"
"Ah... Ne. You are Jaehyun's friend."
"Yes, you remember," she allowed for the slight widening of her smile as a show of honor, before averting her gaze to her father who remained unaffected, probably because he did not even find the name familiar. Tonight was a night of ironies it seems, because the Queen's memory was just as bad, if she was to be fair. No, I am not Jaehyun's friend, she had wanted to rebut, I am the pitiful excuse of a living thing that you had sacrificed for your little affair with your bodyguard, Your Highness. An affair that you cannot admit to your people, one built on secretly shared glances and touches when you think no one is looking. She could smear the Queen's dignity all over the expensive silk tablecloth and dump a glass of champagne over her Highness' head while she was at it, but she was tired. Not up to it. No use. The Lee Sangmin she used to know wasn't the same person that stood guard beside the Queen 24/7 (almost) ever ready to throw himself in front of her to catch rotten eggs and grenades. And Sanghyun wouldn't be too happy to hear about her nasty episode with the Queen, not that anyone at this dining table would bother enough to rat out on her. They'll probably pack her bags and dump her on the streets for disgracing the family by not worshipping her Highness' royal ass. Right where she belonged.
