In a world where Stray Kids and ATEEZ are two well known Mafia gangs. Y/N Bang is a part of both. Bang Chan's (who is the leader of Stray Kids) younger sibling, dating Hongjoong (the yandere leader of ATEEZ). Already the glue that keeps the two from full on wars between each other, what happens when forces unforeseen cause the two to team up. What will this entail for our dear Y/N?
I made a navigation so it's easier to find each Chapter! Hope you enjoy reading!!
Iced Charmer Chapter 1
Iced Charmer Chapter 2
Iced Charmer Chapter 3
Iced Charmer Chapter 4 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 5 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 6 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 7 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 8 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 9 (Soon)
Iced Charmer Chapter 10 (Soon)
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In no way does my fanfics represent who ATEEZ and Stray Kids are. They are their own people.
In a world where Stray Kids and ATEEZ are two well known Mafia gangs. Y/N Bang is a part of both. Bang Chan's (who is the leader of Stray Kids) younger sibling, dating Hongjoong (the yandere leader of ATEEZ). Already the glue that keeps the two from full on wars between each other, what happens when forces unforeseen cause the two to team up. What will this entail for our dear Y/N?
You sit in the VIP section of the under ground boxing arena to watch San's match. With Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, to your right, and Seongwha, Mingi, and Jongho to your left. With Wooyoung by the ring as San's handler.
However you are unable to fully focus on the fight as your mind drifts back to yesterday with Hongjoong seeing Bang Chan at Mcdonalds. Especially after you called and asked your brother if he was at there that day, to which he denied saying "I haven't been to Mcdonalds since I went with you last month."
Which only confused you even more. Thoughts like what if Hongjoong just saw wrong and that it was just someone that looked like your brother, but you quickly get rid of that thought. Reminding yourself that with Hoongjoong's eyesight it's not possible.
You are quickly taken out of your thoughts by Hongjoong who noticed that you were distracted "You okay?"
You nod "yeah I'm just thinking"
"Thinking about yesterday"' He asks.
You reply with a nod of your head"Yeah it's just so confusing and a bit alarming especially since my brother said that he wasn't there yesterday" confusion clear as day on your face with your furrowed eyebrows "What do you think about it?"
He turns his head towards to ring right as the dude San was fighting gets a few hits on San causing him to wince a bit before replying "Honestly I don't know what I think, but I do have this feeling that this is only the start of the weird things to come. Almost like there is a storm approaching"
To which you nod in agreement as you fidget with the necklace that you are wearing "yeah...me too....I'm sure the others can sense it too. Have you told them about what you seen yet?"
"I have not" he replies as his remained trained on San "at least not all of them, I did tell Seongwha, Yunho, and Wooyoung though. They also found it strange"
"Good, I don't think..." Your words trail off as you freeze in place when you see San on the other side of the ring. To which Hongjoong notices you stopping mid sentence and looks to where you are looking and his brows furrow.
He turns to look at the three boys sitting next to you and tells them to go after him. The three nod, as they stand up and head towards San.
When San noticed the three getting up he quickly takes off, the three following suit after him. Hongjoong then grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. Thoughts running rampant in both of your guy's heads.
Before either of you are able to say anything, everyone proceeds to stand up, cheering loudly as San lands the winning hit on his opponent effectively knocking him out. Followed by San heading towards the locker rooms area with Wooyoung. The rest of you stand up and follow suit.
You're the first to approach San giving him a high five. "Nice job out there! You had us worried there for a second."
To which he replies with a cheeky grin "He was a bit harder than I thought he would be, he got some good hits on me." He then turns to Hongjoong "Where did Seongwha, Mingi, and Jongho go?"
Hongjoong sighs and then explains what he saw yesterday and what you two saw today, originally not wanting his members to know about it quite yet, at least not until he got more information.
San furrows his eyebrows, "But that's impossible, since I was in the ring the whole time, and Bang Chan at Mcdonalds...alone?"
Hongjoong nods "Exactly that's why I had those three chase after him, I need to get to the bottom of this, we need to get to the bottom of this...Which means I'll need you to all be on guard even more thsn usual."
The others nod, as you just stand there shaking. Fear, confusion, and worry filling your head. Your thoughts going a hundred miles an hour.
Hongjoong notices you shaking and grabs your hand again giving it a squeeze. Right as he is about the say something to help calm you down, and put your mind at ease, the door to the locker room bursts opening with Seongwha walking in, clearly out of breath and sweating, with the other two following behind him. Seongwha proceeds to speak up "We lost him. I don't know how, especially since we were hot on his trail, but we swear we saw Wooyoung too...what the hell is going on?!"
Hongjoong shakes his head "I don't know but I have a feeling it's not good. It seems we might need to team up with Stray Kids for this...."
The others just look at him in silence with all their faces looking serious, an uncomfortable air fills the room at Hongjoong's words
Mingi is the first to speak up "Do we really have to? I mean sure we're getting along due to Y/N, but teaming up with them is a different story. We can take care of it ourselves" The others expect Seongwha, Yunho, and Wooyoung nod in agreement.
Wooyoung then speaks up, "No captain is right. I get the feeling that this is all bigger than us. We are going to need their help and they are going to need ours. Especially since it wasn't just our members that they saw."
The others stay silent knowing it's true. Despite them not wanting to team up with Stray Kids, they all know deep down that they'll need their help.
Hi hi! Sorry for the long wait I just had a lot come up. But it's here now chapter 3 of Iced Charmer. I hope you enjoyed. It's currently 4:30 AM for me as I'm writing this. Insomnia be a bitch. But I thought since I'm up I might as well write chapter 3. So sorry if it seems a bit jumbled up. I hope you enjoyed chapter 3 none the less though!
Tag List: @arilevenatz @ritafredrick2 @chxrrym00n @dracasula @xstarmarsx
This was just a random blurb me and a friend though of and I thought to write it out for you all. Just basically a stream of thoughts. Sorry if it's not well put together.
You pay for their food or drinks or both
Wooyoung would be the one to notice first and immediatly take off after you after saying something loud to the others about it.
Seonghwa would chase after Wooyoung and you.
Mingi would have no clue what is going on at first as he chasing after you with the others(besides Hongjoong and San),
Yunho is the one who explains to Mingi what's going on.
Yunho and and Mingi then start to speed up and even pass Wooyoung and Seongwha,
But then there is a whoosh as someone passes by the two and its Yeosang,
However you somehow manage to out run them.
You think you are in the clear, but when you back you see a horrifying siteâŚ.
It's Jongho still chasing you very quickly gaining speed, with his rbf.
He causlly tackles you and yells somewhat polietly "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!" However you unable respond as you ended up hitting your head on the concrete causing you to get a concussion,
and your consciousness starts to fade in and out before you pass out, you also have some scraps and bruises too from the tackle, a big bump growing on your head.
Meanwhile your friend is just recording everything and taking photos and Hongjoog says to your friend, "hey could you air drop that to me.
To which your friend goes "I don't have an iphone anymore I can send it through Instagram though."
Hongjoong then responds "yeah that's fine"
So your friend send the videos and photos to Hongjoong which he immediately posts onto his instagram account.
When they suddenly hear yelling, both your friend, Hongjoong, and San look over to see Seongwha yelling at the others, especially yelling at Jongho for tackling you.
San is already on the phone for 911 which your friend overhears him saying She got tackled and is unconscious and probably has a concussion" Sirens are heard shortly after which the paramedics promptly load you into the ambulance.
Seongwha, San, Hongjoong, manager, and CEO are all apologizing to your friend about what just happened.
-TIME SKIP TO THE HOSPITAL-
You gain consciousness and your friend is sittting in the hospital chair by your bed but you quickly notice the buff ass man,
that is on his knees on the floor and is apologizing over and over to you when he noticed that you have woken up.
The ceo then proceeds to walk in to apologize to you with Hongjoong and Seongwha behind them, (the others are in time out)
to which he promptly has Seongwha drag San out, which Seongwha does but not in the way the CEO meant, he proceeds to drag San out literally, by San's shirt.
The CEO then promptly apologizes to you and hands you his buisness card and informs you that he has covered
your hospital bill.
Then your friend shoves their phone practically into your face and says loudly "The video of you that Hongjoong posted is trending! You're famous!"
To which you respond with "oh my god"
Hongjoong is seen beaming that he made an Atiny famous by posting the video and photos.
The doctor comes in and informs you that you should be fine to go back to your hotel, but there will be required regular check ups once a week, for the rest of the month. To which you happily get up after being freed from the machines. You then quickly leave after getting dressed as your friend brought you a change of clothes.
The CEO insists on having their driver drive you and your friend back to the hotel. However before you leave you notice somethingâŚ
Is that your friend and Hongjoong chatting!? They already got this close just in this amount of time?! To which you promptly tease your friend about in the car on the way to the hotel,
-TIME SKIP TO NEXT DAY-
The friend ends up getting a text from Hongjoong asking how you are doing and that he would like to invite Your friend and you to dinner and to give a tour around KQ Entertainment.
To which you find out about this after hearing their door slamming shut and loud ass running footsteps that are getting closer to your hotel room followed by loud ass banging on the door.
When you open the door you see your friend standing there heavy breathing before they excitedly and loudly exclaim "PUT ON YOUR BEST CLOTHES HONGJOONG INVITED US TO DINNER,
AND A TOUR AROUND KQ ENTERTAINMENT! NO IF ANDS OR BUTS MEET ME IN THE LOBBY IN ONE HOUR" Your friend then promptly runs off before you can respond so they can get ready.
You sigh and start getting ready knowing your friend they'll drag you there if they have to.
-TIME SKIP TO DINNER-
Your friend ended up sitting next to Hongjoong and you, while you ended up sitting next to your friend and Mingi.
Your friend quickly ends up in a conversation with Hongjoong, however you are just sitting there awkwardly until Mingi starts a conversation with you. He first starts out by apologizing to you because of Seongwha's words to the rest of the boys earlier, and the stern look he was giving Mingi.
He apologizes to you about his actions and what happened to which you tell him it's okay bro that concussion was worth it. To which Mingi bursts out laughing. For the rest of the dinner you ended up mainly chatting with him.
When it came time for the tour you end up walking next to Mingi, and your friend ends up walking next to Hongjoong as Seongwha gives you both the tour.
At the end of the tour you see a sulking Jongho walk up to you and apologize for tackling you, causing you to be put into the hospital. You later find out that he was practically grounded from doing anything for at least a whole month for tackling you.
After the tour and the whole situation you and your friend up staying in contact with ATEEZ. Two NDAs were formed. One for you and Mingi, and the other for your friend and Hongjoong.
Synopsis:"It felt like a dream, what was happening. You were just going back home. And thenâ you were killed.... Yes you remember now, you had an accident. But why are you alive then? And why was everyone calling you the priest's daughter? But it was nice though. Feeling important. Until you were taken to the palace. Ok maybe you wouldn't prefer being THIS important. And now, you were stuck, forced to "tame" monsters. But damn their human form was handsome as fuck. Is everyone in this realm handsome like this? You tried your best to do as you were told, but with their varying personalities and charms, you couldn't help but adore them. But do they think the same as you? I mean they obviously don't have an ulterior motive right?
Pairing: ot8!Ateez x Reader
Tags/warnings: accident, character death, cutting flesh (?), manipulation, gaslighting, somewhat captivity, so far these are ones I've found
AN: Yesss so my series is here I'm so happy. I'm just gonna write. I don't know about the updating schedule bcuz my writings are all over the place but it'll not take too much time (atleast I hope so)
Yeah the "monsters" or the beasts" of this series are inspired from the Nine Titans from AOT. If y'all have not watched the anime, id recommend it's very good. And even if y'all haven't, I hope it'll not be too hard to understand as I've tried my best to write them to make y'all understand
Also special thanks to @kymimi for giving me this prompt to write with. I love uu
If u wanna be tagged in this series please comment here in this post!
Warnings: dark stuff, captivity, stockholm syndrome vibes, injury by glass shards, manipulation, san is kinda scary, and hot, the reader is a dancer, yeah I still dk how to do this
AN: If you are sensitive to things like this please don't read it. This has some dark stuff. @kymimi I kinda slipped and wrote san instead of the member we discussed BUT dw I'll write him another one :)
Masterlist
The kingdom of Eldoria was like a painting come to life. Pastel-colored houses lined the streets, their rooftops reflecting the golden hues of the sun. Flowers of every shade bloomed along the cobbled paths, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. Towering trees provided shade to the people who gathered in the plazas, laughing and conversing freely. The kingdom was peaceful, its people content, and at the heart of it all was their beloved princessâYN.
YN was the embodiment of grace and perfection. Her long, flowing hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her warm smile was enough to bring comfort to anyone who crossed her path. She was not only admired for her beauty but also for her sharp mind and kind heart. Unlike the sheltered royals of other lands, YN roamed freely among her people, visiting markets, studying at the grand library, and even lending a hand at the flower fields when she wished to.
Her days were spent in harmony with the kingdom, and her nights were filled with dreams of the future. But even in a perfect kingdom, change was inevitable.
But that was not it. You see, Princess YN had a great talentâone that set her apart even more. She was a dancer.
From the moment she took her first steps as a child, it was clear that movement came naturally to her. As she grew, so did her love for dance. She dedicated a good portion of her day to perfecting her skills, attending classes with the finest instructors in the kingdom. But it wasnât just about learning techniques or rehearsing stepsâdancing was her freedom, her escape, her way of expressing emotions words could not.
In the grand ballroom of the palace, with its gleaming marble floors and towering windows, she would practice tirelessly. The music would swell, and she would lose herself in it, her body moving with effortless grace. The palace staff often paused to watch in quiet admiration, for when their princess danced, it was as if the entire world held its breath.
But YN never danced for attention or praise. She danced because it made her feel alive. And if she had it her way, she would dance forever.
But beyond the peaceful lands of Eldoria, past the rolling green hills and glistening rivers, lay another kingdomâone far greater in size, power, and influence.
The Kingdom of Celestara.
Unlike Eldoria, which flourished with soft colors and open gardens, Celestara stood as a testament to strength. Its towering castles were made of dark stone, its capital bustling with soldiers and scholars alike. The people of Celestara were strong and disciplined, raised with a deep sense of duty to their homeland. Their kingdom thrived under an unshakable rule, one that had made Celestara the most feared and respected land across the continent.
And at the heart of it all sat King Choi San.
San was no ordinary ruler. He was a king who valued power above all elseânot just for himself, but for his kingdom. He had inherited a land that had been built on blood and steel, and he ruled it with an iron will. His people loved him, for under his reign, Celestara never knew famine, never fell to invaders, and never saw weakness. But to outsiders, he was a name that sent shivers down their spines.
Because King San did not tolerate defiance.
It was not cruelty for the sake of cruelty. No, San saw his punishments as necessaryâtools to maintain order. A merchant caught cheating his people was stripped of his wealth and cast into the dungeons. A noble who conspired against him found their house burned to the ground, their name erased from history. And if a kingdom dared to challenge Celestara, they were met with fire and steel. His warriors, trained from childhood, were unmatched, and his war strategies were so ruthless that no one dared to question his rule.
No one opposed King Choi San and lived to tell the tale.
He was ruthless, reckless even. A man who did not just command powerâhe relished in it. King Choi San was not content with ruling Celestara alone. No, he wanted more. He wanted everything.
War was not just a necessity to him; it was a thrill. The sight of his enemies kneeling before him, their once-proud banners torn and trampled beneath his boots, brought him a satisfaction that nothing else could. He did not believe in mercy. He did not believe in compromise. He believed in dominance, in bending the world to his will.
His father, the former king, had shared that same hunger. Before his death, he had left behind a listâa detailed record of the lands he had set his sights on, the territories he had dreamed of conquering but never had the chance to. It was a kingâs unfinished legacy, a vision left incomplete.
San did not just inherit his fatherâs kingdom. He inherited his ambitions.
And he would see them through.
The list had dozens of names written in careful ink, each representing a kingdom, a nation, a people who had yet to bow to Celestaraâs might. Some had already fallen, their lands absorbed into Sanâs ever-growing empire. But there were still many left to claim.
One of them was Eldoria.
A peaceful kingdom, untouched by war, ruled by a gentle king and adored by its people. A land that had never known the weight of a conquerorâs hand.
San had heard of Eldoria before. A place where flowers bloomed endlessly, where the streets were painted in soft pastels. It was the complete opposite of Celestara. A kingdom so delicate, so naĂŻve, that it almost amused him.
Almost.
Because at the end of the day, Eldoria was just another name on his fatherâs list. Another land that would soon belong to him.
And King Choi San never left things unfinished.
So that was what happened to Eldoria.
One fateful evening, King Choi San arrived at the gates of the peaceful kingdom, not as a guest, but as a conqueror in waiting. He did not come aloneâhis army, clad in dark armor, stood behind him like an unshakable force, their banners casting long shadows over Eldoriaâs pastel streets. The moment his presence was announced in the royal palace, a chill ran through the halls.
King Eldrin, YNâs father, knew why San had come. He had heard the stories, knew the fate of the kingdoms that had stood in Celestaraâs path. But still, he held onto hope.
Inside the grand throne room, the two kings faced each other.
âI will give you one chance,â San said, his voice calm yet laced with authority. âSurrender Eldoria to Celestara. Swear your allegiance, and I will allow your people to live under my rule without bloodshed.â
King Eldrin did not hesitate. âI will not surrender my land,â he said firmly, but his voice held no arroganceâonly reason. âHowever, I propose an alliance. We do not have to be enemies. Our kingdoms can stand together, share trade, strengthen each other.â
San chuckled, a slow, amused sound. âAn alliance?â He leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting. âTell me, King Eldrin, what does your peaceful kingdom have to offer me that I do not already have?â
âWe have wisdom, knowledge, and beauty. We haveââ
âI do not need beauty,â San interrupted, his amusement vanishing. âI need power. Strength. Land.â His fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword. âAnd I will not ask twice.â
Eldrinâs jaw tightened. âThen you have my answer.â
San exhaled, a mockery of disappointment. âA shame,â he murmured. Then, with a glance at his general, he spoke the words that sealed Eldoriaâs fate.
âWe march at dawn.â
The war did not last long.
Eldoria, despite its beauty, was not built for battle. Its people were artists, scholars, farmersânot warriors. They fought bravely, but Celestaraâs army was relentless. Swords clashed, fires burned, and the soft-colored streets of Eldoria were soon painted in shades of ash and crimson.
Within days, the palace fell.
King Choi San did what he always didâhe erased the royal family.
The moment the palace fell, there was no room for mercy. The king was the first to go, struck down in his own throne room, his crown rolling across the marble floor. The queen followed soon after, her desperate pleas for peace silenced forever. The crown prince, the last hope for Eldoriaâs future, fought bravely, but bravery alone could not save him from Celestaraâs steel.
San watched it all with a cold, unwavering gaze. Another kingdom conquered. Another royal bloodline wiped from existence. Just as it should be.
With the palace now under Celestaraâs control, he prepared to leave. There was no need for him to stay any longer. His men would handle the restâsecuring the city, ensuring the people understood that they now belonged to him. He had no interest in Eldoriaâs ruins; his work here was done.
Or so he thought.
A soldier rushed into the war room, his armor still stained with battle. He bowed quickly, his breath uneven.
âMy king,â he said. âThere is word of another.â
San barely spared him a glance. âAnother what?â
âA survivor. A princess.â
The words made him pause.
A princess?
San had not known Eldoria had a princess. He frowned, turning fully to the soldier. âAnd where is she?â
âWe do not know.â
Sanâs expression darkened. âExplain.â
âShe was not in the palace when we arrived,â the soldier admitted. âWe searched every room, every hall. But she was nowhere to be found.â
The air in the room grew heavy. Sanâs grip on his sword tightened. He had never left a royal family unfinished. No loose ends. No survivors. And yet, here was a piece of Eldoriaâs bloodline still unaccounted for.
His jaw clenched. âFind her.â
Thus began the search.
Sanâs men scoured every corner of the palace, tearing through lavish chambers, hidden passages, and forgotten halls. San was not a man who accepted failure. He ordered a deeper searchâevery stone overturned, every locked door broken open.
And finally, they found it.
A hidden room, tucked away behind the grand library. The entrance had been expertly concealed, nearly impossible to notice unless one was searching for it. But now, the secret was uncovered.
San arrived immediately.
The heavy bookcase that had once hidden the doorway was now pushed aside, revealing a narrow passage leading into a small chamber. It was nothing like the lavish royal rooms he had seen before. This space was simpleâbare walls, a single candle flickering in the dim light, and a modest wooden desk placed in the center.
And sitting at that desk was a girl.
She had not heard them enter at first, her focus entirely on the parchment before her. Her delicate hand moved swiftly, ink staining her fingertips as she wrote something with quiet urgency. It was only when she sensed the shift in the airâwhen the heavy presence of someone else filled the roomâthat she finally looked up.
Her eyes widened.
San met her gaze, and in that instant, he knew.
This was her.
The missing princess. The last surviving member of Eldoriaâs royal family.
She had been here all along, hidden away while her kingdom burned. Sheltered while her family perished.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The candlelight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the quiet shock in her expression. San took a step forward, his boots echoing in the small space. The girl did not move, her fingers still curled around the quill, as if caught between fight and flight.
He exhaled slowly.
âFound you.â
San was a terrifying man. His presence alone filled the small room with an unshakable weight, his dark eyes locked onto YN with an intensity that made her stomach twist. She had heard of him beforeâKing Choi San, the ruthless conqueror. The man who had taken her home, erased her family, and claimed Eldoria as his own.
Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to move. Slowly, she stood from her chair, her gaze dropping to the ground as if in surrender.
But she was not surrendering.
Her fingers tightened around the ink glass on the desk. And before she could think twice, she threw it.
The small bottle spun through the air, aimed directly at his knees.
Sanâs reflexes were fastâtoo fast. He shifted at the last second, the ink missing its target. Instead, it crashed against the floor, shattering into tiny pieces. Black ink spilled in a messy puddle between them, staining the stone beneath their feet.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then San exhaled, his lips curling into something unreadable. Not quite amusement, not quite anger.
Slowly, he stepped forward, his boots avoiding the ink, his piercing gaze never leaving her face.
âCute,â he murmured, voice low. âYou thought that would stop me?â
YN looked up just as San took another step closer, his presence suffocating in the small room. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she didnât let her fear show. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze.
âNo,â she said, voice steady. âBut this will.â
Before he could react, she pulled a small knife from the folds of her dress and lunged forward.
She moved fast, aiming for his chest, but he was faster.
Sanâs hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-strike. With effortless strength, he twisted it, forcing her to drop the knife. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain shot through her arm, but she refused to cry out. The blade clattered against the floor, useless now.
Sanâs grip remained firm as he pushed her down, forcing her onto her knees before him. YN struggled, but it was no use. He was stronger, unmovable.
Then, to her shock, he reached out and brushed the strands of hair from her face. It was a gentle touch, almost delicate. If it were anyone else, it might have seemed comforting. But this was King Choi San.
And from him, it was terrifying.
His fingers trailed along her cheek before tucking her hair behind her ear. His dark eyes studied her, unreadable, as if he were trying to understand something.
âYouâve got fight in you,â he murmured, his voice quiet, almost amused. âI like that.â
His words sent a shiver down her spine. This man had slaughtered her family, burned her kingdom to the ground, and now, here he was, treating her as if she were something⌠interesting.
Her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But she was trapped.
San tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction. Then, he leaned down, just enough to whisper,
âBut fighting me is useless.â
San looked down at her, his expression unreadable. His grip on her wrist loosened just slightly, but the weight of his presence remained suffocating.
âYou know,â he said casually, as if discussing the weather, âI came here to kill you.â
YNâs breath caught in her throat.
Of course, he did. That was what he always did. He had erased her family, wiped out her kingdom, and now, it was her turn.
She lowered her gaze, staring at the ink-stained floor. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, but she did not beg. She would not give him that satisfaction. There was nothing left for her anymore. No family. No home. No future.
So she closed her eyes and accepted her fate.
But thenâ
âBut,â San mused, tilting his head, âyouâre too pretty to kill.â
Her eyes snapped open, looking up at him in shock.
He smirked, his fingers once again brushing her cheek, this time lingering just a bit longer. âIt would be a shame to waste something so⌠delicate.â
She stiffened, her stomach twisting with disgust. Was he toying with her? Mocking her? What was worseâdeath, or whatever fate he had in mind?
âNo,â she whispered, barely realizing she had spoken. Then, louder, her voice rising in panic, âNoâjust kill me.â
San chuckled. Low, dark, entertained.
âOh?â He crouched in front of her, their faces now painfully close. âIs that what you want?â
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Sanâs smirk widened. He was enjoying thisâher fear, her resistance, her despair.
âToo bad,â he murmured, gripping her chin lightly and forcing her to hold his gaze. âI think Iâll take you instead.â
YN stood up slowly, her legs shaking beneath her, but her gaze remained locked onto his. She expected him to rise as well, to tower over her like the conqueror he was, but he didnât.
San remained crouched, looking up at her from his lower position, his dark eyes steady and sharp. It was unsettlingâhow comfortable he was, how unbothered by her defiance. His face was closeâtoo close. Close enough that if she moved even slightly, he would be able to feel the fabric of her dress brush against him.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
And then, she moved.
She dashed to the side, making a sharp turn around him. Her feet barely touched the ground as she made her escape, her breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she thought she had done it. She had gone around him. She had gotten past him.
But she had forgotten.
The shattered glass. The ink. The mess on the floor from when she had thrown the ink bottle at him earlier.
The moment her bare foot touched the shards, a sharp, searing pain shot up her leg.
She sucked in a breath, but she didnât stop. She forced herself forward, reaching the doorway that led out of the hidden chamber. She had made itâjust barely.
But then, her body betrayed her.
The pain was too much. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed just outside the room, her breath coming in short gasps. Her feet throbbed violently, fresh blood pooling beneath her.
The pain in her feet was unbearable. Tiny shards of glass had pierced into her skin, some embedding deep into the soles of her feet, while others cut shallow but still bled. Ink mixed with her blood, creating a dark, messy trail behind her.
She couldnât run anymore.
Her feet throbbed, her breaths were uneven, and she could already feel the warm trickle of blood running down her heels. Every movement sent fresh pain through her body.
Behind her, the room remained silent.
She could feel him still there. Watching. Waiting.
And thenâ
A slow, deliberate sound.
The sound of boots shifting against the stone floor.
San was standing up.
He stood up, the slow, deliberate movement filling the space with an unspoken finality. His boots pressed against the shattered glass on the floor, the sharp shards crunching beneath the heavy soles. The sound echoed in the small chamber, a cruel reminder of the difference between themâher bare, bloodied feet and his untouched, armored ones.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
Slow. Steady. As if he had all the time in the world.
YN could feel the weight of his gaze on her, sharp and unyielding, like a predator toying with its prey. She knewâhe knewâthat she wouldnât make it far. Even if she ran, even if she forced herself to her feet and pushed through the pain, it wouldnât matter. He would catch her. He would always catch her.
But she wasnât going to just sit there.
The moment his shadow loomed over her, she pushed herself back. Her hands scraped against the cold stone floor as she tried to crawl away, her injured feet dragging behind her, leaving smudges of inky blood in her wake. It hurtâoh, it hurtâbut she didnât care. She would rather die trying than just sit there and accept whatever fate he had planned for her.
Outside the room, the few guards stationed there shifted uncertainly. One of them stepped forward as if to intervene, as if to do something.
San didnât even look at them. He simply flicked his fingers, a lazy motion, and they immediately hesitated. Then, without a word, they stepped back, leaving him to handle this alone.
YNâs breath was ragged as she dragged herself further, her palms burning against the rough stone. She felt helpless, weak, but she refused to stop. Even if it was useless, even if he reached her within seconds, she would not just sit there like a caged animal.
Her fingers curled against the cold floor as she lifted her head, looking up at him.
And there he was.
Towering over her now, his expression unreadable, his lips slightly curled as if in amusement.
San exhaled, tilting his head.
"Still fighting?" he mused, his voice low, smoothâdangerous.
His slow steps finally came to a stop.
She had barely gotten anywhere.
And now, he was standing right in front of her.
San sighed, his patience thinning. He crouched slightly, looking down at her with that same amused expression, but now there was something else in his gazeâimpatience.
âLetâs not fight,â he murmured, his voice deceptively soft. âCome now. Letâs go home.â
Home.
The word sent a shiver down YNâs spine. Home didnât exist anymore. Her home had been burned, her family slaughtered, her people forced under his rule. Wherever he wanted to take her, it wasnât home.
Still lying on the cold stone floor, she shook her head weakly. âNo.â
Sanâs jaw tightened. The amusement in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced with something colder. He exhaled sharply through his nose, as if he were growing tired of this game.
"Fine," he muttered.
Before she could react, she saw a flash of silverâsomething in his hand.
Her body tensed. She didnât know what it was, but she knew better than to wait and find out. Instinctively, she raised her arms to shield her face, bracing for impact.
Wrong move.
A sharp prick shot through the side of her neck.
Her eyes widened in shock as she felt something thin and metallic buried into her skin. It wasnât a knifeâit didnât slice or tear. It just pricked, leaving a dull, numbing sensation in its wake.
A syringe.
San had stabbed a syringe into her neck.
Her breath hitched as a strange dizziness washed over her. The world around her blurred, her limbs suddenly feeling heavy, too heavy to move. She tried to lift her hand, tried to reach for the object lodged in her skin, but her fingers barely twitched before her body gave out.
Her head fell against the cold floor, her vision swimming.
Above her, the last thing she saw was Sanâs face, watching her with a knowing smirk as the darkness swallowed her whole.
San looked down at her unconscious form, his smirk lingering as he admired his work. She had fought, resisted until the very last second, but in the end, it hadnât mattered. He was always going to win.
He exhaled, standing to his full height as he observed her limp body sprawled across the cold floor. The ink and blood smeared across the ground were the only remnants of her struggle.
Satisfied, he crouched down and slipped an arm beneath her, effortlessly lifting her into his arms. She was lightâfar too light for someone with so much fight in her. Her head lolled slightly against his shoulder, her breath slow and steady as the sedative coursed through her veins.
Holding her securely, San turned and walked towards the door.
The guards outside immediately straightened at the sight of their king emerging from the hidden room with the unconscious princess in his arms. They glanced at each other, uncertainty flickering in their eyes, but none dared to question him.
San stepped past them, his grip on YN firm but casual, as if carrying her was no different from carrying a mere possession.
Because thatâs exactly what she was now.
San stepped out into the open, the cool night air washing over him as he carried YN in his arms. The moment his men saw him, they stiffened, their expressions betraying their shock.
They had all expected him to emerge alone, having finished the job like he always did. Instead, here he wasâcarrying the princess, unconscious but very much alive.
One of the lead guards, a seasoned warrior with a deep scar across his cheek, stepped forward hesitantly. His gaze flickered between San and the girl in his arms before he spoke.
"Your Majesty," he began carefully, "should we finish her?"
The other guards waited in tense silence, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. It was a reasonable assumptionâSan had slaughtered the rest of the royal family without hesitation. Why would the princess be any different?
But San had already made his decision.
Without looking at the guard, he spoke, his voice calm yet unwavering.
"No."
The single word sent a ripple of confusion through the men.
San shifted YN slightly in his arms, glancing down at her unconscious face before turning his sharp gaze back to the guard.
"I'm taking her back to Celestara," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The guards exchanged uncertain glances, but no one dared to question him further.
San smirked, satisfied by their obedience. Then, without another word, he began walking towards his waiting carriage.
This war was over. The kingdom was his. And now, so was she.
With the princess in his grasp, he set off on the journey back to Celestaraâhis kingdom, his home.
And soon enough, hers as well.
YN blinked slowly, her mind hazy as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Her body felt heavy, her limbs sluggish, as if she had been asleep for far too long.
Where was she?
She forced herself to sit up, her fingers gripping the soft yet unfamiliar sheets beneath her. The bed was largeâfar larger than the one she had in Eldoria. And the roomâŚ
Her heart sank.
This wasnât Eldoria.
Eldoria was warm and bright, filled with pastel colors, soft fabrics, and the gentle scent of flowers in the air. But this placeâthis place felt suffocating. The walls were dark, nearly black, with gold accents that gleamed under the dim lighting. Heavy drapes covered the windows, letting in only slivers of light. The furniture was grand, elegant, yet cold, as if meant to intimidate rather than comfort.
She hated it.
Perhaps it was because she had spent her entire life surrounded by brightness, but the darkness of this place made her uneasy. It felt foreign, unfamiliarâwrong.
Her breath quickened as she swung her legs over the bed, only to wince as a sharp pain shot through her feet.
The glass.
She had run through shattered glass.
Carefully, she lifted her feet and saw the bandages wrapped around them, fresh and neatly done. Someone had treated her injuries.
Someone hadâ
Her stomach twisted.
San.
Memories of what had happened before she blacked out came rushing back. The invasion. The loss. His voice, smooth and taunting. The sharp prick of the syringe in her neck.
Panic clawed at her chest as she looked around frantically, searching for a way out.
But the door was closed.
And she had no doubtâit was locked.
YN sat at the edge of the massive bed, her fingers digging into the sheets as she tried to steady herself. The weight of everything crashed down on her all at once.
Her family was gone.
Her home was gone.
And now, she was hereâtrapped in a place that wasnât hers, surrounded by walls that felt like they were closing in on her.
Her vision blurred as her throat tightened. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But what good would that do?
She lowered her gaze to her bandaged feet. She couldnât even walk. She had been so desperate to escape, but in the end, she had only hurt herself. And now, she was left completely vulnerable, at the mercy of the very man who had taken everything from her.
San.
The thought of his name sent a shiver down her spine.
The ruthless king of Celestara. The man who had murdered her family without hesitation. The man who had stolen her home and claimed it as his own.
And now, she was his captive.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips, but it got caught in her throat. There was nothing amusing about this. There was no way out.
She was truly, utterly defeated.
YN sat there for what felt like hours, unmoving, lost in the crushing weight of her thoughts. The silence of the room only made it worse, suffocating her, making her feel even more trapped.
Thenâ
Click.
The door creaked open.
Her entire body tensed.
Her fingers curled into the sheets, her heart pounding as she stared at the entrance, dreading whatâor whoâmight step inside.
And then she saw him.
San.
He walked in like he owned the place. Which, of course, he did.
But that didnât make it any less infuriating.
His presence filled the room instantly, his posture relaxed, confidentâcompletely at ease, as if nothing was out of place. As if he hadnât just destroyed her entire life.
YN swallowed hard, her throat dry.
She hated him.
She hated the way he moved so carelessly, as if everything was just a game to him. She hated the way he looked at her, like he knew she was powerless against him. She hated that even though she wanted to scream, to throw something, to fightâshe couldnât.
Not like this.
Not when she could barely even stand.
Fear crept up her spine, mixing with the anger burning in her chest. She hated him. She feared him. But most of allâshe resented the fact that he had complete control over her now.
San stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her. A smirk tugged at his lips, slow and deliberate, as if he was enjoying the sight of herâsmall, wounded, and utterly trapped.
He took a step inside, and even though his movements were unhurried, they carried an undeniable authority. Every step he took echoed in the large, darkened room, the soft click of his boots against the floor sending a shiver down YNâs spine.
She gripped the sheets tighter.
He was terrifying.
And that was exactly what made him so dangerous.
He wasnât just some brute who barked orders and swung his sword mindlessly. No, San was something much worse. He was calculated. He was smart. And worst of all, he enjoyed having control over people.
âYouâre awake,â he mused, his voice smooth yet dripping with something sinister.
YN didnât respond.
He didnât need her to. He was already closing the distance between them, his movements slow, predatory, as if he wanted her to feel the power he held over her.
Her breath hitched as he stopped right in front of her.
She refused to look up at him. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
But San wasnât the type to be ignored.
With an amused chuckle, he crouched down so that he was eye-level with her.
âNot going to greet your king?â he murmured, tilting his head. His voice was deep, teasing, but there was an undeniable edge to it. A warning.
YN finally forced herself to meet his gazeâand immediately regretted it.
He was too close.
Far too close.
His dark eyes gleamed under the dim lighting, filled with something unreadable. His sharp jawline, the way his lips curled ever so slightlyâit was unfair how someone so cruel could look so good.
She hated it.
She hated that her heart pounded for reasons beyond just fear.
When she still didnât speak, San exhaled sharply and reached out.
She flinched as his fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her face up. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but that only made it worse.
âYouâre trembling,â he noted, his voice quiet, almost mocking. âScared of me, little princess?â
YN clenched her jaw, trying to will away the fear in her expression.
San chuckled. âGood. You should be.â
His grip tightened, just enough for her to feel it, just enough to remind her that she was at his mercy.
And yetâ
The way he looked at her, the slow drag of his eyes down her face, the way his lips parted slightly as if he was enjoying every second of thisâ
He was terrifying.
And that made him even more dangerous.
San watched her, his lips quirking up in amusement at her stubbornness. She was scared, angry, and exhausted, yet still refused to take anything from him. It was almost admirable. Almost.
With a sigh, he reached for the glass of water sitting on the bedside desk. His fingers wrapped around the crystal, and he swirled the liquid inside lazily before turning back to her.
âWhy donât you drink some?â His voice was smooth, deep, like velvet laced with something dangerous.
âI donât want water,â YN muttered, looking away.
San chuckled, low and rich. âCome on, princess. I didnât poison it.â
He lifted the glass to his own lips, tilting it back ever so slightly.
YN couldnât look away.
The way he drankâslow, deliberateâwas unfair. A bit of water slipped past the corner of his lips, trailing down his jaw. He swiped his thumb across his mouth, wiping away the stray droplet before licking it off his thumb without a second thought.
Her stomach twisted, and heat crept up her neck.
San caught the way her eyes flickered to his lips, and his smirk deepened.
âSee?â he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned in, holding the glass out to her, his fingers brushing against hers. âItâs not poisoned.â
She hesitated.
San sighed dramatically. âDrink up, princess. I donât want you to die.â
His words should have been comforting, but the way he said themâslow, teasing, like he enjoyed her discomfortâonly made her more unsettled.
Still, she knew she had no choice.
With shaky fingers, she took the glass from him.
San didnât move back.
He stayed close, watching her with dark, expectant eyes, waiting to see if she would obey.
And that was the worst part.
Because as much as she hated him, as much as she wanted to fightâhe always got what he wanted.
San had no shame. Not even a shred of it.
As YN lifted the glass to her lips, tilting her head back slightly to drink, his eyes shamelessly trailed down to her neck.
He watched the way her throat moved with each swallow, the soft curve of her collarbone barely peeking from the loose neckline of her dress. His gaze lingered, unbothered, unapologetic.
San was no saint.
He never pretended to be one.
And right now, he wasnât even trying to hide the fact that he was enjoying the sight in front of him.
He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he let his gaze drag over her slowly, taking in every little detail. The way her lips parted slightly after drinking, the way a stray droplet of water slipped down the side of her mouth.
Before she could wipe it away, he reached out.
His thumb brushed against her chin, slow, deliberate.
YN froze.
Sanâs eyes flickered to hers, his touch lingering just a second too long before he finally pulled away.
âGood girl,â he murmured, voice smooth like honey, but laced with something undeniably sinful. âSee? That wasnât so hard, was it?â
YN clenched her jaw, gripping the empty glass tightly.
She hated him.
But the way he looked at her, like he could devour her whole, made her feel things she shouldnât be feeling.
And San?
San knew exactly what he was doing.
âWhat do you want from me?â YNâs voice was sharp, filled with both exhaustion and defiance.
San simply stared at her, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, with a slow, almost innocent tilt of his head, he said, âNothing.â
Liar.
She knew he was toying with her. She felt it in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at herâas if she was some intriguing puzzle he wanted to take apart piece by piece.
She couldnât let him do this.
Without thinking, she lifted her hand, aiming to strike him, to wipe that infuriating expression off his face.
But San was faster.
Much faster.
Before she could make contact, his hand shot up, fingers curling around her neck with practiced ease. He wasnât squeezingâhe didnât need to. The sheer weight of his touch, the way his thumb pressed lightly against the delicate skin of her throat, was enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
With effortless strength, he pushed her back.
She fell against the pillows, her body sinking into the soft mattress as he hovered over her.
And then, for the briefest moment, San stilled.
His grip loosened slightly as he took her in.
Her doe eyes, wide and glaring up at him, holding a mix of fury and something he couldnât quite place. Her lips, parted ever so slightly, her breath coming in uneven puffs. And her hairâGod, her hairâspilled in every direction, a wild halo of silk against the dark sheets.
Beautiful.
He had always admired beautiful things.
But thisâher, beneath him, looking like something he wanted to ruinâthis was something else entirely.
His fingers twitched against her throat, and he let out a quiet hum, his gaze darkening as he leaned in just a fraction.
YN could barely breathe.
Not because of his holdâno, he wasnât choking her. But because of the way he looked at her, like he was memorizing every detail, like he owned her already.
San smirked, his voice dangerously soft as he murmured, âYouâre breathtaking, princess.â
San let go of her slowly, his fingers trailing from her throat to her collarbone before finally pulling away. He watched her for a second longer, his smirk never faltering, thenâjust like thatâhe backed up.
No words. No explanation.
He simply turned on his heel and walked away.
YN lay there, her heart hammering against her ribs as she stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.
The door creaked open.
For a moment, she thought he might say something, might throw one last taunt her way. But he didnât.
He left.
The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving her alone in the deafening silence of the room.
And yet, even with him gone, the ghost of his touch lingered on her skin.
A few days has passed. YN had barely slept, her mind too clouded with the events of that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. The way he had looked at her, the way he had touched herâthe way he had enjoyed watching her squirm beneath him. She hated him.
She hated that she was here, hated that she was still alive when her family wasnât.
A soft knock at the door startled her. A maid entered, bowing slightly before speaking. âHis Majesty requests your presence for breakfast.â
YN frowned. A maid? She hadnât expected anyone to treat her with respectâshe thought she would be tossed into a dungeon, starved, forgotten. But no. She was being served. It unsettled her.
Still, she said nothing and complied, following the maid through the grand halls of the palace. The castle was just as dark and overbearing as she had thought it would be, its walls decorated with deep gold accents and tall, menacing windows. Nothing about it was warm. Just like him.
When they reached the dining hall, the large doors were pushed open, revealing an elegant table set with more food than she had seen in days. Her stomach twisted, but not from hunger. Because there, seated at the head of the table, was San. And he was already watching her. Her appetite vanished instantly.
San smirked, leaning forward slightly as he rested his chin on his hand. âGood morning, princess.â
YN swallowed, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
She refused to answer.
Instead, she slowly walked toward the table, forcing herself to keep her back straight as she sat down. The maid moved to pour her a drink, but she barely noticed.
All she could feel was his gaze.
San chuckled, clearly amused by her discomfort. âWhatâs wrong? Not hungry?â
YN clenched her jaw. Hungry? How could she eat in front of the very man who had stolen her kingdom, who had killed her family? She gripped the silverware in front of her, trying to steady herself, trying not to snap. But the longer she sat there, the more unbearable it became.
San leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.
âEat, princess,â he murmured, voice dripping with mockery. âI donât want you starving on me.â
YN clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress beneath the table. She forced a smile, though her teeth were gritted in pure loathing.
"I wouldn't dare eat before His Majesty," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
San only smirked at her response, clearly entertained. He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table before tilting his head. "Thatâs sweet of you, princess," he mused. "But I insist. I want my little princess to eat first."
Before she could protest, he reached for a piece of meat, slicing it with ease. He speared the piece with a fork and, without hesitation, held it up to her lips.
"Open."
YN stared at him, unimpressed. "I donât eat meat."
Sanâs smirk didnât falter. If anything, it deepened.
"Too bad," he said, his voice void of sympathy. "You need to follow orders, princess."
His tone was firm now, leaving no room for argument. He wasnât asking. He was commanding.
YN swallowed, her breath steady despite the way her stomach churned. She didnât want to obey himâshe refused to. But she knew how dangerous he was. She had seen it with her own eyes.
San was ruthless. And he would enjoy making her suffer if she disobeyed.
Still, she didnât move.
San sighed dramatically, lowering the fork slightly. "Do I need to feed you myself?" he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.
YN clenched her fists beneath the table.
She had lost her kingdom. She had lost her family.
And now, she was losing control.
But what choice did she have?
YN hesitated for a moment, her stomach twisting in revulsion. But the look in Sanâs eyes told her there was no room for negotiation.
Slowly, reluctantly, she parted her lips.
San smirked in satisfaction and pushed the piece of meat into her mouth. His fingers brushed against her lips ever so slightly, lingering for just a second too long before pulling away.
She wanted to spit it out. Gods, she wanted to spit it out. But she didnât. She forced herself to chew, swallowing the bite with as much grace as she could muster.
San watched her the entire time, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
"Good girl," he murmured.
Her fingers twitched. She wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.
Instead, she reached for the glass of water beside her, desperately trying to wash away the taste of the meat that burned her throat like poison.
San leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied her. "That wasnât so hard, was it?"
YN didnât answer. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
San chuckled. He could see the anger burning in her eyes, the way her entire body tensed with barely restrained rage. Oh, how he enjoyed this. Watching her fight against her own pride, watching her struggle between her hatred for him and her will to survive.
"Youâll get used to it," he said lazily, taking another bite of his own food.
YN swallowed down her fury. She had to be careful. She had to be smart.
She wasnât just a prisoner in this palaceâshe was a captive in his hands. And San was playing a game.
She just didnât know the rules yet.
YN sat stiffly in her seat, her stomach churning with disgustânot just from the food, but from him.
San, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He ate slowly, savoring every bite, his sharp eyes flickering toward her every now and then, like a predator keeping an eye on his prey.
When he was done, he wiped his mouth with a cloth, then tossed it onto the table carelessly. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.
Then, without warning, he stood.
YN instinctively tensed as he walked around the table. His boots echoed against the marble floor, each step heavy, purposeful. She kept her gaze locked on the table, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat. But San didnât stop until he was standing right behind her.
She felt his presence before she saw him. The heat radiating from him, the way the air around her seemed to shift. Thenâ
A hand.
Slow, deliberate fingers brushing over her shoulder.
YN flinched, but she refused to move. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.
San leaned down, his breath warm against the side of her neck.
"You surprise me, princess," he murmured, his voice smooth, deep. "I thought youâd be more difficult. But you listened. You obeyed." His fingers trailed up, brushing the strands of her hair away from her neck. YNâs breath hitched, but she kept her face blank, forcing herself to stare at the empty plate in front of her.
"Maybe you're smarter than I thought," San mused, his tone dripping with amusement.
Then, without warning, he grabbed her chin, tilting her head back so she was forced to look at him.
Her breath caught in her throat.
His eyes. Dark. Intense. Amused.
A smirk played at his lips, and for a terrifying moment, she swore he looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"Or maybe," he whispered, tilting his head slightly, "youâre just waiting for the right moment to fight back."
YNâs pulse pounded in her ears. San chuckled, his grip on her chin tightening just slightly before he let go. He straightened, taking a step back, but his presence still loomed over her.
"Either way," he said, voice smooth, "Iâm looking forward to it."
As San spoke, his fingers lazily twirled a lock of her hair between them. The contrast was eerieâthe way his voice was dark and commanding, yet his touch was almost gentle. Almost.
YN swallowed hard, keeping her expression blank, but inside, she was unraveling.
Why was he doing this? Why was he toying with her like this?
San hummed, his fingers drifting lower, brushing through the strands like he had all the time in the world. "Soft," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
She clenched her fists under the table. She wanted to jerk away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep her still. Not painfullyâno, that wasnât his style. He didnât need to use force. His presence alone was enough to keep her frozen. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against the top of her head.
"You have no idea how much I enjoy this," he mused, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Seeing you like this. Trying so hard to keep your composure, when I knowâ" he tugged her hair lightly, making her tilt her head back just enough to meet his gaze "âthat inside, youâre burning."
YN gritted her teeth.
San smirked, his fingers giving one last slow glide through her hair before finallyâfinallyâhe let go.
"Keep up the act, princess," he murmured, straightening. "Letâs see how long you last." And with that, he walked away, leaving YN sitting there, her breath uneven, her body tense.
Her hair still tingled from his touch.
She hated it. She hated him.
It had been days since YN had been trapped in this dark, unfamiliar place. The once-proud princess of Eldoria, now nothing more than a caged bird under the watchful eye of a ruthless king.
During those days, she had no purpose. No books to read, no people to talk to, nothing. Just the sound of the ticking clock and the occasional knock of a servant bringing her food.
And then there was him.
San.
He would come in whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he would simply stand there, watching her like she was some fascinating puzzle he was trying to solve. Other times, he would speak, his voice smooth and teasing, dripping with manipulation.
"Are you lonely, princess? You donât have to be. You just have to behave."
"What a shame. You were once so free, and now you have nothing. But donât worryâI can give you something. You only have to ask."
And then he would leave, always before she could snap back, before she could gather her words.
It was driving her insane.
Not the captivity, not even the fearâthe boredom.
He wouldn't let her do anything. No dancing, no walking outside, no distractions.
She was starting to feel like a doll left on a shelf, waiting for the moment he decided to pick her up and play his twisted little games.
She hated him.
She hated how he controlled everythingâher time, her space, even the very air she breathed in his presence.
And she hated that, despite everything, he still had the nerve to act like he was enjoying this more than she was suffering.
San sat in his grand chamber, the dim candlelight casting sharp shadows over his sharp features. He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the armrest while the other traced the rim of his wine glass. His thoughts, however, were far from idle.
She was going to be here for a while. That much was certain. And since she was his nowâhis possession, his captive, hisâit was only natural that he knew everything about her. So, he had sent his right-hand man to dig into her past.
It wasnât an easy task. After all, he had razed Eldoria to the ground, left nothing but ashes and ruins in his wake. Most of her kingdomâs history had burned with it.
But his man was efficient, and somehow, he had managed to unearth something.
San read through the parchment, his sharp eyes scanning every word. YNâonce a beloved princess, a figure of grace and kindness. People had adored her, and not just because she was royalty. She had been⌠good. She had spent her days tending to the kingdomâs gardens, running her fingers through delicate petals, ensuring that life flourished around her. She had a habit of visiting the commoners, speaking to them as if she were one of them.
She had been everything a ruler should be. San scoffed, amused. How naive. But what intrigued him the most was the last detail.
She had been a dancer. A dedicated one. Trained, disciplined, someone who had spent hours perfecting her craft.
San tapped his fingers against the table. A princess who danced. A girl who once moved freely, who now sat caged in his palace with nowhere to go.
He smirked. Oh, how he could use this.
San leaned back in his chair, his smirk deepening as he thought about it. A princess who danced, who tended to flowers, who was gentleâa true princess in every sense. She was nothing like the women he had encountered before, hardened by war or desperate for power.
She was delicate. Refined. Soft. And she was his now.
The idea of her being his personal entertainer amused him. The once-proud princess, forced to dance solely for his pleasure. The same girl who had glared at him with pure hatred, who had tried to fight himâkneeling before him, moving gracefully under his command. The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine. He wanted to see it. Wanted to watch her move, watch her surrender that grace to him.
His fingers drummed against the table as he made up his mind.
He would give her no choice. If she was going to be here, if she was going to belong to him, then she would have to earn her place.
And what better way than by using the very thing that once made her special?
The heavy doors to her room slammed open without warning, the force of it making the walls tremble. YN flinched, her fingers tightening around the book she had been reading. She barely had a moment to process before San strode in, his presence overwhelming, suffocating even. He moved with that effortless confidence, like a predator who knew nothing could touch him. His dark clothing contrasted sharply against the golden glow of the candles, his sharp jawline cast in perfect shadow. His eyesâcold, calculatingâpinned her in place as he approached. He stopped right in front of her.
She had been sitting on the bed, legs tucked beneath her, the book resting in her lap. Now, she sat frozen under his piercing gaze.
San tilted his head slightly, studying her. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it moments ago. His lips curled, not in kindness, but in something far more sinisterâamusement, control, ownership.
"You look so comfortable," he mused, voice dangerously smooth. "It almost makes me forget you're a captive." She swallowed, trying not to react.
He reached forward, slow and deliberate, and plucked the book from her hands. His fingers ghosted over hers for a second, a contrast of warmth and chill. He flipped through the pages lazily, before his smirk deepened.
"Interesting," he murmured, snapping the book shut with one hand. YN clenched her jaw. "You gave that to me." San let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.
"I did," he admitted, stepping even closer. His knee brushed against the edge of the mattress. He leaned down slightly, enough that she could feel the heat of him, smell the faint scent of leather and spice. He reached out, his fingers skimming through her hairâsomething he seemed to love doing.
YN clenched her fists. She hated how he touched her so freely, how he invaded her space like he owned it. But most of allâshe hated the way he made it impossible to breathe.
San watched her closely, his eyes dark with amusement. He had noticed itâthe way she sat idly for days, locked in this golden cage he had given her. She had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to. So of course, she was bored.
But YN didnât trust him, and she had every reason not to.
Still, when he spoke, his voice was almost casual. "I was thinking," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you must be getting bored."
She stiffened. Of course, she was. But admitting anything to him felt like a loss. She remained still, watching him warily. San exhaled sharply, as if her silence annoyed him. He shifted slightly, bringing a gloved hand up to her chin. His fingers were deceptively gentle as they tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Are you?" he asked again.
For a moment, she debated whether or not to answer. But the way his grip tightenedâjust a fractionâtold her it wasnât a request. Reluctantly, she gave a small nod.
San clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "That wonât do." His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, lingering just long enough to make her tense. His smirk deepened at her reaction. "If I ask a question, little princess, I expect words," he murmured. "Try again."
YN swallowed hard, her voice quieter than she would have liked. "Yes."
San grinned. "See? That wasnât so hard." He released her, taking a step back as if satisfied.
"Since youâre bored," he mused, turning slightly, "I think Iâll give you something to do."
She narrowed her eyes. "And what would that be?"
He glanced at her over his shoulder, that wicked smirk never fading. "Youâre going to dance for me."
YN was furious. âYou're making me do this act of shame for what?â
San merely raised a brow at her outburst, completely unfazed. If anything, he looked amused.
"Shaming you?" he repeated, stepping closer. His voice was as smooth as silk, but there was something sharp beneath it. "You think Iâm asking you to shame yourself?"
YN clenched her fists. "Youâre making me put on a show for you like a performer, like someâ"
"Like a princess," he interrupted, tilting his head slightly. His smirk deepened as he took another slow step toward her. "And isn't that what you are?"
She was furious now. "This dance is part of my kingdomâs culture," she snapped. "Youâve already taken everything from me. I wonât let you exploit this too."
San chuckled, dark and quiet. "Exploit?" he mused. "You call it exploitation. I call it appreciation." Her glare only fueled his amusement.
She furiously stood up "By making me dance in front of you for your entertainment? You think thatâs appreciation?"
He didnât move. He just stood there, watching her, his expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against him.
YN gasped, her hands instinctively landing on his chest. His grip was firm but not painful, his warmth radiating through his clothes. She struggled, but he didnât let go. His eyes bore into hers.
"Do you really think I see you as just some performer?" he murmured, voice dropping lower. "I could have killed you, little princess. I should have."
His fingers trailed up her arm, slow and deliberate. "But I didnât. I kept you. And now, I want to see youâyour kingdomâs pride, your so-called untouchable grace." He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her skin. "You can call it whatever you want," he whispered, "but in the end, you will dance for me."
YN felt the weight of defeat settle deep in her chest. It was suffocating. She had nothing leftâno kingdom, no family, no power. Even her pride, the one thing she had tried so desperately to hold onto, was slipping through her fingers.
San had taken everything from her. And now, even in this moment, he stood before her, completely in control. Her shoulders slumped as she took a slow step back, gaze falling to the floor. She hated this. Hated him. Hated how powerless she was.
San watched her reaction closely, his smirk unwavering.
"See?" he murmured. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then, to her surprise, he took a step closerânot with the same overwhelming dominance he usually carried, but with something else. Something almost teasing.
"Here," he said suddenly, reaching for her hair. "I'll even braid your hair to make it beautiful."
YNâs breath hitched. "Whatâ"
But she couldnât even finish before she felt his fingers threading through her locks.
He was gentle.
She wanted to recoil, to shove him away, but her body wouldnât move. She stood frozen as he worked, weaving her long strands between his fingers, moving with ease as if he had done this a hundred times before. San was good at it. Too good.
"Surprised?" he mused, clearly amused by her silence. "You think a king canât do something as simple as braiding hair?" His fingers moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the feeling.
YN hated how calming it was.
He was quiet for a moment before he murmured, "My mother used to do this for me when I was young. Before she died." That caught her off guard.
She dared to glance at him, but his expression was unreadable.
Then, as if remembering himself, San smirked again. "But I suppose that doesn't matter now."
He tied off the end of the braid, admiring his work. "There," he said, stepping back. "Now you look even more like a princess."
YN clenched her fists at her sides. "You're cruel," she whispered.
San only chuckled, dark and low. "And yet, here you areâletting me braid your hair."
The music played softly in the grand hall, but to YN, it felt like a cruel command rather than a melody. Her bare feet hesitated against the cold marble floor. Her body still ached, her legs not fully recovered from the injuries. Every step sent a dull pain through her, but she didnât stop. She couldnât stop.
San sat on his throne, legs spread lazily, elbow resting on the armrest, fingers curled under his chin. His dark eyes never left her. They followed every movement, every step, every sway of her body with an intensity that made her skin crawl.
He looked hungry. Not for food. Not for violence.
For her.
YNâs breath was uneven, but she forced herself to keep going. The dance that once brought her joy, the tradition of her people, now felt like shackles binding her to his will.
San exhaled slowly, his gaze dragging over her form. âKeep going,â he murmured, voice low and smooth, yet laced with authority.
Her knees almost buckled.
His gaze burned into her skin, drinking in every movement like a man who had been deprived for too long.
YN gritted her teeth, forcing herself to continue. She could feel his eyes tracing the curve of her waist, the arch of her neck, the way her braid swayed with her movements. He was enjoying this.
Not just the dance itself, but the fact that he was the reason she was dancing.
San leaned forward slightly, his smirk deepening. "Itâs almost a shame," he mused. "That a princess like you should be wasted on a throne when you were clearly born to move like this.â
YN nearly stumbled. And the moment she stumbled, she knew something was wrong. Her vision blurred, the golden chandeliers above melting into streaks of light. The grand hall, once a suffocating prison, now felt like it was spinning around her, pulling her deeper into an abyss she couldn't escape.
Her legs trembled beneath her, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She tried to focusâon the cold marble beneath her feet, on the heavy silence that replaced the music, on anything that could ground her. But all she could see was him.
San.
He remained seated, watching her with an expression that sent chills down her spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, lips curling into that damned smirk. The world tilted again. Her body swayed uncontrollably, her limbs heavy, her strength slipping away.
Thenâdarkness.
The last thing she saw before her knees buckled was Sanâs sinister smile.
He didnât move to catch her. He didnât call for help. He simply watched as she crumpled to the floor.
San exhaled slowly as he crouched beside her, his sharp eyes drinking in every delicate feature. Her long lashes fluttered slightly, her lips parted as she breathed weakly, and her hair, now slightly disheveled from the fall, fanned out around her like ink spilled on the cold marble.
She was beautiful. Too beautiful to let go.
His gloved fingers traced a strand of her hair, twisting it between his fingers as he studied her face. She had danced until she collapsedâuntil her body could no longer obey her. And all for him. A slow smirk curled on his lips.
"You really are something, little princess," he murmured, his voice deep, filled with an almost lazy amusement.
His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down. Even unconscious, she looked defiantâlike she was fighting even in her sleep. San leaned closer, his lips hovering just near her ear.
"I will break you," he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous promise. "But I will put you back together as mine."
He pulled away slightly, his gaze sweeping over her unconscious form. Then, with no sense of urgency, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
She was light. Too light. San clicked his tongue.
"You're still weak," he mused, as if speaking to himself. "Iâll have to fix that."
With long, unhurried strides, he carried her toward the grand doors. His boots echoed against the empty hall, the only sound accompanying them. The princess belonged to him now. And San always got what he wanted.
When YN's eyes fluttered open, she was met with a sight she did not expect.
The room around her was nothing like the one she had been confined to before. It was magnificentâgrander, richer, almost suffocating in its opulence. Deep crimson drapes cascaded from the towering windows, gold accents lining every carved detail of the walls. The bed she lay on was vast, the silk sheets beneath her softer than anything she had ever known.
But none of that mattered. Because he was there.
San.
He sat on the bed, resting against the bedpost with one arm draped over the carved wood, watching her with unreadable eyes. But the problem wasnât just that he was there.
The problem was that he was shirtless.
The flickering candlelight cast sharp shadows across his toned torso, emphasizing every defined muscle, every scar carved into his skin like war medals. He looked relaxedâtoo relaxedâas if he had all the time in the world to simply watch her. Panic surged through her veins like fire.
Her breath hitched, and before her mind could even catch up, her body reacted. She immediately sat up, the sheets pooling around her, and scrambled off the bed. Her bare feet hit the cool floor as she backed away, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the terrifyingly alluring man before her. San exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips as he lazily tilted his head.
"Running away again?" he mused, his voice deep, teasing. "How adorable." YN swallowed hard. She knew better now. Running wasnât an option.
But being near him? That was just as dangerous.
YN's voice was hoarse when she finally found the courage to speak. "Why am I here?"
San didnât answer right away. He simply stretched, his muscles flexing as he let out a lazy sigh, before tilting his head toward her. âDoes it matter?â he said casually, as if her presence in his chambers was the most natural thing in the world. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, frustration simmering beneath her fear. âOf course, it mattersââ
But before she could continue, San suddenly chuckled, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. âWhy are you so scared?â he teased, lips curling into that familiar, maddening smirk. âI havenât done anything. Yet.â
Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to stand her ground. She hesitated for a moment before finally answering, her voice quieter now. âIn my kingdom⌠it is inappropriate for an unmarried woman to share a bed with a man.â
For a moment, there was silence. Then San let out a low hum, tapping his fingers against the bedpost as if deep in thought. His smirk grew wider.
"Ah⌠so that's whatâs bothering you," he mused. His eyes darkened with amusement as he leaned forward just slightly. "Then I suppose⌠you should be grateful I let you sleep alone last night.â
YNâs breath caught in her throat.
San was playing with her. And he was enjoying it.
San chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down YNâs spine. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched her with that ever-present glint of amusement.
âYou wonât be unmarried for long,â he said casually, as if he were discussing the weather.
YN blinked. âWhat?â Her voice came out quieter than she intended, confusion flickering in her eyes.
San didnât hesitate. He met her gaze head-on, his smirk sharpening into something more dangerous. âIâm going to marry you.â
Silence.
The words hit her like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to tell her it was another one of his cruel jokes. But he didnât. Instead, he tilted his head, his expression unreadable now. Deadly serious. âIâve already decided,â he continued, as if that was the end of the discussion. âYouâll be my queen.â
YN took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. âNo,â she breathed. âYouâre insane if you thinkââ
San suddenly stood, and she immediately froze. He wasnât smirking anymore.
His gaze was intense, piercing through her like a blade. âI think youâre forgetting something, little princess.â His voice dropped lower, the weight of his authority pressing down on her. âEverything here⌠belongs to me.â
He took a slow step toward her.
âThe palace.â Another step.
âThe people.â Another.
âAnd you.â
YNâs back hit the wall, her breath caught in her throat as San loomed over her.
âThereâs no escape, YN,â he murmured, reaching out to trace a strand of her hair between his fingers. âSo donât make this harder than it has to be.â
His lips curled into a smirk again, but his eyes?
They promised that he never said things he didnât mean.
YN clenched her fists, gathering the courage to speak. âI wonât marry you,â she said firmly, though there was still a tremor in her voice. âYouâre⌠youâre way older than me.â
San raised a brow, his lips twitching in amusement. âOlder?â He chuckled, shaking his head. âOh, little princess, thatâs hardly an issue. A few years mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.â
He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. âBesides,â he continued, tilting his head slightly, âolder men are wiser. Stronger. More capable of protecting whatâs theirs.â His voice dropped, smooth like silk but laced with quiet dominance. âAnd you? You are mine now, arenât you?â
YN swallowed, refusing to be rattled. âMarriage is supposed to be based on love,â she blurted out, gripping the fabric of her dress.
San stilled for a moment before exhaling a soft laugh. âLove?â He said the word like it was foreign to him, like it amused him. His fingers reached out, ghosting over the ends of her hair as he watched her intently. âYou think love is what keeps a marriage strong?â His voice was deceptively soft, almost hypnotic. âNo, little princess. Love is fragile. It crumbles. But power? Loyalty? Fear?â His gaze darkened. âThose are unshakable.â
He leaned in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. âAnd donât worry,â he murmured, his smirk returning. âYouâll learn to love me eventually.â He pulled away then, as if the conversation was already settled.
YNâs heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to argue, to fight back, but deep down, she knewâ
San never changed his mind.
Sanâs voice was smooth, almost reassuring. âYou donât need to worry,â he said, as if his words could magically erase her fears. âIâll take care of you. Give you everything you could ever want. Shower you with fortune, with power.â His fingers traced the edge of a gold-embroidered pillow as he spoke, his gaze never leaving her.
But YN didnât want that. She never had.
She clenched her fists at her sides, her heart twisting painfully. This was not what she had dreamed of. She had always wanted loveâreal love, the kind her parents had. She had spent her childhood watching the way her father would soften whenever he looked at her mother, the way they laughed together, the way they held each other with warmth and affection. She had wanted that for herself one day. Not this.
Not a forced marriage with a ruthless king who saw love as a weakness.
Her throat felt tight, but she managed to whisper, âThis isnât what I imagined.â San tilted his head, watching her with unreadable eyes. âWhat did you imagine, then?â His voice was calm, but there was something lurking beneath it.
YN hesitated. She didnât want to tell him. Didnât want to give him more power over her. But at the same time, she needed him to understand. âI imagined⌠a family,â she admitted softly. âA husband who loves me. Who looks at me the way my father looked at my mother. I donât want riches or power. I just wantedâŚâ She trailed off, unable to finish.
Sanâs smirk faded slightly, his expression darkening.
Then he chuckled, shaking his head. âLove,â he mused, almost to himself. âYou really think love is enough to build a life on?â
His fingers suddenly caught her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His grip wasnât painful, but it was firm, unyielding.
âYouâll learn, little princess,â he murmured. âYouâll see that love is nothing but a fragile illusion.â His thumb brushed against her lower lip before he released her. âBut donât worry. Iâll give you something much better.â
He stepped back. âYouâll have me. And in time, that will be all you need.â
YNâs stomach twisted in despair. Because deep down, she knewâSan never said things he didnât mean.
YN took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew San wasnât someone she could reason with. He was a man who took what he wanted, who bent the world to his will without a second thought. And clearly, he had decided that she would be his.
But that didnât mean she would accept it.
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance. âI know I canât change your mind,â she admitted, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. âBut that doesnât mean Iâll be happily married to you.â
San's smile didn't waver, but something flickered in his eyesâsomething unreadable, something dark. He took a slow step toward her, closing the space between them with effortless ease.
âYou say that now,â he murmured, his voice low and almost amused. âBut things change, little princess. People change.â His fingers reached out, barely grazing a lock of her hair before he let it slip through his fingers. âYouâll come to understand soon enough.â
YN clenched her fists, resisting the shiver that threatened to crawl down her spine. âI will never love you,â she stated firmly.
San simply chuckled, stepping even closer until she had no choice but to tilt her head up to keep looking at him. âWho said anything about love?â he whispered. His breath was warm against her skin. âYouâll belong to meâwhether you love me or not.â
YNâs heart pounded, but she forced herself not to look away. If he thought she would break that easily, he was wrong. San studied her for a moment, then let out a small hum of amusement. âI like that fire in your eyes,â he mused. âI wonder how long itâll last.â
Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing thereâtrapped in a fate she wanted no part of.
YN lay stiffly in the bed, her back turned to him. The mattress was soft, far more luxurious than anything she had ever slept on before, yet she couldnât relax. Not when the very man who had destroyed her life was lying so close behind her.
She flinched when she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest. San held her close, his grip firm yet strangely gentle, as if he was claiming her but didnât want to break herâat least not yet. His warmth surrounded her, but it wasnât comforting. It was suffocating.
âTell me something,â his voice was softer now, almost coaxing, as he rested his chin lightly near her shoulder. âBefore all of this⌠before I came and took what was mine⌠what did you think your married life would be like?â
YN hesitated. She didnât want to answer him. She didnât want to let him in, to give him even a glimpse of the dreams she once held so dearly. But his grip around her waist tightened just slightly, a silent warning that he expected her to answer.
Taking a shaky breath, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. âI⌠I wanted a loving husband,â she admitted reluctantly. âSomeone who would cherish me, not own me.â
San didnât say anything, so she continued, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. âI always imagined a peaceful life. A home filled with laughter. Two children⌠an older son and a younger daughter.â A small, sad smile ghosted her lips. âI thought Iâd marry someone who truly loved me, and we would raise them together, surrounded by warmth and kindness.â
San hummed thoughtfully. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her side, a stark contrast to the dangerous man she knew he was. âA husband who loves you, two perfect children⌠how sweet.â He chuckled softly, though there was something unreadable in his tone. âYou dream too softly for this cruel world, little princess.â
YN swallowed hard, gripping the silk sheets beneath her. She didnât want to hear that from him. She didnât want him to mock what little hope she had left.
San sighed, his warm breath fanning against her neck. âLove is an illusion,â he murmured, his lips barely grazing her skin. âPower, control⌠those are real. And I am real. You are mine, whether you accept it or not.â
She squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
San felt it. His thumb brushed against her waist, but he said nothing more. Instead, he simply held her tighter, as if he could mold her into his world through sheer force alone. And YN, despite everything, lay there in silence, trapped in the arms of the man who had stolen her future.
Days passed, and to YNâs surprise, San was⌠different. Not entirely, of course. He was still terrifying, still the man who had destroyed everything she knew. But he wasnât as cruel as before.
He no longer forced her into uncomfortable situations just to see her squirm. He didnât toy with her pride as much, nor did he threaten her with the same intensity. He was still controlling, still possessive, but something had shifted.
San was still bad. Just⌠not as bad.
He still made her dance for him, but now, he ensured that she had the proper shoes for it. He still forced her to eat at his table, but he no longer demanded she eat meat. He even went as far as making sure her meals were tailored to her tastes.
And then there were the moments in betweenâwhen he wasnât being the ruthless king, the tyrant she had come to loathe. Moments where he would sit with her, watching her read, commenting lazily on the books she chose. Sometimes, he would run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly, braiding and unbraiding it as if it was his personal pastime. Other times, he would simply exist in the same space as her, not demanding, not pushingâjust watching.
It was unsettling.
Because YN didnât know what he wanted. She didnât know what his end goal was. He had taken her, claimed her as his future bride, yet he wasnât forcing her into marriage immediately. It was as if he was waiting for something.
San had been lounging beside her, his usual confident smirk in place as his sharp eyes flickered to the book in her hands. âThat book,â he mused, tilting his head, âseems dreadfully boring.â
YN instinctively wanted to argue, to tell him how wrong he was, but then she remembered where she stood. She wasnât in her home, in her kingdom. She was here, in his palace, a prisoner no matter how much luxury surrounded her. So instead of fighting back, she simply lowered her gaze, her grip on the book tightening as sadness settled over her features. San noticed.
His smirk faltered for a brief second before he leaned forward, his voice shifting into something lighter, almost teasing. âAlright then, tell meâwhat is it about?â
She hesitated, her fingers playing with the edge of the pages. But after a moment, she softly answered, âItâs about a girl who lost everything and had to rebuild her life somewhere new.â
San hummed, watching her carefully. âSounds familiar.â She stiffened, but before he could ruin the moment, he continued, âAnd? What does she do?â
YN glanced at him cautiously before her eyes flickered back to the book. âShe learns. She makes friends. She finds purpose again.â
Something shifted in her toneâjust the smallest change, but San caught it. Her voice grew steadier, her words flowing more freely as she continued. âShe thought she would never find happiness again, but little by little, she discovers new things that make her smile. Even in a place she once feared, she finds something worth holding onto.â
Her eyes lit up as she spoke, the weight on her shoulders seeming to lift, if only for a moment. She wasnât talking to the cruel king who had stolen her life. She was simply speaking about something she loved.
San didnât miss it.
He leaned back, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked. âYou really like this book, donât you?â
She blinked, suddenly realizing how much she had said. The light in her eyes dimmed as she clutched the book close to her chest, lips pressing into a thin line.
San clicked his tongue. âTsk. There it is again.â
She looked at him, confused. âWhat?â
He tilted his head. âYouâre always holding yourself back around me. But just now? You werenât.â
YN swallowed, unsure how to respond.
San let out a breath, reaching forward before she could react. His fingers brushed against the strands of her hair, twirling a lock between his fingers as he murmured, âI think I like you better when you talk freely.â
YN stiffened, heart pounding. But San just smirked, letting the hair slip from his fingers as he leaned back.
âKeep reading, little princess.â
San grabbed a towel and slung it over his shoulder, stretching slightly before making his way toward the bathroom. YN watched him go but didnât say anything, just lowering her gaze back to her book. The sound of water running filled the room, and she let out a breath she hadnât realized she was holding. A while later, the door creaked open, and steam drifted out as San stepped back into the room.
He was fresh out of the bath, his damp hair slightly tousled, strands sticking to his forehead. Water still clung to his skin, glistening under the warm light as droplets trailed down his chest. His robe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing glimpses of his toned frame, and his presence alone seemed to take up all the space in the room.
But his sharp eyes immediately found her.
YN was sitting in front of the mirror, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of her hair. She looked deep in thought, her brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed together as if she was hesitating over something.
San smirked.
He walked up behind her, his reflection appearing in the mirror as he placed both hands on the table, leaning down slightly. His voice was smooth, teasing.
âYou want to ask something.â
YN jolted a little, her fingers tightening around her hair as she met his gaze in the reflection. He tilted his head, eyes flickering over her expression. âGo on,â he murmured, voice dropping lower. âAsk away.â
YN hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. It was obvious she felt embarrassed, her posture stiff as if she was trying to disappear into herself. San watched her through the mirror, waiting with an amused yet patient look, though there was a glint of curiosity in his dark eyes. After a long silence, she finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
âCan I⌠talk to a maid?â
San straightened slightly, tilting his head. His smirk remained, but his eyes darkened just a little. âA maid?â he repeated, sounding unimpressed. She nodded quickly, still not meeting his gaze.
He scoffed, stepping around her so that he was now facing her directly. âWhy?â
âI just need to ask her something,â she murmured.
San didnât like that answer. He was nosy about her. He wanted to know everythingâher thoughts, her feelings, even the small things that made her nervous like this. And this? This was something she was clearly reluctant to share. That only made him more curious.
He leaned in slightly, one brow raising. âAsk her what?â
YN swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. âItâs not important.â
âThen why canât you tell me?â he shot back smoothly.
She tensed, her grip tightening on her sleeve. She knew he wasnât going to drop this. San was persistent, and if she continued dodging, heâd only make things worse for her.
With a deep breath, she finally looked down and muttered, âMy period is going to start soon.â
Silence.
Her face burned. She didnât want to say itâespecially not to himâbut she had no choice. She wished the ground would swallow her whole.
San, however, was anything but embarrassed. In fact, he looked entertained. His lips curved into a knowing smile arms crossing over his broad chest.
âThatâs what you were so shy about?â he chuckled. âYou act like I donât know what a period is.â
YN glared at him, her cheeks still hot. âI just wanted to ask a maid for supplies, not tell you about it.â
San hummed, stepping even closer. âYou need something? I can have it brought to you.â
She clenched her jaw. âI donât need you to handle it.â
He grinned. âToo bad. You belong to me now, which means everything you need comes from me.â He leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower. âEven this.â
YN shut her eyes, exhaling sharply. There was no winning against him.
San let out a low chuckle. âIâll have the maids bring you what you need. Next time, just tell me. No need to be so shy.â
She turned away, wishing this conversation would end. But as she heard him chuckle again, she knew one thingâhe was enjoying this way too much.
Sanâs chuckle lingered in the air as he turned away from her, still clearly entertained by the whole situation. YN, on the other hand, felt like sinking into the floor. Why did it have to be him she had to tell? Why couldnât he just let her talk to a maid like a normal person? Still, at least he said heâd send someone with what she needed. That was enough for now.
She remained sitting in front of the mirror, her hands still gripping the fabric of her dress as San walked to his side of the room. He dried his damp hair lazily with a towel, the glow from the lanterns casting soft shadows across his bare torso. YN forced herself to look anywhere but at him, but it was hard when he was the only moving presence in the dimly lit room. San finally tossed the towel aside and stretched, rolling his shoulders. He caught her reflection in the mirror, smirking at the way she was avoiding his gaze.
âYou look so tense,â he commented, stepping behind her again. âStill embarrassed?â
She didnât answer.
San tsked and placed his hands on the vanity, caging her in. âWeâre going to be married, little princess,â he murmured. âYou donât have to be shy with me.â
Her hands clenched into fists, and she swallowed down the frustration rising in her throat. She hated how he spoke so casually about it. As if her opinion didnât matter. As if she had no choice but to accept it. She took a shaky breath. âYou keep talking about this marriage, but I donât remember agreeing to it.â
San let out a low hum, his fingers tracing the wooden surface beside her. âYouâll come around.â
YN finally met his gaze in the mirror, her expression sharp. âWhat if I donât?â
San grinned, but it wasnât the playful kindâit was dark, knowing, almost dangerous. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against her ear.
âThen Iâll make sure you do.â
A shiver ran down her spine. She wasnât sure if it was fear, frustration, or something else entirely, but she hated how easily he got under her skin.
San finally pulled away, stepping toward the bed. âEnough talking. Get some rest,â he said as he slid under the covers.
YN remained frozen for a moment before finally standing up and making her way to the bed as well. She didnât want to sleep beside him, but what choice did she have? He had made it clear beforeâshe wasnât allowed to sleep anywhere else.
As she lay down, she kept her back to him, her body stiff. But just as she was beginning to relax, she felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her against his chest. San let out a satisfied sigh, nuzzling into her hair. âGood night, princess,â he murmured, his voice laced with amusement.
YN clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to ignore the way her heart pounded in her chest.
The grand wedding was too much for her. It was lavish, flamboyant, and overwhelming in every possible way. The palace was adorned with the finest silks, golden drapes cascading from the ceilings, and chandeliers that glowed like captured stardust. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air, blending with the rich aroma of feast preparations. It was a celebration fit for a queenâhis queen.
Everybody took part. Nobles from distant lands arrived in their most extravagant attire, offering their congratulations to the man who had conquered not only kingdoms but now a bride. The halls echoed with the sound of music, laughter, and endless chatter about the union of King San and the fallen princess of Eldoria.
YN felt suffocated. She stood stiffly in her wedding attire, the fabric embroidered with gold, heavy on her shoulders, as if it were trying to crush her under its weight. Her hands trembled in her lap, fingers tightening around the delicate bouquet she held.
This was it.
There was no escape now.
San was standing tall beside her, dressed in his royal robes, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He looked utterly at ease, smirking at the guests as if this was just another victory in his long list of triumphs. His hand found hers, his grip firm, possessive.
"Smile," he whispered in her ear, his voice dripping with amusement. "Itâs your big day, after all."
YN forced her lips to curve slightly, but she knew it didnât reach her eyes.
The ceremony proceeded like a dreamâa slow, painful one. Vows were exchanged, oaths were sealed, and with a smirk playing on his lips, San lifted her veil.
Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his fingers tilting her chin up, his gaze burning into hers before he finally captured her lips in a deep, claiming kiss.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
She closed her eyes, feeling the world spin.
She was no longer Princess YN of Eldoria.
She was now Queen YN of his empire.
The wedding feast stretched late into the night, filled with music, laughter, and the glow of golden candlelight. YN sat beside San, her hands folded neatly in her lap, feeling the weight of the rings on her fingersâsymbols of a union she had never wished for. The grand hall was alive with celebration, nobles raising their goblets in toasts to their new king and queen, but YN barely touched her food. She felt like an outsider at her own wedding, trapped in a gilded cage.
San, however, was completely at ease. He carried himself like a man who had wonânot just a war, but her. He accepted congratulations with his usual smirk, his presence commanding the room. Yet, no matter how many people spoke to him, his gaze always found its way back to her. Watching her. Studying her. As if trying to figure out what was going on inside that stubborn little head of hers.
As the night drew to a close, he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. âTime to go, princess.â His voice was softer than usual, almost teasing, but it sent a shiver down her spine nonetheless.
She hesitated, but he took her hand, guiding her through the grand halls. His grip was firm but not forceful. People bowed as they passed, whispering about how stunning she looked, how perfect they seemed together. But only she knew the truth.
When they reached the royal bedchamber, the doors shut behind them with a quiet finality. The room was breathtakingâgrand and luxurious, with deep crimson drapes and gold accents, the massive bed taking up the center like a throne of its own. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and something elseâsomething distinctly him.
She stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do.
San turned to her, watching her closely. âYou look tense,â he murmured, taking a step forward.
She refused to respond.
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Then, with an ease that made her heart stutter, he started undoing the layers of his royal attire. The heavy coat was the first to go, then the rings on his fingers, the golden chains around his neck. By the time he was left in just his loose white shirt and dark pants, he looked almost⌠different. Less like a conqueror. More like a man.
Still, she took a small step back.
She swallowed, forcing herself to glare at him. âMarriage doesnât mean you own me.â
He exhaled a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing through his dark hair before he looked at her againâthis time, without mockery. âI know.â His voice was quiet, honest. âBut I will take care of you. No matter what you think of me.â
She blinked, taken aback.
San moved to the other side of the room, pulling off his rings and setting them on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at her once more, this time without the sharpness he usually carried.
YN stood in the center of the grand chamber, the weight of her wedding dress suddenly unbearable. Layers of embroidered silk and heavy jewels clung to her like a second skin, suffocating her. She barely had the energy to stand, let alone deal with the exhaustion creeping into her bones.
San, lounging on the edge of the bed, watched her with an unreadable expression. She hesitated, gripping the delicate embroidery of her sleeves. She needed to take it off, but she wasnât exactly comfortable stripping in front of him.
San, as if reading her mind, let out a quiet chuckle. âYouâre struggling.â He pushed off the bed, walking towards her with slow, confident steps. âWant my help?â
âNo,â she answered quickly, stepping back.
He smirked but said nothing. Instead, he strolled toward a corner of the room, where a silk robe had been neatly placed. He grabbed it and held it out to her. âWear this after.â
She stared at it for a moment before snatching it from his hands. She expected him to watch, but instead, he turned his back to her.
Surprised by his rare display of restraint, she wasted no time undoing the dozens of tiny clasps running down the back of her dress. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She hurriedly pulled the robe over herself, the soft material a welcome relief against her skin.
âIâm done,â she muttered.
San turned back around, his gaze flickering over her once before he let out a satisfied hum. âBetter.â Then, without another word, he strolled back to the bed, lying down like he owned the world.
She hesitated before following, keeping to the very edge of the mattress.
San turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes holding a glint of amusement. âYou act like I bite.â
âYou do bite,â she shot back.
He laughed, low and deep, before closing his eyes. âOnly when necessary.â
She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him, ignoring the way his voice sent an annoying warmth through her.
As she tried to sleep, she could still feel the weight of his presence behind herâthe king who had taken everything from her. And yet, for some reason, he hadnât taken this.
Not yet.
As she lay on the vast bed, wrapped in the silk robe he had given her, YN couldnât help but let her thoughts wander. She had read enough books to know how forced marriages usually played out. The stories always spoke of cruelty, of brides being nothing more than prizes to be taken. She had braced herself for that kind of fate.
But San⌠didnât do it.
Instead, he wasâdare she even think it?âsoft. Not in the way a gentle prince would be, not in the way fairytales promised love and warmth. No, San was still dangerous, still sharp-edged, but there was something different about him tonight.
She had expected him to take what he wanted without question. To claim her the way men like him always did in stories. But instead, he had turned his back when she changed. He had given her space. He had simply laid down, his presence commanding yet oddly non-threatening.
Like a kitten, she thought absently, though the image almost made her want to laugh. A very large, very terrifying kitten with claws that could tear you apart.
She shifted slightly, stealing a glance at him. He was lying on his back, one arm lazily draped behind his head, his dark eyes half-lidded as he stared at the ceiling. He looked⌠relaxed.
Not once had he touched her inappropriately. Not once had he made any crude remarks. (He literally choked you but ok ig)
Why?
She turned her face away, staring at the soft glow of the lanterns instead. Maybe this was just another manipulation tactic. Maybe he was waiting for her to let her guard down. Or maybe⌠maybe some small part of him actually saw her as more than just a prize.
The thought unsettled her.
Because deep down, she knew that if San ever decided he wanted something, nothing in the world could stop him from taking it. And she wasnât sure if she wanted to know what would happen if he ever decided he truly wanted her.
YN blinked sleepily, her vision still hazy from sleep. She stretched her arms lazily, her long sleeves slipping past her hands as she let out a small, muffled yawn. Her hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, framing her sleepy face in an unintentionally adorable way.
Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, searched the room, expecting to see San beside herâbut his side of the bed was empty. Still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, she turned her head, and there he was.
San sat at his desk, his posture relaxed but commanding, one hand holding a pen as he wrote something with effortless ease. The soft glow of the morning light caught his features just rightâhis sharp jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his white shirt clung to his frame, the top few buttons left undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.
For the first time, he didnât look like a monster. He looked⌠almost like a king should. Regal, composed, focused. Normal.
YN rubbed her eyes, still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. She tilted her head slightly, observing him, her lips unconsciously forming a small pout.
Why did he have to look that good in the morning? It was unfair.
As if sensing her gaze, San suddenly looked up. His piercing eyes met hers instantly, and for a second, neither of them spoke. His lips curled into a small, amused smirk as he leaned back in his chair.
âDid you sleep well, little princess?â His voice was deep, still carrying the remnants of sleep, and for some reason, it made her stomach do a weird little flip.
She blinked at him, still too groggy to properly respond, and just gave a slow, sleepy nod.
San chuckled, shaking his head. âYou look like a little kitten.â
âI do not.â
But with her messy hair, half-lidded eyes, and small, sleepy pout, she absolutely did. And San looked far too entertained by it.
YN groggily got out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she stumbled slightly. She was still shaking off sleep, her body not fully awake yet. Without thinking, she made her way to the bathroom, craving the warmth of a shower to clear her mind.
By the time she emerged, she felt fresher, more alert. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the scent of soap and flowers lingering around her. But now, standing in the middle of the grand room, she realizedâshe had no idea what to do next.
Her life had always been structured, filled with responsibilities, duties, and expectations. But here? She had nothing. No routine, no obligations. No real freedom, either. Without really thinking, she turned towards the only person who did know what to do.
San.
He was still at his desk, leaning back in his chair, one hand propped under his chin as he watched her approach. His sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in her fresh appearance, his lips twitching into something close to a smirk. She stopped in front of him, hesitating. Now fully awake, she felt slightly embarrassed that she had come to him of all people. But she pushed past it and, in a soft voice, asked,
ââŚWhat should I do now?â
Sanâs smirk deepened, his gaze flickering with amusement. He rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, tilting his head as he looked up at her.
âYouâre asking me?â he mused, his voice slow, teasing. âWhat a good little wife you are.â
San chuckled, waving a hand. âRelax, princess. Youâre free to do whatever you want.â
Her brows furrowed. Free? That word felt strange coming from his mouth.
San, sensing her doubt, leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to something softer. âGo walk around. Read. Sit by the window and braid your hair, since you love doing that.â His eyes glinted with something unreadable. âOr⌠you can just sit here and keep me company.â
YN bit her lip. None of those things felt fulfilling. But at least now, she knew one thingâSan wasnât planning to throw her back into isolation. For now.
YN stood there, fidgeting slightly, as the realization settled in. She didnât know what to do. It was a strange, unsettling feelingâone she had never truly experienced before.
Back in her kingdom, her days were always planned for her. From the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed, every decision had already been madeâwhat she wore, what she studied, where she went, how she behaved. And now, standing here with the freedom to choose, she felt... lost.
San, who had been watching her closely, let out a small chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, looking effortlessly regal even in his relaxed posture. âWhatâs with that face, princess?â he mused. âYou act like I just handed you the entire world.â
YN glanced at him, biting her lip. Maybe because, in a way, you did.
San tilted his head, studying her. Then, in a softer voice, he said, âYouâre older now. You donât need someone to tell you what to do every second of the day.â He tapped his fingers against the armrest. âSo, tell me, what do you want to do?â
YN hesitated. She had never really been asked that before. What did she want? Then, almost instinctively, she looked up at him and answered, âI want to cook.â San blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. Then, slowly, a smirk stretched across his lips. âCook?â he repeated, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
She nodded, a bit more firmly this time. âYes.â
San exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. âOf all thingsâŚâ He stood up, towering over her, before placing a hand under her chin, tilting her face up to look at him properly. âYou really are full of surprises, arenât you?â
YN swallowed, her breath hitching at how close he was. His fingers were warm against her skin, his touch gentle despite the sheer power he held.
Then, after a beat of silence, he let go and stepped back. âFine,â he said lazily. âLetâs see what my little wife can do in the kitchen.â
YN had never felt this kind of nervousness before. She had fought battles of words, endured royal duties, and faced Sanâs unnerving presence more times than she could count. But this? Watching him take the first bite of the food she cooked with her own hands? It was a different kind of pressure.
She sat stiffly across from him at the long dining table, pretending to focus on her plate, but her eyes kept flickering toward him. He hadnât said a word yet, just cutting into the dish and bringing a bite to his lips.
San chewed slowly, his face unreadable. YN gripped the fabric of her dress beneath the table. Is it bad?
Then, finally, he swallowed. He set his fork down, wiping the corner of his mouth with deliberate ease before turning his gaze to her.
âYou were a princess,â he mused, voice slow and deep. âRaised in luxury, surrounded by servants to do everything for you.â
YN tensed, unsure where this was going.
âAnd yet,â he continued, dragging his thumb across the table absentmindedly, âyou can cook like this?â
Her lips parted slightly. âI⌠I learned from the palace chefs,â she admitted. âThey were kind enough to teach me when I was younger.â San hummed, leaning back in his chair. Then, to her shock, he smirked. âYouâre full of surprises, wife.â
YN blinked, heat creeping up her neck. âSo⌠does that mean you like it?â
San tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he picked up his fork again. âI donât just like it,â he said, taking another bite. âI might just keep you in the kitchen forever.â
She frowned. âThatâs not funny.â
San chuckled, the sound smooth and rich. âOh, but it is.â He motioned toward her plate. âNow eat. You put in all that effortâdonât let it go to waste.â
YN exhaled, shaking her head but finally picking up her utensils.
And though she wouldnât admit it, a small, almost unnoticeable smile played on her lips as she started eating.
San never thought he was capable of feeling guilt. He was a man who took what he wanted, ruled with an iron fist, and never once looked back at the wreckage he left behind. But YN⌠she had undone something in him. What started as twisted obsession had transformed into something deeperâsomething he couldn't even name. Love wasn't enough to describe it. He adored her, worshipped her in ways that made even him question his sanity. And yet, with every stolen glance, every soft sigh that escaped her lips when she thought he wasnât listening, he felt the weight of his past actions press down on him. He had humiliated her. Broken her pride. Forced her into this marriage without a choice.
And yet, here she was. Cooking for him. Talking to him. Looking at him like he was a person, not a monster.
San watched her as she ate, completely unaware of the war raging in his mind. He could see the faint traces of her old self still lingeringâthe stubbornness, the quiet grace, the warmth she carried even when she tried to keep it from him. And for the first time, he found himself wanting something different. He wanted her to look at him without fear. He wanted her to choose him, not just accept him as an unchangeable fate.
San clenched his jaw, setting his fork down. He was not a man who apologized, not a man who begged for forgiveness. But for her? He would find a way to make things right, even if he didnât deserve it.
San stood near the dresser, watching her through the mirrorâs reflection. Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed, her bare feet swinging slightly. She looked small like this, lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown.
He sighed softly, running a hand through his dark hair before walking over to her. He crouched down, resting his forearms on his knees so they were at eye level. âYou look tired,â he murmured, voice softer than usual.
YN blinked at him, a little caught off guard. He was always intenseâdangerousâbut tonight, there was something different about him. His eyes werenât as sharp, his usual arrogance replaced with something quieter.
She shrugged, looking away. âI supposeâ.
San hummed, tilting his head slightly. Then, without warning, he reached for her foot, gently holding her ankle in his large hand. YN stiffened, watching him closely, but he only smirked. âRelax,â he said, sliding his thumb in slow circles over her skin.
âWhat are you doing?â she asked, wary.
He lifted her foot slightly, resting it on his knee. âSomething a loving husband would do.â
Her breath caught.
Sanâs touch was uncharacteristically gentle as he began to massage her foot, his fingers pressing into the arch, kneading away the tension she hadnât realized she was holding. The warmth of his hands sent a shiver up her spine, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
She swallowed hard. âYou donât have toââ
âI want to.â His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
YNâs lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She only watched as he worked, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Sanâs gaze flickered up to hers, and for once, there was no wicked glint in his eyes, no teasing smirk. Just something raw and real. âI know Iâve been⌠cruel,â he admitted, his voice low. âBut I want to be better for you.â
Her breath hitched. She wasnât sure what to sayâwasnât sure if she believed him. But for now, she let him hold her foot in his hands, let herself enjoy the rare moment of peace between them.
Because, for the first time, San wasnât just claiming her.
He was asking for her.
YN sat there, her legs dangling over the edge of the tall bed, watching San with cautious eyes. She didnât know what to expect from him anymore. He had been cruel, manipulativeâeverything about him had terrified her. And yet, in these past days, she had seen glimpses of something else. Something she didnât understand.
And now, he was kneeling in front of her, holding her leg in his strong yet gentle grasp, his forehead pressed against her knee.
Her breath caught in her throat. The mighty king, the man who had stolen her life away, was bowing his head as if he was asking for forgiveness. It felt unreal.
Sanâs voice was quiet when he finally spoke, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile moment had settled between them. âIâve hurt you so much, havenât I?â
YN stiffened, her fingers clutching the fabric of her nightgown.
She didnât answer. She couldnât.
San lifted his head slightly, just enough to look up at her. His dark eyes were no longer filled with their usual amusement, arrogance, or hunger. Instead, they held something elseâsomething softer, more vulnerable. And the way he looked at her... how did he make his eyes look like that? Like a desperate plea. Like an apology.
She hated that it made her feel something.
His thumb brushed over her ankle, slow and deliberate, as if grounding himself in the touch. âI canât take it back,â he murmured. âEverything Iâve done to you⌠I know I donât deserve your forgiveness.â He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking up again. âBut I want to change. For you.â
YNâs heart betrayed her by skipping a beat.
No. No, she couldnât let herself believe this.
This was the same man who had humiliated her, who had forced her into a life she never wanted. She should push him away, tell him that no matter what he did, she would never forgive him. And yetâŚ
Her fingers twitched in her lap. And for some reason, she didnât move.
She felt lost. Confused. Torn between everything she knew and everything she was starting to feel. Her chest tightened, her throat burned, and before she could stop it, her eyes welled up with frustration. âWhy?â Her voice was quiet, shaky. âWhy do you do this to me?â
San looked at her, his grip on her leg tightening just slightly. His face remained unreadable, but his fingers betrayed him, twitching against her skin as if he feared sheâd pull away.
YN swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. âWhy do you make it so hard to hate you?â
She wanted to. She was supposed to. She should hate him for taking her from her home, for forcing her into this life, for every cruel smirk, every mocking word, every time he made her feel powerless. She should despise him for turning her world upside down. And yetâ
He was the only one in her world now. No family. No kingdom. No one else. Just him. And somehow, that realization terrified her more than anything else.
She broke.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, one after another, until she couldn't stop them. Her shoulders shook, her breathing came out in ragged gasps, and all the pain, all the frustration, all the confusion poured out of her in waves.
San couldnât watch it. He couldnât bear it. He got up and pulled her into his arms without hesitation. His grip was tightâdesperate, almostâas if he wanted to merge with her, to keep her so close that nothing, not even the pain he had caused, could separate them.
âIâm sorry.â His voice was low, rough, yet softer than she had ever heard it before. He pressed his face against her hair, holding her tighter, rocking her slightly. âIâm so sorry.â
She cried even harder.
Hearing that from himâthis man who had only ever taken from her, who had controlled her life in ways she never imaginedâmade her sob until she felt like she couldnât breathe.
And then his next words came, whispered against her temple, like a vow only she was meant to hear.
âI promise you, YN. Iâll be a good husband.â
His arms tightened around her. âIâll make this right.â
She wanted to believe him.
She clung to him.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tightly as if he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. She buried her face into his shoulder, her sobs muffled against his warmth.
San felt it. The way she held onto himânot out of love, not yet, but out of a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he could make the pain go away. That he could fix what he had broken.
His arms wrapped around her even tighter, his hand stroking her back in slow, steady motions. âI know,â he whispered, his voice laced with regret. âI know I hurt you.â
She didnât respond. Just held on.
And San swore, in that moment, he would do anythingâanythingâto make it better. To deserve the way she was holding him now.
Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!
AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want
Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.
One slight issue,
It's a pirate ship
The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.
Yes, even the ones with a white flag.
But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.
I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.
Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.
Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.
They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.
We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.
Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.
Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.
If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.
That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss herâŚ
I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.
"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"
"Mom, I just woke up..."
"Listen to your mom kid"
I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.
"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.
"yes ma"
I took the money and left.
Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.
The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.
After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!
The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.
Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.
Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!
I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!
"That will be ten bronze kid"
I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh
"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"
Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.
What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?
Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.
"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"
The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.
"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"
He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?
It was now when the two men looked at me.
"Aren't you too young to drink?"
"Land Ahoy!!!!"
The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,
Nassau.
Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.
hehe
"Mingi, drop the anchor!"
"done!"
"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.
"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"
"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"
"Good"
"Captain!"
The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.
"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.
"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"
The two of the other males in the room nodded.
"all of you are scared cats"
"Bitch-"
All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.
"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"
"Captain it was a joke!!"
"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.
The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.
"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"
"ok!"
San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"
The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.
The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.
"Do you wanna build a snowman?"
"San are you a child?"
The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.
"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"
"You swine"
The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.
"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"
"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"
"Ok thenâ
âmeat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"
"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"
The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.
"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!
This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.
Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find itâŚ
"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.
The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.
"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"
"No I did no-"
"you can have it"
Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.
"You can have it"
"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"
"ten bronze"
Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.
The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.
"sorry, he is just immature"
The girl however still remained silent and immobile.
Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.
"thank you and...Sorry"
The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for meâ
They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.
Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. âI only needed one tho.....â
"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knewâ Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.
Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"
jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.
Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-â
âLittle ones?â You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you âkidâ, âchildâ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyoneâ
You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.
As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?â
Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone
"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.
"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.â
Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rumâ. San raises a concerned eyebrow.
âIn what world do âlittle girl' and ârumâ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriateâ
Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.â
San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.
Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!â
Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.
But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.
He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.
As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.
Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)
The captainâs quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoongâs features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captainâs. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.
The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. âCaptain, thereâs been⌠a complication.â
Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold âA complication?â he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. âExplain.â
âA man we loaned money toâhe fled,â the shark stammered. âDisappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.â
Hongjoongâs jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. âAnd you let him run?â
âWe didnât know he would,â the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. âHe seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.â
âAnd the family?â Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.
âTheyâre still in Nassau,â the shark admitted. âThe wife claims she doesnât know where he went, and theyâve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.â
Hongjoongâs gaze darkened. âYou mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?â
The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. âCaptain, weâwe thought we could pressure the wife. Maybeââ He hesitated, but Hongjoongâs glare pushed him to continue. âMaybe take their belongings or⌠use them to draw him out.â
The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. âUse them?â he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, âYouâre suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldnât do your job?â
The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. âIt was just an idea.â
Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. âIdeas like that will get you killed. You donât lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?â
The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. âY-Yes, Captain.â
âBut you will go back,â Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. âYou will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesnât disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.â
âAnd if she doesnât?â the shark asked hesitantly.
Seonghwaâs smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. âThen you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesnât show his face soon.â
Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the sharkâs. âYou donât come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?â
The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.
âGood,â Hongjoong said curtly. âNow get out of my sight.â
As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. âYou think the wife knows something?"
âIf she does, fear will make her speak,â Hongjoong replied coldly. âAnd if she doesnât, itâll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what weâre owed.â
He thinks for a second and then says â you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now onâ
The sharkâs anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoongâs threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.
âTheyâve made fools of us,â growled the shark, his fists clenched. âItâs her fault the captainâs breathing down our necks. If we canât touch them, weâll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.â
When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.
âWhat do you want now?â she asked, her voice strong but trembling.
The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. âYour lies have caused us enough trouble. Weâre done playing games.â
She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. âIâve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I canât give you what I donât have.â
Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. âYour daughterâwhere is she?â
âSheâs not here,â the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. âSheâs out.â
The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. âGood. That makes this easier.â
Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.
âYouâre coming with us,â the lead shark said coldly.
âYou canât do this,â she stammered, her voice breaking. âWeâre not hurting you,â the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. âWeâre just taking you somewhere else to have a little⌠conversation.â
Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.
____
You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.
âMom?â you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but thereâs no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like somethingâs wrong.
You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but itâs empty. Thereâs no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.
As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?â
You try hard to free yourself.
âYou think you can run from us?â he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. âYou and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But donât worry, weâll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.â
You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!â
"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.
âWe donât need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,â he says, his voice almost⌠amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.
You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. âListen closely, little bird,â he continues, his voice dark and low. âWe need you to understand something. Your fatherâs debt? Itâs a problem. And weâre not leaving here until we get our money back.â
Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. âI donât know where he is.â
âYeah, we know,â he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. âYour fatherâs a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.â He leans down, his face just inches from yours. âBut that doesnât matter. Captain Hongjoongâs been clear. We take whatâs ours. And you?â His smirk widens. âYouâre gonna help us make that happen.â
His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. Youâd heard of himâhis name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. Theyâre using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your fatherâs debt.
âThey need you to make sure your father gets the message,â the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. âWe canât hurt you⌠yet. But weâre going to make sure youâre a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then thatâs what weâll do.â
Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.
He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldnât allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owedâbut theyâd taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasnât part of the deal.
Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didnât need to ask what was wrong. Heâd seen this side of Hongjoong beforeâwhen his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.
âPrepare Jongho and Yunho,â Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. âI want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. Iâll have no one undermining my orders.â
Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
âMake sure itâs handled quietly,â Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. âWe donât need any more attention than we already have. And if theyâve done something unforgivable⌠make sure they know whoâs in charge.â
Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. Heâd follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, theyâd get to the bottom of thisâand if the sharks had crossed a line, theyâd deal with it swiftly.
Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.
Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. âSo, weâre going to investigate what those sharks did⌠and if theyâve really messed up, weâre supposed to clean up their mess?â He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. âSeems like it. I donât think Captain Hongjoongâs happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? Thatâs a whole new level of stupid.â He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.
âI mean, weâre talking about a bunch of thugs who canât follow orders. Whatâs next? Are they going to steal the moon?â
Yunho snorted. âIf they tried, Iâd pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. Weâve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldnât keep their hands to themselves.â
Jongho chuckled darkly. âYeah, because Hongjoongâs âfixing problems quietlyâ approach works out so well, right?â He paused. âLetâs just hope these sharks havenât completely pissed him off. I donât think even we could smooth things over if heâs really that angry.â
He then grinned. âIâll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.â
Yunho shot him a sideways glance. âWhat, you think weâre going to knock some sense into them with our fists?â
âWouldnât be the first time,â Jongho replied, giving him a smile. âThough, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like âHey, donât take the girl, or Iâll break your legs.ââ
Yunho let out a dry laugh. âSounds like a great âconversationâ to me.â
He then smirked at jongho and said, âBut you know, Iâm always ready to put some holes in bastards. Letâs get to work.â (See what I did there? â ÍĄâ °â Íâ Ęâ ÍĄâ ° )
The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jonghoâs grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
âYou ready?â Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.
âYeah, letâs go,â Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jonghoâs steady push, and they silently entered.
Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she wasâtied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.
Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.
He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. âStay focused,â Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. âWeâll get her, but we need to take them down first.â
Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was rightâthey couldnât let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.
In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasnât slowing down.
The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jonghoâs eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.
âHold on,â he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didnât say a wordâher eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.
âYouâre safe now,â Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasnât just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.
She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. âWho are you?â
Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. âJongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoongâs ship.â
Her eyes flickered with recognition. âYou⌠you were at the market.â She hesitated, her voice uncertain. âYou⌠youâre a pirate? Of the Halaziaâ
Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. âWeâre here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.â
She looked around, âBut my mom-â
âYunho will take care of thatâ
Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunhoâs voice was low and urgent. âJongho, weâve got to go, now!â
Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldnât shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasnât sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.
The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didnât care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.
You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.
Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusementâor annoyance, depending on who you asked.
âJongho, will you sit down already?â Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.
Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. âI havenât checked in on her in over a week. What if somethingâs happened? What if someoneâs bothering her again?â
âAgain with the girl,â Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. âYouâve mentioned her three times today already. Youâre worse than Hongjoongâs parrot.â
âWorse than his parrot?â Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. âNow thatâs saying something. I didnât think anyone could top its constant squawking.â
âMaybe the parrotâs jealous,â Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosangâs. âSounds like itâs got competition for Jonghoâs attention.â
Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyoneâs teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"
"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.
âItâs not like that,â Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. âSheâs been through enough already. Someone has to make sure sheâs alright.â
âSomeone?â San chimed in, his grin wide. âOr you?â
âLetâs be real,â Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. âYou donât just want to make sure sheâs safe. Youâre attached. Admit it.â
âSounds like attachment to me,â Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. âYouâre practically obsessing.â
âI wouldnât call it obsession,â Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. âItâs more likeâŚâ He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.
âInfatuation.â
Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. âIâm doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.â
âProtecting her,â Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. âOr is it something more?â
âI donât love her,â Jongho snapped, his tone final.
The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.
âIf you donât love her,â the captain said, leaning back in his chair, âthen stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. Youâre throwing off the entire crew."
âYeah,â Yunho added with a grin. âEven the parrotâs giving you side-eye at this point.â
Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.
Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. âHeâll realize it eventually,â he said quietly.
âOr weâll keep reminding him until he does,â Mingi replied with a chuckle.
As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didnât love her, he told himself. He was just⌠concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.
It had been weeks since youâd last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldnât expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldnât begin to imagine.
But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.
And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard itâthe measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.
âJongho,â you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.
He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. âEverything alright?â he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.
You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. âIt is now. Come in.â
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.
You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didnât say muchâhe rarely didâbut his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how youâd repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.
When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didnât say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.
âIâll check in again,â he said simply.
You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. âIâll be here.â
And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.
You didnât know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didnât either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.
The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.
The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.
âThereâs a festival in town,â he said, his voice low but steady.
You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. âI know. Iâve always wanted to go, butâŚâ
Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.
Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. âWhy not?â
Your mother sighed, folding her arms. âSheâs young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic⌠dangerous. I canât let her go alone.â
âIâll take her,â Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.
âYou'd do that? Take me there?â
âWhy not?â
Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your motherâs gaze evenly, his tone firm. âIâll make sure sheâs safe.â
Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. âAlright. But donât let her out of your sight.â
A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. âThank you, Jongho,â you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.
---
The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.
Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.
âWhere should we go first?â you asked, looking up at him.
He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. âWherever you want.â
âI don't know, you chooseâ
âWe can do whatever you wantâ
You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying âwhatever you wantâ.
You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didnât protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.
You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.
âWhere are you looking at?â
You look back at him and smile, ânothing.â Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.
As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a jugglerâs clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.
He didnât win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.
âYouâre enjoying this too much,â he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.
âMaybe,â you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.
When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.
âThank you,â you said after a while, your voice soft.
Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. âFor what?â
âFor taking me here,â you said, meeting his gaze. âLooking out for me. You didnât have to, but⌠it means a lot.â
He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. âItâs no trouble.â
Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldnât quite place.
âYouâre back,â Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. âHow was your little outing?â
âIt was fine,â Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.
âFine?â Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. âThatâs all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like youâre her hero?â
âWooyoung,â Jongho warned, his tone low.
But the teasing only grew as San joined in. âAdmit it, you enjoyed yourself.â
Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didnât fade.
He didnât understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that⌠he wasnât ready to think about it
The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.
âJongho,â you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.
âHello,â he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.
âWhat brings you here?â you asked, tilting your head curiously.
He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.
You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. âWhatâs this?â
âJust take it,â he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.
With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.
Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. âThese⌠these were at the festival,â you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. âI saw them, butââ.
âYou were staring at them right? That day?,â Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. âFigured you might like them.â
Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. âYou didnât have to do this.â
âI know,â he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. âItâs nothing.â
âItâs not nothing,â you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. âThis is⌠this is the nicest thing anyoneâs done for me.â
Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. âDonât make a big deal out of it. Just thought youâd like them.â
Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. âButâŚâ you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. âArenât these expensive?â
He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. âIâm rich,â he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.
You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. âYouâre what?â
âRich,â he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. âWhy does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?â
âI mean⌠youâre on a ship all the time,â you said, flustered. âYou donât exactly seemââ
âSeem what?â he cut in, raising an eyebrow.
âLike someone whoâd buy earrings for a girl,â you finished, your cheeks warming.
Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. âI didnât buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. Thatâs different.â
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.
âI told you, itâs no big deal,â he continued, his tone softening slightly. âYou liked them, so I got them. Donât think too much about it.â
You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldnât quite name. âThank you,â you said again, your voice quieter this time.
He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. âYouâre welcome.â
As he turned to leave, you couldnât help but call after him, âSo, how rich are we talking?â
Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. âRich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.â
You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.
The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jonghoâs latest visit to your home.
âSo,â Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, âwe heard about the earrings.â
Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. âWhat about them?â
âOh, nothing,â Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. âJust that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.â
San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jonghoâs shoulder. âYou know, if youâre going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?â
Jongho shrugged off Sanâs arm, his expression unimpressed. âIt was just a pair of earrings. Donât make it a big deal.â
âA pair of earrings,â Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. âDo you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for themâŚâ
Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. âIâm just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?â
âHe probably scared the vendor,â Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. âStanding there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.â
Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. âSo, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the shipâs Cupid?â
Jonghoâs patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. âIâm not romantic. I just thought sheâd like them. Thatâs it.â
Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. âHe thought sheâd like them! Oh, itâs worse than we thoughtâheâs thinking about her!â
âThatâs enough,â Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.
Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. âYou know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts youâll be buying her.â
Jongho shot him a sharp look. âYouâre all lucky I donât throw you overboard.â
The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jonghoâs expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldnât fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.
As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didnât regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.
The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the portâand there was no telling when theyâd return.
Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
âSheâll be fine, you know,â Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.
Jongho didnât respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. âI know,â he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.
Yunho chuckled softly. âYouâre terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.â
âLeave him be,â Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. âHeâs just sulking because he canât buy her more earrings from the next town.â
âMaybe we shouldâve taken her with us,â Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jonghoâs other side. âAt least then, Jongho wouldnât be moping around like a kicked puppy.â
Jongho shot him a warning look. âSheâs safer at home.â
âTrue,â Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. âBut are you safer without her?â
The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhereâback at the small house where heâd left you.
Now, as the shipâs anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldnât help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace heâd found there.
Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than heâd expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on youâon your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.
For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.
Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.
They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.
For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.
Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind themâfor now.
The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jonghoâs eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.
As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle changeâa sign hung near the entrance: âHomemade Goods & Repairs.â His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.
He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, âOne moment!â
When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. âJongho!â
You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jonghoâs chest.
âYouâre back,â you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. âI wasnât sure Iâd see you again.â
âI didnât expect to see this,â Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.
You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. âAfter my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.â
Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadnât expected. âYouâre running this by yourself?â
âFor now,â you replied, smiling proudly. âThe townâs been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.â
Jonghoâs gaze lingered on you, and he couldnât help but notice the resilience in your tone. You werenât the fragile girl heâd left behind. Youâd grown, thrived even, despite everything.
âYouâve done well,â he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.
Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldnât stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the seaâa life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.
âYouâve made a good life for yourself,â he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.
You nodded, leaning against the counter. âI have. Itâs not always easy, but itâs mine.â
A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.
âI canât ask you to leave this behind,â he said. âYouâve worked too hard to build it.â
Your brow furrowed as you studied him. âAnd youâre not ready to leave the sea.â
He shook his head. âThat's all Iâve ever known.â
You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. âThen donât. You donât have to choose, Jongho.â
He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.
âYou come and go,â you continued. âThe sea is part of who you are, and I wouldnât want to take that from you. But when youâre here, this can be home. If you want it to be.â
Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadnât known he was searching for.
âI donât deserve that,â he said, his voice barely audible.
You smiled softly. âMaybe not. But itâs here anyway.â
Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasnât sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldnât be fair. You had your life here, and he couldnât ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.
But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.
âMarry me.â
You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before heâd thought it through. But he couldnât take the words back now, and he didnât want to.
He cleared his throat, trying to explain. âI know it sounds sudden, and Iâm not asking you to give up your life here, butâŚâ His voice faltered. âI donât want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when Iâm out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.â
You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted moreâthat he wanted to be with you no matter whatâstirred something deep inside you.
You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. âAre you sure?â you asked quietly. âThis isnât just about wanting me close when itâs convenient for you?â
He shook his head, stepping closer. âNo. I want all of you. Even when Iâm gone. Youâre the only thing thatâs ever made me think about staying.â
You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. âIâm not going anywhere,â you said, your voice steady now. âIf youâre asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. Iâll marry you.â
A smile spread across Jonghoâs face, relief flooding through him. He couldnât remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.
The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldnât be just a visitâit would be home.
Me too, he's my forever favorite boy I love him to bitsđĽšđđ. Honestly him and yeosang are the most criminally underrated members, I don't get why they're not as popular
I may be a San and Hongjoong bias but I will forever fight anyone hating on Jongho and Yeosang. They deserve so much đ𼲠ALSO! This fic needs more attention it's soooo good.
This is 90% accurate Iâm so hyped for this for two reasons - dimples! I love mine but I rarely see platforms that include it. And the hair colour, my hair is red except the fringes, which is a darker, crimson red with pink, and Iâm happy I could change it teehee
Tagging: @arilevenatz @xomakara @edenesth @beatteez (i miss this authorâs writing so much đĽş) + anybody who wants to!
I've seldom been tagged in stuff like this but this was fun! This is accurate leaving out a few things, for eg I have 4 dimples but 3 on one side and 1 on the other. And also I have four ear piercings. But it's still pretty cute đŠˇ
Tagging: @kymimi @freyaphoria (you too are the only ones i talked to on this platform and consider as my friends lmao) (but if anyone wants to do this your free to do so!)
Warnings: very, I mean veryyyy minute talks of suicide, reader has trauma, she had a bad childhood, Imk if I missed any
AN: I always wanted to write an idol x idol reader. And now here we are, our own golden retriever got a fic now. Yes I had fun playing with the characters. The group I created, I really loved how it turned out and I will be using this group again in future idol x idol projects
Yunho had always been the one to capture attention. With his bright smile and natural charisma, he easily stood out. As the lead dancer and main vocalist of ATEEZ, his talent was undeniable. His 6â1â frame and athleticism only added to his presence, making him a natural on stage.
Performing live was where Yunho truly thrived. His dance moves were smooth yet powerful, and his deep voice melted effortlessly into each melody. The energy he brought to every performance made it clear that he was in his element, pouring his heart into every note.
Offstage, Yunho was the playful mood maker. He was always cracking jokes, pulling pranks, or finding ways to make the group laugh. But his fun-loving side hid a deep dedication to his craft. He spent countless hours perfecting his moves, driven by a desire to do his best for ATEEZ and their fans.
Despite his lively exterior, Yunho often found himself reflecting on his connections with others. His passion for music had always led him to form bonds with fellow idols, but lately, he couldnât help but feel that someone new was beginning to take up more space in his thoughts.
The girl group was called Elysium, a name that captured the dream-like, otherworldly energy they exuded on stage. Elysiumâs music was a blend of powerful performances and deep, emotive lyrics, making them stand out in a crowded industry. Their fandom, known as Stellar, was dedicated, passionate, and fiercely protective of the groupâs integrity. Elysium had quickly risen to fame, drawing attention not only for their talent but for their strong bond as a group.
---
Lee Yeji
00', Aries
Leader, Rapper
Yeji was the fiery leader who held the group together with her unwavering confidence. As the lead rapper, her verses were fast and powerful, leaving an impression every time she stepped up to the mic. Her assertive personality made her a natural leader, always taking charge and ensuring the group stayed on track. Offstage, Yeji balanced her strong exterior with a deep care for her members, always looking out for them like a protective older sister.
â
Hwang YN
01', Gemini
Producer, Lyricist, All-rounder
YN, the second oldest in the group, had a deep, commanding voice that often startled people when they first heard it. As a producer and lyricist, she played a key role in crafting Elysiumâs unique sound. While she often appeared emotionless on the outside, YN had a dry wit that made those around her laugh without her intending to. Her calm demeanor and focus on the creative side made her a cornerstone of the group, though her voice alone commanded respect.
---
Jang Wonyoung
04', Sagittarius
Center, Visual, Vocalist
Wonyoung was the visual and center of the group, with an almost ethereal beauty that captured attention immediately. As a vocalist, her voice was sweet and clear, adding a unique texture to Elysiumâs sound. Despite her grace and elegance, Wonyoungâs warmth and playful energy offstage made her approachable and beloved by fans and fellow idols alike.
---
Phan Hanni
04', Virgo
Main Vocalist
Hanniâs voice was the heart of Elysiumâs music, with a range that effortlessly transitioned between delicate ballads and powerful anthems. Though she was soft-spoken offstage, her voice spoke volumes in every performance, conveying emotions with a depth that moved listeners. Hanni's humble nature and dedication to her craft made her one of the most respected members of the group, always striving to perfect her vocal technique.
---
Kang Haneul
05', Libra
Lead Dancer, Maknae
As the youngest, Haneul was the maknae of Elysium, but her skills as the lead dancer made her shine brightly on stage. Her movements were a blend of strength and grace, making every performance feel like an art form. Despite being the youngest, Haneulâs maturity and dedication to dancing set her apart. She was quiet and reserved offstage but showed an intensity and passion whenever she was on the dance floor.
Elysiumâs concept was unlike anything the industry had seen before. They blended nostalgic, early-2000s vibes with a modern twist, creating a sound that felt both fresh and timeless. Their aesthetic was a blend of minimalist cool and raw authenticityâthink vintage street style meets ethereal elegance. Each memberâs individuality was celebrated, with no exaggerated theatrics or over-the-top concepts. Instead, Elysiumâs power lay in their simplicity and authenticity, capturing the hearts of fans by just being themselves.
Their music was a perfect mix of catchy hooks and introspective lyrics, with a laid-back, almost effortless vibe that made each track feel personal. They didnât rely on flashy choreography or ostentatious visuals; instead, their performances were intimate, like you were watching them in a moment of pure, unfiltered connection.
Elysiumâs fashion mirrored this conceptâloose, comfortable fits with a nostalgic edge, often accessorized with subtle details that gave them a chic, effortless flair. Their look was cool but approachable, embodying a laid-back confidence that made them stand out without trying too hard. Their style was a reflection of their personalities: fresh, real, and a little bit rebellious.
Their concept was bold in its restraintâno gimmicks, no forced personasâjust raw talent and a genuine connection to their music and fans. Elysium wasnât just a group; they were a movement, breaking barriers with a sound and aesthetic that felt both innovative and incredibly personal.
Elysium debuted in 2020 with their breakout single "Timeless Echoes", a song that perfectly encapsulated their unique blend of nostalgia and modernity. The track featured mellow, laid-back beats with hauntingly beautiful vocals that echoed their raw, authentic energy. The lyrics, penned by YN, were introspective and reflective, exploring themes of self-discovery, love, and the passage of time. "Timeless Echoes" became an instant favorite, resonating deeply with fans who were drawn to its simplicity and emotional depth.
Their debut album, "Elysian Days", was a seamless reflection of their conceptâminimalistic, authentic, and grounded in real emotions. Every track on the album had been carefully crafted by YN, who not only wrote the lyrics but also produced the sound with an understated elegance that defined the group's style. The album was a mix of mellow ballads, introspective mid-tempos, and smooth, groovy beats. Each song felt like an intimate conversation, where listeners could connect deeply with the groupâs journey, vulnerabilities, and experiences.
Songs like "Daydreams", "Quiet Storm", and "Wanderlust" followed, each contributing to the cohesive, yet diverse, nature of the album.
"Daydreams" captured a sense of youthful wonder and longing,
while "Quiet Storm" was a deeper, more reflective ballad about inner strength and the quiet battles people face.
"Wanderlust" was a smooth, breezy track with a laid-back vibe, encapsulating their desire for freedom and exploration.
"Elysian Days" set the stage for Elysiumâs journey, marking them as an artistically bold and boundary-pushing group in the K-pop scene. They had a sound that was distinctly their own, and with YN's vision and leadership, Elysium was poised to redefine what it meant to be an idol group in the modern music landscape.
The 2020 MJK Awards buzzed with energy as the biggest names in the industry filled the grand venue. ATEEZ sat at their assigned table near the front, their growing fame landing them prime seating. Yunho, ever the curious observer, scanned the room, taking in the glamorous chaos around him. His eyes flickered toward a group seated a little further back, where five girls sat quietly, looking slightly out of place amidst the glittering stars. They carried themselves with an understated confidence that intrigued him.
It was Elysiumâs first award show, and though they were new to the scene, their name had already started making waves. Yunho had heard whispers about themâtheir unique concept, their music written entirely by one of the members, and their captivating simplicity. But it wasnât until they took the stage for their performance that Yunho truly understood the hype.
Their performance was briefâaward show rookie slots were always shortâbut it was enough to command the roomâs attention. The stage lights dimmed, and a haunting melody began to play, accompanied by YNâs deep, rich voice that sent a ripple through the audience. The blend of their vocals, fluid choreography, and the raw authenticity they exuded was magnetic.
Yunho found himself leaning forward in his seat, captivated by the girl with the emotionless expression and commanding voice. There was something about herâhow effortlessly she moved, how her voice seemed to echo with a depth beyond her years. She didnât try to steal the spotlight, but it seemed to find her anyway.
When Elysium was announced as the Rookie of the Year, the girls stood in shock before making their way to the stage. YN stood at the back as Yeji, the leader, delivered a heartfelt thank-you speech. Yunho noticed YN bowing slightly to the crowd, her face still unreadable but her eyes glinting with a quiet pride. She looked at her fellow members with a subtle smile, the kind youâd miss if you werenât paying attention.
As Yeji wrapped up her heartfelt speech, thanking their fans, company, and team, she suddenly turned toward YN with a teasing smile. âOur producer should say something too, right?â she said, nudging her lightly.
The other members chimed in, giggling and encouraging her. âCome on, YN unnie!â Wonyoung whispered, while Haneul gave her a playful push forward. YN hesitated, glancing at the mic with a faint frown, clearly preferring to stay in the background.
But with the crowd now cheering lightly for her, she sighed and stepped closer to the microphone. The room quieted in anticipation.
âThank you,â YN began, her voice low and deep, resonating across the venue like a bass note. It was so unexpectedâsuch a rich, commanding tone coming from someone with such a small, unassuming frameâthat it stunned everyone into silence.
She continued calmly, âI just want to thank our members for trusting my music and making it come to life. And to Stellar, for believing in us and helping us get here. Weâll work harder to show you more of what we can do.â Her delivery was concise, professional, and almost emotionless, but the sheer contrast of her voice and presence left the room mesmerized.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience. Yunho, sitting at the ATEEZ table, felt his eyes widen as he exchanged a look of surprise with Wooyoung. Even some of the seasoned idols were caught off guard, their expressions ranging from awe to disbelief.
By the time Elysium returned to their seats, the buzz around YN had already started. Clips of her speech began circulating online before the event had even ended. Fans titled the videos "Idols Reacting to YNâs Voice", showing the surprised expressions of seniors in the audience, and "Rookie Idol Shocks Everyone with Her Deep Voice."
Within hours, hashtags like #YNsVoice and #ElysiumRookieOfTheYear trended worldwide. Some fans joked, âHow is her voice deeper than most rappers?â while others were in awe of how effortlessly she spoke, carrying such a commanding presence without trying.
YN, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the storm sheâd caused online, quietly congratulating her members and reminding them to stay focused on their next goals. Little did she know, her unique voice and unintentional charisma had left a lasting impression on everyone who heard itâincluding a certain tall, wide-eyed boy named Yunho.
Elysiumâs viral moment following their award show performance had propelled them into the spotlight, and their schedules quickly became packed. One of their most exciting activities was participating in TikTok dance challenges with other idols, a promotional move that fans loved. For their latest collaboration, they were paired with none other than ATEEZ.
YN, as always, stood quietly to the side. She was assigned to lead the challenge, given her knack for precision and her ability to pick up choreography quickly. When the staff revealed the pairings, Yunhoâs heart sank.
âOkay, for this one, weâll have Jongho, Seonghwa, and YN,â the director announced, clapping his hands.
Jongho, standing beside Yunho, grinned and clapped his hands together. âLetâs do this!â he said enthusiastically.
Seonghwa nodded, his elegance evident even as he stretched, preparing for the shoot.
Meanwhile, Yunho stood frozen, his expression falling into something close to disbelief. Of all the people who couldâve been chosen, why not him? He watched as YN walked over to Jongho and Seonghwa with her usual quiet confidence, her deep voice breaking the silence as she asked, âWhatâs the move for the transition?â
Yunhoâs stomach churned as Jongho started laughing and explaining the steps to her, the two of them already getting along. Seonghwa added a few tips, and she nodded, her focus entirely on the choreography.
The shoot began, and the trio nailed the challenge effortlessly. YNâs fluid movements and sharp execution stood out, earning her subtle admiration from Seonghwa and Jongho. The staff clapped as they wrapped up, and YN offered a brief but polite bow before stepping back to join her group.
It was a quiet evening when YN decided to go live on Elysiumâs official account. Sitting comfortably in a simple hoodie with her hair tied back, she greeted her fans with her signature calm demeanor.
âHi, everyone,â she said in her low, steady voice. âIâve been seeing your requests for a live, so here I am. Letâs talk.â
The comments flooded in instantly, with fans typing questions faster than she could read them. YN scrolled through with a small smirk, answering a few at random.
Fan: Whatâs your favorite food these days?
YN: âAh, lately, Iâve been eating way too much tteokbokki. Spicy food keeps me awake when Iâm working late.â
Fan: Whoâs the funniest member in Elysium?
YN: (without hesitation) âWonyoung. She doesnât even try, but the things she says are hilarious. And Haneul is secretly funny tooâshe just doesnât realize it. Hanni is just a yapper.â
Fan: Do you have any hobbies?
YN: âProducing takes up most of my time, but Iâve been getting into reading mystery novels lately. It helps me unwind.â
Fan: Whatâs your favorite song youâve written so far?
YN: âThatâs like choosing a favorite child,â she said with a faint smirk. âBut if I had to pick⌠maybe âWanderlust.â Itâs a personal one, so it means a lot to me.â
Fan: What do you do when youâre not working?
YN: âI sleep,â she said bluntly, earning a flood of laughing emojis in the chat. âBut if Iâm not sleeping, Iâm probably reading or eating.â
The questions kept rolling in, and YN answered them with her usual calm wit, making fans laugh with her unintentional humor. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she brought up something no one had asked.
As the questions continued, a fan comment caught her attention:
Fan: Who are your favorite groups?
YN tilted her head thoughtfully. âHmm, favorite groups? Thatâs hard,â she said, looking genuinely torn. âI really admire Seventeen. Their stage presence, their music, and the way they work together as a team are incredible. My bias is S.Coups. Heâs an amazing leader.â
âAnd... I also really like ATEEZ.â Her voice dropped just slightly, her expression remaining composed, but the slight tilt of her head hinted at something unspoken.
The chat went wild.
Fan: ATEEZ?! OMG, finally someone appreciates them like we do!
Fan: Whatâs your favorite ATEEZ song?!
Fan: She said it so casually, but we know itâs not casual!!!
YN read through the comments, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. âATEEZ has an amazing stage presence,â she said, carefully picking her words. âTheyâre one of those groups that really pour everything into their performances. Itâs inspiring.â
Then, as if testing the waters, someone in the chat asked the inevitable:
Fan: Do you have a bias in ATEEZ?
YNâs calm demeanor wavered for the briefest moment. She paused, as though considering her answer, and then let out a soft chuckle. âAh, I donât really have one. Iâm just... a fan of all of them.â
Her mention of ATEEZ and that small, telling hesitation didnât go unnoticed. The chat exploded.
Fan: Sheâs lying, she totally has a bias!
Fan: YN, we can tell! Just say itâs Yunho, we wonât tell!
Fan: Why does this feel like a confession?!
YN shook her head, her usual emotionless expression tinged with faint amusement. âYou guys are so quick to jump to conclusions,â she said, her deep voice betraying nothing. âBut really, all of ATEEZ is talented. Thatâs all Iâll say.â
As the live progressed, YNâs usual calm, no-nonsense demeanor took a sharper edge when she noticed the comments spiraling. Fans were already speculating and joking about her mentioning ATEEZ, and while some of it was lighthearted, she knew how quickly things could escalate.
She leaned closer to the camera, her deep voice cutting through the excited chatter in the chat. âAlright,â she said, her tone firm, âbefore anyone gets carried away, let me be clear. I donât want to see any unnecessary rumors or assumptions about what I said.â
The chat paused for a moment as fans processed her sudden shift.
âI admire Seventeen and ATEEZ, just like I admire a lot of other groups,â she continued, her gaze steady. âThey work hard, and theyâre talented. Thatâs it. Please donât create unnecessary drama out of this. Focus on supporting the artists you love instead of making things weird.â
Her straightforward approach silenced most of the speculation, with fans quickly apologizing or reassuring her in the chat. Still, clips of her stern warning made their way online, and while many praised her for setting boundaries, others couldnât help but laugh at how serious she became.
A few days later, the members of ATEEZ were scattered around their dorm, enjoying a rare break. Yunho was scrolling through his phone, absentmindedly liking posts when Wooyoung suddenly gasped from the other side of the room.
âGuys!â Wooyoung yelled, nearly tripping over himself as he ran to the living room, phone in hand. âYou have to see this!â
âWhat now?â San groaned, but he leaned in as Wooyoung shoved his phone in their faces.
On the screen was a trending hashtag: #YNWarnsFans, alongside clips of her live where she mentioned ATEEZ and later shut down the rumors.
âWait,â Jongho said, narrowing his eyes. âShe mentioned us? During her live?â
âShe didnât just mention us,â Wooyoung said, his grin widening. âShe told her fans not to start rumors because she respects us so much.â
Yunho froze in his seat, suddenly hyperaware of his teammates' reactions. âWhy are we even trending? She probably mentioned other groups too,â he said, attempting to downplay it.
âOh, she did,â Seonghwa replied, calmly sipping his tea. âBut the way she said our name was... interesting.â
âWhat do you mean interesting?â Yunho asked, his voice rising slightly.
âYou know, it had weight,â Wooyoung said, mimicking YNâs deep voice dramatically. ââI also really like ATEEZ.ââ
San burst out laughing. âI think she scared her fans into behaving! Look at this.â He pulled up another clip from the live where YN firmly told her fans to focus on supporting artists instead of causing drama.
âSheâs strict,â Jongho said with a chuckle. âI respect that.â
âBut why do her fans think thereâs more to it?â Mingi asked, looking genuinely confused as he scrolled through posts.
Wooyoung leaned closer to Yunho, smirking. âBecause, dear Yunho, they picked up on something. Maybe we should too.â
Yunho shoved Wooyoung away, his face heating up. âYouâre all reading too much into this,â he muttered, though his heart was racing.
But even as the teasing continued, the thought of YN deliberately mentioning ATEEZâand how she handled the situation so seriouslyâlingered in Yunhoâs mind longer than he wanted to admit.
A few years after their debut, Elysium had solidified themselves as one of the most unique and beloved groups in the industry. Their artistry and authenticity had earned them a loyal fanbase, and their ability to stay grounded despite their success only made fans adore them more. So, when YN was invited to participate in a new, groundbreaking show where idols opened up about their lives and struggles, fans were both thrilled and nervous.
The concept of the show was simple: one idol, one camera, and complete vulnerability. It wasnât scripted or rehearsed, just an intimate conversation that allowed idols to connect with their fans on a deeper level. YN, known for her reserved and straightforward nature, was an interesting choice, and many fans wondered if she would even share much.
The studio was dimly lit, the focus entirely on YN as she sat in a simple chair, dressed casually in a white sweater and jeans. The setup was minimalâjust her, the camera, and a producer sitting off-screen to guide the conversation.
After a brief introduction, the producer asked the first question. âLetâs start with something simple. How would you describe your journey as an idol so far?â
YN leaned back slightly, her deep voice calm but reflective. âItâs been... fulfilling, but not easy,â she admitted. âI think people assume that just because weâre successful now, everything was smooth sailing. But thatâs far from the truth.â
The producer nodded, encouraging her to continue. âWhat were some of the challenges you faced?â
YN took a moment to gather her thoughts. âWhen Elysium debuted, we werenât like other groups. Our concept was different, our music wasnât the mainstream sound, and we didnât fit into the mold of what people expected. At first, it felt like we were always trying to prove ourselves. I remember the pressure was so intense that I barely slept those first few months because I was constantly writing and producing, trying to make sure we stood out.â
She paused, her expression softening slightly. âBut the hardest part wasnât the workâit was the doubt. There were moments when I wondered if I was good enough to be the producer and lyricist for a group like ours. I knew my members trusted me, but I didnât always trust myself.â
The producer gently asked, âWhat kept you going during those times?â
âMy members,â YN replied immediately, a rare, small smile gracing her lips. âYeji, Wonyoung, Hanni, and Haneulâthey never doubted me, even when I doubted myself. Theyâd stay with me during late-night studio sessions, bring me snacks, or just sit quietly while I worked. It sounds small, but it reminded me that I wasnât alone.â
The conversation then shifted to her personal life. âFans have always admired your confidence and maturity. Have you always been like this?â
YN let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. âNot at all. Growing up, I was pretty shy and quiet. My voice was always deeper than the other kidsâ, and I got teased for it. It made me insecure for a long time, but eventually, I learned to own it. Now, I think my voice is one of my strengths.â
The producer hesitated before asking the next question. âWhatâs something most people donât know about you?â
YNâs expression grew serious, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. âI think people assume that because Iâm strict with fans and straightforward in interviews, Iâm... cold or distant. But the truth is, I care deeply about the people around me. I just donât always know how to show it. Itâs something Iâm working on.â
The producer wrapped up the session by asking, âWhat would you say to your fans who are watching this?â
YN looked directly into the camera, her deep voice steady but warm. âThank you. For believing in us, for giving us the chance to grow, and for supporting us even when things werenât perfect. I know I can be tough sometimes, but itâs because I respect you all and want to protect what weâve built together. So... thank you.â
The producer leaned forward slightly, their voice gentle but curious. âWhat are your fears, YN?â
YNâs calm demeanor faltered just a bit as she shifted in her seat, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her sweater. For a moment, she seemed hesitant, but then she answered, her deep voice steady and straightforward.
âDeep water. The ocean. I hate them,â she said bluntly.
The producer looked surprised. âReally? Thatâs interesting. Why is that?â
YN exhaled softly, her expression unreadable. âThereâs something about it... the unknown. Itâs so vast, so unpredictable. You donât know whatâs underneath, and that terrifies me. It feels... suffocating.â
She paused, her gaze lowering slightly as she continued. âI think itâs the idea of being completely out of control. You canât see, you canât touch the bottomâitâs just endless. Itâs not something Iâve ever been able to get over.â
The producer nodded, sensing the depth of her fear. âHave you ever had to face it?â
YN shook her head firmly. âNo, and I donât plan to. Iâll admire the ocean from a safe distance, thank you very much. But you wonât catch me on a boat or anywhere near deep water. Thatâs non-negotiable.â
The producer hesitated before asking the next question, clearly aware of its weight. âCan you tell us about your family?â
YNâs usually calm expression shifted slightly, her deep voice quiet as she began, âMy familyâŚâ She trailed off, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. For a moment, it seemed like she wouldnât answer, but then she exhaled deeply and decided to speak.
âWhen I was 11, everything changed,â she started, her voice steady but void of emotion. âMy dad lost his job. At first, we thought it was temporary, that things would get better. But they didnât.â
She paused, her eyes glancing briefly off-camera. âHe started drinking. A lot. And gambling. He couldnât handle the stress, I guess. It became this... downward spiral. Debt piled up, and suddenly, money lenders were showing up at our house, banging on the door.â
Her lips pressed into a thin line before she continued, her voice a fraction quieter. âThere were times I had to hide. My mom would pull me into a room and tell me to stay quiet while she dealt with them. She tried to protect me, but I could hear everythingâthe shouting, the threats.â
The producer stayed silent, letting her speak at her own pace.
âMy mom... sheâs the strongest person I know,â YN said, her tone softening slightly. âShe held everything together when it felt like the world was falling apart. But Iâd see her break, late at night, when she thought I was asleep. Sheâd cry, or just sit there, staring at nothing. It was like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.â
Her gaze darkened as she continued. âAnd my dad⌠heâd talk about ending it all. Killing himself. Heâd say it like it was a casual thing, and I didnât know how to react. I was just a kid, and I felt so helpless. There were days I hated him for what he was putting us through, but at the same time, I was terrified of losing him.â
The producerâs voice was gentle when they asked, âDid you have anyone else to lean on during that time?â
YN shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. âNo. Iâm an only child, and my cousinsâthey werenât exactly kind. My parents borrowed money from everyone in the family, and that became the reason I was bullied by my cousins. Theyâd call me names, make fun of how my family couldnât afford things. It got to the point where I dreaded family gatherings because I knew Iâd be humiliated.â
She paused, her voice tightening slightly. âMy studies fell apart. I used to be a good student, but I couldnât focus. Everything felt meaningless when your home life is a disaster. And I didnât have best friends or anyone to turn to. I was alone. Completely alone.â
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.
âBut,â YN said, her voice regaining some strength, âI think thatâs what made me who I am today. I had to grow up fast. I learned how to survive, how to be self-sufficient. And when I finally got the chance to chase my dreams, I put everything into it because I knew what it was like to have nothing.â
The producer nodded, visibly moved. âYouâve come so far, YN. Thank you for sharing something so personal.â
The episode aired a week later, and fans were stunned. Many had known bits and pieces of her story, but hearing her lay it all out like this was heartbreaking. Social media exploded with messages of support, with hashtags like #YNStrong and #ProudOfYN trending for days.
Yunho couldnât stop thinking about YNâs story. Heâd always been a fan of her work, admiring her talents as a producer, lyricist, and performer. But after hearing about her past, his admiration transformed into deep respect. She wasnât just an artist he looked up to; she was someone who had overcome unimaginable challenges to stand where she was now.
âSheâs incredible,â Yunho murmured one evening while scrolling through clips of YNâs interview on his phone.
âWhatâs that?â Hongjoong asked from across the room, looking up from his laptop.
âYN,â Yunho said, setting his phone down. âYou watched her interview, right? Sheâs... amazing. I mean, her talent was already obvious, but after hearing her story, I respect her so much more. Sheâs been through so much and still came out stronger.â
Hongjoong nodded, leaning back in his chair. âSheâs definitely one of the most genuine idols out there. Her story hit hard, and the way she handles herself? Itâs admirable.â
Yunho hesitated for a moment before speaking. âHyung, youâre good at networking and... you know, initiating things. Donât you think itâd be great if we worked with her? Like, a Collab? Sheâs a producer, youâre a producerâit just makes sense.â
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. âIs this about work, or is this about you being a fanboy?â
Yunho flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. âItâs about work,â he insisted, though the slight stammer in his voice gave him away. âSeriously, though. A Collab with her would be amazing. She has such a unique sound, and I think we could create something incredible together.â
Hongjoong chuckled, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes. âYouâre not wrong. Elysiumâs sound is distinct, and her skills as a producer are no joke. Itâd be interesting to see how our styles would blend.â
âSo, will you reach out?â Yunho asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
âSure,â Hongjoong said with a shrug. âIâll bring it up with the company first, then see if Elysiumâs side is interested. But donât get your hopes up too fast. These things take time.â
Yunho nodded eagerly, already imagining what a collaboration with YN could look like. It wasnât just about the musicâthough he truly believed they could create something amazing together. It was also a chance to work with someone he admired deeply, someone who inspired him not just as an artist but as a person.
A few days later, Hongjoong brought it up during a company meeting, pitching the idea with his usual confidence. The team seemed intrigued, and word was sent to Elysiumâs management.
Unbeknownst to Yunho, YN herself was surprised when her company informed her of the request. A collaboration with ATEEZ? Specifically involving Hongjoong? She respected ATEEZ as artists, and the idea piqued her interest.
But for YN, who always approached her work with precision and seriousness, this wasnât just about making a hit song. It was about finding the right synergy, the perfect balance between two distinct artistic visions.
As the initial talks began between the two companies, Yunho could barely contain his excitement. This was the beginning of something bigâhe could feel it. Whether or not YN would ever know how much her story and strength inspired him, Yunho was determined to give this project everything he had.
After the collaboration, Yunho finally decided it was time to approach YN. He couldnât ignore the pull he felt toward her anymore. Her story, her strength, her talentâthey had all left a deep impression on him. But more than that, he wanted to know the person behind the stoic demeanor, the person who had fought through so much to stand where she was.
He asked Hongjoong for advice. âWhat do I even say? I donât want to freak her out or make it awkward.â
âJust be honest,â Hongjoong said simply. âShe doesnât seem like the type who likes sugarcoating. Just tell her how you feel.â
So, a few days later, Yunho worked up the courage. They crossed paths backstage at a music event, and he casually approached her during a quiet moment.
âHey, YN,â he said, his usual bright smile lighting up his face. âDo you have a minute?â
YN turned to him, her expression unreadable but polite. âSure, whatâs up?â
Yunho hesitated for a split second but pushed forward. âI wanted to say... I really admire you. Not just for your talent, but for how strong you are. I know youâve been through a lot, and... Iâd like to get to know you better, if thatâs okay.â
YN blinked, clearly caught off guard. She wasnât used to people approaching her so directly. After a brief silence, she let out a small sigh. âSunbaenim, I... I appreciate that, but Iâm not in the best place right now. Mentally, emotionallyâIâm just... not okay. Iâm so busy, and I have a lot on my plate already. I donât think I can handle a relationship, or evenââ
âIâm not asking you to handle anything,â Yunho interrupted softly. His usual playful demeanor was replaced with something serious and genuine. âIâm not here to add to your burdens. I just want to be there for you. To take care of you, in any way I can.â
YN looked at him, her guard slipping slightly as she searched his face. âYou say that now, but... Iâm not easy to deal with. I have days where I can barely hold myself together. I donât want to drag anyone down with me.â
Yunho smiled, his voice steady. âIâm not scared of that. Everyone has their struggles, and youâve been carrying so much on your own for so long. Let someone be there for you for once. I donât need anything from youâI just want to help lighten the load, even if itâs just a little.â
YNâs lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. Part of her wanted to push him away, to stick to the walls she had built around herself. But another part of herâthe part that had spent so many years feeling aloneâwas tempted to let someone in, even just a little.
â...Youâre persistent, arenât you?â she finally said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
Yunho grinned, his warmth returning. âYou have no idea.â
YN shook her head, but there was a softness in her eyes now. âAlright, Sunbaenim. But donât say I didnât warn you.â
âI can handle it,â he said confidently. âYouâll see.â
It was a small step, but for Yunho, it was a start. He knew it wouldnât be easy, but he was determined to show YN that she didnât have to face everything alone anymore.
Yunho didnât back down after that conversation. If anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to show YN that he was serious about what heâd said. He didnât push her boundaries or overwhelm herâinstead, he made his presence known in small, thoughtful ways.
It started with endless messages. Texts that werenât demanding but comforting.
âHope todayâs schedule isnât too hectic. Donât forget to eat something good!â
âJust heard a song that reminded me of you. Maybe we can listen together someday?â
YN would read his texts late at night, her lips twitching into an involuntary smile. Sometimes she replied with a quick âThanksâ or a simple thumbs-up, but Yunho never seemed discouraged. Heâd keep sending messages, as though he didnât expect anything in return, just wanting her to know he was thinking of her.
On social media, Yunho started dropping subtle hints. Nothing too obvious, but enough to make fans and even his members suspicious. Heâd mention how much he admired producers who put their heart into their work or casually praise Elysium in interviews.
In one live, a fan asked him what song he was listening to lately, and he grinned. âOh, thereâs this really cool track by a certain producer I admire. Itâs on repeat, but I wonât say who. Letâs just say theyâre super talented.â
ATEEZ fans picked up on it quickly, speculating wildly about who he was talking about. Meanwhile, YN watched the chaos unfold on Twitter, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. She knew exactly who Yunho was referring to, and though she tried to act unaffected, she couldnât help the warmth that crept into her chest.
Even his fellow members started teasing him.
âYunho, are you trying to be sneaky with those hints?â Wooyoung asked during one live, grinning mischievously.
âHints? I donât know what youâre talking about,â Yunho replied, his tone light but his smile betraying him.
âYouâre so obvious,â Seonghwa added with a knowing smirk.
But Yunho didnât care. He wasnât trying to hide how he feltâhe just wanted to take his time and let YN see that he wasnât going anywhere.
The fans werenât the only ones who noticed, though. YNâs members caught on too.
âYunhoâs really persistent, huh?â Yeji teased one day as they scrolled through comments under one of his interviews.
âI think itâs cute,â Wonyoung chimed in, grinning.
âMore like annoying,â YN muttered, though the faint blush on her cheeks said otherwise.
Haneul smirked, nudging her. âYou like the attention. Admit it.â
âI donât,â YN said quickly, but her voice lacked conviction.
Despite her protests, YN couldnât deny that Yunhoâs endless effort was starting to chip away at the walls sheâd built. His sincerity, his warmth, and his determination to make her feel cared forâit was something she hadnât experienced before.
She wasnât ready to fully let him in yet, but she found herself replying to his messages more often, even if it was just to tell him about her day or share a funny meme. And every time, Yunhoâs responses were full of enthusiasm, as though he cherished every word she sent him.
Slowly but surely, Yunho was proving to her that he meant what he saidâthat he would take care of her, no matter what. And while YN was still hesitant, she couldnât help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she didnât have to keep pushing him away.
One evening, Yunho went live, sitting comfortably in a hoodie, his radiant smile lighting up the screen. The live started like any otherâhim chatting with ATINY, answering questions, joking around, and sharing a bit about his day. But as the live went on, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more reflective.
âATINY,â he began, leaning closer to the camera, his expression sincere. âYouâve been with me through so muchâmy ups, my downs, and everything in between. Iâve always felt your love and support, and itâs what keeps me going every day.â
The chat flooded with hearts and messages of encouragement.
He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck as if gathering his thoughts. âBut thereâs something Iâve been thinking about lately. Iâm getting older, and I know that as idols, thereâs this expectation... to focus only on our careers. To be... untouchable, in a way.â
The chat slowed down as fans sensed he was about to say something important.
âBut I want to be honest with you,â Yunho continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. âThere may come a time when I fall in love with someone. I donât know when, and I donât know who, but when that happens, I hope youâll love me no matter what. Iâve always wanted to give you my best, and I will continue to do that, but I also want to be true to myself.â
The chat exploded with messages of support.
âWeâll love you no matter what!â
âYou deserve to be happy, Yunho!â
âATINY will always stand by you!â
Yunho smiled softly, his eyes glistening slightly. âThank you. That means more to me than I can say. Iâve been so lucky to have fans like youâpeople who understand that weâre human too, with dreams and emotions like anyone else.â
He hesitated for a moment, then added with a playful grin, âBut donât worry, ATINY. For now, Iâm still all yours. Just... if the day ever comes, I hope youâll support me the same way you always have.â
The live ended with Yunho thanking everyone and promising to work harder for ATINY.
Within minutes of the live ending, hashtags like #WeLoveYouYunho and #ATINYSupportsYunho trended worldwide on Twitter. Fans posted clips of his heartfelt speech, praising his honesty and maturity.
âYunho deserves all the happiness in the world.â
âThis is why we stan himâheâs so real and genuine.â
âNo matter who he loves, ATINY will always be here!â
Even Yunhoâs fellow members teased him afterward, showing him the trending hashtags. âLook at this,â Wooyoung said, laughing. âYouâre literally trending everywhere.â
Yunho just smiled, feeling a sense of relief and gratitude. He didnât know what the future held, but knowing ATINY had his back made him feel braver about whatever lay aheadâespecially when it came to someone like YN.
A year after Yunhoâs heartfelt live, the news that fans had been quietly speculating about finally broke. Dispatch, the notorious news outlet, published an exclusive article revealing that Yunho and YN were allegedly dating. The article included photos of the two of them together on several occasions, some taken during casual outings, others during events where theyâd been seen talking closely, laughing, and even holding hands when they thought no one was looking.
The news spread like wildfire across social media, causing an immediate uproar. Fans were quick to reactâsome in shock, others in support, and a few, unfortunately, in anger. The inevitable backlash began to rise, fueled by certain fans who felt betrayed or disappointed that their favorite idols were in a relationship. They bombarded social media with their opinions, criticizing both Yunho and YN for being âunprofessionalâ or âdisrespectfulâ to their fandoms. But what they hadnât anticipated was the unwavering defense that came from both Yunho and YNâs fans.
ATINY, in particular, stood as a united front. The fanbase, known for their loyalty and dedication, came together like never before. Tweets flooded the timelines, filled with messages like:
âYunho deserves love just like anyone else! #WeLoveYouYunhoâ âYN is amazing, and they make each other happy. Why canât we just support them? #WeSupportYNandYunhoâ âLove isnât a crime. Let them be happy. #ATINYSUPPORTSYNANDYUNHOâ
The hashtag #YNandYunho began trending worldwide, and posts defending the couple filled every social platform. ATINY showed their devotion not only to Yunho but also to YN, who was just as much a target of the hate. Elysiumâs fandom, although smaller, also rallied behind their idol, and soon, the combined power of both fanbases made the negative voices seem like a distant echo.
Even YN, who had always been known for her more private nature, made a statement on her social media:
âTo all the people spreading hate, I just want to say that Iâm happy. Yunho is someone I care about deeply, and weâre both doing our best to navigate this world as we see fit. I hope you can respect our privacy and our decisions. Thank you to everyone who has supported us with kindness. We see you, and we appreciate you.â
Yunho, too, shared his thoughts:
âThank you to ATINY for always having my back. I know this might be a lot for some people to understand, but YN and I are happy, and weâre just two people who care about each other. We hope you can support us as we continue to work hard for you. Love is love.â
The company quickly addressed the situation as well, confirming the dating rumors. They emphasized that both Yunho and YN were adults who were fully aware of the impact of their relationship and the responsibility that came with their public lives. The statement also reassured fans that their careers and work ethics would remain unaffected, and they would continue to put their best foot forward in everything they did.
Despite the hate, the overwhelming support from fans made it clear that they were not alone. The strength of ATINY and Elysiumâs support made Yunho and YNâs bond feel more solid than ever. And while the situation was far from perfect, it showed that loveâtrue loveâcould thrive even in the world of K-pop, where idols are often seen as untouchable. Together, they navigated the challenges that came their way, knowing that the people who mattered mostâeach other and their loyal fansâhad their backs no matter what.
YN, as always, found herself overthinking everything. The moment the rumors broke, she spiraled into a sea of doubts. The backlash wasnât easy to ignoreâshe could see the comments, the subtle whispers, and the hate that was beginning to flood social media. Despite the overwhelming support, the negativity seemed to weigh heavily on her heart.
She constantly found herself checking her phone, replaying every moment, every interaction with Yunho, wondering if it was all worth it. Was she just dragging him into the chaos of her own life? Could she really handle being in the spotlight like this? Was it fair to Yunho?
Her mind raced as the pressure mounted. What if things didnât work out? What if the hate only grew stronger? And what if it affected his career, his image, his future?
âYN?â Yunhoâs voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. Heâd noticed how distant sheâd been recently.
She looked up at him, her eyes tired and full of uncertainty. âYunho⌠I just⌠I donât know how to handle all this. It feels too overwhelming. What ifââ
Before she could finish, Yunho pulled her into his arms, his warmth surrounding her like a protective shield. âHey, listen to me. You donât have to handle it alone. Iâm here. Weâre in this together. And if anyone hurts you, I swear Iâll take care of it.â
YN shook her head, pulling back slightly. âI donât want you to do anything drastic, Yunho. You canât just fix everything with threats. We canât handle it that way.â
He sighed, a little frustrated but understanding. âBut if it were up to me, Iâd sue anyone who dares to disrespect you. Theyâll learn that no one gets to hurt the people I care about.â
YN laughed, despite herself, shaking her head. âYunho, please. You canât go around suing people because they say something rude. Thatâs not how it works.â
But Yunho wasnât ready to back down. He reached for her hand, his gaze firm. âIâll do a live. Iâll threaten them, make it clear that anyone who hurts you will face consequences. Iâll make them understand, YN.â
YN looked at him, her heart swelling at the sight of how much he cared for her. But as much as she appreciated his protective instinct, she knew it wasnât the solution. âYou donât have to fight my battles for me,â she said softly, squeezing his hand. âI canât let you do that. Please donât. I donât want anyone to think youâre only with me because youâre trying to fix things.â
He looked at her with unwavering determination, but she could see the understanding in his eyes. âI just want to protect you, YN. I care about you so much.â
âI know,â she whispered, her heart aching. âI care about you, too. But we have to be strong together. Not because of what they say, but because of how we feel.â
Yunhoâs expression softened, his arms wrapping around her again. âI love you, YN. No matter what, Iâll love you. And Iâll stand by you through all of itâgood or bad.â
YN closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love and support. She knew the road ahead wouldnât be easy. There would be days when the world seemed too harsh, when the hate would feel unbearable. But with Yunho by her side, she knew she wasnât facing it alone. He was her strength, and she was his.
âThank you,â she whispered, her voice barely audible. âThank you for loving me.â
âIâll always love you,â Yunho said, his voice full of quiet confidence. âNo matter what.â
And despite the uncertainty that still lingered, YN felt a flicker of peace. With Yunho, they could handle whatever came their way. Together.
The days that followed were still filled with challenges, but something about their bond made everything seem a little lighter. Yunho and YN grew closer, their moments together filled with laughter and quiet comfort. The hate that once surrounded them felt distant, as the love and support from their fans only seemed to grow stronger.
On the rare days when they had time off, they would meet up in small, cozy cafes or take walks in the park, just enjoying each other's company without the pressure of the world around them. Yunho would always find a way to make her smile, whether it was with his cheesy jokes or by simply holding her hand, offering her the kind of warmth that made her forget about everything else.
One evening, they sat together on a bench in a secluded park, the sunset painting the sky with soft pinks and oranges. Yunho rested his head on her shoulder, his hand gently intertwined with hers.
âYou know,â he said softly, his voice filled with contentment, âIâm glad I didnât back down when I first decided to love you. All of this⌠itâs worth it. Youâre worth it.â
YN smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. âIâm glad you didnât either. Youâve made everything feel a little less overwhelming, Yunho.â
He looked up at her, his eyes full of affection. âAnd youâve made me believe that love is worth fighting for. That itâs worth all the risks. Iâll always be here for you, YN. Always.â
YN leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. âI love you, Yunho.â
âI love you, too,â he whispered, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.
They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the peaceful silence, content in each otherâs presence. No drama, no expectationsâjust the two of them, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the world and the unwavering certainty of their love. It was a love that had stood the test of everything that had been thrown their way. And, as they held each other close, they knew they were ready to face whatever came nextâtogether, as they always had been.
Genre: Arranged marriage au, fluff (omg so much of it)
Word count: 10k
Warnings: none :)
AN: Get ready to be bombarded with the most gentleman of gentleman Seonghwa. Omg he is so sweet to mc. I wrote this solely because I had a thought of ONE scene from this and I wrote an entire fic based on it. And don't forget to like and reblog pls it motivates me to write more!!!
In the heart of the flourishing kingdom of Eryndor stood a grand castle, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens as if to touch the very stars. Within its walls resided the royal family: King Park, a wise and benevolent ruler; Queen Park, a graceful and compassionate woman; and their only son, Crown Prince Park Seonghwa.
Prince Seonghwa was the embodiment of strength and discipline. His cold, straightforward demeanor had earned him a reputation as a strict and unyielding leader. While some whispered of his severity, the majority of Eryndorâs people revered him. For though his words were sharp and his judgments firm, his actions always spoke of his deep love for the kingdom.
Each morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the castle windows, Seonghwa would rise, his mind already set on the dayâs duties. From overseeing military drills to attending council meetings, his meticulous nature allowed no room for error. He walked the castle halls with a commanding presence, his dark eyes scanning every corner, every detail, ensuring that everything was in its rightful place.
Despite his stern exterior, Seonghwaâs heart was one of quiet devotion. He spent hours in the castle library studying the histories of past kings and queens, seeking wisdom to guide his future rule. He visited the kingdom's towns and villages, speaking to the people not with flowery words but with a genuine desire to understand their struggles.
Even in the grand halls of the castle, where the kingdomâs most influential figures gathered for meetings and important events, Crown Prince Seonghwa was a figure of quiet authority. Draped in royal attire that reflected his status, he sat at the long, ornate table, his posture impeccable, his expression unreadable.
Unlike many who sought to fill the air with their voices, Seonghwa remained silent, his sharp eyes observing every gesture, every word exchanged. He spoke only when addressed directly, and even then, his responses were concise and precise, like arrows hitting their mark.
At times, his silence unnerved those around him. Ministers and advisors would glance at him nervously, uncertain of what he might be thinking. Yet, when he did speak, his words carried such weight and clarity that they often silenced the entire room.
During a particularly heated council meeting, where arguments about the kingdomâs trade policies had reached a crescendo, Seonghwa had remained still, his gaze shifting between the quarreling parties. Finally, when the king himself turned to him for his opinion, Seonghwaâs voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
âTrade benefits the kingdom only when it is fair and sustainable,â he stated coldly. âIf you cannot negotiate terms that protect Eryndorâs interests while maintaining alliances, then perhaps someone more capable should handle the matter.â
The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present. Though his tone was devoid of anger, his bluntness left no room for misinterpretation. The advisors exchanged uneasy glances, while the king nodded, a faint smile of approval gracing his lips.
At royal banquets and celebrations, Seonghwaâs presence was equally commanding, even though he rarely indulged in pleasantries. While others mingled and exchanged smiles, he stood by the sidelines, his watchful eyes scanning the room for anything amiss. When addressed, he responded with the same measured calm, his words carrying a sense of purpose that few could match.
The people of Eryndor often whispered about his reserved nature, some calling it aloofness, others seeing it as strength. But whether feared or admired, there was no denying that Crown Prince Park Seonghwa was a man of unwavering discipline and control, a leader who valued action over words and results over empty promises.
The grand dining hall of the castle was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of Eryndorâs storied history. The royal family dined in silence, the clinking of silverware the only sound until Queen Park, with her ever-graceful demeanor, broke the silence.
âSeonghwa,â she began, her voice gentle but firm, âyour father and I have been discussing a matter of great importance.â
The Crown Prince, seated at the head of the table, set his goblet down with practiced precision. His dark eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression as composed as ever. âPray, speak your mind, Mother.â
The queen exchanged a brief glance with the king before continuing. âIt is time, my son, for you to consider a union. The kingdom requires a future queen, someone to stand by your side and share the burdens of rule.â
Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, his posture unyielding as his gaze shifted between his parents. âIs that so?â His tone was measured, devoid of enthusiasm. âI was under the impression that my duties as Crown Prince were quite sufficient without the added endeavor of courtship.â
King Park sighed, his deep voice resonating through the room. âIt is not merely about duty, Seonghwa. A union strengthens alliances, fortifies the kingdomâs position, and, dare I say, may bring you some measure of solace in the years to come.â
âSolace,â Seonghwa repeated, a faint trace of irony in his voice. âHow poetic. Yet I see no such necessity. The kingdom flourishes, the council obeys, and the people prosper. What more is required?â
Queen Parkâs serene expression faltered ever so slightly. âA ruler cannot stand alone forever. You may not see the need now, but in time, you will.â
For days thereafter, the subject lingered like an unwelcome guest, the queen and king broaching the topic at every opportunity. Seonghwa, however, remained steadfast in his reluctance, deflecting their attempts with a mastery born of his disciplined nature.
But even the most resolute walls crumble under relentless tides. On the morning of the seventh day, Seonghwa finally relented, though his disinterest was plain for all to see.
âVery well,â he said, his voice as cold as the winter wind. âIf it shall grant me relief from your incessant nagging, I shall meet this woman you have selected. But let it be known, I do this not out of desire, but out of obligation.â
Queen Parkâs face lit up with a hopeful smile, though she knew better than to voice her triumph aloud. âYou shall not regret it, my son. We have known the Hwang household for a while now.â
Seonghwa rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and measured. âWe shall see, Mother,â he replied, his tone carrying the faintest edge of skepticism. âThough I pray you do not expect me to feign interest where there is none.â
With that, he left the room, his long cloak trailing behind him, the echo of his boots fading into the distance. The queen sighed, her heart a mixture of relief and concern. For while her son had agreed, his heart remained as untouchable as ever.
The Hwang household was one of great renown in the kingdom, its name carrying a legacy of loyalty and service to the royal family. Your grandfather, Hwang Taejin, had been the closest confidant of King Park when he ascended the throne, forging a bond that still tied the two families together.
As the youngest daughter, you were the quiet shadow amidst your lively siblings. Your eldest sister, Hwang Seoyoon, was the pride of the familyâa graceful woman of charm and poise, admired by many. Your brothers, Hwang Jinhyuk, Hwang Minseok, and Hwang Daehyun, were no less impressive: boisterous, ambitious, and ever eager to showcase the familyâs brilliance to the world.
And then there was you.
While Seoyoon spent hours selecting gowns and jewels, and your brothers busied themselves with their social engagements, you preferred the solace of your room or the quiet corners of the garden. Your straightforward nature often set you apart; you had no patience for flowery words or pointless chatter. When spoken to, you answered with blunt honesty, a trait that earned you both admiration and exasperation in equal measure.
âHonestly, youâre hopeless,â Seoyoon often sighed, fussing over her reflection in a gilded mirror. âHow can you expect to make a good match if you refuse to step outside?â
âWho says I expect to make a match at all?â you would reply, your tone calm but unyielding.
Jinhyuk, the eldest of your brothers, was no less persistent. âYouâre the youngest. People expect you to be lively and charming, not... whatever this is.â He gestured vaguely in your direction.
âThen people are fools for expecting anything at all,â you would counter, much to his chagrin.
Minseok and Daehyun, the middle brothers, often tried to coax you out of the house with promises of excitement. âCome, little sister,â Minseok would say, his grin infectious. âThereâs a festival in the town square. Youâll love it!â
âNo,â you replied curtly, not even glancing up from your book.
âJust once,â Daehyun chimed in, leaning against the doorframe. âYouâre wasting your youth locked away in here.â
âBetter to waste it in peace than to squander it in nonsense,â you retorted.
Your parents, while loving, were equally puzzled by your reluctance to engage in the vibrant social life your family cherished. âYou are a Hwang,â your mother reminded you one evening. âWith that name comes responsibility. You cannot hide away forever.â
But you didnât see it as hiding. To you, the world beyond your home was a noisy, chaotic place, and you found no joy in it. The garden, the library, the quiet evenings by the fireâthese were your treasures, and you saw no reason to trade them for the fleeting pleasures your siblings pursued.
Unbeknownst to you, however, your life was about to be entangled with the royal family in a way you could never have anticipated.
The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows of your room as you sat in your favorite corner, a thick book resting in your lap. The quiet rustle of pages was soothing, a rare moment of peace in a household that was anything but.
Your eldest sister, Seoyoon, had made herself comfortable on the chaise near the window. She was in the midst of a long-winded tale about the latest fashions in court, her voice animated and full of excitement. You, however, barely glanced up, too engrossed in the intricate story unfolding in your book.
âAnd then Lady Eunhwa had the audacity to wear the same gown twice in one week!â Seoyoon exclaimed, placing a dramatic hand on her chest. When you failed to respond, she huffed, her voice turning teasing. âAre you even listening? Or is that book more interesting than my tales?â
âFar more interesting,â you replied bluntly, not looking up.
She clicked her tongue in exasperation but continued regardless. âOh, by the way, two of the kingâs guards came by today.â
At that, your eyes flickered up from the page, though only briefly. It wasnât unusual for members of the royal household to visit. After all, the king favored your father greatly, treating him almost like a younger brother. The king, slightly younger than your late grandfather, had become close to your family over the years, especially as your father had grown into a trusted confidant.
âItâs hardly news, unnie,â you said, turning a page. âThe kingâs guards have been here countless times before.â
âYes, but they donât usually come with such a formal air,â she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. âI overheard Father speaking with them. It seems they were delivering a message about... well, something rather important.â
You raised an eyebrow, finally giving her your full attention. âImportant how?â
âOh, I wouldnât want to spoil the mystery,â she said coyly, though you could tell she was itching to share. âBut I will say thisâit has something to do with Prince Seonghwa.â
At the mention of the Crown Prince, you frowned. âWhy would anything involving him concern us?â
Seoyoon leaned closer, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret. âThe relationships are a bit tangled, donât you think? The king was close to Grandfather, but he had Prince Seonghwa later in life. Meanwhile, Father had us all when he was still quite young. It makes the royal family feel less like distant rulers and more like... well, extended relatives.â
âRelatives who happen to rule the kingdom,â you muttered, shutting your book with a quiet thud. âWhat exactly are you trying to say, unnie?â
She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. âIâm saying, little sister, that perhaps this visit wasnât as routine as it seemed. Perhaps you should start paying more attention to the world outside your books. You never know what might be coming your way.â
You stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher her meaning. But when she simply rose from her seat with a graceful shrug and left the room, you couldnât help but feel a nagging sense of unease. Whatever the kingâs guards had come for, you had a sinking feeling it would disrupt the quiet life you so fiercely cherished.
When Crown Prince Seonghwa learned of the arrangements his parents had made, he stood in the vast study of the royal palace, his arms crossed behind his back as he gazed out of the towering windows. The distant sound of the bustling kingdom below barely registered in his mind.
âSo, it is the youngest daughter of the Hwang household,â he said aloud, his tone carefully neutral, though there was a faint trace of hesitation in his voice.
Queen Park, seated gracefully by the hearth, nodded with a small smile. âIndeed. Youngest of Hwang. A quiet young lady, from what I have gathered. She is much unlike her siblings, preferring solitude to society. A curious match, I admit, but one worth considering.â
Seonghwa turned to face his mother, his expression calm but his thoughts clearly at war. âThe connections between our families are... unusual, to put it plainly,â he said, his voice thoughtful. âHer grandfather, as you know, he and Father shared a bond that went beyond mere loyalty. But then thereâs her fatherâheâs younger than father, yet he married and had children before he did. My father married late and had me even later. Thatâs a strange difference in timing and position, donât you think?â
He sighed, pacing slowly as he spoke, his thoughts almost unraveling as he considered the oddities of the situation. âThe generations between us are not just tangledâtheyâre almost mismatched. Itâs a contrast of decisions, timing, and expectations thatâs hard to ignore.â
He glanced at his mother, the faintest trace of doubt in his eyes. âI understand the deep affection for the Hwang family, especially given the history with my father and her grandfather. But I wonder if that admiration has made him overlook how strange these connections really are. Itâs a lot to consider in something as important as marriage.â
The queen chuckled softly, though her gaze was steady. âYou speak as though this is of great consequence. The ties between our families have always been strong. Surely you understand why your father holds them in such high regard.â
Seonghwa exhaled, his brow furrowing slightly. He did understand. The Hwang family had been pillars of loyalty and wisdom for decades, their contributions to the crown invaluable. The late Hwang Taejin had been more than a counselor to King Parkâhe had been a brother in spirit, if not in blood. And even now, the king's fondness for the Hwang household was evident in every interaction.
Still, the prince could not shake his reservations. âI do not question their loyalty or merit,â he replied, his voice calm but firm. âBut I see little reason to entangle myself in such matters simply because of sentiment.â
âYou agreed to meet her, Seonghwa,â the queen reminded him gently. âIt would do you well to approach this with an open mind. Who knows? Perhaps you will find her company agreeable.â
Seonghwa gave a faint, almost imperceptible scoff. âAgreeable,â he echoed. âI have little need for agreeable company, Mother. What I require is a partner of intellect, strength, and understanding. If she possesses these qualities, then perhaps this meeting will not be entirely futile.â
âFate has a way of surprising us,â the queen said softly, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on her sonâs arm, her expression a mixture of hope and fondness. âGive her a chance, Seonghwa. That is all we ask of you.â
The prince nodded curtly, though his mind remained conflicted. He was no stranger to duty, but this arrangement felt... complicated. And yet, as much as he might resist, he could not entirely ignore the deep respect his father held for the Hwang family. If nothing else, he owed it to the king to see this through.
As he returned to his chambers later that evening, Seonghwa allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. Her name lingered in his thoughts, an enigma wrapped in his familyâs history. He resolved to meet her with the same quiet strength and scrutiny he approached all thingsâbut he would not let sentiment cloud his judgment.
For a man as steadfast as Seonghwa, the prospect of meeting someone new, especially under such circumstances, was a challenge. But little did he know, the meeting would test him in ways he had never anticipated.
The soft afternoon light filtered through the window beside you, casting warm patterns on the wooden floor. You were curled up in a small nook by the window, a quiet corner of the house that you had claimed as your own. The garden beyond the glass was lush and vibrant, its blooms swaying gently in the breeze. It was a peaceful sight, one you often sought solace in.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence, and you sighed quietly, already bracing yourself for the disruption. Moments later, Seoyoon and Minseok burst into the room, their faces alight with a mixture of excitement and intrigue.
âY/N,â Seoyoon began, her voice sing-song as she made her way toward you. âHave you heard what Fatherâs been planning?â
You didnât look up from your book, your tone flat as you replied, âIâm sure youâll tell me regardless of whether I have or not.â
Minseok laughed, plopping down onto a nearby chair. âSheâs as blunt as ever,â he said, shaking his head. âBut youâll want to hear this, little sister. Itâs about the royal family.â
That caught your attention, though you didnât let it show. Keeping your eyes on the page, you said evenly, âWhat about them?â
Seoyoon perched herself on the edge of the table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. âApparently, Father has been talking with the king. And do you know what theyâve decided?â
You glanced up at her, your expression unreadable. âIâm sure youâre going to enlighten me.â
âTheyâre planning for you to meet the Crown Prince,â she said, her voice dripping with glee.
You blinked, the words hanging in the air for a moment before you set your book down. âWhy?â
Minseok leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. âItâs obvious, isnât it? The king and Father have always been close. And with the prince needing a bride, it seems Father thinks you might be a good match.â
Your gaze shifted between your siblings, your mind working to process this sudden revelation. âAnd no one thought to ask me what I think about this?â
Seoyoon laughed, a melodic sound that made your irritation spike. âOh, Y/N, you always act as though you have a choice in these matters. This is about duty, about family. You should feel honored.â
âHonored,â you echoed, your tone dry. âTo be paraded in front of a man Iâve never met, all for the sake of politics? Forgive me if I fail to see the appeal.â
Minseok held up his hands in mock surrender. âWeâre just the messengers, little sister. If you have complaints, take them to Father. But I doubt itâll change anything.â
You turned your gaze back to the garden, your thoughts swirling. The idea of meeting the Crown Princeâa man whose reputation for coldness preceded himâwas far from appealing. But you knew your father well enough to know that his mind was likely already made up.
âLovely,â you muttered under your breath, picking up your book once more. âThis is exactly how I wanted to spend my time.â
Seoyoon grinned, patting your shoulder as she stood. âCheer up, Y/N. Who knows? Maybe youâll surprise yourself.â
As Seoyoon leaned in closer, her grin widening, you sighed and finally closed your book, resting it on your lap. You turned to her, your tone as dry as ever. âArenât you married, Seoyoon? Why are you here, meddling in things that donât concern you? Shouldnât you be at your own home, managing your household?â
Seoyoon gasped, placing a hand over her chest as though youâd struck her. âHow cruel, Y/N! Is this how you speak to your poor elder sister who only wants the best for you?â
âYouâre hardly poor, and your meddling is far from helpful,â you retorted, arching an eyebrow. âGo home, Seoyoon. Surely your husband must be wondering where youâve disappeared to.â
Seoyoon pouted theatrically, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. âFor your information,â she said, drawing herself up with mock dignity, âmy work at home is complete. Everything is running perfectly, and my husband is away on business for a while. So, Iâve decided to grace this house with my presence for a couple of weeks.â
You groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. âWonderful,â you muttered under your breath. âJust what we all needed.â
Minseok laughed from his seat, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. âYou should be glad, Y/N. Seoyoonâs here to keep you company. Isnât that nice?â
âThrilling,â you deadpanned, leaning back against the nook. âExactly what I wantedâunsolicited company and unsolicited plans for my life.â
Seoyoon reached out and ruffled your hair in a way that only an older sibling could get away with. âOh, come now, Y/N. Youâll thank me someday for my wisdom and guidance. Just wait and see.â
You swatted her hand away, glaring at her half-heartedly. âI highly doubt that.â
As she and Minseok shared another laugh, you sighed and picked up your book again, silently bracing yourself for the chaos her extended stay would undoubtedly bring.
The warm glow of the evening lanterns filled the dining hall as your family gathered for the evening meal. The atmosphere was lively, with Seoyoon chatting away about her plans for the week, Minseok teasing her, and your other brothers laughing at their antics. You sat quietly at your usual spot, focused on your plate, letting the noise of the room wash over you.
As the meal was nearing its end, your father cleared his throat, a sure sign that he had something important to say. The room quieted almost instantly, everyone turning their attention to him.
âI have news to share,â he began, his tone steady but carrying a weight that made your stomach sink slightly. âThe king and queen, along with the Crown Prince, will be visiting our household in three daysâ time.â
The words hung in the air for a moment before they fully registered. Your siblings exchanged surprised glances, and Seoyoonâs face lit up with excitement. You, however, frowned, your grip tightening on your utensils.
âTo what purpose?â you asked, your voice calm but edged with suspicion.
Your father met your gaze, his expression firm yet warm. âThey are coming to formally meet you, Y/N, and to discuss the arrangements for your marriage to the Crown Prince.â
The room erupted in chatterâyour brothers asking further questions, Seoyoon clapping her hands in delightâbut you felt as though the ground had shifted beneath you.
âMarriage?â you repeated, your tone sharper now. âAnd when, exactly, were you planning to inform me of this?â
Your mother, who had been quiet until now, placed a gentle hand on your fatherâs arm and smiled at you. âY/N, we knew youâd react this way, and we didnât want to burden you with unnecessary worries before everything was set.â
âUnnecessary worries?â you echoed incredulously, setting down your utensils with a clatter. âYouâre discussing my marriageâmy futureâand you didnât think I should have a say in the matter? Or even be informed before decisions were made?â
Your father waved a hand dismissively, his tone remaining calm but final. âThis is not something for you to worry about, Y/N. The king himself has chosen you, and this is a great honor for our family. Everything has been decided with the best intentions for you and for us all.â
âButââ you tried to protest, only for Seoyoon to cut in, her voice bright and eager.
âOh, Y/N, stop being so dramatic! Itâs the Crown Prince weâre talking about! What more could you possibly want?â
You shot her a glare but bit back your retort, knowing it would be futile. Looking back at your father, you tried one last time. âI only wish I had been told sooner. Surely I deserve that much.â
âY/N,â your father said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. âYou are my daughter, and as part of this family, you must trust that we have made the right choice for you. The matter is settled.â
You sank back in your chair, the weight of their words pressing down on you. Around you, the conversation quickly shifted to the preparations for the royal visit, your family buzzing with excitement. But you couldnât shake the frustration and unease bubbling within you.
You sat quietly, your appetite gone, staring down at your untouched plate as their voices grew distant in your mind. The life you cherishedâthe quiet, predictable solitudeâwas slipping away, and no one seemed to care.
The day the royals arrived, the Hwang household was bustling with activity. The servants had been working tirelessly to prepare the house, and your family was dressed in their finest attire. You stood near the back of the receiving room, watching as your parents greeted the king, queen, and the Crown Prince with warm smiles and formal bows.
When they entered, Prince Seonghwa's presence was immediately commanding. Dressed in a perfectly tailored royal suit, his sharp features and cold demeanor matched everything you had heard about him. He was polite but distant, exchanging pleasantries with your father and siblings, his tone measured and precise.
You, however, remained quiet, answering only when directly addressed, and even then, your responses were curt and to the point. The rest of your family, particularly Seoyoon, made up for your lack of enthusiasm with their excitement and chatter.
After a lengthy discussion between your father and the king about the arrangements, your mother approached you with a pointed look and said softly, âY/N, why donât you and the prince have a private conversation? Get to know each other.â
You wanted to protest, but before you could, Seoyoon nudged you forward with a teasing smile. Reluctantly, you followed the prince to the garden, where the air was cooler, and the faint scent of blooming flowers lingered.
Seonghwa walked a step ahead of you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you reached the center of the garden, he turned to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face for a moment before he spoke.
âI trust you find this arrangement agreeable?â he asked, his tone formal and detached.
You gave a polite nod. âIf it pleases my family, then it pleases me.â
He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. âThat is... an expected answer. You speak of duty rather than choice.â
âIt seems choice was never part of the discussion,â you replied evenly, your gaze meeting his without flinching.
For a moment, there was silence between you, the distant hum of conversation from the house filling the space. Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, studying you. âYou donât talk much, do you?â
You hesitated for a moment before answering. âI speak when thereâs something worth saying.â
A faint flicker of amusement crossed his face, so brief you almost missed it. âAn admirable philosophy,â he said. âThough it makes conversations rather... challenging.â
âThat depends on who Iâm speaking to,â you replied, your tone calm but not unkind.
He seemed to consider your words, his expression softening just slightly. âFair enough,â he said, his voice quieter now. âI suppose I am not accustomed to people who value silence over unnecessary chatter.â
You didnât respond immediately, instead letting the silence stretch between you. The weight of his gaze was palpable, but you refused to shrink under it. Finally, you said, âIâm sure the prince has little need for idle conversation, either.â
This time, his lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile. âPerhaps not,â he admitted. âBut I find myself curious about you, Miss Hwang. You are... different.â
You inclined your head slightly. âDifferent isnât always favorable, Your Highness.â
âNot always,â he agreed, his voice thoughtful. âBut sometimes it is necessary.â
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet garden suddenly feeling more intimate than before. You couldnât quite read the prince, his every word and movement calculated, but there was a strange sense of understanding in his tone.
Before either of you could say more, a servant appeared in the garden, bowing deeply. âYour Highness, the king has requested your presence.â
Seonghwa nodded once, then turned back to you. âUntil next time, Miss Hwang.â
You offered a polite nod in return. âYour Highness.â
As he walked away, you exhaled softly, unsure of what to make of the exchange. Something about the prince unsettled youânot in an unpleasant way, but in a way that left you wondering.
It had been a week since the royals left, and life at the Hwang household had returned to its usual rhythmâat least on the surface. Beneath the calm, preparations for your upcoming marriage were already in full swing, much to your quiet displeasure. You found solace in your little routines, but even that was short-lived.
One crisp morning, as you sat in your usual nook by the window with a book in hand, a servant hurried in with a message. âMiss, the Crown Prince has arrived. He wishes to take you on an outing.â
You froze, the words sinking in. Closing the book slowly, you looked up. âDid he say why?â
The servant hesitated. âNo, miss. But your father has already given his approval.â
Of course, you thought grimly. Rising reluctantly, you made your way to the front of the house, where the prince stood waiting. He was dressed impeccably, as always, and his expression was as composed as you remembered.
âMiss Hwang,â he greeted with a slight bow.
âYour Highness,â you replied, offering a polite nod.
âI trust you are ready?â he asked, though his tone made it clear that readiness was not optional.
With no room to argue, you stepped forward, and the two of you were soon seated in a carriage heading toward the nearby town. The ride was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wheels. You glanced out of the window, unsure of what to sayâor if you should say anything at all.
Finally, Seonghwa broke the silence. âI take it this arrangement was not your idea either.â
You turned to him, surprised by his bluntness. âNo, it wasnât. But I assume it wasnât yours, either.â
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. âYou assume correctly. It seems our families are quite determined to ensure we... bond.â
âBonding is difficult when both parties are here against their will,â you said, your tone matter-of-fact.
His smirk grew just slightly. âIndeed. Though I must admit, it is refreshing to meet someone who doesnât mask their opinions with pleasantries.â
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. âI could say the same, Your Highness. Most people would not dare admit to disliking an arrangement like this.â
âMost people are not in my position,â he replied simply.
The carriage came to a stop, and the footman opened the door. Seonghwa stepped out first, offering you his hand. Reluctantly, you took it, allowing him to help you down. The two of you stood at the entrance to the bustling town square, the lively atmosphere a stark contrast to the tense silence between you.
âThis town is known for its markets,â Seonghwa said, gesturing to the colorful stalls ahead. âI thought it might be... suitable for an outing.â
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. âWas that your idea, or your familyâs?â
He paused, his gaze steady. âDoes it matter?â
You didnât answer, instead turning your attention to the market. The two of you walked side by side, the chatter and laughter of the townsfolk filling the air. Occasionally, Seonghwa would point out a stall or comment on a vendorâs goods, but your responses were short and polite.
At one point, he stopped in front of a flower vendor, his eyes scanning the vibrant array of blooms. âDo you have a favorite flower, Miss Hwang?â
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. âNot particularly.â
He picked up a small bouquet of white lilies, studying them for a moment before handing them to the vendor. âThen allow me to choose,â he said, his tone calm but firm.
You accepted the bouquet hesitantly, unsure of what to say. The gesture felt oddly personal, and you couldnât decide whether to be flattered or annoyed.
As the outing continued, the initial stiffness between you began to easeâjust slightly. By the time the sun began to set, the carriage ride back was not as silent as before. Though your exchanges were still brief, there was a newfound understanding between you, however faint it might have been.
When you arrived back at the Hwang household, Seonghwa escorted you to the door, his expression as composed as ever. âThank you for indulging this outing, Miss Hwang. I hope it was not entirely unpleasant.â
You glanced at him, clutching the bouquet of lilies. âIt was... tolerable,â you said, a hint of dry humor in your tone.
He inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. âI shall take that as a success. Until next time.â
With that, he turned and left, leaving you standing at the door with the flowers in hand. As you watched the carriage disappear down the path, you couldnât help but wonder what the next âarrangedâ meeting would bring.
You retreated to your room, eager for solitude. You placed the bouquet of white lilies on a small table near the window, their subtle fragrance filling the air as you sat on the edge of your bed.
Moments later, your door creaked open without so much as a knock. Seoyoon stepped in, her eyes immediately landing on the bouquet. A mischievous grin spread across her face.
âWell, well,â she began, closing the door behind her. âIt seems the Crown Prince is quite the gentleman, isnât he?â
You didnât look up, reaching for the book on your bedside table. âIf youâre here to tease me, save your breath. Iâm not in the mood.â
âOh, come now,â she said, flopping onto the chair near the window and picking up one of the lilies. âA prince gives you flowers, and you sit here sulking as if it were some great tragedy. Most girls would be over the moon!â
âYouâre welcome to them if youâre so envious,â you replied dryly, flipping a page.
Seoyoon gasped theatrically, holding the lily to her chest. âHow heartless! And here I thought you might finally soften up a little. Tell me, how did it go? Did he say anything romantic? Or was it all as cold and stiff as you?â
You shot her a glare over the top of your book. âIt was... fine. He talked. I listened. Thatâs all there is to it.â
ââFine,ââ she echoed, rolling her eyes. âYouâre impossible, you know that? Most people would kill for a chance to speak with him, let alone be courted by him.â
âIâm not âmost people,ââ you replied, your voice flat.
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. âYou didnât thank him for the flowers, did you?â
Your silence was enough.
Seoyoon groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. âYouâre hopeless, truly. The least you could do is try to show some interest. Heâs the Crown Prince, for goodnessâ sake!â
Closing your book with a snap, you fixed her with a level stare. âI didnât ask for any of this, Seoyoon. I didnât ask for the flowers, the outing, or the marriage. If he wants to court someone, he can find someone who actually cares.â
Seoyoon sighed, her teasing demeanor softening slightly. âI know you didnât ask for this, Y/N. But itâs happening, whether you like it or not. You could at least give him a chance. Who knows? He might surprise you.â
You, staring at the lilies with a faint frown, replied bluntly, âHe looks like he doesnât enjoy company himself. This whole arrangement is just as forced on him as it is on me.â You paused, your voice lowering. âIâve been a burden to all of you long enough. Now, Iâll just be a burden to the royal family instead.â
Her brows knit together, and she crossed her arms, stepping closer to you. âY/N, donât say that. Youâre not a burden.â
You let out a humorless laugh, finally looking up at her. âAm I not? Everyone in this house pushes me to be someone Iâm not. To go out, to socialize, to act the part. And now, Iâm being married off to a prince who probably thinks Iâm as much of a nuisance as I think this whole situation is.â
Seoyoon crouched slightly so she could look directly into your eyes, her expression unusually serious. âYouâre not a nuisance, and youâre not a burden. Youâre just... different. And thatâs not a bad thing.â
You sighed, shaking your head. âIt doesnât matter what I think, does it? Iâm not doing this for me. Iâm doing it for Father, for the family, for appearances. Isnât that all Iâve ever done?â
Seoyoonâs lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but no words came out. She knew you were right, at least in part. Finally, she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
âI wonât pretend to understand how you feel, but I do know thisâwhatever the reason for this marriage, itâs not because youâre a burden. Youâre marrying a prince, Y/N. That means, whether you like it or not, someone sees your worth.â
You scoffed, but your gaze softened slightly. âOr they just see whatâs convenient.â
Seoyoon straightened up and shook her head with a faint smile. âYouâll see, Y/N. Maybe he doesnât look like the warmest person, but I doubt heâs as indifferent as you think. People like him donât show their cards right away.â
âOr ever,â you muttered under your breath.
âGive him a chance,â she urged one last time, heading for the door. âAnd give yourself one too.â
As the door clicked shut behind her, you turned back to the lilies, their delicate beauty contrasting sharply with the heaviness in your chest. A burden or not, the path before you had been set. All that remained now was to walk it, whether you liked it or not.
The royal wedding was a grand affair, filled with splendor and elegance that you could hardly process. The intricate decorations, the endless sea of nobles in fine clothing, and the constant hum of polite conversation all blurred together in your mind. Through it all, you remained stoic, performing each ritual with quiet precision.
Seonghwa, as expected, was composed and regal throughout, his every action calculated and perfect. Yet there was something in his demeanorâsomething almost... softer than youâd expected.
When the final ritual was completed, and the two of you were officially declared husband and wife, the grand hall erupted into applause. You stood there, holding his hand lightly as tradition demanded, your expression unreadable.
It wasnât until the two of you were seated at the head of the banquet table that Seonghwaâs façade shifted ever so slightly. Leaning closer, he asked in a low voice, âAre you comfortable, Miss Hwang?â
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. âItâs Lady Park now,â you replied, your tone calm.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. âAh, yes. My apologies. Are you comfortable... Lady Park?â
You hesitated, then nodded. âI am fine, Your Highness.â
He glanced at the feast before you, his voice quiet but insistent. âAnd the food? Is it to your liking?â
âItâs... more than sufficient,â you replied, unsure how else to respond.
For a moment, silence hung between you as you both turned your attention to the crowd of nobles mingling below. Then, out of nowhere, Seonghwa leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours. âSee that man in the green coat near the pillar?â he whispered, his tone conspiratorial.
Your eyes followed his gaze to a portly man with a large mustache. âYes?â
âThatâs Lord Baek. He prides himself on his wine collection, yet he canât tell the difference between a rare vintage and a common bottle of grape juice. Itâs quite the running joke among the court.â
You glanced at him, unsure whether to laugh or remain indifferent. âAnd youâre telling me this because...?â
âBecause,â he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, âyouâll hear him mention his wine at least three times tonight. Consider it a test of your patience.â
Despite yourself, a small smile ghosted across your lips. âNoted.â
He nodded, his expression still unreadable but his tone oddly warm. âAnd over there, by the orchestraâthatâs Lady Seo. She once petitioned the court to create a holiday celebrating her dogâs birthday.â
This time, you couldnât suppress a quiet chuckle. âYouâre joking.â
âI assure you, I am not,â he said, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. âThe petition was, of course, denied.â
As the evening progressed, Seonghwa continued his whispered commentary, pointing out various nobles and sharing tidbits about them. His tone remained calm and steady, but there was a subtle playfulness in his words that made it feel almost like a private game between the two of you.
For the first time, the weight of the occasion felt a little less suffocating. While you remained stoic, you couldnât deny that his unexpected warmth and attentiveness were... surprising.
When the banquet finally began to wind down, he leaned closer once more, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. âI know this is overwhelming, Lady Park, but if it is any consolation, youâve handled it with grace.â
You turned to him, meeting his steady gaze. âThank you, Your Highness. Though I suspect youâve handled it far more times than I ever will.â
He inclined his head slightly, his faint smile returning. âPerhaps. But it seems weâll be handling it together now.â
The weight of his words lingered as the evening drew to a close, leaving you with an unexpected sense of companionshipâhowever fragile it might have been.
The grand festivities had finally come to an end, and the palace halls grew quiet as the guests dispersed. Servants had escorted you and Seonghwa to the newly prepared royal chamber, its luxurious dĂŠcor only adding to the weight of the day.
The large room was lit softly by golden sconces and candles, the warmth of the light contrasting with the coolness of your nerves. You stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do or say, your hands fidgeting slightly with the heavy jewelry draped over you.
Seonghwa, ever composed, closed the door behind him. For a moment, he stood silently, observing you with his usual unreadable expression. Then, stepping closer, he spoke in a tone that was softer than you expected.
âMay I help you?â
You looked at him, startled. âWith...?â
He gestured toward the intricate outer layers of your wedding dress and the heavy ornaments adorning your neck and wrists. âWith this. I imagine it has been a long day for you.â
You hesitated, unsure whether to agree, but the weight of the jewelry was becoming unbearable. Finally, you gave him a small nod. âIf you wish, Your Highness.â
A faint smile ghosted across his lips as he stepped behind you. âTurn around,â he instructed gently.
You complied, feeling his presence close behind you as his hands moved to unclasp the elaborate necklace around your neck. His movements were careful, precise, as though he feared hurting you.
âThis must be heavier than it looks,â he murmured, setting the necklace aside on a nearby table.
âIt is,â you replied quietly, your voice barely audible.
He moved to the bracelets next, unfastening them with ease. âI imagine it wasnât easy to wear all this through the day.â
âIt wasnât, but I managed,â you said, your tone as stoic as ever.
âOf course you did,â he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.
Next, his hands reached for the ties of your outer gown, his fingers working deftly to loosen them. You felt the fabric lighten as he removed the outer layer, draping it neatly over a chair.
âI hope you donât mind,â he said, stepping back slightly. âIt felt inappropriate to summon a maid for this.â
You turned to face him, surprised by his consideration. âItâs fine,â you said softly, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away.
He inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes studying you for a moment. âYou must be tired. You should rest.â
âAnd you, Your Highness?â you asked, your tone polite but distant.
He smiled faintly, the expression barely reaching his eyes. âIâll manage, as I always do.â
With that, he stepped away, giving you space to prepare for bed. Though the room was large and luxurious, the atmosphere between you was quiet, almost delicate. As you finally lay down, your mind swirled with thoughts of the day, of the marriage, and of the man who had, against your expectations, shown you an unexpected gentleness.
When Seonghwa finally settled into the space beside you, he didnât say a word. Yet, the calmness in his demeanor seemed to ease some of the tension in the room. And though you still felt like strangers, for the first time, you didnât feel entirely alone.
The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. You lay on the grand bed, staring at the ornate canopy above, trying to will yourself to sleep. The day had been exhausting, yet your mind refused to settle. Beside you, Seonghwaâs steady breathing suggested he was equally restless.
Minutes passed in silence before his voice broke through the stillness, low and steady. âYouâre not asleep either, are you?â
You turned your head slightly, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. âNo,â you admitted. âToo much on my mind.â
He hummed thoughtfully. âUnderstandable. Today was... a lot, even by royal standards.â
You nodded, though he couldnât see it clearly. âDo you ever get used to it? The expectations, the attention, the... weight of it all?â
âNot entirely,â he replied honestly. âBut you learn to carry it differently over time.â
There was a pause, and then he added, âThough I imagine this is harder for you. You didnât grow up with it.â
You let out a soft sigh, your voice quieter now. âItâs overwhelming. I feel like I donât belong here.â
He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. âYouâll find your place. It may take time, but you will.â
You turned to face him, his face now more visible in the faint glow of the firelight. âWhy are you being so gentle with me?â you asked, your tone a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
His lips curved into the faintest smile, one corner quirking up. âIâm introverted, not heartless.â
The unexpected honesty in his reply caught you off guard, and for the first time that day, a small, genuine smile tugged at your lips. âFair point.â
He lay back down, his voice softer now. âI donât see the point in making this harder than it has to be. Weâre both here because of duty, not choice. But that doesnât mean we canât find a way to make it bearable.â
You considered his words, the tension in your chest easing just slightly. âI suppose that makes sense.â
After you murmured your agreement, Seonghwa shifted slightly, turning onto his side to face you. His dark eyes, steady and calm, met yours in the dim light.
âYou should sleep,â he said softly, his tone carrying a hint of finality. âItâs been a long day, and tomorrow will bring its own demands.â
You blinked at him, surprised by the subtle warmth in his voice despite his usual reserved demeanor. âI could say the same to you,â you replied, your tone quieter now.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely visible in the low light. âIâll sleep when you do. Consider it... a gesture of fairness.â
You didnât argue, though you couldnât quite bring yourself to look away from him. The firelight cast faint shadows on his face, softening the sharpness of his features. For a moment, you wondered if the man who had seemed so cold and distant all day might have more to him than you had assumed.
âGoodnight, Lady Park,â he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes lingering on yours for a beat longer than necessary before he closed them.
You hesitated, then finally replied, âGoodnight, Your Highness.â
Turning onto your back, you stared up at the canopy once more. But this time, the weight of the day felt a little lighter, and though your thoughts still swirled, the warmth of his words lingered, eventually lulling you into a restless, yet strangely comforting sleep.
The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains as you rose, the events of the previous day still weighing on your mind. After breakfast, you were introduced to your lady-in-waiting, a young woman named Eunji. She was polite and cheerful, eager to assist as she began organizing your dresses and jewelry in the royal wardrobe.
As she carefully laid out a selection of necklaces, her eyes lingered on one in particularâa delicate piece adorned with shimmering pearls and intricate goldwork.
âThis one is especially beautiful,â she said softly, almost as though she hadnât meant to voice her thoughts aloud.
You glanced at the necklace, then at her. âDo you like it?â
Her cheeks flushed as she quickly shook her head. âOh, no, My Lady. Itâs not my place toââ
You cut her off gently. âIf you like it, you can keep it.â
Eunji froze, her eyes wide. âWhat? No, My Lady, I couldnât possiblyâHis Highness would be furious if he found outââ
âHe wonât,â you interrupted, your tone calm but firm. âAnd even if he does, Iâll deal with him.â
She hesitated, wringing her hands as she looked from you to the necklace. âBut itâs too valuable... it wouldnât be right.â
You sighed lightly, picking up the necklace and placing it in her hands. âEunji, if I say itâs yours, then itâs yours. Consider it a gift.â
Her eyes filled with hesitation, but also gratitude. âMy Lady, youâre too kind...â
âI insist,â you said, giving her a faint smile. âBesides, whatâs the point of having all of this if it canât bring someone a little happiness?â
After a moment of silence, she finally nodded, her fingers curling around the necklace. âThank you, My Lady. Iâll treasure it.â
You gave her a small nod and returned to sorting through the rest of the items. Though you didnât say it aloud, her joy over something so simple felt strangely fulfilling, a brief reprieve from the unfamiliar world you now found yourself navigating.
Later that afternoon, Seonghwa approached you as you sat in the study, quietly reading through a book. His footsteps were soft, but his presence was impossible to miss. Without preamble, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of curiosity.
âI see youâve gifted something to one of the servants.â
You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. His face, as usual, betrayed little emotion, but there was no trace of anger there. âYes,â you admitted evenly. âAre you mad?â
A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. âItâs your belongings. Do whatever you wish with them.â
His words were simple, yet they carried an air of reassurance that you hadnât expected.
He paused briefly, glancing toward the window before continuing. âBy the way, I noticed youâve organized your belongings in my room quite efficiently. Impressive.â
You blinked, your calm exterior faltering just slightly. âShould I... remove them?â you asked hesitantly, unsure if he found the arrangement intrusive.
Seonghwa turned his gaze back to you, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. âNo,â he said, his tone firm but not unkind. âThis room, this houseâtheyâre yours now. You can do whatever you want here.â
For a moment, his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasnât just giving you permission to arrange your belongings; he was offering you a sense of ownership, of belonging, in a world that still felt foreign to you.
You nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. âThank you,â you murmured, returning your attention to your book, though your thoughts now lingered on his unexpected generosity.
Seonghwa didnât say anything more. He simply gave a faint nod and walked away, leaving you with a strange sense of comfort and the quiet realization that, perhaps, this new life wouldnât be as lonely as you had feared.
The days in the palace continued, a quiet routine settling between you and Seonghwa, interrupted only by the occasional royal event or meeting. You had grown accustomed to the rhythms of royal life, though the sense of unfamiliarity still lingered in the corners of your mind. The grand halls, the soft whispers of servants, the unspoken expectationsâthey all seemed so far removed from the life you had once known.
One afternoon, as you sorted through your tasks, you hesitated for a moment before turning to Seonghwa, who was seated at his desk, reading through a pile of royal documents.
âSeonghwa,â you began, your voice tentative, âI was wondering if I could have a little money. I need it for... something.â
He glanced up from his papers, his gaze sharp as always, but this time, there was a trace of something softer behind his eyes. He studied you for a moment, and then, it hit himâthe realization that you still seemed uncertain, still hesitant when it came to making decisions, even small ones.
He set down his papers, his voice quieter, almost gentle as he addressed you.
âYou still ask for permission, donât you?â he said, a subtle sadness creeping into his words.
You froze, not quite understanding what he meant. âI... I just donât want to overstep.â
Seonghwa shook his head, standing up from his desk. âThis is your house now. Itâs your life, your choices. And,â he paused, walking over to you with a soft expression, âmy money is your money. You donât need permission for anything.â
His words were simple, but they carried a weight of sincerity, as though he were explaining something basic to a child. And for a brief moment, you felt a warmth in your chestâa quiet understanding that perhaps, in his own way, Seonghwa was offering you a sense of freedom, something you had never truly known in this new world.
âYou can do whatever you want,â he continued, his voice softer now. âThe money, the house, everything. Itâs yours. Donât ask for permission again.â
You blinked at him, surprised by the softness in his tone, the genuine care that laced his words. Slowly, you nodded, the nervous tension in your shoulders easing. âThank you,â you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa gave you a small smile, one that didnât quite reach his eyes but still held a certain warmth. âYou donât need to thank me for that. Iâm just reminding you of something youâve already earned.â
You felt a strange comfort in his words, the weight of them sinking into your heart. It was a small moment, a simple exchange, but somehow it made this life, this strange new world you were trying to navigate, feel just a little more like home.
For the first time since childhood, since stepping into the palace and the unfamiliar life it held, you felt something you hadnât realized you were missing: importance. You were no longer just a piece in someone elseâs game, a mere addition to a royal family that was bound by duty and expectation. Seonghwaâs wordsâhis reminder that this house, this life, was as much yours as it was hisâhad cracked open something inside you.
Without thinking, your arms moved instinctively, wrapping tightly around him. His presence, his warmth, and the unexpected kindness of his words had unraveled something deep inside you, something you hadnât let yourself feel before: a sense of belonging.
Seonghwa froze for a moment, clearly startled by the sudden embrace. His body stiffened, unsure of how to react to the closeness, the softness in your hold. You could feel his breath catch slightly, his posture rigid as though he were trying to figure out whether to push you away or to let the moment pass. But you held on, the need to feel this sense of connection overwhelming any reservations you had.
âI... Iâm sorry,â you muttered, realizing only then that you were clinging to him, your face pressed against his chest.
For a long, tense moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt thick, as though both of you were holding your breath. Then, slowly, you felt Seonghwaâs arms move around youâhesitant at first, as though he wasnât entirely sure how to respond to the warmth of your embrace. But when he did finally wrap his arms around you, the touch was gentle, almost tender, as though he was grounding himself in this unspoken moment.
âYou donât need to apologize,â he murmured quietly into your hair, his voice low and steady. There was an unfamiliar softness in it, a rare vulnerability that he seldom allowed to show. âYouâre not a burden, you know.â
You squeezed your eyes shut, the knot in your chest loosening. His words, so simple yet so profound, made your heart flutter. You had been carrying the weight of so many expectations for so long, always trying to be what was needed, always trying to do what was right. But here, in his arms, you felt for the first time like you matteredânot for what you could offer, but for who you were.
âI just... I donât know what Iâd do without you,â you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid to speak the truth out loud. âI donât know how to navigate this life. It feels... so different.â
Seonghwaâs grip on you tightened slightly, not out of necessity but of understanding. âYouâre not alone in this, you know. Iâm here. Iâll help you find your way.â
His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You didnât need to say anything more. You simply held on, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. There were no royal expectations, no duty or obligations weighing down on you. There was just Seonghwa, just the feeling of being held, of being seen.
When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered at your sides, a hesitant gesture as if he werenât ready to completely release the closeness you had just shared. His gaze met yours, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyesâa flicker of care, an unspoken connection between the two of you that neither of you had acknowledged until now.
âYouâre important,â he said softly, his voice unwavering. âMore than you know.â
And in that moment, you loved this feeling, you believed him.
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