A day of festivities was plenty to push the earl toward utter weariness, though it would never show on his face. There was only so much entertaining of foreign and native princesses alike that a young man could handle, and his cheeks ached from polite smiles and practiced formalities. But he hadn’t forgotten his father’s words, words that were tinged with a hint of foreboding, as they often were; so much could be expected from a man who created and played at war for a living.
The common marketplace was bustling and colorful, packed to the brim with men and women and children in silks and satins that caught the light of flickering torches, freshly lit to ward away dusk’s impending dimness. Taemin, as any aristocrat might, was keen on travel, on exploring new cultures and strange customs, bringing home expensive trinkets to adorn ornate walls and fireplace mantles. But he was not such a fan of such dense crowds, mixed with nobles and commoners alike. He grew tired of the scents of Duur’s bitter teas and stifling incense, could only handle the smell of fresh earth for so long before he craved the calming aroma of a wood-burning fire. And Vessels forbid his father find him another princess to entertain. As much as he saw the benefits in marrying one, he was all too aware of how dull and stiff noble ladies could be, and princesses were the most concentrated of them all.
Though, he was not oblivious to the exceptions to this rule, to the noble and royal women who’d learned the art of being proper without being boring, of being chaste without being prudish. Certainly his sister was one, an engaging conversationalist and yet never stepping out of her place, intriguing and clever and witty without stepping on her company’s toes. Of course, that was to be expected of an Im. But she was not the only exceptional lady he’d come to know after years of living among Suryan royalty; perhaps it was her youth, her natural precociousness paired with a keen glint in her eye and sprinkled with a notable sense of duty and propriety, that kept her bright and fascinating. Though they’d spent very little time together, just the two of them, he could only imagine that hers would be the most enjoyable company.
Perhaps I am turning into an old man after all, he thought to himself with a small knowing smile, carelessly scanning another booth’s display of shiny trinkets. He purchased a few items, an elaborately carved pipe for display in the family’s smoking room, a set of shining maroon hair pins for his sister, and an intricately embroidered handkerchief for his father’s ward, handing the merchant a few coins before going on his way, .
One step into the meandering crowd lead him right into the path of a running festival goer. He steadied himself, caught the figure who’d collided with him, then immediately, and respectfully, withdrew his hands when he saw the face of the youngest Suryan princess, the precocious princess in question, staring back at him.
“Highness?” he breathed, frowning, because she looked incredibly distressed, and because, after a quick survey of the crowd, it was clear she was not anywhere near a royal escort or a chaperone of any kind. “Forgive me, but what on earth are you doing here? Are you alright?”
The shoes fitted for her were not ones made for running nor were they any good for cobbled stones. Running over the pathway that was ridden with indents of cracks had her already throbbing ankle twisting this way and that as she chased after the thief. Her body could no longer support her balance on such a weakness and she was sent crashing in another direction soon after. She could only sputter in surprise when hands reached out to catch her, grasping her sides for only a moment to steady her and then letting go. Seunghee could only imagine the figure behind her-- perhaps an old man or young kid thinking their ‘great service’ to a noble would win them some sort of reward, she knew those types and had lived around them for too long in her own kingdom and there would be no difference in Duur.
Familiar eyes had Seunghee sputtering once again, an action most unfit for royalty. Lord Taemin’s mouth formed words but she was deaf to them in her anger and surprise. She gathered her wits with speed, dusting her skirts off and angrily jaunting a finger in the way the man had run. “That thief snatched my coin purse right from my grasp, he must have mistaken me for someone who would not fight back or pursue. He has death upon him if he thinks he is to get away with this.” Her gloves light up with the flames glowing at her fingertips, unnoticed by the princess..
Only a whimper escaped her tightly pressed lips as she attempted yet another step with her injury, barrelling straight into the lord once more. “Curse these blasted boots, good for nothing--” Only then did she notice how she must look to the lord, one who was familiar to court and could let all the right people know about her little excursion . “I-...” Seunghee fought the urge to pull her lip in past her teeth to nibble, masking her face into indifference. “I only meant to look for some new books and such.”
Although it made logical sense for the lord to bid his time upon whatever he found to his liking during the festivities in Duur, it did surprise her that fate would have knocked her, quite literally, into someone she did know in such an expansive crowd. “And what, perchance, were you doing out here without a fine lady on your arm, Lord Taemin?” She asked with a trained eyebrow.
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