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summary: when you entered college, you had two rules you followed. one: keep your head down and two: no boys. it was going as planned- until you were paired with a fellow student, maki, for a project. now here you were, crushing on the cute boy that you had no business crushing on while also trying to survive being thrown into his supernatural world.
pairing: werewolf!maki x human!femalereader
warnings/tags: strangers to lovers, college romance, lots of fluff (i don't think i've ever made something this cute), slight angst, no smut (shocking i know), like one kiss (this also felt weird)
word count: 13.4k
notes: this had been in my drafts for forever. this is also one of my oldest requests! sorry for the delay. i hope you like it! i may also be working on a request that will combine that and can also be a part 2 for this... likes and reblogs appreciated!
you let out a sigh as you walk into the class that you were forced to take. you needed a history class for your degree, and this was the only one that didn't make you want to burst into tears.
folklore and myth in human culture. it sounded interesting enough when you joined. and apparently a bunch of other people thought so too because the room was packed when you walked in. you kept your head down as you walk up the steps, taking a seat at the very back.
you pull out your laptop, pulling up the class when the professor walked in. you listen to him as he introduced himself before explaining what the class was. he then got into the part you were dreading the most. your final exam- it wasn't actually an exam. it was a project that you had to do with a partner.
"this project counts for 70% of your grade. that also means if you do good on it, you can skip the rest of the class if you don't care." he earned a few laughs as he explained the project. "you also can start working on it right now if you wanted to. the quicker you get it done the better. if you all look at the syllabus, you will see the outline of the project along with the partner i have picked out for you."
you skim over the syllabus, reading what you were supposed to do before looking for your partner- the part you were least excited for. you normally did things by yourself, but seeing how big your project was, there wasn't any way you could do it by yourself and score a decent grade.
you finally find your name, blinking slowly when you saw who your partner was- maki.
you glance up, staring down towards the front of the room where you knew he was sitting. he was sitting next to a couple of his friends, spinning a pencil in his hand, hoodie discarded next to him like it wasn't near freezing outside.
you two have had some classes together previously, so you knew who he was. he was quiet popular. he was always supporting a smile and was normally surrounded by his friends.
you could tell when he found his name on the syllabus, and you quickly looked back to your laptop when he turned in his seat to look towards you. you could feel his gaze on you, and you regret the moment you look back up to meet his eyes. you watch as he smiles when he catches your attention before bidding his friends goodbye.
he quickly climbs the stairs two at a time, pushing his hair out of his face when he stops next to where you were sitting. "yn, right?"
"yeah." you respond quietly, watching as he stretches out his arm. you look at him for a second before you shake his hand. his hand was warm and almost engulfed yours before you let go, moving your bag and allowing him to sit next to you.
"looks like we're partners. i'm maki."
"i know who you are." you say bluntly before you could stop yourself. you looked towards him when he laughed.
"good to know i have a reputation already." he says. you don't mention that his reputation involves him being late to class, that is if he shows up, yet still makes a's on everything. that and every single girl seems to be in love with him, but he rejects everyone. "so, when did you want to meet up for this project?"
you don't answer at first, and maki thought you didn't hear him when you turned towards him. "it doesn't matter to me. i'm free most afternoons."
"perfect! i already have some ideas, and i think you'll love them." he responds, watching as you nod your head slowly.
"o-okay. sounds great."
the two of you sit next to each other, elbows brushing occasionally as you two take notes of the professors lecture. you could feel how warm his skin was even though your jacket, causing you to look over a few times. you though he may be ill or something, but he didn't show any signs of it, so you just brushed it off as him just being naturally hot.
once class had ended, you had started packing up your things to leave when maki turned towards you. "so you're not going to ghost me before we even start this project, right?"
you shake your head. "no. i was actually going to... give you my number."
"good." he says, smiling at you as he pulls out his phone. he unlocks it, pulling up his contacts before holding it out to you. "there you go, shortie."
you raise your brows at the nickname, but you don't show him any other reaction as you take his phone, typing out your number before handing it back to him.
"got it." he saves it before putting his phone back up. "don't be surprised if i actually use it."
"i would hope you would." you respond, watching as he chuckles softly. you realize what you said causing your face to flush. "i meant for the project."
"of course." he smiles even wider when he notices your blush. he picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder. "i'll see you later."
you went about the rest of your day, pushing maki out of your head as you did so. or at least you tried. you could still smell his cologne as it invaded your senses. you could still feel the warmth of him sitting next to you. even after you had taken a shower, settling into your small dorm room later that night.
you had just sit down at your desk, opening your laptop when your phone dinged from next to you.
you find yourself smiling at your phone, shaking your head when you realize what you were doing. you had rules that you liked to follow. you weren't going to break them for maki. you turned off your phone before continuing your homework.
the smell of coffee and baked goods hits you as you step into the warm coffee shop maki sent you to. you didn't spot maki which didn't shock you because you were early. you pick a corner table, sitting your bag down next to you before shrugging off your thick winter coat.
you had just pulled out your laptop and pulled up the guidelines for the project when you heard the door open, the cold air making you shiver. you didn't bother to look up to see who walked in, but you did when they sat in front of you. you meet maki's gaze as he slid into the chair in front of you.
"hey, shortie." he smiles at you, discarding his jacket and bag next to him.
"i have a name, you know?" you say, ignoring the small flutter from the nickname. you shouldn't like it. you don't even know this guy. you shouldn't let him have such an effect on you already.
"i know." he says with a smirk. "but shortie fits better. you're so tiny. it's cute."
you cough at his words, cheeks heating up at the compliment. you look away, ignoring his laugh as you pulled out a notebook. "so the project?"
"hold up." he stops you, taking the notebook away from you making you gawk at him. "we're not doing anything until i buy you a coffee. my treat remember?"
"and i told you that wasn't necessary." you respond as you hold out your hand for the notebook. he goes to hand it back to you, but snatches it away at the last second.
"i'm going to go get us drinks. there better not be a single word on this paper when i get back."
you roll your eyes, snatching the notebook out of his hand. "whatever you say."
he smiles as he gets up, not even asking what your order was. you thought about getting up to tell him, but by the time you thought about it, he had already ordered. you felt bad as you were normally picky about your drinks, and had a feeling you were going to hate whatever he ordered.
he walked back a few minutes later with your drinks, handing you the warm cup before sitting down. you let the cup warm your hands as you take a sip, looking down in confusion when the taste hits you. it's exactly what you normally order.
"did i do good?" you look up at maki's question, nodding your head.
"you did. it's what i normally order."
"lucky guess?" maki smiled before taking a sip of his own. you shrug, brushing it off as you sit the drink down. "you look like a caramel latte kind of girl, anyway."
"am i that predicable?" you ask. maki notices the small smile on your face, the first one he's seen on you.
"not at all, shortie. i just have a good eye when it comes to things like this."
you go to grab your pen, but it slips out of your fingers. it goes to roll off the table, but maki grabs it in mid air before it could hit the floor. he sits back up, handing the pen back to you.
you furrow your brows as you take the pen. "how did you catch that so fast?"
"fast reflexes." he responds with a laugh. "my friends always joke i'm part dog."
a small laugh escapes you. "i see it. you have a puppy aura."
"how do you think that, shortie?"
"besides the fact that you just caught that pen?" you ask with a small shrug. "i don't know. you're always smiling and happy. people tend to like you."
"are you one of them?" maki's question catches you off guard. you twirl the pen as you look down at your notebook.
"i don't you well enough." you answer, shifting in your seat. you quickly change the subject before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have. "so what's your idea that you'll think i'll love?"
"i don't think, shortie. i know you'll love it." he leans forward, resting on his hand as he studies your face. "how do you feel about wolves?"
you blinked as you looked up at him. "wolves?"
"they're everywhere." he answered. "old legends, folktales, stories from every culture. thought it'd be easy enough since there's so much information on them."
you thought about it for a second before agreeing. "wolves it is then."
he watches as you write down what exactly what you two were supposed to do for the project. you divide the work fairly between the two of you. it's only when you pause that maki speaks up again.
"are you always this quiet, shortie?" you look up at his question. he could tell you didn't like the question, so you diverted the conversation away from you.
"are you always this talkative?"
"only when someone's worth talking to." maki responds without missing a beat. you rub your face, clearly flustered at his words. he laughs as he takes a sip of his drink. "how's that impression coming?"
"this is going to be a long project."
"guess you're stuck with me then."
the two of you continue to work on your project until you two called it a day with plans to meet up at the library the next day, thought the two of you didn't get much done. you could barely work for more than 5 minutes before maki stopped you. he asked you question after question about yourself.
normally, this would annoy you. it was why you liked to work by yourself, but for some reason, his questions didn't bother you. you found yourself willing to answer him. you also found yourself waiting for them when you realized his pattern.
that pattern continued throughout the next day through texts. your responses became longer and longer as you opened up to him. you knew it made him happy because he voiced it multiple times, saying that your impression must be good because you weren't ignoring him.
you make your way from your dorm to the library, pulling your coat tighter around you as you walked. you once again expected to beat him because you were early, but you were surprised when you saw him leaning against the front of the library in nothing but a thin hoodie, a pair of headphones over his ears.
he looked up when you stopped in front of him, smiling as he took off the headphones. "you're early, shortie."
"don't sound so shocked." you respond.
"i'm not shocked. you just don't seem like the person who likes team projects." he tells you.
you shrug in agreement. "it's normally too much of a hassle."
"what about me?" he asks, making you roll your eyes, acting annoyed when you were far from it.
"i said normally, didn't i?" you question, shocking him. you shiver, pulling your jacket tighter as you walk towards the door, maki falling into step beside you.
"i don't see how you're standing out here. it's freezing."
"i'm just naturally hot." he answers, holding the door open. "i've always been like that. my mom hates it. when i was a kid, i always wore summer clothes all year round, even when it was freezing. how about you, shortie?"
"i'm the exact opposite. always cold." you answer, following him to the very back corner of the library where all of his stuff was already laid out. "did you have to pick the furthest corner of the library?"
maki shrugged as he sat down. "i like privacy, and there's a less chance of people eavesdropping when i'm saying genius things."
"i think you mean nonsense." you joked, watching as maki tries to hold back his laugh but fails. at least you two were far away so no one heard him when he laughed.
"okay, jokester. time to get down to business." he says after he recovers, motioning to his notes. "wolf myths. i found some stuff about how different cultures see them. most describe them as either protectors or monsters. depends on who's telling the story."
you nodded as you pulled your notes out of your bag. "i found a couple too. most of mine described them as loyal and territorial."
"you're right." he said making you look up at him. he was scribbling something down, almost not even aware he was talking. "they don't like outsiders near what's theirs."
it wasn't the words that caught your attention but the way he said them did. like he knew the feeling of what he was talking about. it made no sense to you as you looked back down at your notes.
"you sound like you're speaking from experience."
"maybe i am." he says with a small laugh. "i mean, we've only hung out twice, and you've called me a dog."
you gasp as you look up. "i did not! i said you had a puppy aura."
"same thing."
you take your pen and throw it at him, laughing when he dodges it. "just for that, you're a mutt."
he laughed as he grabbed your pen, handing it back to you. "that's a high compliment coming from you, shortie."
the two of you continue to work on your project for another hour or so. you stopped when you noted that the sun was about to set and people started packing up their things.
"i should head back." you tell him as you move to pack up your things. you put on your coat as maki leans back, watching you.
"are you walking alone?" you nodded your head at his question as you stand up.
"yeah, my dorm is just across campus."
he hesitated, making you stop in your tracks. you wait for him to say what was on his mind. "you should be careful walking back at night."
"why?" you shrug. "i do it all the time."
"this campus gets sketchy after dark." he answers. you didn't like his answer, but you chose to brush it off as you throw your bag over your shoulder.
"you sound like my ra." he didn't answer you, just staring out of the window that was next to your table. "if you're so worried, why don't you walk me back?"
you were teasing him, not thinking he would accept your offer, but you felt your face heat up the second the words came out of your mouth. maki didn't notice though, looking at you with a large smile, his mood instantly changing from whatever it was before to back to normal.
"sure, shortie."
"huh?"
he moved, standing up before grabbing his things. "let's go. i can't have my partner getting mauled by raccoons or something."
"i was joking, maki." you said, making maki turn and look at you.
"who said i was?" you roll your eyes, but you follow after him anyway. you jerk as you step outside, feeling as the temperature had dropped even more. you pull your jacket tighter, moving to pull up your hood when maki stopped you. "here. take this."
he digs in his bag, pulling out a beanie before handing it to you. you stare at it for a second before looking up at him. "are you sure you don't need it?"
"no. warm blooded, remember?" he smiles, moving to put the beanie on your head for you. your face flushes as his warm hands touch your cheeks as he pulls the beanie down. "there you go. can't have my partner getting sick."
"thank you."
maki shoved his hands in his pockets as the two of you walked back towards your dorm. you could feel the warmth radiating off him when his arms brushed against yours. "are you going to go back to being quiet on me shortie?"
you let out a small laugh. "i don't need to talk when you do enough talking for the both of us."
"fair enough." he laughed, bumping into your shoulder purposely. "do you always walk alone this late?"
"usually." you shrug. "but campus is pretty safe, so it doesn't bother me."
"pretty safe." he repeated with raised brows.
you look over when you hear him. you could clearly tell he doesn't believe you. "you're weirdly paranoid for someone who looks like they could take down a linebacker."
"take down a linebacker?" he says with a laugh. "you think i could take down a linebacker?"
"you sound like you want me to say yes so bad." you say, smiling when he nudges you again.
"not denying it."
you opened your mouth, about to say something when you noticed he had stopped walking. his head was turned to the right, looking at the trees on the other side of the small lake that you were walking by. you noticed the small shift in his posture, and it kind of freaked you out if you were honest.
"maki?" you question. his eyes quickly snapped to yours. "what wrong?"
he shook his head, moving back to your side. "nothing. i think it was a squirrel."
you didn't believe him, but you didn't push him even further, remembering that he was still a stranger to you. if he didn't want to tell he, he didn't have to. the two of you were silent as you walk the rest of the way to your dorm, stopping when you reach the steps.
"thanks for walking me."
"anytime, shortie." he responds with a smile. you could tell he wanted to say something else, but he didn't.
"i'll see you tomorrow in class?"
"wouldn't miss it."
the next day, you were walking towards your shared class with maki when you heard someone call your name. you turned with wide eyes as one of the other guys in your class, josh, ran up to catch up with you. you hadn't ever spoken to him before, so you couldn't imagine why he wanted to talk to you. he was like maki- popular around campus.
"hey, yn. you heading to class?" he said as he stopped in front of you.
you nod your head. "i would assume so. it starts in like 10 minutes."
he laughed at you, though you didn't think your words were funny. "you're cute."
"thanks." you give him a small smile. to say you were uncomfortable would be an understatement. it was weird that he came up to you and called you cute despite never talking before. it was even weirder that your mind immediately went to maki calling you cute, and how you felt now felt like nothing compared to then.
"so i was wondering if you wanted to grab some coffee sometime?" he asked with a grin. "there's this new cafe that just opened right off campus. figured it would be nice to talk outside of class."
his ask stunned you. "oh, um..."
"come on, yn." he encouraged, stepping closer to you. "it's just coffee. you need to take a break from school sometimes. it's not good for you."
you cleared your throat as you take a step back from him. "i'm sorry, josh, but i'm not interested."
"you got a boyfriend or something?" you roll your eyes at the question because of course that's the only logical reason a girl would reject a guy.
"no."
"then what's the issue?" you take another step away from him, about two seconds from walking away from him. you didn't owe him any reason for rejecting him.
"the issue is i'm not interested." you repeated, a little more forceful than last time.
you watch as josh open's his mouth to question you further but stops, glancing behind you. you didn't even have time to turn around before someone stopped next to you. and you didn't even need to look up to know who it was- maki.
"didn't peg you for the desperation type, josh." you look up at maki's words. his sharp glare was locked on josh, who was already glaring at maki. everyone knew that the two didn't get along, and you just so happened to get in the middle of it this time.
"just being friendly. isn't that right, yn?" josh asked. but since he didn't even bother to look at you, you didn't bother to respond, causing maki to chuckle.
"looked a little like begging from where i was standing." despite everything that happened, you shot maki a warning look. he looked down, finally meeting your gaze. he smiled at you despite the anger you knew he was feeling. "you okay, shortie?"
"didn't realize you were keeping tabs now, maki." josh responded, confusing you. you look between the two. what was that supposed to mean?
"someone's gotta make sure she doesn't get ambush her on the way to class." maki answered, placing his arm over your shoulder. you nearly lose your balance when he pulls you into his side, keeping you close to him.
josh scoffed, now glaring at the two of you. "whatever."
you watched him walk away before looking back at maki. "was that necessary?"
"was what necessary, shortie?" he asked, back to his normal self now that josh was gone.
"humiliating him."
maki shrugged. "he'll live. besides, he deserved it. you said no. he didn't listen."
"you're ridiculous."
"maybe, but at least i'm right." he answered. "now, let's get to class before i pick another fight."
he kept his arm around you as the two of you started to walk to class. you almost brushed him off but stopped when you felt his body warmth through your jacket. and you were cold, so you stayed close to him.
you pulled away from him when you got to the classroom before going to sit in your normal seat. you fully expected maki to sit in his normal spot next to his friends, but he didn't. he stayed behind you, sitting next to you.
class started without a hitch, but you couldn't bring yourself to pay attention. the professor's words went in one ear and out the other. maybe it was because you caught josh's gaze one too many times for it to be a coincidence. maybe it was the way maki had his arm thrown across the back of your chair.
you met josh's gaze again causing you to shift in your seat as you look back down at your poor attempt to take notes. maki notices, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "you okay?"
"yeah. why?"
"because you never answered me the first time i asked."
you look up, meeting his gaze. "it's not like i got a chance during your glaring match with josh."
"he deserved it." maki said, sticking to his defense. "he was pushing you. you said no. that should've been enough."
you looked away for a moment. "how did you even know we were talking."
"good ears." he responds, looking over at you when you chuckle.
"maybe your friends are right, and you are part dog."
maki covers his laugh with a cough, avoiding getting scolded by your professor. he leans over to whisper to you when he stopped. you followed his gaze to see that josh was staring at the two of you again, glaring when he saw maki's gaze before turning back to his notes. "can you do me a favor, shortie?"
"depends."
"be careful around him." maki responds. "he's not who you think he is."
"what does that mean?" you question.
maki went to answer when he was called on to answer a question from the professor. he looked away from you, answering the question perfectly. by the time he was done, he turned back to his notes, so you did to.
it was clear he didn't want to answer it, and maybe a part of you didn't want him to either. you and him were still strangers. you didn't have any right asking why the two didn't get along. it wasn't any of your business. though his words stuck in your head. especially when you got up to leave, catching josh watching you as you left.
after that, josh backed off for the most part. sure, you still saw him on campus, but he'd only nod at you before moving on. you just figured everything had went back to normal. him ignoring your existence, and you living peacefully not being in the middle of him and maki ever again.
maki, on the other hand, seemed to think of every excuse imaginable to not leave you alone. it started out with your project meetings lasting longer than they used to, going from one hour to even two or three. the two of you getting sidetracked talking about everything except your project. you two traded playlists, complained about schoolwork, and even had an argument about whether dogs or cats or superior.
"obviously dogs." maki answered. "besides, you did call me one after all."
somewhere along the way, you two got closer. the two of you now sitting next to each other and not on opposites sides of the table. his arm stayed draped on the back of your chair, sometimes even draping his arm over your shoulders. you realized how close you had gotten when you two reached for one of the books at the same time causing your fingers to brush. he didn't pull away, and neither did you.
"guess we've got good taste, shortie."
and lets not forget the fact that he walks you home after every session since they've been running later. every time, you tell him it wasn't necessary, but he always brushes you off.
today was one of the off days that you and maki didn't meet up, but he still kept up with you by text. you had mentioned that you started watching a new tv show, and he started watching it as well. so the two of you were comparing theories the better part of the afternoon.
you had just stepped out of the dining hall, starting to walk back to your dorm when it started sprinkling. you groaned, pulling up your hood over your headphones. you kept your eyes down, avoiding puddles that were forming when you bumped into someone. you lost your balance, almost falling when they grabbed you.
once you recovered, you pulled away, moving your headphones as you looked up. "oh, hey josh. sorry about that."
"it's fine." he smiled. you moved back, going to step around him when he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "why are you leaving so fast?"
"because it's raining, and i don't want to get wet." you answer, glancing down at your wrist that he has yet to let go of yet.
"i can drive you back to your dorm if you want. my car's right there." he motioned behind him to the parking lot.
you shake your head, trying to get out of his grip but was unsuccessful. "no thanks. can you let me go now?"
"what's up with you and maki?" he asks, ignoring you completely.
"we're friends. not that it's any of your business." you say, snapping your hand away from him. it doesn't work leading him to tighten his grip on your wrist. "let me go, josh."
"he's a friend who keeps a possessive arm around you during class. a friend who chased me down and threatened me to stay away from you." he points out, getting more agitated as he spoke. "i don't think you should be friends with people like that."
you gulp, feeling scared as you became completely aware of your surroundings. you were alone with him, and it was dark. it was also a friday afternoon so most people had either went home for the evening or were out partying. you were like 3 blocks away from your dorm, and you doubt you could outrun him since you couldn't even get him to let go of your wrist.
"i- i want you to let me go and leave me alone."
"what nonsese has he told you about me, huh?" you flinch as he raises his voice. "you know, he's not the saint like everyone thinks. you don't even know who he is. what he is."
after every word, he raised his voice until he was almost yelling at you. his grip tightened, causing your hand started to go numb. your claw at his hand. "josh, you're hurting me."
his nails dug into your skin. you felt the sudden sting of something slicing across your skin. you glance down to see drops of blood dropping from your hand. "josh-"
you looked up, words catching in your throat at the sight of him. his face was shifted into something you didn't recognize. his eyes were narrowed on you, flecks of gold shining through the brown of his eyes. his teeth looked sharper, peaking out through his parted lips.
"josh?" you jumped back, forgetting the pain in your wrist when you heard a sound come from him. it was low, almost sounding like a growl.
"let her go." you jump at the sound of another voice coming from behind you. you were worried for a moment, until you recognized the voice as maki's. you hear his footsteps before he's standing beside you. josh doesn't listen and keeps his grip on your wrist. "do i need to repeat myself?"
maki grabs the wrist that is holding you, twisting it sharply. josh screams out in pain as he lets out go. maki pushes him away from you as you step back from him, hiding behind maki.
"leave."
you glance over his shoulder, watching as josh leaves with his wrist clutched to his chest. you look up at maki when he turns to look at you, his nose twitching before he looks you over.
"where are you bleeding?" you furrow your eyebrows at his question. how did he know that? you held up your arm to show him the small scratch on your wrist.
"i'm guessing his nails cut me." you shrug, pulling you sleeve down before dropping your wrist. you debated on asking maki if he saw what you saw but decided not to. maybe it was your fears playing tricks on you. "thank you for that."
"of course, shortie." he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes like it normally does. "now lets get you back to your dorm, so i can clean up your wrist."
"you don't have to." you tell him as the two of you start walking causing maki to bump your shoulder.
"i know. i want to."
you look away as a blush crosses your cheeks. you felt his hand brush against yours like he wanted to hold it, but before anything happened, maki was yanked backwards. you let out a yell when josh hit him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. you ran over to maki as he hit the ground.
"maki!" you shake his shoulders, but he doesn't stir. "maki, wake up!"
"he can't save you now." you look back up at josh. his eyes were still glowing, so it wasn't a figure of your imagination. you took one last glace at maki, silently apologizing before running away. you hear josh laugh. "how did you know wolves love to chase?"
you didn't have time to question it as you ran back towards your dorm. your lungs screamed in pain, but you kept pushing. you were almost there when an arm wrapped around your waist. you feel the wind get knocked out of you as your body slams into a tree. you try to catch your breath, but couldn't due to the glowing gold eyes staring down at you.
"you know..." you flinch as josh's hand grips your chin. "this wouldn't have happened if you had just said yes."
"fuck you." you grit, yelping when josh slams you into the tree again. you try to pull away when he leans down, but his grip won't let you. his breath brushes against your cheeks for a second before he was ripped away from you.
you nearly fall over now that josh wasn't holding on to you. you look over to see maki on top of him, hitting him repeatedly. he quickly knocked josh unconscious and didn't show any signs of stopping his attack. you look around to see if you could find someone to help you, but you didn't see anyone.
"maki!" you keep your distance as you raise your voice. you see his raised arm stutter in the air before he drops it. he gets off of josh, keeping his back to you. you look at josh for a second waiting to see the rise and fall of his chest before looking back at maki.
"maki?" you question, taking a step towards him. you stop dead in your tracks when he looks at you. his eyes were glowing yellow just like josh's did. "your... your eyes."
at your words, his eyes quickly returned to their normal brown color. "yn, please let me explain."
you shake your head, stepping back when he tries to get close to you. there was too much going on around you. you felt like you were going to be sick. you knew that maki wouldn't hurt you, but right now, you couldn't see past what had just happened. just that his eyes were the same as josh's, and josh just attacked you.
before he could try to stop you, you turned around, running back to your dorm. this time you made it without being stopped, and you didn't stop until your back was against the door to your room. your hands shook as you locked the door, tears blurring your vision as you back slid down the door.
your hand pressed against your chest as you tried to slow your breathing. you couldn't even began to comprehend what just happened, jumping when your phone buzzed from your pocket. you took it out, eyes locked on the screen as you watch as maki's text come through, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer him. it wasn't until his last text came through where he was begging you to respond to him.
you throw your phone on the floor right next to you when something catches your eyes. the dried blood on your hand. it was then you remembered josh hurting you. the cut was small, but you still got it cleaned up before bandaging it.
what were they? you knew neither josh nor maki were human- the glowing eyes and sharp teeth proved it. and the fact that josh's nails were able to draw blood so easily didn't make any sense to you. you didn't want to believe that any of this just happened. you wanted to believe that it was some sort of nightmare. that when you went to sleep, you would wake up knowing that everything was a dream.
but it wasn't.
when you woke up after a night of actual nightmares of what happened, along with the wound on your wrist, you knew that it wasn't a dream.
you tried to focus on normal things. homework. cleaning your dorm. anything to get your mind off last night. every time you stopped, your mind wandered back to it, hand nearly reaching for your phone to call maki. you wanted answers, but you also wanted space. you just couldn't figure out what you wanted more.
you glance out the window, watching the rain pound onto the window. the sun had set a couple of hours ago, leaving you practically alone on campus since it was a saturday night.
you stood up, abandoning your work as you look out the window. like you though, there wasn't a single person outside, or so you thought. you turned to go back to your work when something caught your eye. some movement by the trees next to your dorm.
at first you thought it was nothing, but you saw it again. a dark shadow before two eyes appeared from the darkness. they looked just like josh's glowing amber eyes causing you to stumble back, nearly tripping on your rug.
you shut the curtains before finding your phone, pulling up maki's contact. screw the space you asked for. you jumped in place as you listened to it ring. he picked up on the second ring. "shortie? are you okay?"
"maki, there's someone outside." you heard shuffling on his end before hearing a door slam.
"where?"
"by the tree line."
"i'm on my way." you let out a sigh of relief at his words. "stay away from the window. is your door locked?"
"yes." you answered. "please hurry."
"i won't let anyone hurt you, shortie. i promise." he said before hanging up. you kept your phone clutched in your hand, chest tightening at his promise despite the situation you were in.
it didn't take him but a few minutes to get there from wherever he was. you jumped when someone knocked on your door, panicking before you heard maki call your name. you unlock the door before opening it.
his chest was heaving like he had ran here, rain dripping from his hair. his eyes met yours as he slipped into your room, locking the door behind him. you stood there, watching as he scans your room before looking out your window. once he was sure there wasn't anything near you, he turned back to look at you.
"i don't see him, but you're okay. i'm here now." you nod your head at his words. he then sees your hands clutched tightly around your body as they shook. your eyes locked onto the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. he didn't hesitate to walk over and pull you into his arms. you stiffened for just a moment before relaxing into his arms, resting your head on his chest. "i won't let anything happen to you. you're safe with me."
"was it him?" you question.
"i ran straight here, so i'm not sure. i have a friend checking it out." he answered. your face flushes at the thought of him running here in the pouring rain just to make sure you were okay.
you don't know how long you stayed wrapped in maki's arms, but the moment was ruined when you heard someone knock on the door. you jumped, feeling as maki's arms tightened around you before he recognized who it was. he stepped away from you, and it took everything in you to not dive back into his arms.
"it's okay, shortie. it's just fuma. he's the friend i was talking about." maki assured you before he went to the door. once he unlocked it, he opened it just enough for fuma to slip inside before locking it again.
fuma was completely unfamiliar to you. his size was similar to maki's, but he was older, more serious than the boy next to you. his dark eyes met yours, and his head dipped as he gave you a soft smile before looking to maki. "tracks end at the trees. whoever it was is gone."
"they were close enough to see her."
fuma's gaze flicked to you again, noticing how close maki stood to you, protecting you. "then it wasn't random."
"do you think it was josh?" you ask maki. his features darken at even the thought of him watching you.
"maybe. or someone from his pack."
your brows furrowed at the word pack, but you didn't have time to question it because fuma spoke up. "we'll figure it out. in the meantime, stay here with her for tonight. don't let her out of your sight."
"wait- what?" you question, looking between the two. he expected you to just let maki stay here and watch over you?
maki looked down at you with a pleading expression. "just for tonight. please."
"fine." you grumbled, not sounding happy at the idea. fuma gave you one last glance before moving to the door.
"don't keep her up to late, lover boy."
maki glared, but by the time he looked at fuma, he was already gone. he moved to lock the door, and when he turned around, he spotted you by the window. you peak through the closed curtains, eyes going straight to where whoever that was standing there before. you didn't see anything or anyone, so you closed the curtains before moving to sit on the bed.
"you want to tell me what the hell's going on?" you look at maki who looked like he fully expected that question, but he also looked like he didn't want to answer it.
"do you really want to know?"
you nodded. "please tell me the truth."
"josh and i... we're not human. not completely at least." he answered, watching as you nod your head.
"i kind of figured that part out. the glowing eyes really gave it away." maki huffed at your words, not expecting your joke. "so what are you?"
"werewolf." he answered honestly. he watched your reaction. it was almost like you didn't want to believe it, even though you had seen it multiple times at this point. "we hide it, or at least we try to. humans aren't supposed to know about us, but josh lost control last night."
you let out a laugh of disbelief. "what did you just drag me into, maki?"
"i'm sorry, shortie. you were never supposed to find out. i tried to keep them away from you." maki apologized as he sat at your desk that was right by your window. "i didn't think they would go after you."
"and who is they?" you ask.
"josh's pack." he answered. the two of you had done enough research about wolves for you project that you knew what a pack was. "they're different from my pack. they're not the biggest fan of humans who find out about us. even if it's against the rules."
that caught your attention. "so you mean to tell me josh screwed up, and now his pack is after me? what are they going to do?"
"nothing." his answer was immediate. "they're not going to lay a hand on you. i promise."
"how are you so sure about that?"
"not only would they have to go through me, but now they're dealing with my pack." he tells you. "they'll protect you. just like how i'm going to."
you nod, coming to terms with that. it was then that a thought hit you. "guess you really are part dog, huh?"
"i kind of walked into that one, didn't i?" maki asked with a laugh. you responded to a laugh of your own before fighting a yawn. you're lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. maki stood up, turning off the lights before he shifted his seat, so he could watch both the door and the window. "get some sleep, shortie. you're safe with me."
you didn't argue, shifting under your bedding. you thought it would be weird having someone in your room watching over you while you tried to sleep, but it wasn't. maybe because it was maki. all you know is you didn't have a single nightmare like the previous night and slept peacefully knowing you were safe. because even though maki was a supernatural creature that shouldn't exist, he made you feel safer than anyone else ever has.
the next week were not only a big adjustment for you, but for maki's pack as well. apparently josh's pack went into hiding which put them all on edge, and since you were the last person who they tried to go after, that also put you on edge. that also meant that you had someone from his pack following you when maki wasn't around- mostly fuma. you had only met fuma and one other member, k.
when he was around, which he was more often that not, he was glued to your side. he did try to keep things as normal as they could possible be between the two of you, but you could tell he was always alert. the other day he heard a sound behind one of the bookshelves at the library, and he nearly scared the life out a freshman when he went to check it out. you almost thought it was a little excessive, but through the bits of information maki has given you about them along with what you've asked, you realized you were wrong.
you were walking back to your dorm. you would say you were alone, but you knew fuma was following you, having seen him when you exited your last class of the day. you knew he wouldn't follow you into your building. you knew this because you asked him one time if he wanted to come in because it was freezing, and he said no. well, he said he didn't feeling like dealing with the fit maki would throw, but you took that as being the same thing.
you had just made it to your room, unlocking the door when you noticed something making you stop. someone had been in your room. your things had been ransacked and thrown everywhere. you felt a chill, looking over to see that your window was left open.
you take a step back, going to leave and run downstairs to grab fuma when you backed into a chest. you nearly scream before turning around, but let out a sigh of relief when you realize that it was fuma.
"my god fuma. you couldn't have said that it was you?" you try to calm your racing heart.
"sorry." he mumbled. "i saw the open window and came running."
fuma slid past you, careful not to step on any of your things as he examines the room. whoever it was didn't leave any sign of who they were, leading fuma to close your window before turning to you.
"maki said that you guys can tell who people are based on their scent. can you tell who it was?" you ask as you step into the room.
"i don't recognize the scent, but it's probably someone from josh's pack." he says as he pulls out his phone. "pack some things. you're staying with us until we get this figured out."
you didn't have any chance to argue before fuma walked out of your room. you did what he said, packing your things when you heard the door open again. you didn't bother looking, figuring that it was fuma again.
"maki's going to meet us back at our place." you nod at fuma's words but don't respond. this was getting to be too much for you. last week, you knew nothing about any of this. you were just trying to get through your project with maki without getting any feelings for him. now, you trying not to get attack by supernatural creatures that shouldn't exist while still trying not to fall for maki- though you were pretty sure you had already failed the second part. "yn, are you okay?"
you stop for a moment before glancing at him. "i'm as okay as i can be, i guess. it's not everyday you get thrown into things that belong in books."
"you're handling this well for a human. i thought you would've had a breakdown by now."
you laugh at his blunt words as you finish packing. "oh just wait. i'm sure it'll hit me eventually."
"just make sure maki's around to comfort you." he tells you, making you scoff as you head towards him with your bag. he instantly takes it from you before the two of you leave your room.
you stayed quiet the entire way to their 'pack house' as maki calls it. you didn't know what to expect. you had only formally met three of the pack if you included maki. that still left six others that you haven't met before. you didn't like that you were intruding into their space knowing what you do about wolves, but fuma didn't give you much of a choice.
you step out of the car, following fuma as the two of you walked up the driveway. it was a nice house, something you couldn't even think about living in. you couldn't even bring yourself to ask how they afforded something like this before fuma opened the door for you. you slid in behind him. you heard faint talking before hearing the sound of maki's voice.
he turned the corner, eyes instantly finding yours before he rushed to your side. just him standing next to you was enough to calm you enough to not freak out over what was happening. "are you okay?"
"i guess." you answer, stepping into his side when you notice that two other people had joined. he looked at you before glancing behind him.
"guys, this is yn." he introduced you. "shortie, this is nicholas and ej. ej helps run the pack with fuma."
"nice to meet you." you said, continuing to stick close to maki when they stepped forward. the shorter one, nicholas, smiled at you before nodding to maki.
"it's nice to finally see who this kid hasn't shut up about."
"really dude?" maki groaned in embarrassment. you felt your face blush as you let out a small laugh. at least you weren't the only one affected.
"it's nice to meet you, yn." ej said with a smile. "i'm sorry that this has happened to you, but we're doing everything we can to fix it."
"what happened?" nicholas asked the two of you.
"someone broke into her place." fuma answered. "came in through her window. i didn't recognize the scent."
"i wonder if you could bring the others. see if they recognize it." ej thought before turning to you. "would that be okay, yn?"
you shrug. "do what you have to do."
"maki, why don't you help yn get settled?" maki nodded at ej's request.
"come on, shortie." maki said, grabbing the bag from fuma before grabbing your hand. you glance down as his very warm and large hand almost engulfs yours. "you're staying in my room."
"where will you stay?"
"in there with you. i'm not letting you out of my sight anytime soon, shortie, so you better get used to this handsome face." you laugh at him as he leads you down the hallway. "i have a couch that i'll sleep on, so you can have the bed. and no arguments about that."
you close your mouth because he knew exactly what you were going to say. maki laughs at your expression as he opens the door to his room, letting you go first. it was a typical boy's style room, random decorations that didn't go together and clothes lying on the floor.
"sorry about the mess." he apologized as he set your bag down. "i wasn't expecting company."
"and i wasn't expecting to have someone break into my place, but here we are." you mumble as you sit on the couch, unsure on what to do or even how to act. how were you supposed to act?
maki could tell that you were freaking out. he walked over to sit next to you, reaching over to wrap his arm around you. "hey. i know this is a lot, and i'm sorry that you were dragged into this. but i will figure this out. i promise."
you blink back tears, trying to not cry in front of him, but it didn't work. he let out what sounded like a pained sigh before pulling you into his arms. he could hear your quiet cries as you clung to him as he tried to comfort you with his words, but the angle you two were at was kind of awkward. he didn't think twice before sliding his arm under your leg and lifting you into his lap. he felt your breath hitch, but you didn't show any signs of discomfort causing maki to pull you closer.
"i'm not going to let anything happen to you, shortie." he mumbled against your hair. "i promise."
"i know. i trust you." you lifted your head for a second, pressing a short kiss to his cheek, shocking him.
you didn't know how long you stayed in lap, wrapped in his arms. it was long enough for you to fall asleep and for it to be dark outside. you would think that he would've set you on the bed and not hold you the entire time, but when you looked up, you noticed that he was asleep as well.
you let your eyes trail along his face, taking in his features. the feelings you were trying to convince yourself not to have were fully making itself known, but you knew he wouldn't feel them same. you two were completely different. you were quiet, and he was loud. he loved being around people while that made you anxious. you knew he was only trying to comfort you from the mess he dragged you in. so once this was over, the two of you would complete your project and go your separate ways, though you really didn't want that.
a knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. maki's arms tightened around you as he heard the sound, pulling you closer to his chest before he realized what it was. he loosened his arms to let you climb out of his lap. "did you sleep well shortie?"
you could hear the teasing in his tone making you roll your eyes. "i could ask you the same thing. you have a little drool right here."
"i do not." he argued as he stood up, but you laughed when you saw him wipe at the spot you pointed at before opening the door. you recognized k. "what's up? did you find anything?"
"not yet." k answered as he stepped into the room, smiling when he saw you. "you're just the person i wanted to see. ej said that we could go to your place to see if we could figure out who broke in. we need the keys."
"yeah, that's fine." you answered, standing up before walking to grab your keys for him. "here you go."
"perfect. i'll let you know when we find something. just stay low until we do, okay." he told you before turning to maki. "and i'm sure you know what your job is."
maki glared at him when k mumbled something only the two of them could hear. maki grabbed him by the arm before shoving him out of the room. you could hear him laughing as maki slammed the door in his face before turning to you.
"you hungry?"
and so began your stay with maki and his pack. you did eventually end up meeting all 9 of them, and even though they were all nice, you tended to stay close to maki- not that he let you far out of his sight anyway. the only time you were by yourself was when you had other classes, and even then you got messages from maki every 10 minutes asking if you were okay. and by the time you left the room, he was waiting for right outside of your class.
you thought it would be annoying seeing now that you were staying with him you now didn't have any alone time, but it didn't. maybe it was your stupid feelings getting in the way, but the more time you two spent together, the harder it was for you to be away from him. it brought you back to the hard thought of what you were going to do when all of this was over. you thought you had time to figure that out and get used to that idea, but you didn't.
you had just left your last class of the day when you noticed maki tuck into the corner talking to fuma. they looked like they were arguing over something. you didn't want to bother them anymore than you already were, so you walked down the hallway to the bathroom.
you had just made it to the sink when you heard the door lock. you looked up when you noticed a shadow behind you, making you jump, but before you could scream for maki, they had their hand over your mouth.
"shh. we don't need to make this any harder than it needs to be. i just want to talk." you look in the mirror to see that it was josh, a large black hoodie covering most of his face. "i'm going to talk my hand off, and we're going to talk like normal people. okay?"
you slowly nod your head, not knowing what else to do. he smiled as he pulled his hand away, watching as you shove him away- getting as much distance as you could from him. "what do you want?"
"to apologize for attacking you." he says. "i had just had an argument with my pack and was mad, and i took that out on you."
"do you expect me to believe that?" you ask making him shrug.
"i know you're still new to this whole wolf thing, but you need to know that my pack and maki's pack are completely different. my alpha tends to be more animal than human, and i'm one of the more level headed members which is why i'm here."
you step back again when he tries to get closer to you. "why are you here?"
"to show you what you're causing." he answered. "you are going to get maki killed by being around him."
"what?"
he pulls out his phone, showing you the live stream they have of the pack house. "we've been watching for the past week. we know who drives what. who sleeps where. they wanted to attack soon, but i convinced them not to."
you feel your hands start to shake as he tells you this. "how?"
"if i can convince you to leave completely without telling them, we'll leave both them and you alone. if not, i send a text right now and they attack the pack house." he explains.
"you want me to leave?" you ask, watching as he nods his head. "and if i don't."
"then we tear his world apart, and i'll make sure you're close enough to watch me kill all of them. you don't want that, do you?" you shake your head. "i knew you were smart. you have 2 days to disappear or else we attack. oh, and if you tell him, the deals off."
you stand there, frozen as you watch him leave the bathroom. you didn't know what you were supposed to do. you didn't want to leave, not only because of maki but because of school, but josh didn't leave you with much choice. if you didn't leave, they would hurt, or even kill, maki and his pack. you couldn't be the reason that happens.
you don't know how long you stand there staring at the door, only stopping when you hear a knock on the door. "shortie? are you in here?"
"just a sec." you answer, grabbing your bag you dropped before exiting the bathroom. he's standing in front of the door, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. "are you okay?"
he nods his head. "yeah, just thought i smelled something."
"what do you smell, puppy?" you ask, laughing when he glares at you playfully. "hey, you're the one who's always using dog terms."
he lets out a low laugh, throwing his arm over your shoulder. "well then why don't you lead your dog to get some food. i'm starving."
you have dinner with him before going back to your dorm after you told maki you needed to grab more things if you were to keep staying with him. you grabbed all of your important things, shoving them underneath your clothes.
you waited until everyone was asleep before you made your move. you wrote a note for maki, leaving it on his desk. you made sure not to specify why you were leaving, just that you couldn't be the reason why anyone gets hurt.
you walked over, quietly thanking him before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. you then grab your things and leave the house. josh didn't specify where you needed to go to, so you were just going to go home. you never told maki where you were from. it was over an hour away from school, and you knew your parents wouldn't question why you came back suddenly.
you didn't think it would hurt so bad leaving, like you didn't feel right. there was a knot in your chest that won't go away, along with the nausea that won't disappear. you knew it was just guilt from disappearing suddenly. you just hoped that maki understood.
you had just gotten home and somehow fallen asleep when you suddenly woke up in a panic- all of the guilt you were feeling was somehow intensified. you chalked it up to maybe a nightmare when your phone rang. your chest twisted when you saw that it was maki. you watch as it goes to voicemail before reaching to listen to it, but something stopped you.
you saw a shadow move out of the corner of your eye. you quickly throw the covers off of you, trying to run out of your room when an arm wrapped around you, throwing you into the door before covering your mouth. you look up to see some older man you've never met.
"is this her?"
"it is." you glance behind him, stomach twisting when you noticed it was josh. "hello shortie."
that was the last thing you heard before you felt a sharp pain in the side of your head, knocking you unconscious.
you wake up with a jump, groaning when your head starts pounding. your vision is blurry as you open your eyes, glancing around confused when all you saw was concrete. you had no idea where you were.
your memories hit you, josh's pack kidnapping you, causing you to sit up and tucking yourself into a corner. you were in a small cell in what looked like a basement that was only lit by a single light. in front of your cell was josh, sitting in a chair along with a short woman you didn't know.
"good morning." he smiles when he notices you were awake. "it took you long enough to wake up."
"what- you said you would leave me alone if i left." you say, jumping when the woman let out a laugh.
"i will admit, josh. none of us thought your plan would work when you told us how smart she was." she said as she stalked towards your cell. "haven't you read enough stories to know to never trust a wolf?"
"you let your feelings for maki jumble your mind." josh agreed with her. "you should've never left him. now you're leverage."
you shake your head, panic gripping at your chest. "he won't come looking for me. i wrote a letter telling him to leave me alone."
"i figured you would do that, so i took some initiative." josh stood up from his chair and pulled your phone out of his pocket. he pulled up the messages between you and maki, showing him a photo of you unconscious. "our scouts say they're scrambling to figure out where you are. it would be so easy to attack them right now-"
"don't." you scramble to stand up, gripping the bars in front of you. "please don't."
"aw, the human is concerned for her mate. how cute." your head snaps towards her.
"my what?"
josh lets out a low groan. "alpha didn't want us to tell her that."
"what's it going to hurt? they'll both be dead soon anyway." she shrugged. "he said we couldn't hurt her physically, but not mentally. look at her. she's seconds away from crumbling."
"why would i trust you? you just told me not to." you say, making her laugh.
"you're learning. maybe you are smart." she said as she stepped closer to you. "do you feel that in your chest? the constant panic? that's the bond. you are feeling what maki is feeling right now."
you shake your head. "you're lying."
"what about the constant pull you feel towards him? the way you only feel calm is when you're near him?" she questions, nodding when you made a face. "that's what i thought?"
"does- does he know?"
she nods. "of course he does. he knew it from the moment he saw you. makes you wonder why he hasn't told you yet? maybe he's ashamed to have some weak human as his mate. i know i would."
"so now you know why we needed you so bad." josh says. "we have you. he and his pack will come like a magnet which is just what we want."
as much as you didn't want maki and his pack to come because you knew they would get hurt, it brought a comfort to you to know that he was coming from you. even if you were upset that he kept something so important from you.
"why do you want that so bad? what did they do?" you question.
both of them stayed silent until she spoke up. "it wouldn't hurt to tell her."
"a few years ago, we lost a pack member, our alpha's brother. once we tracked whoever did it, we found a camp that had signs of maki's pack there." josh explained.
"why would they kill him?" you ask. you had been around them long enough to know that none of them seemed like the type to kill someone.
"they said they didn't. claimed they were there tracking hunters when they found that camp." josh answered.
"any you don't believe them?"
"our alpha doesn't." she answers. "he wants someone to take responsibility for it."
"even if it's people that didn't do it? your alpha sounds like an idiot." you jumped when she growled at you, but you held your ground. "go ahead, mutt. you said you were going to kill me anyway."
she took a step towards you, eyes flickering gold when josh stops her. "hey. you know we can't hurt her."
you met his glare as he pulls her out of the room, leaving you completely alone. you slide back down the wall, rubbing at your chest. you now knowing that all of the panic was just you, but maki's as well.
mate. you have read about it enough times to know what it was, but you didn't think something like that existed. you also didn't think wolfs existed either. you thought you were just attracted to him, something that started out as a crush but turned into more, but it wasn't. it was a bond you didn't know existed.
even now you feel it- the pull towards him. you felt the frustration and panic that he was experiencing, and you were sure he that you were feeling the same thing. except he didn't know some of it was because of him. he let you wander in the dark about this, knowing that you felt everything he did. he didn't give you any warning or even a hint, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him.
you don't know how long you sat there, eyes closed as you rested your head against the cold concrete. eventually, you guess you fell asleep because you jumped when you heard a loud bang above you, causing the ground beneath you to vibrate. you heard yelling and growling as there was fighting going on above you.
then you felt it- the pull in your chest getting stronger. you instantly understand that it meant maki was here along with his pack. you couldn't feel relief when you heard the fighting getting closer to the door in front of you. the door jerked as it sounded like someone was slammed against it. you scoot backwards, hiding in the corner as you hear the door open- eyes watering when you saw who it was.
"maki?" you get up, watching as he runs towards the cell. his foot slams into the door making you jump as the cell door flies open. as soon as he steps into the cell, you don't hesitate to fling yourself into his arms. "i'm so sorry i left. he said he was going to hurt you. i didn't think-"
"it's okay." he whispered, trying to soothe you. his arms were wrapped tightly around you as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. "i'm just glad you're okay. i don't know what i would do if something happened to you, shortie."
"i'm sorry." you apologized again as he pulled away from you. his hands were warm as he cupped your cheeks, wiping away your tears.
"it's okay. just don't leave me again, okay?" you found yourself nodding which caused him to let out a sigh of relief. he went to pull you into his arms again when you noticed someone else come into the room, or more like something else. a black wolf with the same golden eyes that you were now used to was staring at you. you froze causing maki to turn to see what you were looking at. "don't freak out, shortie. that's k. he going to help me make sure you get out of here safely."
you nod your head, still slightly freaked out about the wolf in front of you. you knew that they were werewolves, but for some reason, you didn't expect them to turn into actual wolves. "you left out the small detail that you guys turn into actual wolves."
"i did?" he asked making you glare at him. "i thought that was a given though."
"clearly not."
"sorry, shortie." he apologized. "we need to get out of here. do you trust me?"
you let out a small sigh. "yes."
"i'm going to ignore that sigh." he mumbled slightly offended. "it isn't pretty out there, and i don't want you to see that. so i need to carry you, so you can close your eyes."
you really didn't need to think about it. you felt like the last 12 hours was enough to scar you for life- you didn't need to add to it. "okay."
once maki lifted you into his arms, you rested your head on his shoulder before closing your eyes. it was then that k led the way out of wherever josh's pack was keeping you at. you pulled closer to him when he stepped outside- the clothes you were wearing doing little to keep you warm.
"we're almost there." maki told you. you heard a car door open before you felt warm air hit you. "you can open them now."
you opened them as he sat you in the back seat of the car before motioning for you to move to the middle. you did as he said, noticing that fuma was sitting next to you as maki got into the car. as soon as maki shut the door, you guys took off.
"how are you holding up?" you look over to fuma with a shrug.
"okay. i guess."
"you really are a lot stronger than i thought you would be." he smiled, noticing that your hands were shaking. he shrugged off his jacket before throwing it over your lap. you thanked him before you heard a small sound come from maki making fuma laugh. "maybe next time come prepared."
you glance over at maki who was glaring at fuma confused until it hit you. of course he would be jealous since you were his mate- the thing he just so happen to not tell you. you felt a sharp pain in your chest at the words that girl said. that he didn't tell you because you were nothing but a weak human.
you saw maki look over at you in concern, but you didn't look over at him. you kept your gaze on the road until you saw the pack house. you give the jacket back to fuma before climbing out of the car, or at least you tried to. maki had you back in his arms before your feet could touch the ground.
"you're not wearing shoes, shortie." he said when you looked at him. you didn't respond which you could tell concerned him, but you allowed him to carry you, which he didn't put you down until you two were back in his room. "are you okay?"
"i'm fine." you answered, walking over to the bag you left behind to grab some clothes. "i'm going to take a shower."
you dodge his hand as he tries to stop you, locking the door of the bathroom before taking a shower. you stood there under the hot water until it turned cold before getting out. when you opened the door, maki was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, looking up when he heard you open the door.
"is it over?"
he nods. "none of them will bother you again."
"then why am i here?" you ask, trying to give him one last chance to tell you the truth before you were to pry it out of him.
"it's late, and our place was closer. plus, the guys are still on edge about you being kidnapped. i'll bring you back in the morning if that's what you want." you scoff at his answer.
"even now you can't tell me the truth."
he looked over with a confused look. "what do you mean, shortie? fuma and ej had to somehow convince all of us from just charging after you."
"why though?" you ask. "i've only been here for a few days. that isn't really enough time to become friends with them."
"i don't know if you know this shortie, but you're very likeable."
"oh for fuck's sake." you groan. "tell me the truth, or am walking out that door, and i am never coming back."
your statement made maki pale. "you know, don't you?"
"what gave that away?" you retort. "i had to find out from the people that kidnapped me instead of you. i have been feeling all of these impossible things that could've been explained if you didn't keep that i was your mate from me. did you just not care?"
"don't say that." maki was in front of you before you could even blink. "don't say that i don't care because i do. i've been caring since the moment i saw you. you were sitting outside reading a book between classes. you had a pink dress on with a matching bow."
you tilt your head, vaguely remembering that. you had just gotten that dress and only had it for a few months before the zipper broke. "maki, that was freshman year almost 2 years ago. you kept me in the dark for that long?"
"i didn't want to. trust me." he begged. it's just- it was right after we got into it with josh's pack. it would've put a target on your back. i was going to stay away from you for as long as possible to keep you safe, but then we got paired up. and once i started spending time with you, i knew there was no way i was letting you go."
"so why didn't you tell me after i found out about all of this?" you ask, taking a step away from him to try and get some breathing room.
"i can feel you emotions, shortie." he answered. "this past month has been nothing but fear and confusion. me telling you before would have made you more scared and pull back from me. i know it."
"then you really know nothing about me." you take another step back before sitting on his bed. "you know, there was a woman down there with josh. she was the one who told me- said you knew since the moment you saw me. she then said she wasn't shocked that you didn't tell me because you were ashamed that i was a weak human."
maki crouched down, grabbing your hands. "i would never be ashamed of you, and you are not weak. you are the strongest person i know. it makes me proud to be your mate."
you lean forward before brushing some hair out of his face. he freezes when your hand cups his cheek. he relaxes, eyes softening when you lean forward before he closes the gap.
the kiss was slow and soft. your lips tasted just like the vanilla chapstick he always sees you use and wondered what it tasted like. your hand falls from his cheek before resting on his shoulder as his hands rest on your cheeks, subtly pulling closer to you.
"you may have a point." you admit quietly as you pull away from him. "i have been really freaked out over everything, and i probably would've freaked out about this too. but i wouldn't have pulled away from you. i just- i would've liked to hear that from you and not someone else."
"i know, and i'm sorry that you didn't get to hear it from me because i was too scared to tell you. i will never hide anything from you again." you knew maki was being honest- you could feel it in your chest causing you to smile.
"you better because i still have so many questions." you say before letting out a small yawn.
"i will answer everything. i promise." he says. "but you need to get some rest. we'll talk in the morning."
he goes to get up, but you grab onto his wrist, stopping him. "stay."
"shortie, i'm just going to the couch. i'm not leaving you." he tells you, but you shake your head as you keep your grip on his wrist. he understands when you glance to the bed behind you. "you mean stay with you."
you nod before letting go of his wrist. "please."
"of course. come one."
you get in bed while maki turns the lights off before slipping into bed behind you. he doesn't even think before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into him. he freezes, going to apologize when you roll over and tuck your head beneath his chin.
"have i ever said i like how warm you are?"
"so you're just using me for my built in heating system?" you laugh, moving to kiss his jaw before tucking your head back into his chest- preventing you from seeing his large smile.
"maybe, but that's not the only reason."
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him- his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the both of you knew that you still had a long way to go, but as you fall asleep in his arms, you felt like for the first time in weeks that everything was going to be okay.
summary: when your boyfriend drags you to a party and another wolf mistakes you for being unclaimed, maki is finally forced to tell you why he hasn't marked you yet.
pairing: werewolf!maki x female!reader
warnings: established relationship, fluff, slight angst/comfort??, jealous boy maki, smut, virginity loss, marking, biting, oral (f!receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, size kink, slight manhandling (she is called shortie after all), overstimulation, mating process but not your typical werewolf terms bc idk anything about that...
word count: 5k
notes: requested but also can be read as a part 2 of wild at heart. also, bonus points if you can recognize which aiden i was thinking of when i wrote this. i hope you enjoy it! likes and reblogs appreciated!
the music hits you before anything else.
it was loud, almost making your ears ring as you step inside. the air was hot, almost insufferable with how many people there were. you glance around, clearly not wanting to be there as you turn around.
"i hate this."
maki let out a laugh before pulling you into his chest. "we just got here."
"so? i can still hate it."
his arm tightened around your waist, leaning down to kiss you. his lips making you forget that you were in the middle of a crowd. he pulled away once he felt you relax in his arms, watching as your eyes slowly blink open to meet his.
"we'll stay for just an hour, okay? just long enough to say i was here." maki said, wanting nothing more than to leave with you, but it was his friend's birthday. he told him he wouldn't miss it- something he was now regretting when he saw the pout on your lips.
"just remember you owe me food after this."
maki smiled at you, pressing a small kiss to your temple. "anything for you, shortie."
you kept to his side as he greeted people, not that he would let you go far due to his grip on your hand. his smile was bright and vibrant to others, but you could tell it was fake. he honestly didn't want to be here any more than you did, and you could tell.
he used to loved to party before you came into the picture. you had heard plenty about it from him and other people around campus, but now he almost never went. only when he was tired of people begging did he stop by, and it was never for long. he stayed for an hour or two at the most, before coming up with some excuse- though everyone knew he was going back to you.
you don't know how he had such a social battery, greeting more people than you cared to count before you ended up in the living room. maki sat down in one of the chairs before pulling you into his lap, keeping his arm around your waist while he conversed with one of his friends.
you listened, conversing when maki made you. he refused to let you feel left out, but you never did. you were more than comfortable being near him while he talks enough for both of you, and that seemed to be something he was still getting used to- even after 6 months of being together.
you started to get thirsty after a while, making you nudge maki's shoulder. "i'm going to get something to drink. want anything?"
"i'll come with you."
"maki, it's fine." you stop him before standing up. "stay here. i'll be right back."
"you better. don't make me come looking for you." his words had you smiling, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
"whatever you say, pup."
you pull back quickly, moving away from him but not before you heard a low growl. you laughed, sneaking back a glance to see him watching you. you turn the corner before making your way to the kitchen which was thankfully empty. you had just grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge when you heard a voice come from behind you.
"i haven't seen you around before." you jump, nearly dropping the water you grabbed. you turn to see some guy you haven't seen before leaning onto the kitchen doorway.
you shrug, not really wanting to converse with him, but he was blocking the exit. "probably because i don't spend all my time at parties."
"i don't either." he said, stepping fully into the kitchen. "my friends drug me here. said i need to get out more."
when he steps closer, you can see something- the small flicker of amber in his eyes. that along with his nose scrunching like he was smelling something was very familiar to you. he was like maki. a werewolf.
"are you done sniffing around?" you ask, crossing your arms. "because i'm pretty sure my wolf is already looking for me."
he acts surprised for a second, not thinking that you were aware of him before recovering. he replaces his shock with a smirk. "your wolf? why don't you smell like him then?"
"that's none of your business." you answer like it was nothing, but it wasn't. it was something you asked yourself everyday.
after 6 months of being with maki, you have learned about him and his pack. you know how things work- including mates. you've read and heard enough to know that maki waiting this long to mark you is unheard of, even if you were a human. even his pack didn't understand why he's waited so long because they could only imagine what both you and him were feeling the longer it got.
sure, you've brought it up to him. multiple times actually, but each time he said that he didn't think you were ready. at first you understood, considering that you hadn't been with anyone else prior to maki, but that understanding was long gone. you two have done some things, but not the one thing you wanted most.
"maybe it's not, but what wolf would let his mate leave his side without a claim?" he questions, leaning back onto the counter. "it sounds to me like he hasn't decided he wants you yet."
you couldn't help but roll your eyes. that was the last thing you thought when you wondered why he hasn't claimed you yet. "clearly you haven't met him then."
"yes, he has." you feel the familiar pull in your chest, the same as every time maki is close to you. you turn just in time to see him enter the kitchen, a glare on his face that softens when he looks at you. "haven't you aiden?"
you look back over your shoulder towards him. you notices that he straightened up, more serious than he was just seconds ago. that teasing smirk was replaced with a frown. "woah, man. we were just talking."
"really? because it didn't sound like it." maki says, holding out his hand for you. you don't hesitate, slipping your fingers between his before he pulls you closer to him. you could feel some of the tension leave his body with your touch, but you could still feel the anger that he was feeling.
the other wolf held out his hands, motioning towards you. "look, man. you brought her here without a claim. you know how that looks."
maki tilted his head, clearly annoyed. "i don't recall asking what you think."
"relax, maki. you know i won't go after her anymore knowing that she's yours." aiden says with a small laugh, thinking him saying that would calm maki down, but it didn't. "but you can't blame a guy, can you? she's cute and like i said, not claimed."
maki lets out a warning growl before trying to get to aiden. without question, you block him, keeping him from moving before glaring at the idiot behind you who realized that he pushed maki a little too hard. "do yourself a fucking favor and leave."
he finally gets the hint, quickly ducking out of the kitchen. that left just you and your clearly upset wolf. you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest. his eyes were amber, replacing the dark brown you love so much.
"maki." you call his name, but he keeps his eyes on the door making you cup his cheek. "maki, look at me."
he lets out a deep sigh, closing his eyes before opening them again and meeting yours- his eyes back to his normal color.
"good boy."
you notice his lips twitch making you smile. as soon as he notices that, he lets out a quiet laugh, placing his hand on top of yours. "you're unbelievable."
"yeah, but you love it." you say with a small shrug.
maki looks at you for a second before pulling you flush against him. he doesn't even give you time to think before his lips were on yours, claiming and demanding. you knew that you should probably stop him since you were in a kitchen, especially when he pinned you to the counter, but you couldn't pull away from him.
his fingers dig into your waist, tight at first before he relaxes. you could feel it in his body that the longer he kissed you, the calmer he got. you could feel the anger from him slip away, breath steading as he pulls away from you, resting his head against yours.
"are you okay, maki?" you ask first, smiling when he moves to kiss your forehead.
"i should be asking you that."
"i'm fine. he was clearly all bark and no bite."
maki laughs at your words, letting his lips trail from your temple down the side of your face before kissing along your jaw. "will you ever give up the dog jokes?"
"when i'm dead maybe." you smile when you hear him sigh, though you know he loves the jokes just as much as you did. you open your mouth to say something, but a sigh slides past your lips when you feel his teeth nipping at your neck. he hums before doing it again, loving the way you melted against him.
"what is it, shortie?" your hands land on his chest, fingers tightening around his shirt. you wanted him to keep going, but you knew he wouldn't. you stopped counting the times he's done this, just to get you needy for him to pull away, so you did it first. with one small shove of your hands, he pulled away, looking at you with concern. "you okay?"
"yeah. i'm just stopping things before you stop first." you answer, watching as the realization hits him.
"shortie-"
"i mean it maki." you stop him. "i love you. i love you so much, but you can't keep doing this. you can't keep making me want you before coming up some excuse you know isn't true. i don't even know the truth, and you promised me you would be honest."
maki let out a sigh, letting his thumb run along your cheek. "you're right. it's not fair to you."
"why haven't you claimed me?" you ask, and maki knew you weren't accepting anything except the truth this time. he hesitated for just a moment before answering.
"it's not because i don't want to." he answers. "it's just- i don't trust myself to stop once i start."
"maki-"
"you don't understand." he cuts in. "when my wolf wants something, he wants it completely. i'm scared that i'm going to lose control. baby, you're just so small, and you've never..."
he trails off, but you understand what he meant. and after all this time and excuses, you finally know the answer to why he wouldn't claim you. "you're afraid you're going to hurt me?"
"when it comes to you, i lose control faster than i've ever experienced before." he tells you. "i'll never forgive myself if i hurt you."
you raise your hand, running it through his hair before cupping his cheek- smiling when he leans into your touch. "maki, i trust you.
"shortie-"
you shake your head, already having a feeling for what he was about to say. "don't push me away again. i know what you are, and that changes nothing for me. you would never hurt me."
"i've been trying to be careful with you." he tells you, resolve slipping with every second. "but you're making it really hard."
"maki, i'm not made of glass. i trust you to not hurt me, but you need to trust me to tell you if things get too much."
your words hit him, making him nod his head. "you're right."
"i'm always right." you say making him laugh. he kisses your temple before dropping his forehead against yours.
"i love you."
"i love you too, pup."
you hear him scoff before he kisses you again. you could tell your words had gotten through to him when his hands settle low on your hips before pulling you flush against him. his tongue slips past your lips, hungry and demanding while his hands were desperate to feel every inch of you.
a soft sound slips past your lips when his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass. the sound had him biting down on your lips before pulling away. his grip tightened on you as his mouth trails down your jaw, slow enough to have you squirming in his hold. when he reaches your neck, he pauses for a moment before pulling away.
you open your eyes that you didn't realize were closed before looking at him, going to question him when you saw the flecks of amber in his eyes. "come on."
"what?" you say confused.
he lets out a laugh, hand slipping from your pocket before intertwining with yours. "if we stay here, i'm going to be temped to do something stupid in this kitchen."
"like what?" you ask, knowing that you were tempting him. he smirks, lips brushing against your ear as he leans down.
"like bending you over this counter and showing aiden that you are claimed." your face flushes at his words. he laughs before kissing your now red cheek. "let's get out of here. my hour is up anyway."
you let him pull you out of the kitchen, stomach flipping with the thoughts running through your head. maki didn't even bother to say goodbye to any of his friends before he left- too occupied in getting you alone.
he leads you to your place on campus since it is closer, but at some point he doesn't think your walking fast enough for him. he bends down before scooping you up in his arms and throwing you over his shoulder with ease.
"maki, put me down! what if someone sees?"
"i don't care." he answers. "all i care about is if i don't get you to myself in the next two minutes, i'm going to lose my mind."
that kept you quiet, hanging onto him as he entered your building. he brought you up to your room, sliding in before taking your shoes off. as soon as his are off, he moves over to the bed.
your back barely touches the mattress before maki is on top of you, lips finding yours. now that you two are alone, he stopped holding back, hands touching and squeezing you, dragging every sweet sound from your mouth.
his kiss left you breathless as his lips trailed down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. "god, you smell so sweet, my mate. you're going to look so good with my mark on you."
"maki-" you groaned, legs wrapping around his waist when his teeth nipped at your neck, leaving red marks in his path.
"what is it?" he teases, voice muffled by your neck. his hand trails down your body, cupping your heat making you squirm in his hold. "i can smell just how soaked you are, and i haven't even started yet."
he pulled away from you just long enough for him to take your shirt off, sliding your bra down your arms before latching his lips to your chest. your back arches into his face when his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking and biting your breast until they were covered in his marks.
you could hear his chest rumble now that you were covered in his marks and scent, but he was no where being done with you. you could see more flecks of amber in his eyes, showing that he was trying to stay in control and gentle. but you didn't want him to be gentle, and he could tell that you didn't with the way you moaned his name, nails digging into his shoulders.
"you're a menace." you couldn't help but laugh at his words making him glance up at you. "you think that's funny?"
"you also thought it was funny." you tell him, feeling exactly what he felt deep in your chest- a sign of being his mate that you have grown to love. you loved being able to feel what he was feeling, and right now it was driving you crazy because you could feel both your lust and his.
he sat up on his knees, hands sliding down your hips before stopping at your shorts. he unbuttoned them before slipping his hand into the front of him, watching you as his fingers ran through your slick folds. "you think this is funny, too?"
"n-no." you shake your head, jerking when his finger brushes over your clit. "maki, please touch me."
"i am. is this not what you want?" maki questions making you whine. "you got to tell me baby."
"i want your mouth."
maki smiles, loving the way your cheeks flush when you say that. maki pulls his hand out of your shorts making you groan, but you stop when he pulls your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely bare beneath him. he leans down, kissing down your stomach trailing to the place you craved most. "my pretty girl. so good and sweet for me."
between him also feeling both of your guys lust, he couldn't take the teasing anymore, not wasting any time before he tasted you. you groan as his tongue drug up your slit, tasting every inch of you before his lips kiss your clit. he circles it, waiting for your impatient moan before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard enough to have you squirming beneath him.
"i will never get tired of the way you taste, mate." he mumbled against you, vibrations making you jump. "you make me want to lock us in this room and never leave. would you like that, my mate?"
"yes, maki. i would- fuck." you lose your train of thought when his tongue eases inside of you.
he groans loudly, making sure you can hear every sound he makes because he knows it makes you embarrassed to hear how wet you were. he loved it- not only did he love the flush on your cheeks, but to know that he drives you crazy in the same way you do him.
"come on, my mate. i want to hear you scream for me." you cry out when his lips attach to your clit again, rolling it between his lips. his hands held you down, keeping you still as you shifted because he wasn't letting you move until you released on his tongue. "i know your close. i can feel you shaking."
he was right. you were trembling in his hold, trying not to squeeze him with your thighs as your heels dug into your mattress. your hands tangled in your sheets as your orgasm building up fast. "maki- please... please let me-"
"be my good little mate and come on my tongue."
that was all you needed to come to your high. maki watched as your eyes rolled back, sounds continuously falling from your lips making him groan against you. his mouth stayed attached to you, licking up drop of your release, only moving when you called his name.
within a blink of an eye, he had slid back up your body, lips pressing to yours. his tongue slide past your lips, making you groan. "you did so good for me."
he pulls away when he feels you tug at his shirt. he smirks, pulling it off with one hand before he feels you tug him closer to you again. "is that better?"
"yes." you nod, pulling him into a kiss. he smiled into it when he felt your hands exploring him, nails digging into his skin when he bit your lip. "i need you, maki. please."
he kissed the corner of your mouth. "i know, and i'm going to give you everything, my mate. but you're not ready just yet."
you let out a whine as he pulled back, sitting on his knees as he looked down at you. his hands trailed down your thighs before gripping your knees and opening your legs, fully exposing you to him. he held back a groan as he could already see you soaked.
"i'm not going to hurt you." he said, locking eyes with you. "so you need to let me prep you, okay?"
you nod your head, keeping your legs open for him as his hand ghosted up your thigh. you jerk, threatening to close your legs as his hand slid up your slit, gathering your slick onto his fingers.
"i'm going to go slow, but you're going to be good and tell me if you need me to stop, aren't you?"
"i will." you tell him, making him smile.
he did what he said, slowly easing one finger inside of you, pausing when he felt you clench around him. you let out a quiet gasp at the stretch as he fully inserted his finger. "relax for me, mate. there you go."
he let you adjust to it before you felt him move, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. he was careful, watching your expressions and waiting until you were relaxed enough to handle a second finger. you feel the burn of the stretch for a moment before it disappeared, leaving behind pleasure as he moved his fingers.
"maki..."
he hummed, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "you're so good for me. taking my fingers so well."
he sped up his fingers, feeling the original discomfort in his chest fade- now feeling nothing but pleasure radiating from you. his fingers curled making you gasp at the feeling, thighs moving to wrap around his waist. "mhm.. fuck maki."
"does that feel good, my mate?" you nod your head at his question, hands gripping his arms when he does it again. he can feel you clench around him, a moan slipping past your lips when his thumb started rubbing smooth circles on your clit. "my sweet girl. i can't wait to feel you around me, but first you're going to come all over my fingers, hmm?"
you barely even realized that you were about to come, but maki did. he curled his fingers one last time before he felt your body shaking as your orgasm ran through you. you clenched tightly around his fingers, a cry of his name falling from your lips before maki silenced you with his lips.
"so fucking perfect. so fucking mine."
you nod, thoughts cloudy from your orgasm. "yours."
"do you still want to keep going?" maki's question made you look up at him before nodding.
"yes, please maki. i want to feel you." you leaned up to catch his lips, feeling as his hand cupped your cheek. "i want you to claim me, mate."
you hear a low growl, eyes more amber than before as he quickly shed the rest of his cloths. you let your eyes trail down his body as he did so, swallowing when you saw his erection- thick and flushed.
you were unsure of how he was going to fit, but your need for him pushed that thought out of your head as he climbed back on top of you. his hands wrap around your thighs before positioning them around his waist. you could feel him nudge your entrance, slowly teasing you which had you whining.
"is this what you wanted?" he asked as he rolled his hips, length length between your folds making you nodded your head. "words."
"yes... maki please."
his lips found yours in a short kiss, waiting until your body relaxed against his before he eased inside of you. he was slow and careful, giving you plenty of time to adjust. despite that, the stretch burned drawing a hiss from your lips.
"i know, my mate. the pain will go away. i promise." his voice was soothing, lips kissing your cheek. "you're doing so good for me. you were fucking made for me."
his compliments helped you relax enough for him to push fully inside of you, hips flush against yours. you let out a moan, feeling full in a way you've never felt before. he stayed still, not moving an inch as you adjusted to him.
"can you... can you move?" you ask when you felt the stinging stretch disappear.
he nodded, lips finding yours as he moved, pulling out of you before slowly easing back into you. you could feel him trembling, fighting to go a speed that was comfortable for you. with every roll of his hips, you found yourself needing more.
"my god. you feel so good." maki rasped. "so fucking tight, my mate."
your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "go faster."
he looked at you, making sure that you were okay before he sped up. his hips snapped against yours, hard and deep that had you moaning desperately. "if you could only see how perfect you look for me. like a fucking goddess."
"maki... mhmm." you cry out, walls clenching around him. he took that a sign to keep going, holding your hips down as his pace quickens. "fuck-"
"that's it." he grunts, lips grazing your skin. "i want you to let go for me. let me hear you, baby."
his hand leaves your waist, moving down your body to find your clit. you choke out a moan, clenching impossible tightly around him when he starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. he feels your body shaking with need, desperate for release.
"come for me. let me feel you come around me."
your orgasm crashes into you, stealing your breath as you cling to him. he holds you though it, whispering how proud of you he was, kissing every inch of your exposed skin he could reach. once you came down, you could still feel him inside of you, almost throbbing with how hard he still was. "maki?"
"are you okay?" he questions, making you nod.
"i am, but your not." he swallows at your question, and you could feel how tense he was, holding back for you. you knew him well enough that there was something he wanted. "what do you need?"
"baby-"
"maki, i trust you."
something in him snaps, expression darkening as he pulls out of you. you go to question it when he flipped you with ease onto your stomach, positioning you how he wanted you. you glance back over your shoulder to see him eyeing your body with need, hands trailing down your back before resting on your hips.
"claim me, maki. please- fuck." you moan, burying your face into your mattress as he slams into you. you swear you could feel him in your stomach, groaning when he pounded into you.
his soft edge was gone, replaced by his desires he's been holding in. his grip was tight, no doubt leaving bruises on your hips as he pulled you to meet his every thrust. "do you feel how deep i am, mate?" you gasp when his hand pushes into your stomach, feeling the pressure of him. "that's me. only me. there will never be anyone else."
"i- i don't want anyone else." you mumble, face still buried in your mattress.
"my good little mate. letting me claim her like this. everyone will know who you belong to." you whimper as he deepens his thrust, making sure you felt every inch of him. "you'll let me claim you? have my mark on this pretty neck?"
"god- yes... please mark me."
you whine as he pulls out of you, flipping you again to where you were on your back. you could barely realize that he change positions before he was thrusting back into you, this time slow and deep. you could feel him twitch inside of you, a low grown falling from his lips as he presses his head against yours.
your body felt spent, trembling against him. you didn't think you had another orgasm inside of you, but you could feel it sneaking back up with his thrusts. your thighs wrap around him as his lips press into yours before he buries his head in your neck, teeth grazing where he wanted to claim you.
"please, maki." you beg. "please make me yours."
your body clenches around him, eyes screwing shut as you reach your high again, feeling maki's teeth sink into your neck right as you did. you whimper at the sting before it quickly fades away, turning into pleasure.
you felt everything he was feeling even stronger- the bond running between the both of you before settling deep in your chest. maki felt exactly what you did, letting it claim him before he released inside of you with a loud groan.
he stays tightly wrapped around you, kissing your new mark until you feel the bond calm down. he pulls away, eyeing you with a smile. "you okay, shortie?"
"more than okay."
"you did so good." you smile when he kisses your forehead. "i'm so lucky to be your mate."
"i love you."
maki finds your lips, kissing you softly. "i love you, too."
he moves to your side, wasting no time pulling you into his chest, smiling when he feel you curl into his body. he never wanted to leave this room. he just wanted to stay there until he was fully satiated of you, but he knew that would never happen. he would never get tired of you, the way you feel, the way you taste.
he knew you felt the same, clinging onto him when he tried to get something to clean you up. "baby, i'm just going to the bathroom."
"stay."
he's unable to stop the smile that pulls at his lips as he settles back beside you. "i'm not going anywhere."
"good." you grumble, curling back into him again, feeling his unnatural warmth relax you. his hand tangles in your hair, brushing through the strands as his other hand rests on your hip.
"happy now, shortie?"
you bite back a smile as you look up at him, noticing that his eyes lingered on your neck where his mark now sat. "very, pup."
"you're such a brat." he laughs, tightening his arm around you as you lay your head back on his chest.
"maybe, but you know you love it."
it isn't long before he feels you drifting to sleep, clinging to him like you never wanted to let him go. he kissed your forehead before following suit, the steady sound of your breathing the last thing he heard before sleep pulled him under too.
If I were to write a dark academia, college, vampire Enhypen fic with a reader insert inspired by Bonnie Bennett from the Vampire Diaries, who should the love interest(s) be?
Iâm not including Heeseung and Sunghoon because Dark Moon: Blood Altar heavily centers on them. I want to do something different.
The Garden That Waited for Spring ft Park Sunghoon
Dear Engene, if thereâs even a small chance that this wasnât Heeseungâs decision, then we have to fight for him. And if it was⊠at least weâll be able to say we stood by him. That we tried. That we fought.
â Summary â : In a marriage arranged by duty rather than affection, you enter Park Sunghoonâs household with quiet hope and a heart willing to love the man fate has chosen for you. But months pass in silence. You tend the garden, nurture the household, and wait for warmth that never seems to come. While others speak of children, love, and happy unions, your marriage remains distantâpolite, proper, and painfully empty. Still, like a garden waiting for spring, your heart refuses to stop hoping. Until the day that hope finally begins to fade⊠and only then does Sunghoon begin to see what he has been losing all along.
â Warnings â : Angst âą Arranged marriage âą Emotional neglect âą Family pressure for an heir âą Slow burn romance âą Historical timeline - Goryeo period
You had always believed that marriage was something beautiful and sacred. Since childhood, you had dreamt of the day you would one day become someoneâs wife. In your mind, it was never anything grandâonly a quiet home, a loving husband, and the laughter of children filling the rooms. It was a simple future, one you carried dearly in your heart, trusting that when the time came, it would surely be yours.
So when your family spoke of your betrothal, you did not weep nor protest as some girls might have done. Instead, you accepted the news with a quiet heart. If marriage was the path set before you, then you would walk it willingly.
His name was Park Sunghoon.
A man you had never met, yet the one who would soon become your husband.
You wondered what kind of person he might beâwhether he was kind, whether he liked the quiet things as you did, whether he might one day come to love the small life you had always imagined. You told yourself that love did not always have to come before marriage. Sometimes, it grew slowly, like a seed planted in patient soil.
And so you entered the betrothal with hope in your heart. You did not know then that while you dreamed of a gentle beginning, your future husband accepted the same marriage with a heart far less willing.
You first met Sunghoon on the day the betrothal was formally acknowledged.
The hall was quiet, filled with the low murmurs of elders and the faint rustling of silk garments. Incense burned slowly in the corner, its fragrance lingering in the air. You stood beside your father, hands folded neatly before you, trying to steady the nervous beating of your heart.
Park Sunghoon entered the room with steady steps. Tall, composed, and dressed in dark robes befitting his house, he carried himself with a quiet dignity that made the room seem smaller around him. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, yet there was something distant in the way he looked upon the gathering.
When his gaze finally settled on you, you felt your breath falter.
His gaze is not intense; it looks calming, like a spring breeze. Indeed, he is a beautiful young man. He bowed politely, as custom required, and you returned the gesture with equal care. The elders spoke of alliances and prosperity, of the harmony that would come from the joining of your two families. Words of celebration filled the room.
Neither of you spoke to the other. When the formalities ended, your eyes met again for the briefest moment. You offered a small, hopeful smile. Sunghoon, however, only inclined his head in quiet acknowledgement. There was nothing cruel in his expressionâno displeasure, no harshness.
Still, as you walked away that day, you told yourself not to lose heart. After all, a betrothal was only the beginning. And surely, with time, even the most distant hearts could grow closer.
The wedding was held not long after the betrothal.
From early morning, the residence was filled with the quiet bustle of preparation. Servants moved swiftly through the halls, arranging decorations and carrying trays of ceremonial offerings. Crimson silks and embroidered banners adorned the courtyard, their colors bright against the pale light of the day.
You were dressed carefully by the women of the household, each layer of silk placed upon you with great care. The weight of the garments and ornaments felt unfamiliar, yet you endured it patiently, your thoughts wandering to the man who would soon become your husband.
Sunghoon.
Though you had only met him once, the memory of his calm, distant gaze had remained with you. When the time came, you were led into the courtyard where the ceremony would take place. The elders were already gathered, their expressions solemn yet satisfied as they watched the joining of two respected families.
Sunghoon stood across from you.
Clad in formal robes, he looked every bit the noble son his house had raised him to beâcomposed, dignified, and impossibly calm. For a brief moment, you wondered what thoughts might be passing through his mind. Whether he felt anything at all about the vows that were about to bind your lives together.
The ceremony began. Under the watchful eyes of family and witnesses, the two of you bowed according to tradition, each movement careful and deliberate. Words of blessing were spoken, wishing for prosperity, harmony, and a long life together.
Then came the final bowâthe one that marked the completion of the marriage. You lowered yourself respectfully, your heart beating quietly beneath the heavy silk of your robes. When you rose again, Sunghoon stood before you as your husband. A stranger no longer. Yet not quite familiar either. Your eyes met briefly.
You offered him the same small, hopeful smile you had given before, carrying within it a quiet promiseâthat you would try your best to make this marriage a happy one. Sunghoon inclined his head in return.
Polite. Respectful. But distant.
And though the room was filled with congratulations and celebration, you could not help but feel that the space between the two of you remained just as it had been before. Still, you reminded yourself gently that a marriage was not built in a single day. Perhaps, in time, the distance would fade. Perhaps, one day, he would look at you not as a duty placed before himâ but as the wife who had chosen to walk beside him.
By the time the celebrations came to an end, the night had grown quiet. The servants had long since withdrawn, leaving the bridal chamber lit only by a few steady candles. Their soft glow flickered against the wooden walls, casting gentle shadows across the room. You sat at the edge of the bed, your hands folded neatly in your lap.
The weight of the ceremonial ornaments still rested upon your hair, though a few strands had begun to fall loose after the long day. Outside, the distant sounds of celebration had faded, leaving behind only the quiet of the night. You knew what was expected. Every bride did. Still, you waited patiently. After a while, the door slid open.
Sunghoon stepped inside.
He had changed from his ceremonial robes into simpler garments, yet he still carried himself with the same composed grace you had noticed before. For a brief moment he paused, as though unsure of what words might properly begin the night.
You rose politely and bowed your head.
âMy lord.â
Sunghoon returned the gesture with quiet courtesy. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt heavier than the silk you wore. At last, Sunghoon glanced toward the bed before looking back at you. His expression remained calm, though there was something thoughtful in his eyes now.
âYou must be tired,â he said quietly.
The words surprised you. Still, you answered gently. âIt has been a long day.â Another moment passed before he spoke again.
âThis marriageâŠâ he began, though the words seemed to weigh upon him.
You waited patiently. Sunghoon exhaled softly, as though settling on a decision he had already made long before this moment.
âYou and I are strangers.â
The statement was simple, spoken without harshness.
âThough the ceremony has bound us as husband and wife, we have only met twice. I would not treat you as though you were merely an obligation placed before me.â
Your fingers tightened slightly within your sleeves.
Sunghoon continued, his voice calm but firm.
âTo share a husband and wifeâs bond without understanding one another⊠would be nothing more than a hollow gesture.â
His gaze softened just slightly.
âAnd I would not offer you something so meaningless.â
The meaning of his words settled slowly in your heart. He was refusing the marriage bed. Not in anger. Not in disgust. But because he believed it would hold no meaning between two strangers. Sunghoon stepped back slightly, placing a respectful distance between you.
âYou may rest here tonight,â he said quietly. âI will take the study.â
For a moment, you considered speakingâperhaps to tell him that you did not mind, that marriage often began this way. But the words never came. Instead, you simply bowed your head.
âYes, my lord.â
Sunghoon inclined his head in return, offering the same careful courtesy he had shown you since the day you first met. Then he turned and quietly left the chamber. The door slid shut behind him. And in the stillness that followed, you remained standing beside the bed, listening to the fading sound of his footsteps.
You told yourself not to feel disappointed. After all, he had not spoken to you unkindly. Yet as the candles flickered softly in the quiet room, you could not help but wonder whether the distance between you and your husband was far greater than you had first imagined. Still, you held onto the hope you had carried since the beginning. Perhaps, with time, even strangers might learn to become something more.
The days following your marriage passed quietly. Sunghoon remained courteous, just as he had always been. He greeted you politely when your paths crossed in the halls, and he never once spoke to you with unkindness. Yet the distance between you remained unchanged. You told yourself that such things required patience.
So you began, little by little, to do the things you believed a wife ought to do. One morning, after learning from the servants that Sunghoon often spent long hours in his study, you prepared a pot of herbal tea from the small garden you had begun tending in the courtyard. The chrysanthemums had only just begun to bloom. You carefully brewed the tea yourself and asked a servant to deliver it to his study. Later that evening, the empty cup was returned. Nothing more. No message. Still, the cup had been finished. And somehow, that alone was enough to make you quietly glad.
Another day, while tending to the garden, you happened to see Sunghoon returning from the outer courtyard. Gathering a small measure of courage, you called to him softly.
âMy lord.â
He paused and turned to face you.
âThe chrysanthemums have bloomed,â you said gently. âIf you are not busy⊠perhaps you would care to see them?â
Sunghoon glanced briefly toward the garden before returning his gaze to you.
âI have matters to attend to.â
The refusal was not harsh. Only calm.
âI see,â you replied quietly, bowing your head. âPlease do not trouble yourself, my lord.â
And so he continued on his way, leaving you standing alone among the flowers. Still, you did not stop trying. Sometimes you would wait in the main hall late into the evening, thinking he might pass by before retiring for the night. Other times, you prepared tea or small meals you thought he might like.
More often than not, your efforts were met with nothing more than quiet politeness. Yet you told yourself it was enough. Because at least he did not reject you outright. At least he did not look upon you with displeasure.
StillâŠ
On some nights, when the house had grown silent and the lanterns burned low, you could not help but wonder if the warmth you were trying so carefully to build existed only in your own heart. And whether the man you had married would ever come to see you as more than the wife chosen for him by duty alone.
You learned the small things about him through the servantsâhow he preferred his tea, how late he often worked in his study, how he rarely returned to his chambers before the lanterns in the courtyard had nearly burned out. None of these things was told to you by Sunghoon himself.Â
Sometimes you would prepare tea and leave it outside his study, careful not to disturb him. Other times, you arranged fresh flowers in the main hall, thinking perhaps he might notice them when he passed by. You never asked if he did.
One evening, as you waited in the hall with a lantern in hand, you saw Sunghoon returning from the outer courtyard. Your heart lifted slightly at the sight of him.
âMy lord,â you greeted softly.
Sunghoon paused, offering the same polite nod he always gave.
âYou have not yet rested?â he asked.
âI thought you might return this way,â you replied gently.
For a moment, his gaze lingered on youâon the lantern in your hand, on the quiet patience with which you stood there. Then he said, almost thoughtfully,
âYou need not wait for me.â
The words were spoken calmly. Kindly, even. Yet somehow, they settled heavily in your chest. You lowered your gaze and bowed your head.
âYes, my lord.â
And though you continued to tell yourself that patience would one day be rewarded, a small and uncertain question had begun to form quietly within your heart.Â
Outside, the night remained quiet, and somewhere in the courtyard, the chrysanthemums swayed softly in the wind, blooming just as they were meant to. You wondered, not for the first time, why the same could not be said of your marriage.
Six months passed in this quiet manner.
The seasons shifted slowly beyond the walls of the residence. Spring gave way to the warmth of early summer, and the garden you had carefully tended began to flourish with new growth. Yet within the house, very little had changed. Sunghoon remained as he had been from the beginningâcourteous, composed, and distant.
He greeted you politely when your paths crossed in the corridors. At times he asked after your well-being, his tone calm and respectful, as though speaking to a guest who had long resided under the same roof.
Never unkind. Never cold. And yet never close.
You continued to perform your duties as his wife with quiet diligence. The household was kept in order, the garden carefully tended, and tea was often prepared for him during the long evenings he spent in his study. The servants had grown accustomed to the routine.
A tray left outside his door. An empty cup returned not long after. No words exchanged between husband and wife. By all appearances, nothing was amiss. Your marriage, to any outsider, would have seemed peaceful enough.
Still, there were moments when you could not help but feel the passing of time. Six months. Half a year had slipped quietly by since the day you stood beside him in the wedding courtyard. And yet, when you thought back to that first meetingâthe polite bow, the calm distance in his gazeâyou realized with a quiet heaviness that very little had changed since then.
You were still strangers sharing the same household. Still separated by a distance neither of you had crossed. Sometimes, while tending to the garden alone, you would pause and look toward the main residence, wondering whether Sunghoon might appear along the corridor. More often than not, he did not. And on those quiet afternoons, as the wind stirred gently through the herbs and flowers, you found yourself asking the same question that had begun to linger in your heart.
Whether the marriage you had once dreamed of so dearly⊠had ever truly been meant for you at all.
The months that followed passed much the same.
Summer slowly faded, giving way to the gentler chill of autumn. The herbs in your garden grew tall beneath your careful hands, their leaves brushed softly by the changing wind. And with it came a quiet realization.
A year.
An entire year had passed since the day you stood beside Sunghoon beneath the ceremonial banners, your hands folded neatly within your sleeves as the elders declared the union of your two families.
You remembered that day clearlyâthe murmured blessings, the weight of the silk robes, the careful bows exchanged before family and witnesses. At the time, you had believed it was the beginning of something. Yet now, standing alone in the courtyard garden as frost gathered lightly along the edges of the leaves, you found yourself wondering if that beginning had ever truly led anywhere at all.
One year of marriage.
And still, when you crossed paths in the corridors, Sunghoon greeted you with the same polite nod he had offered from the very first day. Respectful. Distant. As though the months between you had left no mark at all.
You lowered your gaze to the small herbs growing beneath your care, brushing your fingers gently against their leaves. Once, you had believed that patience and care could nurture anything into bloom. But as the cold winter air settled quietly around you, a small and uncertain thought returned once more to your heart.
Whether some thingsâno matter how carefully tendedâwere never meant to grow.
Not long after the first year of your marriage passed, the quiet peace of the household began to shift. It started with small remarks. Nothing direct. Nothing openly spoken before you. But whispers, like drifting wind, had a way of finding their way into the halls. One afternoon, as you passed by the inner courtyard, you overheard two elder women of the household speaking softly among themselves.
âA full year already,â one of them murmured.
âYes,â the other replied. âAnd still no news.â
Their voices lowered further, though not enough to escape your hearing.
âIt is unusual, is it not?â
âPerhaps the young lord spends too much time at court.â
You continued walking as though you had heard nothing. Your steps remained steady. Your expression calm. Yet their words lingered quietly in your mind. It did not end there. A few days later, during a family gathering, one of Sunghoonâs distant relatives spoke with an almost casual curiosity.
âLady Park,â the woman said with a polite smile, âsurely the household must soon be blessed with good news.â
You lowered your gaze respectfully.
âWe leave such matters to heavenâs will.â
The answer was proper.
Expected. Yet the woman only gave a knowing smile before turning the conversation elsewhere. From that day onward, the whispers grew more frequent. Servants spoke carefully when you passed. Relatives watched with quiet curiosity. A year of marriage without an heir was not something people overlooked easily.
Still, what troubled you most was not the whispers. It was the quiet truth behind them. For no matter how much the world wondered why the marriage had yet to bear fruitâ only you and Sunghoon knew the reason.
Your marriage had never truly begun.
And the distance between you remained just as it had been on the very first night.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
It did not take long for the whispers to reach the ears of Sunghoonâs mother.
The lady of the house had always been a composed woman, one who carried herself with the quiet authority expected of her position. Rarely did she interfere directly in the affairs of her sonâs marriage.
But after a full year had passed, silence was no longer something she could easily maintain. One afternoon, she sent for Sunghoon. He arrived at her chambers not long after, bowing respectfully as he stepped inside.
âMother.â
Lady Park studied him for a moment before gesturing for him to sit.
âYou have been busy with court matters,â she said calmly.
Sunghoon inclined his head. âThere has been much work lately.â
âI do not doubt it.â
Her gaze remained steady on him.
âBut there are matters within this house that cannot be ignored any longer.â
Sunghoon remained silent. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of wind stirring beyond the paper doors.
âA year has passed since your marriage,â she continued.
âI am aware.â
âAnd yet,â Lady Park said carefully, âthe household has not heard any news of an heir.â
Sunghoonâs expression did not change, but his gaze lowered slightly.
âMotherââ
âI have watched quietly,â she interrupted, her voice still calm. âI did not wish to interfere in your marriage. Such matters are not for a mother to involve herself in lightly.â
She paused, studying his face.
âBut the house of Park cannot remain without an heir.â
Sunghoonâs hands tightened slightly within his sleeves.
Lady Park spoke again, her tone softer now.
âYour wife has fulfilled her duties well. The household speaks highly of her.â
He knew that was true. You had done nothing to deserve criticism. If anything, you had been nothing but patient.
âAnd yet,â his mother continued, âpeople have begun to talk.â
The words hung heavily in the air. Sunghoon remained quiet. Finally, Lady Park asked the question that had been waiting between them.
âTell me honestly, my son.â
Her gaze did not waver.
âHave you even treated her as your wife?â
The silence that followed stretched quietly between them. Sunghoonâs gaze lowered slightly, though his expression remained composed. At last, he spoke.
âNo.â
The answer was simple.
Honest.
Lady Parkâs brows drew together faintly. âAnd why is that?â
Sunghoon did not reply immediately. For a moment, he seemed to be choosing his words with care.
âThis marriage,â he said slowly, âwas arranged for the sake of our families.â
âThat is often the way of such things.â
âYes,â Sunghoon acknowledged. âBut that does not make it right.â
His mother regarded him quietly. Sunghoon continued, his voice calm yet firm.
âShe is a stranger who was brought into this house because our families decided it should be so. I had no choice in the matter, and neither did she.â
Lady Park said nothing.
âAnd yet,â he added, âeveryone expects us to live as though affection can be summoned simply because a ceremony has been performed.â
His mother sighed softly. âAffection often grows after marriage.â
âSometimes,â Sunghoon replied.
âBut not always.â
The room fell silent again. After a moment, Sunghoon spoke once more.
âIt would be unfair.â
His mother looked at him carefully. âUnfair to whom?â
âTo the child.â
The words came without hesitation.
âIf a child were born into a household where the parents share nothing but obligation, what kind of home would that be?â
Lady Parkâs expression softened slightly.
âI will not bring a child into a marriage that holds no warmth,â Sunghoon said quietly. âSuch a life would not be kind to them.â
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
A child.
You had always imagined having at least two. It was a thought that had lived quietly in your heart for as long as you could remember. In your mind, they were always small and bright with laughterâchildren who would run through the garden paths while you called after them gently, their tiny hands stained with earth from helping you tend the herbs.
They would have their fatherâs features, you often thought. Perhaps his calm eyes. Perhaps the soft curve of his smileâif he ever chose to share it.
You imagined evenings where the house would no longer feel so vast and silent. Small footsteps echoing through the corridors, childish voices filling the rooms with warmth that no amount of lantern light could provide.
To you, children were not merely heirs or obligations. They were the quiet joy of a household. The living proof of love between husband and wife. And so, from the moment your marriage was arranged, you had carried that gentle hope with you.
A small family. A peaceful home. A husband who would one day look at you not with polite distance, but with affection.
Yet now, more than a year into your marriage, those dreams remained no more than distant imaginings. The corridors of the residence were still silent. The garden still belonged only to you.
You had not meant to overhear the conversation.
That afternoon, you had been walking toward the inner chambers to deliver a small basket of dried herbs you had prepared for Lady Park. The winter air had grown colder, and you thought the herbal blend might help ease the stiffness in her joints.
As you approached the corridor, voices reached you from behind the half-closed door. One of them was unmistakable. Sunghoon.
You paused instinctively, intending to step away so as not to intrude.
âI will not bring a child into a household where the parents share nothing but obligation,â he continued. âWhat kind of life would that be for them?â
His words were not harsh. They were not spoken in anger. But somehow, that made them hurt all the more.
âThis marriage was arranged,â Sunghoon said quietly. âThere is no affection between us. Only duty.â
Your fingers tightened slightly around the basket. Inside the room, Lady Park sighed softly.
âAffection can grow, my son.â
âPerhaps,â he replied.
âBut I will not gamble a childâs life on something that may never come.â
Silence fell again. Outside the door, you remained perfectly still. Your heart was beating so loudly you were almost afraid they might hear it. You had always dreamed of a small family.
A loving husband. Children whose laughter would fill the quiet rooms of this house.
But standing there in the dim corridor, listening to the calm certainty in Sunghoonâs voice, you realized something you had never allowed yourself to consider before. The future you had imagined so dearly was never something he had wanted at all.
Slowly, you lowered your gaze to the basket of herbs in your hands.
After a moment, you turned away from the door. Your footsteps were soft as you walked back down the corridor. And though your expression remained calm, the small dream you had carried so carefully within your heart felt, for the first time, as though it had begun to quietly break.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
That night, sleep did not come easily.
The residence had long since grown quiet. Lanterns along the corridors burned low, and the servants had retired to their quarters. Yet you remained awake. The words you had overheard earlier that day lingered stubbornly in your mind.
I will not bring a child into a household where the parents share nothing but obligation.
He had not spoken them with cruelty. If anything, Sunghoonâs voice had been calmâalmost thoughtful. Perhaps that was what made them hurt the most. After some time, you rose quietly from your bed. The air beyond the paper doors was cool as you stepped outside, wrapping your shawl more closely around your shoulders.
Your feet carried you instinctively toward the garden. It had always been the place where you felt most at ease. Even in the darkness, you could recognize the familiar shapes of the plants you had carefully tended for months. The herbs swayed gently in the night breeze, their faint scent drifting softly through the air.
You knelt beside them, brushing your fingers lightly against the leaves. In the silence of the garden, your thoughts returned once more to the dream you had held for so long.
A small family.
Children running through these very paths.
Sunghoon standing nearby, watching them with quiet amusement.
It had once felt so vivid. So possible. Yet now, recalling his steady voice in that dim chamber earlier that afternoon, the image felt painfully distant. He had never wanted that future.
Not with you.
Your hands trembled slightly as they rested against the cool earth. For a long moment, you sat there beneath the quiet night sky, staring at the small plants growing faithfully beneath your care. You had always believed that patience and effort could nurture anything into bloom. But perhaps you had been mistaken.
A soft breath left your lips.
Before you realized it, tears had begun to slip quietly down your cheeks. You did not sob. You did not make a sound. The tears simply fell, one after another, disappearing silently into the dark soil beneath your hands.
The garden had grown beautifully over the past year. Every herb and flower had responded to the care you gave them. Yet as you sat there alone in the cold night air, one thought lingered painfully in your mind. If even the smallest plant could grow beneath gentle handsâwhy had the marriage you had tried so carefully to nurture remained so empty?
The wind stirred softly through the garden. And beneath the quiet sky, you cried alone among the herbs you had grown with such devotion.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
That same night, long after the residence had fallen into silence, Sunghoon remained awake. A lantern burned dimly in his study, casting soft shadows across the scrolls spread before him. Yet his eyes had not moved from the same line for quite some time.
His motherâs words lingered in his mind.
Have you ever truly allowed it the chance to grow?
With a quiet breath, he closed the scroll. The air in the room had grown heavy. After a moment, he rose and stepped outside into the cool night. The courtyard was still. Only the faint rustling of leaves stirred in the wind.
Sunghoon walked without much thought, his steps slow as he crossed the stone path toward the outer garden. It was then that he saw you. You were kneeling among the herbs, your figure faintly illuminated by the pale moonlight.
At first, he thought you were simply tending to the plants again, even at such a late hour. It would not have been unusual. The garden had long been a place where you spent much of your time.
But then he noticed the stillness of your shoulders. And the way your head had lowered.
Sunghoon stopped.
From where he stood, he could not hear any sound.
Yet the faint glimmer of tears slipping down your cheeks was unmistakable. For a moment, he did not understand what he was seeing. In the year since your marriage, he had always known you as someone composed. Quiet, yesâbut steady. Patient in your duties, gentle in your speech.
He had never once seen you cry.
And suddenly, watching you there beneath the moonlight, something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. An uneasy weight. He remained where he was, hidden partly in the shadows of the corridor. Approaching you felt⊠wrong somehow. As though witnessing something deeply private.
Yet he found himself unable to turn away.
You brushed your hand across your face, wiping away tears that continued to fall despite your effort to remain calm. Your movements were small.
Silent.
There was no anger in them. Only a quiet sadness that seemed to have nowhere else to go. Sunghoonâs gaze lingered on you longer than he intended. And for the first time since the marriage had been arranged, he found himself seeing something he had never truly considered before.
Not a duty placed upon him by family. Not merely the woman who had become his wife by arrangement.
But a person.
Someone who had entered this household with hopes he had never cared to understand. Someone who had spent an entire year trying to nurture a marriage he had kept carefully distant. A quiet realization settled heavily in his chest.
If the marriage had been emptyâit was not because you had failed to try.
The night wind moved softly through the garden.
After a long moment, Sunghoon finally turned away, leaving you alone beneath the moonlight. Yet as he walked back toward the main residence, something in his thoughts had shifted. For the first time since the day of your wedding, he found himself wonderingâ how long you had been hurting like that, without him ever noticing at all.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
The gathering was lively that afternoon. The women of several noble households had come to visit, their voices filling the pavilion with soft laughter and polite conversation. Silk sleeves brushed gently as servants poured tea. Trays of fruit and sweets were placed between them, untouched for the most part as the conversation flowed easily.
You sat among them with quiet composure, hands folded neatly in your lap. Across from you, Lady Han rested a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach.
âIt has been difficult to sleep lately,â she said with a small laugh. âThe physician says the child will arrive before the end of the season.â
The other women responded warmly.
âYour husband must be very pleased.â
âHe has already ordered new silk blankets for the baby,â another added.
Beside her, Lady Min lifted a small embroidered pouch from the table.
âMy husband brought this from the capital,â she said, smiling softly. âHe said it would bring good fortune to our son.â
The women admired it with delight. You offered the same polite smile expected of you.
âHow thoughtful,â you said gently.
Yet as the conversation continuedâof pregnancies, of children learning to walk, of husbands returning from court with small giftsâyou found your hands tightening slightly within your sleeves. Their words were warm.
Joyful.
Everything you had once imagined marriage would be. For a moment, your gaze drifted toward the courtyard beyond the pavilion. A young child ran across the stones, laughing as a nursemaid hurried after him.
Your chest ached faintly.
You had once imagined such scenes so clearlyâchildren playing within your own household, a husband who would smile quietly at their mischief.
A family.
The thought passed as quickly as it came. When the women turned back toward you, asking politely about your own household, you answered with the same calm grace you always carried.
âThe residence is peaceful,â you said.
And that was true. Peaceful. Orderly. Quiet. Yet as the laughter resumed around you, you could not quite ignore the small ache settling quietly in your heart.
When you returned to the residence, dusk had already begun to settle over the courtyard. The lanterns along the corridors were being lit one by one, their soft glow reflecting faintly against the polished wood. Servants bowed as you passed, but you offered only a small nod in return before continuing toward your chamber.
The laughter of the afternoon gathering still lingered faintly in your thoughts. Pregnancies. Children. Husbands who returned home with small gifts.
Inside your chamber, the room was quiet. A small tray had been left upon the low table near the window, just as it was each evening. Upon it rested a porcelain bowl. The faint scent of herbs drifted upward from the dark liquid within. You stopped beside the table.
For a long moment, you simply looked at it. The household physician had prepared the tonic months ago, explaining that it would strengthen your body and improve the chances of conceiving. You had accepted it with quiet gratitude at the time.
Back then, the future had seemed so certain. You had imagined children running through the courtyard. A husband who might one day soften toward you. A family that would slowly grow within these walls. Your fingers lightly touched the edge of the bowl.
The liquid inside had already cooled.
Outside the window, the evening wind stirred softly through the trees. Slowly, you withdrew your hand. There was no reason to drink it. Not when the marriage had never truly begun. You lowered your gaze and gently pushed the tray a little farther aside, leaving the untouched tonic where it stood.
The lantern light flickered quietly against the porcelain bowl. And in the stillness of the room, the dream you had once carried so dearly felt a little more distant than before.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
In the weeks that followed, the household continued as it always had. Servants carried out their duties. The halls remained orderly and quiet. Nothing outwardly seemed amiss. And yet, Sunghoon began to notice small changes. At first, it was something so minor he nearly dismissed it.
The tray of tea that was usually left outside his study door arrived later than usual one evening. Another day, he passed through the corridor and saw the herbs in the courtyard left unattended until well into the afternoon. Such things were unlike you.
You had always moved through the household with careful diligence, tending to each task with quiet devotion. But recently, your presence had grown⊠less certain. One morning, while returning from court, Sunghoon saw you crossing the courtyard.
Your steps were slower than he remembered. The wind lifted the edge of your sleeve as you walked, and for the first time he noticed how thin your wrist appeared beneath the fabric. You bowed politely when you saw him.
âMy lord.â
Your voice remained gentle as always. Yet when you lifted your face, Sunghoon paused. Your complexion, once soft with quiet warmth, seemed noticeably pale. There were faint shadows beneath your eyes, as though sleep had not come easily for many nights. For a brief moment, his gaze lingered.
âYou do not seem well,â he said at last.
The words were calm, almost casual, but they carried a weight that made you hesitate. You lowered your gaze politely.
âIt is nothing, my lord,â you answered.
âPerhaps I have been a little tired.â
Your tone was steady. Careful. As though you wished to end the matter there. Sunghoon studied you for another moment. The explanation did not fully satisfy him, though he could not quite say why. For the past year, he had known you as someone quietly resilientâalways composed, always patient.
Yet recently that quiet steadiness seemed to have faded. Something about you felt⊠diminished. As though a light that had once burned softly within you had begun to grow faint.
âYou should rest more,â he said after a moment.
âYes, my lord.â
You bowed once more before continuing across the courtyard. Sunghoon remained where he stood for a while after you left. The courtyard had grown quiet again. For reasons he did not fully understand, a faint unease settled in his chest.
He had thought the distance between you was something simpleâsomething that could exist without consequence. Yet watching your figure disappear along the corridor, he found himself wondering whether that distance had begun to cost far more than he had ever intended.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
The afternoon had grown unusually warm. Sunlight poured into the courtyard, casting long shadows across the stone path. The garden was quiet, the herbs swaying gently beneath the faint movement of the wind.
You knelt beside the rows of plants, your hands moving slowly through the soil as you cleared away a few fallen leaves. The work had once brought you comfort. Lately, however, even simple tasks seemed to demand more strength than before.
You paused, resting your hands lightly against your lap. A faint dizziness lingered at the edge of your senses, something that had visited you more often in recent days. You told yourself it would pass. It always did.
Slowly, you rose to your feet. The moment you did, the world shifted slightly. The courtyard seemed to tilt beneath your steps, the sunlight suddenly far too bright. Your hand reached instinctively for the wooden pillar beside the veranda, gripping it to steady yourself. You drew in a slow breath.
Just a moment more, you thought. It will pass. Footsteps sounded across the courtyard. You did not notice them until a voice spoke.
âYou look unwell.â
The words were calm, yet they carried a firmness that made you lift your gaze. Sunghoon stood a few steps away, having just crossed the stone path toward the residence. His eyes were fixed on you, his expression composed as alwaysâthough there was a slight tension in his brow.
You straightened immediately, lowering your hand from the pillar.
âIt is nothing, my lord,â you said softly, bowing your head. âPerhaps I rose too quickly.â
Sunghoon did not respond right away. His gaze lingered on you. The faint pallor of your complexion. The way your shoulders seemed slightly weaker than before. Even the careful steadiness in your voice felt⊠strained.
âYou have been unwell for some time,â he said after a moment. The statement surprised you. You lowered your gaze further.
âI apologize if my appearance has caused concern.â
Sunghoon studied you quietly. For many months, you had carried yourself with quiet diligence. Your movements had always been careful, your presence steady within the household.
But recently, he had begun to notice small changes. The herbs sometimes left unattended. Your steps slower through the corridors. The faint shadows beneath your eyes. None of them had seemed important at the time.
Now, seeing you standing there gripping the pillar for balance, those small details returned to him all at once.
âYou should not dismiss this,â he said.
His voice was still calm, but there was something firmer beneath it.
âI will send for the physician.â
Your head lifted slightly in surprise.
âMy lord, it is truly unnecessaryââ
âIt is decided.â
The interruption was not harsh, but it left little room for argument. You hesitated, then bowed your head once more.
âYes, my lord.â
Sunghoonâs gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned toward the main residence, summoning a servant with a quiet instruction. The courtyard returned to silence. You remained where you stood, your hand still resting lightly against the pillar. A faint breeze stirred through the herbs at your feet. For reasons you could not quite explain, the concern in Sunghoonâs voice lingered quietly in your thoughts long after he had gone.
By evening, the household physician had arrived. The older man was well known within the residence, having served the family for many years. His movements were careful and deliberate as he examined you within the quiet privacy of your chamber.
You sat beside the low table, sleeves drawn neatly over your hands as he checked your pulse. The room remained silent except for the faint rustle of his robes. Sunghoon stood a short distance away near the window. He had not taken a seat. Instead, he remained standing with quiet composure, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the physicianâs work, though his expression revealed little.
At last, the physician released your wrist.
âYou may rest for now, my lady,â he said gently.
You inclined your head politely.
âThank you.â
A servant stepped forward to guide you toward the inner chamber so you could lie down. You did not look toward Sunghoon as you passed him, though you felt his presence quietly within the room. Once the door curtain had settled closed behind you, the chamber grew still again. The physician gathered his instruments slowly before turning toward Sunghoon.
âMy lord.â
Sunghoon inclined his head slightly.
âWhat is her condition?â
The physician did not answer immediately. His eyes lowered briefly in thought.
âHer body shows signs of weakness,â he said at last. âHowever, the cause does not appear to be illness.â
Sunghoonâs gaze sharpened slightly.
âExplain.â
The physician folded his hands within his sleeves.
âIt is more likely the result of prolonged strain.â
âStrain?â Sunghoon repeated.
âYes, my lord.â
The older man spoke carefully, choosing his words with respect.
âLack of proper rest. Irregular meals. A mind that does not find peace.â
He paused before continuing.
âThe body often reflects the burdens carried by the heart.â
The room fell quiet. Sunghoon did not respond immediately. He thought back over the past several weeks. Your pale complexion. The shadows beneath your eyes. The quiet way you had begun moving through the household as though weighed down by something unseen.
âYou believe this condition is caused by⊠emotional distress?â he asked.
âIt is very possible,â the physician replied.
He hesitated briefly before adding another thought.
âMy lord, your wife is known among the servants as someone diligent and gentle in her duties. Yet such individuals often carry their burdens quietly.â
Sunghoonâs gaze shifted slightly toward the curtain that separated the chamber. Beyond it, you were resting. Or perhaps simply lying awake.
âWill she recover?â he asked.
âWith proper care, yes.â
The physician bowed his head slightly.
âShe must rest more. She should eat regularly, and avoid unnecessary stress.â
Sunghoon remained silent for a long moment. The explanation felt⊠incomplete. Something about it unsettled him more than it should have. Emotional strain. Your quiet sadness in the garden beneath the moonlight returned vividly to his mind. At last, Sunghoon nodded.
âEnsure she receives whatever treatment is necessary.â
âYes, my lord.â
As the physician gathered his things to leave, he paused briefly.
âThere is one additional matter, my lord.â
Sunghoon looked toward him.
âSome months ago, I prepared a tonic for your wife.â
âA tonic?â
âYes. It was meant to strengthen the body⊠particularly for conceiving a child.â
Sunghoonâs expression remained composed, though something in his gaze shifted.
âAnd?â
The physician lowered his voice slightly.
âShe has not requested it for several weeks.â
The room grew still. For reasons he could not yet fully understand, the physicianâs words settled heavily in Sunghoonâs thoughts. Later that night, the residence had grown still.
Most of the servants had already retired, leaving the corridors dimly lit by a few lingering lanterns. Their soft glow stretched across the polished floor as the night wind moved faintly through the open lattice windows.
Sunghoon walked slowly along the corridor leading toward your chamber. He had told himself it was only to ensure that the physicianâs instructions were being followed. Nothing more.
When he reached the doorway, the curtain had been drawn slightly open. Inside, the room was quiet. You were resting in the inner chamber, the faint outline of your figure visible behind the gauze curtain that separated the sleeping space from the outer room.
Sunghoon did not enter. Instead, he remained near the threshold, his gaze drifting across the chamber. It was then that he noticed the tray. It rested on the low table beside the window, illuminated by the faint lantern light.
A porcelain bowl sat upon it. The dark liquid inside had already cooled, untouched. Sunghoon stepped closer. For a moment, he simply looked at it. The physicianâs words returned quietly to his mind.
A tonic meant to strengthen the body⊠particularly for conceiving a child.
His gaze lingered on the bowl. There were faint traces of herbs along the rim, the scent still lingering in the air. It had clearly been prepared recently. Yet no one had drunk it. He glanced briefly toward the inner chamber. You lay motionless behind the curtain, your breathing soft and even in sleep. Or perhaps you were only pretending to sleep. Sunghoon returned his attention to the bowl.
Months ago, the physician had said. Which meant you had accepted the medicine long before tonight. Before the recent weeks. Before the quiet change in your demeanor he had begun to notice. A thought formed slowly in his mind. You had been preparing yourself. Preparing for a child that had never been given the chance to exist. His hand moved slightly toward the bowl before stopping.
For a long moment, he stood there in silence. Until finally, he pushed the tray a little farther from the edge of the table, as though to prevent it from being accidentally disturbed. It was a small gesture. Almost meaningless.
Yet as he turned to leave the chamber, the weight of the untouched tonic lingered quietly in his thoughts. And for the first time, he began to wonder how many hopes you had once carried into this marriage⊠that he had never even noticed.
The following morning arrived quietly. A thin mist still lingered across the courtyard when Sunghoon stepped outside. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth from the garden.
For a moment, he stood beneath the veranda, his gaze drifting across the familiar rows of herbs. You were not there. That, in itself, felt unusual. For many months, the garden had been where he most often found you. Kneeling among the plants, sleeves carefully drawn back as you worked the soil with patient hands.
Today, the herbs stirred gently in the morning breeze. Untended. Sunghoon descended the wooden steps slowly and walked along the narrow path between the rows. He was not particularly knowledgeable about herbs. To him, they had always been little more than plants maintained for the householdâs needs.
But as he moved farther into the garden, he noticed something he had never truly paid attention to before. The herbs were arranged carefully. Not randomly. Each section seemed deliberately separated from the others. He paused beside a row of plants with small pale blossoms. A servant who had been trimming the outer hedges noticed his presence and hurried forward, bowing respectfully.
âMy lord.â
Sunghoon gestured lightly toward the plants.
âThese herbs,â he said. âWhen were they planted?â
The servant hesitated briefly before answering.
âMy lord⊠they were planted not long after your marriage.â
Sunghoonâs gaze remained on the pale flowers swaying in the wind.
âFor what purpose?â
The servant glanced down at the plants before speaking.
âThey are used in medicines for mothers, my lord.â
Sunghoonâs expression remained composed, but something in his gaze sharpened slightly.
âMothers?â
âYes, my lord,â the servant replied carefully. âThe household physician advised her ladyship on which herbs were useful.â
He pointed quietly to several nearby rows.
âThese strengthen the body during pregnancy. And those⊠they are often used for women recovering after childbirth.â
The words settled heavily in the quiet morning air. Sunghoon did not respond immediately. His gaze moved slowly across the garden. Rows of herbs. Carefully planted. Carefully tended. For an entire year. A memory surfaced unbidden. The untouched bowl of fertility tonic on the table the night before. The physicianâs quiet explanation.
It was meant to strengthen the body⊠particularly for conceiving a child.
Sunghoon stood there in silence. When he had first seen you in this garden, he had assumed it was simply a pastime. Something you did to pass the quiet hours of the household. He had never asked. Never wondered. Yet now, looking at the carefully arranged rows before him, the purpose felt unmistakable.
You had planted them for a future you believed would come. A marriage. Children. A family that would one day fill this quiet residence. All of it had grown patiently beneath your care. While the marriage itself had remained unchanged. The morning breeze stirred the herbs once more.
For a long moment, Sunghoon said nothing. Then he turned away from the garden path. The servant bowed as he passed, but Sunghoon barely seemed to notice. His thoughts had grown unusually heavy. And as he walked back toward the residence, one quiet realization settled deeper than the others. You had entered this marriage with hope. Hope he had never truly seen. And slowly, without meaning to, he had allowed that hope to fade.
That evening, the residence was unusually quiet. The physicianâs instructions had spread quietly among the servants, and the household moved with greater care than usual. When the evening meal was prepared, a servant approached Sunghoon in the main hall.
âMy lord, shall the tray be delivered to your study as usual?â
Sunghoon paused for a moment. For nearly a year, his meals had been taken alone. It had simply become routine. Yet tonight, the thought lingered briefly in his mind.
âPrepare two settings,â he said at last.
The servant blinked in mild surprise before bowing.
âYes, my lord.â
When the meal was brought to your chamber, you looked up with quiet confusion. The low table had been set with two bowls of rice, several small dishes, and a pot of warm soup. You hesitated.
âIs there a mistake?â you asked softly.
The servant shook her head.
âMy lord instructed that you dine together this evening.â
Your fingers tightened slightly within your sleeves. A moment later, Sunghoon appeared at the doorway. The servant bowed and withdrew, leaving the two of you alone. For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. Then Sunghoon stepped inside.
âYou should eat while the food is still warm,â he said calmly.
You bowed your head slightly.
âYes, my lord.â
The two of you sat across from one another at the low table. The atmosphere was quiet, the soft clink of porcelain the only sound in the room. You lifted your chopsticks slowly, though your appetite was faint. Sunghoon noticed. Your movements were slower than usual, and after only a few bites, you set the chopsticks down.
âYou should eat more,â he said.
You lowered your gaze politely.
âI am not very hungry tonight.â
The answer was gentle. Almost apologetic. Sunghoon studied you for a moment. The physicianâs words returned to his mind.
She must eat regularly.
Without another word, he lifted the small bowl of soup and placed it closer to you.
âThe physician said warm broth will help restore your strength.â
You looked at the bowl, surprised by the gesture. It was a simple act. Something small. Yet in the year since your marriage, Sunghoon had never once placed food before you. For a moment, you did not move. Then you bowed your head slightly.
âThank you, my lord.â
You lifted the bowl and took a small sip. The soup was warm. Comforting. Across the table, Sunghoon quietly returned to his meal. But his gaze drifted toward you once more. Your pale complexion. The careful way you held the bowl. For reasons he could not easily explain, the sight unsettled him. For the first time since your marriage began, Sunghoon found himself paying attention not to the distance between youâ but to the quiet ways you had endured it.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
Eighteen months had passed since your marriage. By outward appearances, the household remained peaceful. The residence was orderly, the servants well-managed, and the name of the family remained respected within court society. Yet beneath that calm surface, something unspoken had begun to linger.
Eighteen months. In a household of such standing, it was no small matter that no heir had yet been born. You had grown accustomed to the subtle shifts in conversation whenever other noble ladies gathered. The lingering glances. The polite smiles that carried questions never spoken aloud. On this particular afternoon, several relatives of the family had come to visit. The outer hall was filled with the quiet murmur of conversation as servants moved back and forth preparing tea.
You had been on your way to the storage room, carrying a tray of dried herbs when voices drifted from the adjoining corridor. You slowed slightly when you heard one of the elder women speaking.
âEighteen months,â she said quietly.
âIt is not a short time.â
Another voice answered in a lower tone.
âThe lady of the house has conducted herself properly. No one can deny that.â
âYes,â the first woman agreed.
âBut a household of this standing cannot remain without an heir indefinitely.â
Your fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the tray. There was a pause before the second woman spoke again.
âHis lordship has refused the matter before.â
âThe matter of a concubine?â the first woman replied.
âYes.â
A soft sigh followed.
âPerhaps he believed time would resolve the issue. But time has already passed.â
Another voice joined the conversation.
âThe elders may raise the matter again soon.â
Your steps came to a stop. Not because you meant to listen. But because your feet simply refused to move.
âA concubine would ensure the continuation of the family line,â the woman continued matter-of-factly.
âIt would not diminish the ladyâs position.â
A faint bitterness crept into another voice.
âThat may be true in name. But everyone knows what it means when the first wife cannot provide an heir.â
Silence followed. Then someone spoke again, softer this time.
âThe poor girl. She seems gentle.â
âYes.â
âBut gentleness does not produce children.â
The words settled heavily in the quiet corridor. You stood there for a moment longer. Then, slowly, you resumed walking. Your expression remained calm. Composed. As though you had heard nothing at all. When you passed through the hall, the women greeted you with polite smiles.
âMy lady.â
You returned their bows with the same quiet grace.
âPlease continue your conversation,â you said gently.
âThere is no need to stand on my account.â
Your voice was perfectly steady. No one could have guessed that only moments earlier you had heard every word they spoke. You continued walking until the voices faded behind you. Only when you reached the empty corridor beyond did your steps slow.
Eighteen months. You had once counted the passing months with quiet hope. Now you no longer counted them at all. Because hope, you had learned, could grow very tired when it was the only thing holding a marriage together.
In the months following the physicianâs visit, Sunghoon found himself coming to your chamber more often. At first, he told himself it was simply to ensure your health had improved. The physician had spoken clearlyâyour body had grown weak from prolonged emotional strain. It would take time for you to recover.
So he visited. Sometimes in the late morning. Sometimes after returning from court. Each time, he asked the same question.
âAre you feeling better today?â
And each time, you answered the same way.
âYes, my lord.â
Your tone was gentle. Respectful. Yet something had undeniably changed. The quiet warmth that once lingered in your presence had faded. You no longer prepared tea for him in the evenings. The tray that had once been left outside his study door no longer appeared.Even the gardenâonce tended so carefullyâhad begun to show small signs of neglect.
The herbs remained alive, but the soil had not been turned in quite some time. At first, Sunghoon told himself you were simply resting. But as the weeks quietly passed, the absence of your small habits began to weigh on his mind more than he expected.
It was a strange thing to notice. He had once believed those gestures unnecessary. Yet now their absence made the residence feel⊠quieter. Emptier. One evening, as dusk settled over the residence, he came to your chamber again. You were seated near the low table, folding a piece of cloth with slow, deliberate movements.
When he entered, you immediately rose.
âMy lord.â
You bowed politely. Sunghoon inclined his head.
âYou may sit.â
You obeyed without hesitation. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The lantern between you cast a quiet golden light across the room. Sunghoon studied you carefully. Your complexion had grown noticeably paler. There was a faint weariness in your movements that had not been there before. At last, he spoke.
âThe physician says you have not been drinking the tonic.â
Your hands stilled.
âYes, my lord.â
âWhy?â
The question lingered in the air. You did not answer immediately. Instead, your fingers resumed folding the cloth slowly, as though the task required careful attention. Sunghoon watched you for a moment longer before speaking again.
âHave you truly abandoned the hope of this marriage?â
The question settled quietly in the space between you.
For a moment, you said nothing. Your fingers tightened slowly around the cloth resting in your lap. Something stirred painfully in your chest. At first, you tried to hold it back. You lowered your gaze, drawing in a slow breath as though steadying yourself. But the words echoed again in your mind.
Abandoned hope.
A faint, shaky breath escaped you. When you finally spoke, your voice was softer than usual.
âMy lord⊠do you truly wish to ask me that?â
Sunghoonâs expression remained composed.
âI am asking sincerely.â
Something inside you cracked. Your head lifted. For the first time in many months, the careful calm you always maintained before him began to unravel.
âYou ask whether I have abandoned hope,â you said quietly.
Your fingers curled tighter around the fabric.
âMy lord⊠hope was the only thing I had.â
Your voice trembled now despite your effort to keep it steady.
âI entered this household believing that if I was patient enough⊠if I fulfilled my duties properly⊠perhaps one day you might look at me and see your wife.â
You drew in a breath that felt too tight in your chest.
âI waited for you.â
The words came out before you could stop them.
âI prepared tea outside your study every evening.â
âI waited during meals even when you did not come.â
âI tended the garden because the physician once said the herbs would be useful for childbirth.â
Your gaze finally lifted to meet his. Your eyes glistened, but this time you did not look away.
âI drank the tonic because I believed we might one day become a family.â
The silence in the room grew heavier with each word.
âBut you never once came to me as a husband.â
The statement was not loud. But it struck harder than anger ever could.
âYou were always kind.â
âAlways polite.â
âAlways distant.â
A tear slipped down your cheek, but your voice continued, strained now with the emotion you had kept buried for so long.
âAnd now⊠after all this time⊠you ask if I have abandoned hope.â
Your breath trembled.
âMy lord⊠hope cannot survive forever when it is the only thing keeping a marriage alive.â
The lantern flame flickered softly between you. For eighteen months you had spoken carefully, gently, respectfully. But tonight the truth had finally slipped free.
âI stopped drinking the tonic,â you said quietly.
âBecause I finally understood something.â
Sunghoonâs voice was lower now.
âWhat did you understand?â
Your answer came slowly.
âThat a child deserves to be born into a family where both parents wished for them.â
You lowered your gaze again.
âAnd I cannot bring a child into a marriage where their father never wanted the marriage that created them.â
The room fell completely silent. Your hands rested quietly in your lap now. The anger had passed. Leaving only exhaustion behind.
âIf the elders decide a concubine is necessary,â you continued softly, âI will not oppose it.â
âThe family line must continue.â
For the first time since your marriage began, the truth between you had finally been spoken without restraint. And the quiet that followed felt heavier than anything either of you had said.
The room fell silent after your final words. The lantern flame flickered softly between you, casting long shadows against the walls. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Sunghoon remained seated where he was, his gaze fixed on you as though he had not expected the truth to sound quite so heavy when spoken aloud.
You, meanwhile, had grown very still. The anger that had briefly surfaced had already begun to fade, leaving only quiet exhaustion behind. Slowly, you lowered your head.
âMy lord,â you said softly.
âIf you will excuse me.â
You rose from your seat with careful composure, smoothing the fabric of your hanbok as you did. Your movements were calm. Measured. As though nothing significant had just passed between you. But Sunghoon felt the shift immediately. For eighteen months, you had always remained. Even in silence. Even in disappointment. You stayed. You waited. But now, as you stepped past the low table toward the door, it felt unmistakably like you were leaving something behind.
Something final.
Your fingers had just brushed the wooden frame of the door when a sudden warmth closed gently around your wrist.
You froze.
The contact startled you. Sunghoon seemed almost as surprised as you were. His hand had moved before his thoughts had caught up with it. For eighteen months he had been careful. Careful not to cross the distance he had placed between the two of you. Careful not to treat you as a wife when the marriage itself had never been his choice. Yet now his hand remained around your wrist, firm enough to stop you.
âMy lordâŠ?â you murmured softly.
Your heart had begun to beat faster, though you could not quite understand why. Sunghoon did not immediately release you. His grip was not harsh. But it carried a quiet urgency you had never felt from him before. For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes rested on your back, as though he was searching for words that did not come easily.
âI did not realize,â he said at last.
His voice was lower than usual. There was something unsettled within it. Your fingers trembled faintly in his grasp.
âMy lord,â you said gently, âthere is nothing more to say.â
Sunghoonâs hand tightened slightly before loosening again.
âYou believe I never wished for this marriage.â
You remained silent. Because the truth of that belief had already been spoken. He drew in a slow breath.
âWhen this marriage was arranged⊠I believed it would be unfair to you.â
Your brows knit faintly.
âI thought that if I kept my distance⊠if I did not treat you as a wifeâŠâ
His voice faltered slightly.
ââŠthen perhaps you would not be forced to live in a marriage without affection.â
The explanation hung awkwardly in the air. For a long moment, you simply stared at him.
âMy lord,â you whispered at last.
âThat is exactly the marriage I have been living.â
The words struck him harder than your earlier anger. Sunghoonâs hand loosened immediately. But even then, he did not pull away at once. For a brief moment longer, his fingers remained around your wrist. Warm. Unfamiliar. Then slowly⊠he released you. The absence of his touch felt strangely noticeable. You lowered your hand, regaining your composure.
âMy lord should rest,â you said quietly.
Your voice had returned to the calm politeness you had always used with him. But now that distance felt different. Not patient. Not hopeful. Only quiet. You bowed your head before stepping out of the chamber. Sunghoon remained standing where he was. The room had grown silent once more. Yet his gaze lingered on the doorway long after you had disappeared.
Because for the first time since your marriage began, he felt something deeply unsettling settle in his chest. For eighteen months, you had waited for him. And now⊠it seemed you had finally stopped.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§Â
The evening sky had grown dark much earlier than usual. Heavy clouds had gathered throughout the afternoon, and by nightfall the rain began to fall steadily across the residence. You had not intended to remain outside for long. Earlier that evening, you had been walking slowly along the outer corridor, intending only to check on the servants closing the garden gates before returning to your chamber.
But before you had reached the main residence again, the rain had suddenly grown heavier. The sound of it striking the tiled roofs filled the courtyard. With little choice, you stepped beneath the shelter of a small pavilion that stood beside the stone path. The wooden beams offered enough cover to keep you dry. Still, the air had grown cold. You folded your hands together inside the long sleeves of your hanbok, watching the rain fall quietly across the dark garden. Moments passed. Perhaps longer.
You had begun to think you were alone when the sound of footsteps approached along the corridor. You turned slightly. Sunghoon appeared through the curtain of rain, his figure faintly illuminated by the lanterns hanging along the walkway. He had likely been returning from his study. When he noticed you standing beneath the pavilion, his steps slowed. For a brief moment, he seemed surprised. Then he stepped under the shelter as well.
âMy lord,â you greeted softly, bowing your head.
Sunghoon inclined his head in return.
âYou are still outside at this hour.â
âThe rain came rather suddenly,â you replied.
Your voice was calm. Polite. As it always had been. For a while, neither of you spoke again. The rain continued to fall heavily beyond the pavilion, striking the stone courtyard with a steady rhythm. The air between you felt unfamiliar. Not hostile. Just⊠uncertain. You remained standing near the edge of the pavilion, your gaze fixed on the rain. But after a few moments, Sunghoon noticed something.
Your shoulders had drawn slightly inward. Your hands were hidden within your sleeves, but the faint tremor in your posture was difficult to miss.
âYou are cold,â he said quietly.
You shook your head lightly.
âIt is nothing, my lord.â
Yet the night wind swept through the open pavilion again, carrying the damp chill of the rain with it. Without another word, Sunghoon removed the outer robe draped over his shoulders. You noticed the movement only when the fabric suddenly settled gently across your own. Startled, you looked up.
âMy lordââ
âYou should wear it.â
His tone was calm. But there was a quiet firmness in it. You hesitated.
âIt would not be appropriate.â
âThe night is cold,â he said simply.
You fell silent. The robe was still warm from his body. For a moment you did not know what to do with your hands. At last, you bowed your head slightly.
ââŠThank you, my lord.â
The two of you remained standing there as the rain continued to fall. The distance between you was no more than a few steps. Closer than you had ever stood before in all the months of your marriage. Neither of you spoke. But something about the quiet felt different now. Not empty. Just uncertain. Sunghoonâs gaze drifted briefly toward you. The robe looked almost too large around your shoulders. And for reasons he could not quite explain, the sight made something shift quietly in his chest.
For eighteen months he had kept careful distance between the two of you. Yet tonight, standing beneath the same small pavilion while the rain fell endlessly beyond its roof, the space between you no longer felt quite as natural as it once had. Outside, the rain showed no sign of stopping. And for the first time since your marriage began, neither of you seemed eager to leave.
The rain did not stop for quite some time. It fell steadily beyond the pavilion, the sound soft but constant as it struck the stone paths and the leaves of the garden trees. You remained where you stood, the robe still draped carefully around your shoulders.
Its warmth felt unfamiliar. Sunghoon stood a short distance away, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the rain as though waiting for it to ease. At last, the downpour began to soften. The heavy curtain of rain slowly thinned until only a light drizzle remained. The courtyard beyond the pavilion glistened beneath the lantern light. You shifted slightly.
âIt seems the rain has lessened,â you said quietly.
Sunghoon nodded once.
âYes.â
You gently adjusted the robe around your shoulders before bowing your head.
âThank you for your kindness earlier, my lord.â
You moved to remove the robe, intending to return it to him. But before you could lift it from your shoulders, Sunghoon spoke.
âYou may keep it until you return indoors.â
Your hands paused.
âIt is not far,â you replied softly.
âThe night air is still cold.â
His tone remained calm. Not commanding. Simply certain. You hesitated only a moment before lowering your hands again.
ââŠVery well.â
Together, the two of you stepped out from beneath the pavilion. The stone path was damp beneath your feet, reflecting the lantern light in faint ripples. You walked slowly along the corridor leading toward the inner residence. For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet felt almost fragile. Yet the distance between you was different now. Sunghoon walked beside you rather than ahead. Close enough that you could hear the faint rustle of his clothing as he moved. It was such a small thing. But it felt unfamiliar.
When you reached the entrance of the inner quarters, you finally stopped.
âMy chamber is just beyond this corridor,â you said softly.
Sunghoon nodded. For a brief moment, neither of you moved. Then you turned slightly toward him. Carefully, you slipped the robe from your shoulders and held it out with both hands.
âThank you, my lord.â
Sunghoon accepted it. But instead of leaving immediately, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. The lantern light illuminated your face softly. You looked tired. Still pale. Yet calmer than you had been in many weeks.
ââŠYou should rest,â he said at last.
âYes, my lord.â
You bowed your head. Then you turned and began walking down the corridor toward your chamber. Sunghoon remained standing where he was. Watching. The robe still rested loosely in his hands. It was only when your figure disappeared behind the sliding door that he finally moved again.
For eighteen months, distance had always felt natural between the two of you. Necessary, even. But tonight, walking beside you through the quiet courtyard, he had realized something he had not expected. The distance he had kept so carefullyâŠno longer felt like the right thing to maintain.
àšà§ âââ ⥠âââ àšà§
Several days later, an invitation arrived from the royal court. A lantern rite was to be held at one of the great temples near the capitalâa ceremony attended by many noble families to pray for prosperity and peace within the kingdom. Attendance was considered both an honor and an obligation.
On the evening of the event, the temple grounds were already glowing with hundreds of lanterns when the carriages arrived. Soft light flickered across the stone courtyards, illuminating rows of colorful paper lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze. The air smelled faintly of incense. You stepped down from the carriage carefully, your hands folded neatly within your sleeves.Â
Sunghoon followed a moment later. As was customary, you walked beside him toward the temple courtyard. Not touching. But close enough to be seen together. Noble families filled the grounds. Ladies in elegant hanbok moved gracefully between lantern displays while children ran excitedly along the paths.
The quiet sound of laughter drifted through the air. You noticed it almost immediately. A young couple standing near one of the lantern trees. The woman held a small child in her arms while her husband carefully helped the boy hang a lantern from the wooden frame. The child clapped happily as the lantern swayed above him.
For a brief moment, your steps slowed. It was such a simple sight. Yet something in your chest tightened unexpectedly. You lowered your gaze and continued walking. Sunghoon noticed. He had not intended to watch you so closely tonight. But lately, he found himself noticing things he had once ignored. The way your attention lingered briefly on the child. The way your expression softened before quickly returning to its usual calm. Further along the courtyard, another noblewoman greeted you warmly.
âMy lady, it has been some time.â
You bowed politely in return.
âYes, it has.â
The woman smiled kindly.
âAnd how has married life been treating you?â
The question was harmless on the surface. Yet both of you knew what it truly meant. Your answer came smoothly.
âThe household has been peaceful.â
Sunghoon stood beside you in silence. But for the first time, the polite exchange left an uncomfortable weight in his chest. As the ceremony began, the temple bells rang softly through the courtyard. People stepped forward one by one to hang their lanternsâeach lantern carrying a written wish or prayer. You stepped forward as well. The monk handed you a small brush. After a brief pause, you wrote quietly across the lantern paper. Then you hung it among the others. The lantern swayed gently in the evening breeze. Sunghoon approached a moment later. His gaze lingered briefly on the characters you had written. Your prayer was simple.
Peace for this household.
Nothing more. No mention of children. No mention of hope. For reasons he could not quite explain, the sight left an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Nearby, a young husband carefully adjusted the lantern his wife had hung, steadying it when the wind blew too strongly. Without thinking, Sunghoonâs gaze shifted back to you.Â
You stood quietly among the lantern light, your expression calm as always. Yet suddenly he realized something. In all the months of your marriage⊠he had never once stood beside you like that. And the thought unsettled him more than he expected.
Lanterns continued drifting slowly along the dark surface of the river. Their soft glow moved gently with the current, carrying the prayers of countless people into the night. You had already stepped back from the waterâs edge, watching the lantern you released slowly disappear among the others.
Nearby, attendants were still handing out small wooden lanterns to those who wished to send their own prayers. Sunghoon stood quietly for a moment longer. Then, without saying anything, he approached the table where the lanterns were placed. You noticed the movement from the corner of your eye.
It surprised you slightly. You had not expected him to participate. The attendant handed him a lantern and a small brush dipped in ink. Sunghoon held the brush for a moment, staring down at the blank surface of the paper. For a long time, he did not write. The river continued to glow softly beside him. And your earlier words returned to his mind without invitation.
Hope cannot live forever when it is the only thing keeping a marriage alive.
His grip on the brush tightened slightly. Slowly, he lowered it to the paper. The characters he wrote were simple. Not elaborate. But deliberate.
May I learn to be a better husband.
When he finished, he stood still for a moment. Then he carried the lantern to the waterâs edge. You watched quietly as he knelt beside the river. The lantern touched the surface gently before drifting away with the current. For a brief moment, the small flame illuminated his expression.
Thoughtful. Unusually serious. When he stood again, you spoke softly.
âMy lord made a wish as well?â
Sunghoon turned slightly toward you.
âYes.â
You tilted your head slightly.
âMay I ask what you prayed for?â
There was no teasing in your voice. Only quiet curiosity. Sunghoon looked toward the river again. His lantern had already begun drifting among the others.
ââŠFor this household,â he said after a moment.
âThat things may improve.â
You studied him briefly. Then you nodded once.
âThat is a good wish.â
Your answer was gentle. But simple. You did not ask further. Did not linger on the moment. And somehow that made the quiet between you feel heavier. Because for the first time since your marriage began, Sunghoon realized something he had not expected. He did not only wish for peace anymore. He wanted the marriage itself to change.
And for the first time⊠he was willing to try.
A/N : i just watched pursuit of jade and thought Linghe looks really good with traditional clothes, and i think Sunghoon remind me of him in some way, so i thought why not write something with traditional themes? Also, sorry if some the description may not accurate
Iâve never seen anything divide ARMY like this new comeback. Thereâs so much discourse online and itâs revealing a lot about how people analyze and critique media, music, and artists. This fandom isnât having productive and thought provoking conversations about ARIRANG, it just feels like a battlefield out here.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IF YOU HATE THE NEW UPDATE REBLOG THIS POST
[ PT; please for the love of god if you hate the new update reblog this post ]
I am organizing a lights out protest on tumblr, from March 20th 6AM UTC until March 21st 6AM UTC. It is best if as many tumblr users as possible can join this protest, as a mass downtime in users is the only way the tumblr staff will listen to us.
If you cherish this hellsite, participate. Do your bit. Every person counts.
Thank you for reading, and to @staff @changes: give us our tumblr back, or the people will migrate somewhere else. This is a threat.
TUMBLR'S RECENT UPDATE IS AWFUL AND WE SHOULD COMPLAIN LOUDER AGAINST IT.
Hey so, I thought maybe we should participate in a blackout day to protest against the new tumblr update.
Let's try March 19. So that people have time to see this and plan for it.
Do not log in or use tumblr for 24 on this day.
Reblog this and make a tag chain to maximise visbilityâthe more people aware of this awful update, the better.
Circle the date on your calendar, or set a reminder on your phone. As a bonus it will be a good break from social media. Spend the day doing things you likeâstart that book you've been waiting to read, go outside, watch a good movie... just do anything except open tumblr.
I think we should show tumblr that we are not happy with this update in every possible way we can.
File support tickets with feedback (SEE BELOW ON HOW TO SEND FEEDBACK), post about how this update makes you feel, reblog other's posts about this update, offer as detailed and honest feedback as possible to tumblrâWE DO NOT WANT THIS UPDATE!!
Remember that WE are the end consumers.
WE build their platform, WE fill it with posts, WE are the reason they generate revenue, WE are the reason this platform has power, and for these reasons WE should feel satisfied with the service they provide. ESPECIALLY if you pay for tumblr premium, you are entitled to make a complaint about the platform you are PAYING.
I used to like tumblr and I'd like to cling to it, but this update is just horrible. It makes me not want to continue posting at all. It is utterly demotovating as-is with my being mature labelled, but this update is just intolerable. I do not know how I will feel motivated to post at all in the future if this update is not rolled back.
I know I don't have much reach, especially with a label on, but I hope this reaches at least a few people.
Please participate if you care. Please reblog and tag people you know. Send every bit of feedback to tumblr that you possibly can.
I really don't want to see my once favorite site ruined beyond repair. I really want to continue enjoying this site. I have a community of people here which I have built over years, a community which I deeply love and appreciate and cherish interacting with. My blog thrives on being able to see feedback in reblogs on my post. The whole point of posting is that people see it and engage with it. This update is at best nonsensical and at worst, going to shred off many creators from the platform and rip apart any last bits of fun we have using it.
SEE BELOW for more information on the update & how to send a support ticket to give feedback.
HOW TO SEND FEEDBACK THROUGH SUPPORT TICKETS
Go to tumblr support
Select the category "feedback"
Write in formal, polite toneâtry not to sound rude, but constructive and earnest about how dissatisfied you feel about the update and its effects
EXAMPLE: I am writing regarding tumblr's recent update. I am not happy with this feature and do not see myself enjoying the platform with this being implemented. Please rollback this update.
IMPORTANT LINKS
Comment your feedback on tumblr's twitter
Here is the original tumblr post stating the update change
This post by @thatlittleegyptologist explains the effects of the update
Dear tumblr please listen to our feedback and rollback this update.
shitlift outright admitting that the schedule they themselves created is so extreme that members cannot pursue solo projects literally every idol eventually explores while remaining in the group⊠and instead of adjusting that schedule, they would rather lose their own center and main vocalist⊠like genuinely think about how absurd that is.
also the message that sends to the remaining members is very clear: if you want to pursue solo work, you cannot do it here while staying in the group.
like the more statements they put out the more they damn themselves, and i cantttttt understand how anyone who claims to care about these boys can look at this and remain neutral or whatever else⊠even if you want to believe this was ultimately heeseungâs choice (and he has every right if it were his choice⊠do you understand that these boys are being overworked to hell???), how can you overlook the blatant mismanagement being spelled out right in front of you? AGAIN: this demonic company is openly admitting they would rather maintain an unsustainable schedule and EXPLOIT these boys than properly support the artists that built their success. like make it make sense
Jokes aside, there are so many mixed emotions about the news of Heeseung leaving Enhypen.
I am devastated, truly heartbroken. On the other hand, I know this wasnât an easy decision for him. Heeseung deserves to be able to pursue his dreams. We see everyday he has a passion for music not just the idol lifestyle. I hope Engenes come to understand and support him.
This is ultimately a fault of Belift, not Heeseung. Other companies can balance the group and an artistâs solo career, but we already know how the company grossly mismanages Enhypen. Things likely could have turned out differently if they honestly had both the groupâs and the individual membersâ best interests at heart.
Thank you, Heeseung! Engenes are still here for you!
genre:Â royalty au, soulmate au, fantasy elements, friends to lovers, angst
word count:Â 20.7k
warnings:Â jealousy, copious amounts of yearning, complicated family dynamics, swearing, magic and prophecies and other fantasy elements, arranged marriage, mild depictions of injuries and blood, a disgustingly romantic kiss
soundtrack: echoes - enhypen / no way back - enhypen ft. So!YoON! / ivy - taylor swift / too much is never enough - florence & the machine / if only - raveena / die 4 u - dean
note: Here it is! The second and final part to echoes. If you haven't already, read the first part (which you can find on my masterlist). If you have, then buckle up and enjoyyyyy âĄ
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
In a kingdom marred by instability and unrest, a prophecy is made. Your bloodline - common, ordinary, unremarkable as it may be - will bring peace to the nation and ensure the long-lasting success of the royal family. As such, your elder sister has been in an arranged engagement with Jungwon, the crown prince, since before either of you could walk.
But despite the prophecy, people continue to suffer. The kingdom continues to decline. Cracks continue to form. And when time eventually reveals that you, not her, have a strange, supernatural connection to the prince, everything begins to change.
or, youâre in my head like echoes. I donât know how to let go.
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
Jaeyun is pacing when you finally pull Nabiâs reigns to a halt, the city unfolding beneath you as you finish your ascent up the familiar hill. This time, however, you have one overly curious crown prince in tow.
â___,â Jaeyun breathes as you dismount. âFinally. What happened? Why are you so laââ
The word dies on his lips as Jungwon follows in your wake, carried by Maeum. Even without his crown, he rides with the unmistakable posture of a royal. You do your best not to wince.
âWho the fuck,â Jaeyunâs lips flatten into a tight line, âis that?â
âJaeyun, look at me,â you plead. âYou have to promise me youâll listen.â
But his eyes are already past your shoulders, watching Jungwon dismount with a practiced grace.Â
Immediately, he straightens his spine. Neither him nor Jungwon is particularly tall, but the way he stretches his neck makes you think heâs hoping for a sudden growth spurt. Â
âListen,â you try again, urgent to say as much as you can before Jungwon has the chance to approach. âI promise Iâll explain everything later, but itâs okay. Really. It sounds absolutely inconceivable, I know, but this isââ
âItâs a pleasure to make your acquaintance,â Jungwon interrupts, although his tone is rather tight. Stepping forward, he doesnât stop until heâs in line with your shoulder, directly at your side. âI am Crown Prince Yang Jungwon, son of the king and heir to the throne. May I know with whom I am conversing?â
Jaeyunâs gaze slides to you, a mix of incredulous and shocked. âYou have got to be fucking kidding me.â
âJungwon,â you hiss, âI think Maeum might want a treat.â Pulling a carrot from your bag, you all but shove it into his hands. âWhy donât you go feed him and meet us back here in a minute.â
Jaeyunâs mouth is still hanging open. âYouâre on a first name basis with the fucking prince?â
Much to your horror, Jungwon opens his mouth as if he wants to answer that question for you.Â
âPlease,â you beg before he has the chance.Â
Letting his lips fall shut, he gives a minute nod. Looking only at you, he concedes. âVery well.âÂ
Jaeyun watches him retreat, shock still widening his features. And then, once heâs made it a few paces awayâ
âWhat, and I really do mean this, on the graves of my ancestors, do you think youâre doing?â
âItâs a terribly long story,â you try to explain. âBut I wasnât going to be able to come tonight unless he came too. But listen, Jaeyun. He found out. About the resistance network and me sneaking out from the castle at night. He discovered all of it.â
âWhat?â Youâve never seen your friend so pale.Â
âBut itâs okay.â Switching to a whisper, you add, âAt least I think it is. He says he wants to be different, Jaeyun. Heâs not his father. He wants to listen to his people. Learn the problems of the kingdom and make a true attempt at resolving them.â
âAnd you believe him? Are they putting something in the castle water supply? What are you thinking?â
âIâm thinking about what you said. About how maybe sometimes we just have to believe in something to make it real. You said it yourself. Everyoneâs desperate for a chance at a better future. A little bit of hope. What if this, what if he, is exactly that?â
âThatâs⊠Heâs the prince, ___.â
âExactly. What if this didnât all have to be some dark, treasonous attempt to change things? What if we could work with someone with real power instead of just of against them?â His expression is still marred with distrust, and you canât blame him entirely. âLook, I donât know how fully I trust him yet either, but I do believe that he wants to try making things better. Iâll pass you the notes I have. You can review them later, if you want. I havenât shown him anything. But,â you add, âhe is expecting some information. I was planning to just divulge something small, but if youâd prefer, we can feed him a lie. See what he does with it and reassess from there. Maybe just something small to stââ
You wouldnât dare.Â
You freeze as if youâve been submerged in water. Itâs him again. Wincing, you adjust your neck, as if that can make the sensation of whispers against your ear disappear.Â
âWhat?â Jaeyun frowns. âWhat is it?â
âNothing.â You shake your head. âI justââ
Youâll tell me the truth. The reports you have. All of them. I donât care what your friend thinks.Â
Forcing a smile for Jaeyun, you direct a scathing return message.Â
Would you stop that?
What? Even in your head, he manages to sound smug. Should I have just walked over an interrupted instead? Iâm happy to, if you prefer it so. Maeumâs done eating.Â
He doesnât bother waiting for a response. Before you can send any thoughts his way, Jungwon is once again taking long strides until heâs at your side.Â
âJungwon,â you breathe. If tension were tangible, you would be able to cut the space between them with a knife. âThis is Jaeyun. Jaeyun, this is Jungwon.â
âPrince Jungwon,â he corrects.Â
That little shit. âI thought you werenât interested in maintaining titles.â
âIâm not,â he agrees. âWith you.â
You can practically see the vein throbbing in Jaeyunâs neck.Â
âThatâs not how this works.â You shake your head. âIn our resistance efforts, weâre all equal. Status doesnât exist, much less matter. If you truly want to be part of this, youâll have to follow our rules.â
âVery well,â he agrees. âJust Jungwon will suffice then.â A beat of silence passes. Jaeyun looks to you, a mix of helplessness and agitation. âWell,â Jungwon finally speaks. âDonât let me stop you. What reports have you received this week?â
Sighing, you pull your notes from your pocket. âLetâs sit.â
Sat on the grass, the three of you form a haphazard circle. In the center of it, you place your first gathered tidbit.Â
âFrom the kitchens,â you explain. âJâ I mean, the informantââ
âWho?â Jungwonâs mouth pulls down in thought. âJay?â
You balk. âHow did youâ?â
You practically shouted it at me.Â
Even as you look at him, confirm with your own two eyes the respectable distance between your bodies, you canât help the heat that rises on your cheeks at the uncanny sensation of him whispering directly into your ear.Â
Itâs hard not to panic at the insinuation. You resolve to keep a tighter reign on your thoughts.Â
âAnyway,â you press on. âJay told me that theyâve been using potatoes in almost every meal, despite the kingâs insistence on variety. It could point to crop shortages, or at least a lack of diversification. Sunoo confirmed this.â You pull out another report. âHe looked through the ledgers, and potato crops have replaced multiple vegetables, both in the castleâs private gardens and in the fields allocated for common food production.âÂ
Jungwon frowns. âI hadnât even noticed. We have been eating more potatoes than usual.â
âRevolutionary,â Jaeyun drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm. âLife must be so hard for you.â
âBut in a recent agricultural strategy meeting,â Jungwon presses on, ignoring him, âthe senior groundskeeper advised this switch. He explained that the relatively lower cost and high nutritional profile of potatoes would mean a higher overall food production, especially in the common fields. Itâs a good thing, no?â
âThat is one possible explanation,â you agree. âJaeyun, has there been any increase in food rations? Or potatoes specifically?â
Jaeyun shakes his head. âI wouldnât call it an increase, exactly. Rations are just more limited now. The only vegetable most people can access is potatoes. The overall amount is comparable to before. If anything, itâs actually slightly lower, especially in the outer districts.â
âSo the switch to potatoes may be an effort to bring more food to people,â Jungwon starts.Â
âBut overall production is still likely decreasing,â you finish for him.Â
âWell, hopefully full production will be restored soon,â Jaeyun adds. âWith your wedding approaching so soon.â He nods towards Jungwon.Â
The two of you freeze, equally statuesque where you sit in the grass. Youâre not sure why it catches you so completely off guard. The man at your side is to be married in less than a month. And youâve had an entire life to become accustomed to that knowledge. Still, something in you stirs at the reminder. Something not entirely pleasant.
 Jungwon is the one to gain his composure again first.Â
Looking at you, he ventures, âYou told him of the prophecy?â You canât quite decipher if the narrowness of his gaze is scrutiny or disapproval. Either way, your answer remains.
âOf course,â you nod. âI trust him with my life.â
âThat prophecy,â Jungwon begins, âwas made by a seer on her deathbed, far before any of us were old enough to understand the gravity of it. Of course,â he reasons, and you see his training in diplomacy bleeding through the cracks, âI hope nothing more than for it to be true. I hope, with every fiber of my being, that this union will bring unshakeable peace and abundance to our kingdom. But,â he pauses, gathering his thoughts. You see a lone muscle in his jaw tick. âIn a monthâs time, I will wear a different crown on my head. Regardless of what magic may awaken, this kingdom and its people will be in my care. It is my duty to be informed and prepared, regardless of the manner in which this prophecy may or may not manifest.â
You admire it, the way he speaks with such conviction. Heâs well-spoken, yes, but his words are rough around the edges. They lack the polish of rehearsal. Youâre confident that when he speaks, itâs from the heart.Â
âThatâs probably wise,â is all Jaeyun says, but you can tell heâs more satisfied with Jungwonâs response than he expected to be.Â
As the night continues to deepen, the three of you go through the rest of the reports in a similar fashion. At some points, youâre pleasantly surprised by Jungwonâs perspective. His attendance at royal strategy meetings offers an insight you and Jaeyun arenât accustomed to.Â
By the end of it, Jaeyunâs eyes arenât burning with quite as much hatred, his words arenât dripping with quite as much distrust, as when you started.Â
Still, hours later, he catches your gaze. Dawn is on the horizon, and the town beneath you is just beginning to stir. Your unlikely trio is too exhausted to ponder any more hypotheses, to create any more plans for change.Â
When Jungwon stands to check on Maeum, Jaeyunâs gaze follows him. And then his eyes slide to you. âI still donât like it.â
âI donât expect you to.â You smile ruefully. Exhaustion weighs heavy on your bones. âThanks for doing it anyway.â
âHeâsâŠâ His eyes fall to the space over your shoulder before returning to you. âHeâs weird around you.â
âHeâs just like that.â You roll your eyes. âYou know royals. I think we ought to give him some grace. Growing up with those expectations on your shoulders must make anyone a little strange.â
âI donât mean it like that,â Jaeyun shakes his head. You donât like the way heâs looking at you, as if heâs trying to dissect your very thoughts. âYouâre weird around him, too.â
âIâm not weird,â you deny, even though the observation has something uncomfortable settling in your gut.Â
âJustâŠâ He trails off, searching for the right words. âJust be careful, okay? And be safe. Youâll send a note next time youâre ready to meet?â
âOf course,â you agree. âJust like always.â
âYou wonât keep me waiting too long, will you?â
You grin. Scoffing, you reach out to push against his shoulder lightly. âDo I ever?â
A bit of playfulness drains from his gaze. Jaeyun is far too serious for your liking when he responds, âAlways.â
A glimmer of confusion flickers across your face. âIâll do my best,â you promise, not entirely sure what else to say.Â
âGood,â he nods. âIâll see you soon.â
Spinning on your heel to meet Jungwon near the horses, you hear your name once again.Â
Turning your head back to Jaeyun, youâre surprised to find him already closing the distance. He brings his hands up, lets one land on your shoulder as he spins you fully, pulling you close as he brings you into a hug thatâs almost crushing.Â
âBe safe,â he whispers again, this time against your hair. You feel the way his mouth moves against the crown of your head.Â
Behind you, a throat clears. Itâs loud in the predawn stillness.Â
Jaeyun lets you go. Slowly, as if he doesnât want to. As if he isnât quite ready to say goodbye.Â
But your brain is exhausted and your body is heavy. Youâre too tired to ponder it now. Instead, you follow Jungwon, accepting the hand he offers in assistance as you mount Nabi.
Handing you the reins, his fingers brush yours. Linger for just a fraction of a second. Â
âGoodbye, ___.â Jaeyun calls one last time. You wave to him, a small smile on your lips.Â
âJungwon,â he nods, with decidedly less warmth in his eyes.Â
âJaeyun,â he returns, inclining his head in a small bow.Â
And then, just as the day begins to break over the horizon, the two of you begin your journey back to the castle, Jaeyun fading further and further until heâs nothing but a speck in the distance.Â
âŠ..
The following weeks continue in a similar fashion.Â
Despite the strangeness of it all, the unlikely routine surrounding Jungwon, Jaeyun, and the other palace informants you keep in touch with begins to feel routine.Â
Your sister wiggles her way in, too. With the wedding drawing closer and closer, youâve been asked to attend more dress fittings, more cake tastings, and more salon appointments that you can count with your fingers.Â
Oddly enough, the impending ceremony has yet to make its way into a conversation between you and Jungwon. Other than Jaeyunâs brief mention on the hilltop, both with your words and inside your minds, the subject has never been breached.Â
But as the days continue, your abilities sharpen. Until speaking to him through your mind becomes almost second nature. Even when the physical distance between you is significant.Â
Where are you now? He asks one afternoon, nearly startling you off of Nabiâs saddle.Â
Riding, you tell him. And you?
In a meeting. Defense strategy. Terribly boring, I fear.Â
Pay attention, you urge. You might learn something useful.Â
Or I might perish before the hour is done. Tell me, ___, have you ever heard of a person dying of boredom?Â
You roll your eyes. Donât be dramatic.Â
Easy for you to say. Youâre out riding. Iâd kill to be out with Maeum right now.Â
Iâm sure you would.Â
A moment of silence passes. And then, Where are you going, anyway? Just taking her out for some exercise?
No, you explain. Iâm going to see Jaeyun.Â
RIGHT NOW? Itâs difficult to describe, the sensation of someone shouting at you inside your own skull. You can practically feel the way he suddenly sits up straight in his seat. Itâs daytime. Are you trying to get caught?
Relax, you urge. Iâm allowed to leave the castle. Iâm not a prisoner. And now that I have a horse of my own, I donât have to steal someone elseâs. Besides, a daytime errand will draw far less suspicion than a midnight one, no?
Still. Itâs not safe.Â
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Iâll be fine.Â
With what? That tiny dagger you carry around? I doubt you even know how to use it.Â
Of course I know how to use it.Â
Really? Heâs goading you now. How?
With the pointy end.Â
The silence is deafening.Â
Youâre incredibly irritating.
Me? If you were face-to-face, your mouth would drop open in indignance. Iâm not the one interrupting a perfectly lovely afternoon ride right now.Â
You should consider yourself lucky, he argues. And let me know when youâre back. Iâll have to add dagger lessons to my schedule today.Â
Yes, Your Highness.
Weâre back to this again?
Well, you are ordering me around.
Iâm trying to keep you alive.Â
A noble task.
I think youâll find Iâm very altruistic. AlthoughâŠ
What?
I do rather prefer it when you say my name.
Despite the fact that the conversation is in your brain, thereâs nothing imaginary about the way your heart skips a beat.Â
Very well. Yes, Jungwon.Â
Much better.
If you didnât know any better, youâd think he was smiling. Â
Jungwon is waiting for you when you return to the castle. This time, you arenât blindfolded for your descent into his secret chamber.Â
Although, you are rather distracted for other reasons. Youâre not sure youâd be able to remember your way on your own.Â
The two of you fall into silence. It isnât uncomfortable, exactly, but something in you is restless, begging to fill it.Â
âAll is well with you?â You ask, turning down yet another impossibly maze-like corridor. Jungwon walks in step with you, following your stride, matching your pace.Â
âAs well as it can be, I suppose.â But he sighs on the final syllable.Â
Not for the first time, you consider what daily life must be like for him. Strategy meetings, physical training, preparations for his upcoming coronation. For his wedding. It must be tiring in a way even you canât quite imagine.Â
âYour coronation is less than a month away now, no?â Your words are quiet, not loud enough to echo in the halls. âYou must be quite busy.â
âThereâs much to prepare,â Jungwon agrees. âAlthough the majority of it does not fall under my scope of duty, actually.â
âThatâs a relief.â Your words trail off into silence again. Only the sound of light, quick footsteps fills the space. And then, âAnd your⊠your wedding?â
Beside you, Jungwonâs steps nearly falter. Heâs quick to correct the error. If you hadnât been watching, you would have missed it.Â
âWith that,â he finally says, voice quiet but sure, âI have even less involvement.â
He, much like you, does not seem interested in pressing the topic further.Â
Instead, after a few more paces, he informs, âWeâre nearly there.âÂ
You havenât yet begun the descent, but you suppose that is the final step.Â
Desperate to bring back a bit of the lightheartedness, you ask, âYouâre not going to blindfold me this time?â
âDonât tempt me.â Jungwon smiles.Â
But your sight remains intact as you round one final corner, feet coming to stop in front of a nondescript door.Â
Jungwon steps forward, hand wrapping around the handle as he heaves it open. The lithe muscles of his back strain beneath his shirt with the effort.Â
In front of you is a set of stairs. Peering into the darkness, light swallows your line of sight before you can see where they end.Â
âI suppose itâs a bit ironic to ask if youâre afraid of the dark.â
All you offer is a knowing smile. You might be accustomed to the dark, and yet, your heart is pounding. âAfter you,â you nod.Â
The downward climb doesnât feel quite so long the second time. Eyes forward, you can barely make out Jungwonâs shadowy silhouette in front of you. Instead, you focus on keeping your footsteps measured, even. The last thing you need is to go tumbling down these stairs.Â
After a matter of minutes, the two of you finally reach the bottom.Â
Jungwon strikes a flint and uses it to ignite the first torch.Â
You watch, in nearly as much awe as the first time, as the flame sets off a chain reaction, one torch giving light to the next. Before the next minute is done, the room is bathed in a warm glow once again.Â
Glancing around, you canât help but offer a compliment. âYou have excellent taste in secret chambers.â
âItâs not much,â is all he says. But the slight flush dusted across his cheekbones disagrees. After a moment, he clears his throat, then adds, âSo, about that dagger.â
âI told you,â you remind, âI already know how to use it.â
âIâm afraid I donât find âwith the pointy endâ satisfactory evidence of that statement.â
âStill,â you protest, âI donât nââ
Are we going to argue all evening or will you just allow me this one peace of mind?
He doesnât ask you out loud. And despite the growing familiarity of your connection, you canât help but gasp at the sudden sensation of his words against your ear.Â
âVery well,â you tell him, not daring to use your mind.Â
Bending down, you begin to lift the hem of your skirt to retrieve the weapon strapped to your light.Â
Across from you, the crown prince of the kingdom coughs. Loudly.Â
When you look up to ensure heâs okay, you find his gaze already pointedly averted. That same pink flush is rising high on his cheekbones, this time more pronounced.Â
Undeterred, you free the blade from the holster at your thigh, letting your skirts fall back into place.Â
âSo,â you begin, âother than the pointy end, what should I be aware of?â
Jungwonâs gaze is still lost somewhere on the tapestries on the opposite side of the room from you. You watch as he takes a long, shaky breath before turning back to face you.Â
With a voice that only trembles slightly, he says, âShow me.â
Your brow furrows in confusion. He sighs. Adds, âShow me how you would hold your dagger, if approached by an enemy.â
Frowning, you begin to sink into a stance that feels natural. Knees bent, you try to keep your weight evenly distributed between both legs. Extend the dagger outwards, it does feel more foreign in your hand than youâd like to admit.Â
Jungwon turns his eyes to the ceiling, expression marked with exasperation. âGods have mercy on us all,â he mutters beneath his breath. âThe pointy end.â
Turning back to you, he assesses you once again. âThatâs a good way to get disarmed.â
Despite yourself, you bristle at the insult. âDonât be dramatââ
In one silent movement, heâs lunging towards you, knocking the dagger from your outstretched hand. It clatters to the carpeted floor with a muted thud.Â
Mouth open in surprise, you bend down to reach for it. Jungwon beats you to it. Before you can retrieve your weapon, he kicks it, just outside your reach.Â
Then, with a flourish youâre positive is more for show than function, Jungwon stomps on the handle, sending the blade spinning upwards into the air and landing perfectly between his fingers.Â
For a moment, shock renders you immobile. It all happened so fast, and your mind spins to keep up. Finally, you cross your arms over your chest.Â
âThatâs hardly fair. I doubt most of my foes will have spent years training in royal⊠theatrical dagger flipping.â You wave him off dismissively.Â
âDonât underestimate them.â Jungwon shakes his head. âThere has been nearly constant small-scale warfare along every one of our borders for as long as anyone can remember. Youâd be surprised what a man learns to do with a blade when he has things to protect.â He pauses for a moment, considering. âAlthough youâre not entirely wrong. I am highly competent in most forms of combat.â
âAnd exceedingly humble about it, too,â you mumble lowly.Â
Ignoring you, Jungwon presses forward. âFor you, weâll focus on the basics. Your stance is too low. Try not to bend your knees so much.â
Sinking back into your stance, you make an effort to keep your legs straighter.Â
âGood,â Jungwon praises, âbut youâre still too tense. A dagger can only be used in very close combat. You need to be agile, light on your feet. Ready to move at a moment's notice. Before your opponent can predict it.â
Exhaling slowly, you try to release tension from your lower body.Â
You must be at least somewhat successful, because the only feedback Jungwon offers is a small nod of approval.
âAnd your arms,â Jungwon continues. âYouâre holding them out too far. Your movements have to be quick, precise. You have no control when your limbs are extended. Keep them close to your body and only reach at the final moment of your attack.â
Nodding, you draw your arms up again, this time keeping them close to your chest.Â
âRight,â Jungwon nods. âLike that.â Stepping closer to you, he doesnât stop until he stands directly before you, close enough to touch. Taking the dagger, he places it back into your hand, wrapping your fingers around the handle.Â
Heâs still in your space. If he were to learn just a few inches closer, it would be just like it is when he speaks in your mind. His words ghosting along the shell of your ear.Â
âOut there,â he says, âyour most likely enemy will be a man. Brute force and strength are on their side. You have to be quick,â he advises. âAnd you have to use this.â Reaching up, he taps the side of your temple with his fingertip. âYou have to be smarter than them. Faster, on your feet and in your mind. Keep your core braced. Keep your chest up and your chin down. Aim for the weak points on the body, and keep yours protected.â
Heâs so close. You can see the way his eyelashes flutter as he blinks. His voice grows more fervent as his instructions continue. âIf circumstances allow, you run. All the way back here.â He inhales, a shadow crossing his features. âAnd if they donât, you protect yourself at all costs. Even if it means doing the unthinkable. And with whatever is left in your mind, you scream for me. Do you understand?â
Your breath is shallow in your chest. âYou act as though Iâve been getting in dagger fights daily. Iâve never evenââ
âDo you understand?â He repeats, cutting you off.Â
âYes,â you breathe, taken aback by the urgency in his tone. âI understand.â
âGood.â The lesson is over, the agreement is done, but he doesnât back away.Â
Itâs all a bit preposterous, this strange version of reality your life has become. You wonder what Jaeyun would say, if you told him you were receiving private dagger lessons from the crown prince himself. You wonder what Mina would sayâ
Mina.Â
Itâs as if youâve been doused in a bucket of water from the lake in the dead of wintertime.Â
Youâre not doing anything⊠untoward, but Jungwonâs proximity is suddenly a difficult thing to miss. While she prepares for a wedding, you meet her fiancee in secret chambers. Letting him crowd your space as he insists on keeping you safe.Â
Itâs necessary, you tell yourself. Not treasonous in the slightest. And yet. Something unpleasant simmers in your gut at the thought of your sister ever becoming privy to any of it.Â
Disentangling yourself from the prince, you step backwards until reasonable space separates the two of you once again.Â
âItâs getting late,â you say, even though you have no concept of time this far from the sunlight. âWe should return.â
âIndeed,â Jungwon nods. âI will escort you back to your chambers.â
âThat wonât be necessary,â you assure. âBesides, as you said, itâs probably best that the two of us are not seen together.âÂ
Jungwon just shakes his head softly. âI know this castle more intimately than you could imagine. We will not be seen.â
Despite the nature of your relationship, something in you still hesitates to go against his wishes. And deeper yet, something in you mourns the thought of parting ways.Â
âVery well,â you nod.
True to his word, the path Jungwon leads is winding in its secrecy. You pass forgotten hallways, echoing chambers, an atrium filled with dust reflected by the starlight above.Â
After long minutes, you tell him, âI never knew any of this existed.â
âItâs by design,â he nods. âThese passageways are intentionally difficult to navigate. Full of dead ends and false doors and hidden detours. You can reach nearly every corner of the castle this way.â
âReally?â Your eyes widen. âWhere are we now?â
âJust behind the throne room, actually. Itâs empty now, of course, butââ
Suddenly, you hear the sound of voices, muffled but near. Jungwonâs words die on his tongue.Â
The two of you turn towards one another, equal expressions of confusion on your faces. Jungwon motions you silently forward a few more steps.Â
Pressing your ear to the wall, the voices are still still difficult to make out, although you do catch some fractured fragments.Â
â...Proceeding as normally,â you hear one voice say, âconsiderations to be made in regards to the dowryâŠâ
You frown. A dowry? The only upcoming wedding of royal concern is your sisterâs, and it has long been accepted that her hand comes with no dowry.
âAvoiding retaliation,â the voice continues, â...ensuring the union can be blessed without formal annulment.â
Your frown deepens. Turning to look at Jungwon, you wonder if he can make sense of any of this.Â
âAnd the prince?â you hear a voice ask.Â
The response is too muffled to catch.Â
â...New trade routes, and a strong, unified ally,â is the last thing you manage to make out, until the voices fade, further and further. Then, theyâre gone entirely.Â
You part your lips to speak. Jungwon just shakes his head, a deep line etched between his eyebrows. Wordlessly, he begins to move forward again. You follow silently.Â
A handful of moments later, the two of you reach a dark alcove. Only then does Jungwon stop, turning to face you.Â
âWhat was that?â you ask, still not daring to speak louder than a whisper.Â
âI donât know.â Jungwon shakes his head. âBut one of those voices belonged to my father. The other, I cannot be sure.â
His father. The king.Â
âWhy was your father speaking of marriage dowries?â you wonder, trying not to let unease settle too heavily. Maybe thereâs a perfectly logical explanation for all of it. âAnd annulments?Â
But Jungwonâs expression is no reassurance. âI have no idea.â
Despite yourself, a seedling of distrust begins to sprout at the edge of your mind. Regardless of what claims he makes about trying to rule the kingdom with a gentler hand, the man in front of you is the prince. There are far more things that would motivate him to remain loyal to his father than to you.Â
âTruly?â you ask. âNone at all?â
Jungwon bristles, as if he can sense your thoughts. âYes, truly. As I told you before, I have little to do with this marriage besides finding my place at the end of the aisle.â
âOkay,â you placate him. âOkay. I just donât understand the purpose of such discussions. Considering the involvement of my sister, Iâm sure you can understand my unease.â
Jungwon sighs, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. âI do understand. But I swear to you, on this matter, I truly know nothing.â
âWell then,â your eyes meet his, âI suppose weâll just have to find someone who does.â
Your search begins fruitlessly.Â
It starts with Jay, who has heard nothing. And in an unfortunate stroke of bad luck, heâs been tasked by the king himself with locating a rare fruit that hasnât grown locally for nearly a century. Although Jay makes time to talk to you, his answers are short and his time is limited as he tells you he cannot be late for his meeting with the royal importer.Â
Sunoo is equally clueless. You know crops have little to do with marriages, and you leave the fields empty handed and thoroughly disappointed.Â
Even Riki, who has the most direct involvement with the upcoming wedding, has no information for you. Dressmaking is proceeding normally, and no strange royal orders have reached his ears.Â
When he offers to let you try on your gown, you wave him off. âLater.â
âAre you sure?â he asks. âItâs absolutely gorgeous. Even more than I thought it would be. I think youâre going to love it.â
But youâre already halfway out the door. Â
Walking through the gardens as fast as your legs will carry you, you make a beeline for the stables. The sun is just beginning to dip on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the earth.Â
Were your head less jumbled, perhaps you could enjoy it more.Â
Frustrated to no end at all of the dead ends, you figure maybe a ride with Nabi will help to clear your thoughts. But when you finally reach the stable, youâre not the only one paying a visit to the horses.Â
This time, it is no crown prince that disturbs your peace.Â
âSunghoon,â you startle, even though youâre the one that snuck up on him.
â___,â he turns to greet you. âItâs been a while. How is Nabi doing for you?âÂ
âSheâs perfect,â you nod. âI couldnât have selected a better horse myself.âÂ
âThe prince does have excellent taste,â he agrees. His words surprise you. You suppose Jungwon did say he asked Sunghoon to look after Nabi in the daytime, but something about the stable hand knowing the crown prince all but gifted you a horse has you shifting your weight uncomfortably.Â
âSo does her owner,â you nod to the horse currently in Sunghoonâs care. With light, fur that shines even in dying light, she truly is a sight to see. With short golden fur, sheâs not as stark white as Maeum, but sheâs just as striking within her own right.Â
âSheâs a beauty, isnât she,â Sunghoon agrees. âPrincesses tend to be picky.â
âPrincesses?â you echo. Jungwon has no siblings, no sisters to speak of. And he is not yet married. Unless youâve missed something terribly important, the kingdom has no princess.Â
Sunghoon nods. âThe princess from the northern kingdom. Her horse has been sent here to be cared for. To acclimate.â
âAcclimate?â At this point, youâre little more than a parrot. But why would the princess of the northern kingdom send her horse here to acclimate? Even if she were part of some political envoy or trade negotiation, it wouldn't make sense to send a horse here for such a short visit.Â
Sunghoon only shrugs. âI only know what Iâve been told. Iâve been asked to take good care of this horse until future notice.âÂ
âRight,â you nod, gears in your mind beginning to spin. âItâs alright if I take Nabi out?â
âOf course,â he concedes. âSheâs all yours.â
You wait until the castle is far enough away for comfort. No stray patrols or royal guards to be seen. And then you send a message.Â
Meet me at the edge of the forest outside the eastern gate. As soon as you can.
It takes less than a heartbeat for his response to come to you.
Iâm on my way.Â
âŠ..
Jaeyun is already waiting for you by the time you reach the hilltop. Again, the greeting he gives you is far warmer than the one he offers the prince, but your mind is far too jumbled to notice.Â
A handful of moments later, the three of you are sitting, facing each other in a loosely formed circle. And then you tell them what you know. All of it.Â
You tell Jaeyun what you and Jungwon heard, that night in the secret alcove. The voice of the king, discussing dowries and allies.Â
You tell them both about what you just heard from Sunghoon - the princess of the northern kingdomâs horse that has been placed in his care. To acclimate.Â
At that, the crease between Jungwonâs eyebrows becomes so deep you have to fight the urge to smooth it away with your fingertips.Â
âDid you visit the kitchens?â he asks.
âYes,â you nod. âBut Jay didnât have much to tell me. He was busy actually. Something about a rare fruit.â
Jaeyun nods, waving it off as dismissively as you had. But Jungwonâs frown remains.Â
âWhat fruit?â
âHm?â Youâre not sure why youâre wasting time on this, when other matters feel far more pressing. âI donât remember. Something exotic, I think. He said heâd have to talk with the royal importer.â
Jungwon wonât let it go. âWas it moonberry?â
âYeah,â you nod slowly. âThat does sound right, actually. Why? Do you know it?â
Jungwon nods, jaw tight. âIt used to grow in the northern kingdom in abundance. Until they destroyed nearly all of their natural flora and fauna nearly three decades ago. Now, itâs considered a rare delicacy. Itâs⊠itâs common, in marriage gifts for noble families.â
âOhâŠâ you trail off, trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. âThat could be fine, then. Maybe theyâre just preparing a gift. For Mina.â
Jungwon shakes his head. âIt is not a tradition in our kingdom.â He avoids your gaze when he adds, âOnly in the northern kingdom.â
âThat doesnât make sense.â Your hands flip in exasperation. Turning to Jungwon, you add, âUnless you have some secret brother none of us know about, the only royal marriage happening anytime soon is between you and my sister. Thereâs no reason for the king to be thinking of dowries or preparing royal marriage giftsââ
Jaeyun is the one to interrupt. âUnless theyâre not planning for the marriage to last.â
âWhat do you mean?â Your eyes widen, voice thinning. âTaking more than one wife is forbidden. And royal marriages cannot be annulled once the sacred oaths are taken.â
Jaeyunâs gaze holds no joy. But it does offer a fraction of understanding. âUnlessâŠâ
Jungwonâs gaze snaps to his, a flicker of shock crossing his features. Between them, something passes. A realization still outside of your grasp.
âUnless what?â you ask.Â
Jaeyun remains silent, something pained in his eyes when he turns to look at you.Â
The desperation in his gaze only makes you panic further. âUnless what?â you repeat.Â
âUnless my wife is dead,â Jungwon finally says, eyes trained directly on you. âThere is no violation of the sacred oaths,â pausing for a moment, he repeats, âif my wife is dead.â
For a moment, the space around you is still. It doesnât make sense. It doesnât.Â
Mina was discovered; she was brought to the castle to be the bride of the future king. To fulfill the prophecy the king worked so hard to obtain.Â
Sheâs a promise, a beacon of peace and prosperity. Of course the king would have every reason to protect her, to ensure that any enemies never have the chance to touch so much as a hair on her head.Â
So why on earth would the king feel the need to make alternative arrangements? To prepare for her death? There might be instability among the people, yes, but there has been no real insurrection. It doesnât make sense.Â
You cannot think of anyone in the kingdom who would want her dead, and even less of someone who would have the ability to do so.Â
Mina is protected by the castle, by the crown.Â
No one would be able to end her life except forâ
No. You donât say it out loud, but Jungwonâs eyes turn to you all the same.
âTheyâre going to kill her.â Itâs hardly a whisper, but in the silence of the hilltop, it feels like youâre screaming. Realizations are churning through your mind, dots connecting in a way that makes you sick. âThe king never had full faith in the prophecy. Heâs been planning this. But he couldnât just abandon the marriage fully, just in case the seer was right. He wants to see this marriage through but it isnât enough for him.â
Your voice mounts in desperation, every sickening realization like a blade against your heart. âHe still wants more. More resources. More power. Peace and prosperity were never enough. A common girl with no name and no gold was never going to be allowed to rule alongside his only son.â
You donât know much of the northern kingdom. Neither friend nor foe, your neighbors have only limited interactions with you, primarily in the form of trade.Â
Even that is kept quite discreet, as their⊠methods used in ruling are far from favorable. Torture, forced servitude, food rations that are become even more scarce than your own.Â
The northern kingdom has funneled its resources into only two things over the last handful of decades: the royalsâ lavish lifestyles and its increasingly large military.Â
Theyâve accumulated massive amounts of wealth and power through terrible means. The thought of Jungwonâs father idolizing their methods, of killing your sister for a chance to superimpose them here, is enough to have your stomach rolling with nausea.Â
âOr maybe thereâs something weâre missing,â Jaeyun suggests. âThis prophecy⊠so much seems to be riding on it? I know the gist, but what does it say exactly?â
âI donât know.â You shrug, helpless. âIâve never heard the original form. I was only told that we were brought to the castle to ensure the prosperity of the kingdom. That a marriage between Mina and the prince would instill great favor upon his reign and all that come after.â
âThat is what I know as well,â Jungwon agrees. âI have also never heard the prophecy verbatim.â
âIs it possible then,â Jaeyun asks, âthat this could be part of it?â
You raise your eyebrows. âYou believe a seer instructed the king to marry my sister and then murder her?â
âI donât know.â Jaeyun shakes his head. âBut we need to hear the original prophecy, not just what the two of you have been told.â
âAnd how should we go about that?â Your anger is misdirected, but you can hardly contain it now. It stings like a sharp blade. âWhat would you have us do? Roll the seer out of her grave and ask her ourselves?â
âThat might not be necessary.â At your side, itâs the first time Jungwon has spoken in minutes. Despite the revelations of the night, his expression betrays little. All you see is a set determination as his lips draw into a thin, straight line. âThe castle keeps archives of everything related to the royal family. Medical histories, anomalies, anything deemed worth noting. Itâs possible an original transcription of the prophecy is housed in the archives as well.â
âThe palace archives?â you echo. âYour wedding is in five days. How could we possibly begin to locateââ
âHeeseung can help,â Jungwon interrupts. Heeseung. Youâve nearly forgotten. Your escort to the princeâs chambers, all those weeks ago. Now, you remember. Jungwon had mentioned it, too. When heâs not running covert errands for the prince, heâs a scribe. In the royal archives. âHe spends most of his time there. Heâs well acquainted with the system of organization.â
It takes Heeseung two days to locate the prophecy in the archives. Two days of which you spend every waking moment so restless you think you may actually implode.Â
Youâre summoned for a dress fitting with Mina. You hardly feel the fabric against your skin, can barely force a stilted smile when Riki asks if you like it. Can hardly even brush him off when he ventures further to ask if everything is alright.Â
And Mina. Gods, you canât even look at your older sister. Youâre certain sheâs a vision of radiance. How could she not be, with so much careful attention on her? When sheâs been prepared her entire life for this very moment?
But no matter how hard you force yourself to smile, all you can see when you look at that pristine, sparking, white dress is red.Â
Ruby red crimson that starts at her stomach and radiates outwards like some kind of sickening bloom. Staining the front of her dress, dripping down to her satin shoes. Her expression, forever frozen in a picture of youth.Â
Of muted horror. Because even in her last moments, sheâs expected to be a lady.Â
The vision follows you, your sister, mutilated in her wedding gown, as you trace the familiar path back to your bedroom. Time feels like a thing suspended. Every ticking second is torture.Â
Lost in the violent visions of your head, you barely even remember arriving back at your room, closing the door firmly behind you. Sliding the lock into place.Â
Itâs getting late now. The end of another day.Â
Where is Heeseung? Where is Jungwon? Youâve tried calling for him, but your mind feels like an endless spiral. Without something to tether you to reality, your control over your connection slips. Until it fades almost entirely.Â
You said it yourself: youâre no prisoner. But trapped in your bedroom, haunted by the confines of your own mind, it certainly is beginning to feel that way.Â
Youâre not nearly ready to face another sleepless night, not prepared to toss and turn in anxious agony once again, but youâve resigned yourself to it.Â
Maybe your sleep tonight, when it eventually finds you in the darkest hours of the night, will be dreamless. Maybe it will spare you some of your waking torture.Â
In the end, you never find out.Â
Long before sleep finds you, the knock comes to your door.Â
Sharp, rapt, and light, itâs the opposite of the pounding that summoned you weeks ago. Still, it puts the last of your nerves on edge, has even your bones trembling beneath your skin.Â
With shaking hands, you stand, drawing your robe tighter around your body. Securing it with a flimsy knot.Â
For a moment, you pause, just on the inside of your door. You take a deep breath in. Force it back out. You have to face this. You know you do. But the anxiety clawing at your throat is difficult to ignore.Â
Itâs me. You hear, right against the shell of your ear. Itâs okay.
Is it? You wonder. Some of the fear dissipates, but itâs replaced with a certain kind of sadness, a deep sort of longing. You donât know how to put into words the way you suddenly feel like crying.Â
Still, you swallow your tears, hoping the last of your frayed nerves will go down with them. Sliding the lock to the side, you open your door. Slowly, as if this can be delayed any longer.Â
Jungwon, too, seems hesitant. Teetering at the edge of your doorstep, his eyes make quick work of scanning you head to toe.
In the deepest corners of your mind, youâre aware of the impropriety. Despite the fact heâs seen you in this state before, itâs hardly appropriate to be wearing nothing but nightclothes and a robe, hair loose around your face.
Jungwon, too, has foregone his formal clothing. Similar to the night in the stables, heâs dressed in nondescript, dark clothes. His head bears no crown. In his left hand, he holds a scroll.Â
This time, it feels different. Heeseung isnât here to serve as a buffer. Itâs just you and the prince. Clothing aside, itâs hardly appropriate for him to be in your bedroom.Â
He seems to sense it as well. âMay IâŠâ He clears his throat, voice suddenly scraped raw. âMay I come in?â
Wordlessly, you open the door wider. You take a step back, a silent invitation for him to follow.Â
Closing the door behind him, itâs just the two of you. Moonlight streams in through the window. Along with the single candle on your bedside table, itâs the only light in the room.Â
Jungwon breaks the silence. âHeeseung found it,â he tells you, sparing theatrics as he holds up the scroll in his hand. âA transcription. Taken on the date the prophecy was foretold. Written by a royal scribe at the side of the seerâs deathbed.â
You can hardly get the words out, voice a shadow of a whisper. âWhat does it say?â
âI donât know.â Jungwon matches your eye, the scroll still suspended between you. âI waited for you to read it.â
âVery well,â you nod.Â
Despite the way your heart hammers in your chest, you know you canât delay any longer.Â
Now it is the prince who hesitates. âPerhapsâŠâ he starts. âPerhaps we should sit down.â
Looking around your room, embarrassment enters your swirl of feelings. Your room is comfortable, yes, but it was not designed to be luxurious. You were not the sister afforded extra amenities. You have no table. No chairs.Â
Your voice is small. âIâm afraid the bed is the only place where we could.â
Jungwonâs breath is shallow. Still he nods, âIt will do.â
Sitting at your side at the foot of your bed, Jungwon turns to you, eyes earnest. âThis doesnâtâŠâ He struggles for a moment, searching for words. âThis doesnât change anything. I still mean every word Iâve ever told you. I have resolved to be a good king, to make things better. No matter what this scroll contains, that remains my sole intention.â He pauses, looking at you. âAnd if some part of this implies any sort of harm towards you or your sister, I vow to do everything in my power to stop it.â
Moonlight dances over his resolve. All you can manage is a nod.Â
You tell him, afraid your voice may fail you if you delay too long, âUnfold it.â
Slowly, the scroll unravels. Until he must hold his hands in front of his body, one across from his chest, the other parallel to his navel.Â
In the faint light, the words are just decipherable. With a voice that trembles only slightly, he reads aloud in the silence of your bedroom,
âA kingdom torn is a kingdom lost.
Even royal blood is ruined by frost.
But salvation will come through an unlikely pair.
A royal prince and a blacksmith's heir.Â
She will bear no wealth, no gold, no fame.
But the kingdom will prosper all the same.
You'll find her where the river flows,
With braid full of flowers, and a heart that knowsÂ
The name by which you call your heir.
Despite never hearing it,
Sheâll whisper it there.â
For a moment, neither of you says anything. Jungwon tugs at the bottom of the scroll, as if he expects it to unfold further. âThatâsâŠâ Jungwon frowns, âmore vague than I hoped. But this doesnât answer our questions. At least we now know there is no mention of anything⊠deadly.â
Thereâs not. It should provide a bit of relief. But your heart is dropping in your stomach for an entirely different reason.Â
Like Jungwon said, the prophecy is vague. It sounds more like a childâs nursery rhyme than a foretold fate. So much so that you can hardly believe the king would hinge the livelihood of an entire kingdom on its fulfillment.Â
And he was right, you think. All those years ago. Even with nothing but rhymes to work with, he found who he was looking for.Â
The prophecy matches Mina. A blacksmithâs heir. No wealth, no gold, no fame. The two of you had been playing, next to the bank of a river. And you had spent the afternoon finding the most beautiful flowers to weave into the identical braids your mother had given you that very morning.Â
But the last stanza. It echoes now, inside your mind. Like a death march on loop.Â
With braid full of flowers, and a heart that knowsÂ
The name by which you call your heir.
Despite never hearing it,
Sheâll whisper it there.
The day was so long ago. The details are blurred, hazy around the edges. But there are things you know for certain. Call it memory or intuition or the same strange magic that allows you to speak with the prince inside your mind, youâre sure of it.Â
When the man, the king, approached the two of you, you were terrified. Barefoot in the grass, you were shaking. One year older, Mina was always the braver one between the two of you.Â
Even with the river roaring behind you, the kingâs voice boomed like thunder. It made you flinch, tucking yourself even further into your sisterâs shadow.Â
He had asked only one question. âWhat is my sonâs name?â
For a moment, the two of you were silent. His request was strange, preposterous. You didnât know what this manâs name was, much less that of his son. All you knew was that he dressed funny. Full of gold and furs and a strange looking hat.Â
Crown, you think your mother had told you once.Â
And as was tradition in your kingdom, the princeâs name had not yet been revealed to the public. Jungwonâs name would remain a mystery until his fifth birthday. Even if you had known this man to be the king, neither of you would have any way to name his son.Â
He repeated his question, even louder this time. It frightened you so much you thought you might die. In front of you, even Mina began to tremble.Â
âI donât know,â you wanted to shout, desperate to do anything to make the man go away, leave you alone. You were too far from your parents. Even if you screamed, they would never hear you.
It started with a tickle, a strange sensation against the back of your mind. You craned your neck to the side, as if you could escape your own thoughts if you stretched just right. Your hand flew to the back of your head, as if that strange feeling would have some sort of physical manifestation.Â
It didnât. But it grew stronger. Until sensation became sound. And sound became a word.Â
Jungwon.
The king repeated his question a third time, and you swear you saw even the trees tremble.Â
âJungwon,â you whispered in Minaâs ear.Â
âWhat?â she asked, looking over her shoulder at you.Â
âJungwon,â you repeated. You didnât know where it came from and were even less sure of what to do with it. But you knew, somewhere deep down, that it would make his shouting stop.Â
Minaâs eyes were clouded with confusion, but she still nodded at you. Still gathered the last of her bravery and turned back to the king, shoulders straight in an effort at bravado.Â
âJungwon,â she shouted, loud enough to be heard over the roaring of the river.Â
The kingâs draw dropped open in surprise. And then he smiled.Â
It was done.Â
Now, sixteen years later, back in the sanctity of your bedroom, a different mantra whispers through your mind.Â
It was me.
It plays like a sickening loop, only grows louder the more you try to stop it. You have to get a reign on your thoughts. He canât know.
You canât tell him. You canât say it. You canât.Â
But Jungwon, much to your horror, turns to you and, breaking the silence, asks, âWhat?â
You shake your head. You feel three years old again, shaking in fear at the side of a river. âI⊠I didnât say anything.â
But itâs already too late. He heard you, loud and clear. As if you had leaned in and whispered it, lips pressed against his temples, words ghosting over his skin.
âItâs not her,â he shakes his head, eyes darting over the scroll. Rolling it back into place, he sets it aside. âIt was never her.â Thereâs something akin to wonder in his gaze when he turns to look at you. âItâs you.â
And then, like a stack of dominoes falling one by one, heâs clicking pieces of a magical puzzle into place with certainty. âThatâs why we can hear one another in our minds. Why I feel this⊠this sort of magnetism whenever youâre nearââ
He meets your eye, pleading. You can practically see the gears in his mind turning. You can feel the way they whir a million miles a minute. âItâs why the kingdom still suffers. The prophecy wasnât being followed. It still is not being fulfilled. Of course.â Heâs hardly pausing to breathe. âThis will change everythingââ
But you cannot listen to him any longer, canât let him continue to draw his own errant conclusions. Before his realizations can continue to tumble out, you interrupt, âMina can never know.â Your voice, quiet and steady, cuts through your bedroom like a knife.
At your side, Jungwon goes suddenly still. His brow furrows, confused. âOf course, you may be the first one to speak to her if you wish, butââ
You shake your head, expression resolute. You repeat, âShe cannot know, Jungwon. Not from my mouth or yours or anyone elseâs.â
For a moment, Jungwonâs lips do nothing but open. Close again. As if there are things he would like to say but canât quite remember how to form words. âBut youâ but the prophecyââ
You force your voice into something cold, detached. âThe wedding is in three days.â You shake your head. âA few moments ago you said this would change nothing. That you were willing to overlook such fickle magic. You said it yourself, itâs your new crown and title that will give you the power to make real change for your people, not the words of a dead seer.â
âThis was beforeâŠâ Jungwon trails off. Itâs strange, you note offhandedly, just how favored he truly seems to be. With moonlight streaming in through your window and confusion overtaking his features, he still manages that effervescent sort of beauty. It feels too potent, too overwhelming, here on the foot of your bed, among the threadbare decorations of your room. âI was making adjustments based on what I knew then. But this⊠this changes things.â
Your brow furrows, eyes narrowing. You pray youâre misunderstanding. âI donât see how.â
Sensing your unease, Jungwon ventures lightly, âPerhaps if the prophecy were to be followed truly, thenââ
âThen what?â You shrug helplessly. âThen I can become a prop, a doll for the castle? Then my sister can despise me for all eternity? Then I can lose my connections and ability to help the resistance as I spend my days at your side, nothing but a false figurehead? Then your father can kill me too?â
âThat wonât happen,â Jungwon shakes his head. âThis will change things. People wonât suffer anymore.âÂ
His naivety frustrates you to no end. Where has your level-headed prince gone? âIt will change nothing! Your father has decided that peace and prosperity arenât enough. Donât you see, Jungwon? He wants power. Money. It doesnât matter which one of us walks down the aisle toward you. I doubt he can even tell my sister and I apart. Whichever one of us it is, heâs going to murder, just as soon as he thinks the prophecy has been sealed into place. In fact, maybe heâll just kill us both. We both know Iâm just dead weight without her anyways.â
âDonât say that.â His brow dips in frustration. âThis isnât⊠Youâre not dead weight.â
âWhatever I am, I wonât be a prop for royals to use and discard as they see fit.â You shake your head, resolve tightening. Even if you canât quite look him in the eye as you say it. âI wonât forever ruin the life of my only living family.â
Jungwon is begging for a bit of your understanding. Trying to chip away at an unbreakable wall. âEven if it means saving a kingdom? Preventing unnecessary violence and death?â
âI am not the one tasked with ruling the kingdom,â you remind him.Â
âNo,â he agrees, âbut you are one half of the prophecy designed to save it.âÂ
Itâs as if he forgot his earlier words. You remind him, âA prophecy you decided to place no faith in until mere moments ago.â
Jungwon suddenly rises from the edge of your bed. Standing, he turns to face you, forcing your gaze to his. âAnd even then I was willing to sacrifice everything on the feeble hope that it could be true!â His eyes are wide, chest heaving. âI wouldnât do you the dishonor of complaining about my life, not when my circumstances are more favorable than most men could dream. But if you think that for even one moment, I rejoiced in the idea of being forever wed to a woman for which I hold no affection, you are sorely mistaken.â
In the dim light of your bedroom, itâs a confession that feels dangerous.Â
As his words heat, you force yours into ice. Your tone is considerably cooler when you reply, âIâm terribly sorry for your misfortune. The duty of marrying someone so far beneath your status is truly an unthinkable taskââ
âHer status has nothing to do with itââ
âI didnât pin you to be such a bleeding romantic,â you finish, sarcasm laced through every syllable.Â
The tension, the fight, drains from his shoulders. Heâs not arguing now. Heâs begging. And heâs looking deep into your eyes when he asks, helplessly, âHow could I not be, when Iâve met someone who speaks to me inside my own head?â
For a moment, your bedroom is silent. Save for the sound of your breaths, heavy, heaving, mingling with his. You wonât ask him to clarify. You know what he means. Youâd be a fool not to feel it too.Â
The first time you spoke, hidden beneath the castle. The orchids. The night in the stables when he gifted you a horse of your very own. Your silent arguments in front of Jaeyun. Checking in on one another no matter what distance kept you apart. Every moment in between.Â
This bond, this connection, is more than just functional. Itâs tied you to him in ways you canât explain, with feelings youâre afraid to admit.Â
Itâs the most damning piece of evidence that the seer, all those years ago, was still lucid in her prophesizing.Â
Itâs why you canât look at him when you say, âI think itâs best if you take your leave.â
â___,â he says your name. Soft, quiet, pleading.Â
âPlease,â you beg, shaking your head. You still wonât match his eye. âPlease, just go.â
With your eyes trained on his shoes, you watch as they remain motionless for moments longer. âVery well,â he finally says. You wish you didnât know him well enough to recognize the pain etched into his voice. âCall upon me, when youâre ready.âÂ
He doesnât tell you where, how to find him. You already know. All you have to do is think it, and heâll be at your side.Â
But your lips and your mind remain equally guarded, motionless, as you watch his footsteps turn from you. Then disappear.Â
The door shuts behind him with a resounding click.Â
And you let the single, heavy tear fall onto the fabric of your robe.Â
âŠ..
No matter how deeply sorrow burrows itself into your heart, the day of your sisterâs wedding somersaults forward with little grace until itâs in an undeniable heap at your feet.Â
Itâs both agony and sheer relief. With every passing second, you find yourself more and more tempted to do something. Anything. Some action that will make the restlessness beneath your skin disappear. Something that will have your mind cease its war with your heart.
It would be so easy to tug at that familiar connection. To send a message to Jungwon with your mind. But what would you tell him?
Please donât marry her. Itâs a selfish, vile wish. One with ugly green horns and a steadiness that remains even when you forget the prophecy.
Fulfill the prophecy. Marry me instead. Itâs even worse. You can frame your desires as altruism, but you know yourself better than that. The guilt, the shame, regardless of the outcome would eat at you forever.Â
Iâm sorry. For what exactly, you're not sure. But you hate the expression that was on his face when he left you three nights ago. Hate the way that itâs still burned into your mind, etched across your vision every time you close your eyes.Â
âCall upon me,â heâd told you, âwhen youâre ready.âÂ
But now, sitting in your sisterâs dressing room, watching her prepare for the ceremony that will bind her to Jungwon forever, you doubt you ever will be.Â
You donât think you can stomach it, the polite distance expected between a prince and the sister of his bride. You donât think you can ever look at him again and feel anything resembling detachment.
So instead, you forced a smile this morning when you dragged yourself out of bed. It was another sleepless night, full of dreams that felt more like mirages than rest.Â
You made your way to her dressing room at the time you were summoned, dressed in the gown Riki completed for you.Â
Sitting here now, looking at her, you pretend the unease in your stomach is something other than jealousy.Â
You try your best not to hate that version of you at the riverâs edge, all those years ago, who wasnât quite brave enough to look the king in the eye and whisper the name in your mind.Â
And then, on your next exhale, you do your best to let it go.Â
The dressing room, at least, does provide some distraction.Â
Youâre not sure how the tailor managed to do it, but Minaâs gown is somehow even lovelier in the light of her dressing room than it was in his salon. Â
Itâs white, starkly so, and the intricate beading that covers the corset only stands to make it more blinding.Â
Youâre still having a hard time looking directly at her, though. Mostly because every time you do, that awful vision returns. The one where her dress, right at the center, begins to bleed crimson.Â
Your own reflection is difficult to observe, too. Riki was right. Gold is your color. And the attention the ladies maids paid to your hair and makeup have made you hardly recognize yourself.Â
Youâre not sure if itâs pride you swallow or merely nerves, but you turn to sit in a way that angles you away from the mirror. This choice puts your older sister in your direct line of sight. Sheâs beautiful, truly. And itâs her wedding day, death sentence or not. You should tell her as much.Â
Once again, she beats you to it.Â
âYou look beautiful, ____,â she says. âTruly stunning. That gold looks wonderful on you.â
âPlease,â you shake your head. Your voice still sounds rusty, raw. You cough lightly in an effort to disguise it. âItâs nothing compared to you.â
She looks at you for a moment, as if she canât quite decide what to say. For a moment, you feel transparent. As if she can see all the way to your bones, to the desires you swore to hide from her forever. But the moment passes as quickly as it comes. Eventually, she settles on, âI did not intend to compare.â
Youâre sure she didnât. But it happens anyway. Murmurs behind hand. Gossip between the castle ladies. Rumors at the dinner table. Your existence here has always been one of comparison. One you fall short of every single time.Â
âHow could I not be, when Iâve met someone who speaks to me inside my own head?â
Well, except in one case, perhaps. Even now, Jungwonâs words echo in your brain like an omen. It feels like treason to sit here and trade pleasantries with your sister when less than three nights ago, you were sitting at the foot of your bed with her husband-to-be, trading secrets in the dark.Â
You shake your head, as if the action alone can clear your illicit thoughts. Itâs no use. Your mulling, your questions, your feelings. They donât matter. In the span of hours, your sister will be married and the prophecy will be left to die in your memory.Â
Then, your only objective will be to figure out the rest of the kingâs plan. Discover exactly when he plans on murdering your sister.Â
For now, you simply need a moment.Â
Standing, you excuse yourself for some fresh air. You feel Minaâs eyes on your back until the door to the dressing room shuts firmly behind you. Leaning back against it for a moment, you place a hand over your hammering heart. Try to catch your breath.Â
Itâs little use. The air outside the dressing room is just as stifling.Â
Deciding youâre in need of something fresher, you let your footsteps carry you further, all the way until you reach a small, secluded balcony overlooking the garden youâve become so very fond of.Â
A fresh ache begins in your heart. Despite it all, the castle is your home. Even if it wasnât of your own volition. Even if it never truly opened its arms to you fully.Â
This is the place where you grew up. It holds all of your memories, your secrets. Your deepest fears, your greatest desires.Â
And now, you fear it may steal the rest of your life just as surely. Something in you aches at the thought of growing old here. Living out the rest of your days as nothing more than the sister of the queen. Watching your sister and Jungwon build a life, a family.Â
You decide then, with your eyes on the roses and wind in your hair, that you hate prophecies. Magic and sorcery and seers, all of it. Who was the old seer to decide your fate? Who was the king to seal it in stone?Â
For a moment, you wonder privately if youâre glad the king set his sights on the wrong sister. The only thing worse than watching this marriage from the periphery, you suppose, would be existing at the center of it.Â
Then again, if things were different, you might disagree. Would the prophecy do to you what itâs done to Mina? Would time make you indifferent and malleable and perfectly suited to supporting the future king from the sidelines? Youâre not sure. And somehow, that stings even more.Â
Silently, you watch as the wind plays with the flowing fabric of your sleeves.Â
Not for the first time, you imagine leaving all of this behind you for good. Closing your eyes, itâs all too easy to picture. Abandoning the castle. Leaving your sister a short note that conveys your affection but betrays nothing of your whereabouts.Â
Letting Jay, Riki, Sunoo, and Sunghoon learn through rumors that youâve escaped into the night. Joining Jaeyun for good, living out the rest of your life as far away from the palace walls as the wind will carry you.Â
Letting Jungwon discover you missing. Mourning the loss, perhaps. Eventually moving on.Â
But whatever the fantasy is, itâs too late now.Â
No matter how you picture it, no matter what escape route this particularly mutinous version of yourself takes, he is always there. In the shadows. Echoing through your mind.Â
Youâd have to escape on horseback, of course. And you can hardly look at Nabi without wondering what exactly made Jungwon know sheâd be so well suited to you.Â
You can hardly return to the hilltop, once your favorite sanctuary, knowing that the ghost of his footsteps would only follow.Â
And even if you could find somewhere outside the incumbent kingâs reach, you can never escape your own mind. No, peace will certainly never have you. Not as long as he keeps hold of the space heâs been given there.Â
Would he try, you wonder. Reaching out to you through that strange connection in your mind? Would it fade with time and distance? Or would it just lay there, dormant, unused, but always waiting?
Heâs left you in peace the last three days, and you can quite decide if itâs a blessing or a curse. Â
Regardless of the prince, even if you truly wanted to, itâs not as if you can abandon the castle now. Not when Minaâs life could possibly be in jeopardy.Â
So instead, you open your eyes. Let them gaze over the garden just a moment longer. Try not to think too hard about what the roses would think of you, if they could speak.Â
And then, with one final breath and the last of your aching resolve, you turn on your heel.Â
Or, at least, you try to.Â
The sound of voices below has your feet faltering in their tracks. The hushed, secretive cadence reminds you of that day in the hidden corridors with Jungwon. Only, this time, theyâre far easier to distinguish.Â
Thereâs no thick stone wall to serve as a barrier. Only the garden air.Â
âItâs a shame,â the first voice says. You donât recognize it, but it sends a chill down your spine. Itâs a man, you think. But that is all you can decipher. âI still donât understand why it has to be today. Itâs a wedding, for godsâ sake.â
At the mention, your breath stutters.Â
âI know,â the second voice responds, far more detached. Another man, youâre sure. This one with a sharper tone of haughtiness. âBut the kingâs orders are iron bars.â
The first speaker still isnât sure. âIt just isnât right. Why should she die todayââ
âKeep your voice down,â the second interrupts, voice bitingly cold. âIt isnât our place to question. Besides, you know how this works by now. Itâs her or itâs us. Are you willing to take that risk?â
The first must shake his head. Or nod. Whatever his response is, itâs inaudible.Â
And your heart hammers in your chest, pulse pounding in your ears, for an entirely different reason.Â
Desperate for a glimpse, a clue, you lean as far over the balcony as balance will allow you. But itâs not enough. You canât see anything but roses and empty space. Panic begins to claw at your throat.Â
Why should she die today? Itâs a wedding.
Like a demented chant, snippets of their brief conversation echo in your mind. It doesnât matter how you look at them, how you spin them. You donât need a gut feeling or a strange stroke of intuition to guide you now. You know, no matter how terribly you wish you didnât, exactly what they mean.Â
The clues you put together, they were right. Mina's life is in danger.Â
And for whatever terrible reason, despite the prophecy, the king is no longer waiting. Whatever death theyâve planned for your sister, it will happen before she says her vows.Â
Panic takes a firmer root now, somewhere deeper inside you. Through the haze in your mind, you search. Until itâs there. Like a muscle youâve begun to train, a mechanism youâre starting to understand.Â
Desperation rising, you only hope his anger or hurt or whatever emotion he left with three nights ago isnât enough to sever what lies between you.Â
Jungwon, you try. Itâs as easy as ever, a practiced motion.
For a moment, there is nothing in your mind but silence. And thenâ
Iâm here.
You can almost envision his expression. That gentle warmth. Those damn eyes. No matter what terms you ended your last conversation on, you knew it would come to this. He would never leave you to drown in your own silence.Â
I need you to do something, you tell him, mind spinning a million miles a minute. His response takes less than an inhale.Â
Anything.Â
Stepping back inside, you let your feet make quick work of carrying you back to the dressing room where Mina puts on the last of her finishing touches.
This is the day sheâs trained for, prepared for, her entire life. Her childhood was stolen too, her parents left to die in the cold. This wedding, this future, is the only thing that's ever belonged to her.Â
And you're about to ruin it.
 Bursting through the door, several pairs of eyes turn to you, widening at the sudden interruption.Â
âMina,â you say, breathless as a plan begins to take shape in your mind, âI need you to trust me.â
âŠ..
The grand hall is nearly blinding. Above you, the ceiling has been replaced with windows at intermittent points. Sunlight, high in the daytime sky, streams through in long, bright beams.Â
Even if the sky were more melancholy, the thousands of candles filling the room would illuminate it all the same.Â
The hall is filled with flowers. Rare, exotic blooms that catch your eye. And among them all, scattered in intentionally placed bunches, are orchids.
Looking down at your sleeve, you see them embroidered there too. Itâs beautiful beadwork, truly. The tailor has outdone himself. Light reflects from every square inch of fabric, making you nearly as radiant as the sun.Â
Along the aisle, members of the royal court stand, eyes on you. For a moment, youâre grateful to the way your dress has become all but reflective. It makes it easier to ignore their assessing stares.
Theyâre all doing it, you know. Whether theyâre smiling, frowning, or some odd mix of both. Theyâre scanning every inch of you for the sole purpose of finding something to criticize behind closed doors.Â
Itâs a strange feeling, and one you certainly arenât accustomed to. Like a zoo animal in a cage, meant for observing and picking apart.Â
Shaking their stares away, you look straight ahead.
Your vision is obscured, only slightly, by the thin, white veil that covers your face. It flutters against your skin as onlookers take a hushed gasp at your entrance. And, you hope, it conceals your identity.Â
Eyes trained on your feet, thoughts consumed with not tripping over your own skirts, the sudden intrusion in your mind nearly startles you into stumbling.Â
Your name. You hear it in your mind, clear as daylight, in a voice that doesnât belong to you.Â
For a moment, you remain silent. You donât even dare to look up at the end of the aisle where you know he stands, waiting.Â
He told you once, weeks ago, that his only role in this ceremony was to wait for his bride at the end of the aisle. You never imagined you would be the one walking towards him.Â
This time, it doesnât matter. He tries again. Itâs you. You pretend not to hear the hope in his voice.
Despite it all, you canât leave him in silence forever. It is, you reply.
The orchestraâs march is agonizingly slow. Your steps are small, measured. The aisle that extends before you is still long. The space that separates you decreases slowly, in tiny increments.Â
Whyâ
I need you to listen to me. You cut him off. You were right, that night on the hilltop. Theyâre going to kill Mina. I heard voices, just now, before the ceremony. Your heart beats in your chest, pulse in your throat, thrumming in your ears. They wonât wait until after youâre married. Theyâre going to kill her now.
What do you mean theyâre going to kill her now?
I heard them, you explain. Assassins, I think. They said they had orders from the king. To kill her today. At the wedding.
That meansâŠ
Under the veil, you nod. I think theyâre here now.
Only then do you lift your chin. Only a matter of footsteps separates you now. The prince, Jungwon, is within reach.Â
Across from you, he looks every bit the royalty he is. Dressed in well fitted garments, color as deep as midnight, he is every bit your opposite. Your equal. Where your gown flows, his ensemble sits against his skin with structure, a rigidness meant for rulers. Where yours is light, airy, his is dark, stable.Â
On his head, he wears his crown. Golden, heavy, impossibly intricate where it rests across his forehead. His hair, dark and well groomed, barely brushes the tops of his shoulders. And his eyes, full of constellations, are trained directly on you.Â
Where? He asks. The desperation in his voice is difficult to mix as you step onto the small, raised platform. Stand directly across from him. Heâs so close now, within reach. Where are they?
You shake your head, a minute motion. I donât know.Â
To your right, the royal minister begins his speech. The traditional marriage rites of the kingdom.Â
Above him, in the only seat higher than the two of you in the room, sits the king. In his throne, he looks almost bored. Lazy with the indulgence of it all.Â
Beneath him, Jungwon and you stand facing each other. At the front of the grand hall, in the dead center. The position is intentional. Meant to provide a clear view for onlookers.Â
Now, you feel like little more than sitting ducks.
You watch as Jungwon does his best to remain inconspicuous, as his eyes rake over the audience, the room. For a moment, a deep sense of hopelessness overwhelms you. The room is too full, too crowded.Â
An assassin, especially one hired by the king himself, is like a needle in a haystack.Â
It strikes you then, in the middle of a marriage ceremony in a stolen gown, that you are not ready for death. Your life is something you mull over only occasionally. Youâre not sure what impact youâve made, what lives youâve touched.Â
Itâs a bit of a selfish desire, perhaps, to hope that it will extend longer than today. But there are things, so many of them, that you still want to do. Words you still want to say. Days, simple, unremarkable, routine, that you still want to experience.Â
Your dagger is still strapped to your thigh, even beneath a wedding dress. But what use is a dagger against what youâre sure will be a trained assassin? Fleetingly, you remember your lesson. The adjustments Jungwon made to your posture. The advice he gave you. To be smart. To be quick.Â
Itâs useless now. On the precipice of what very well may be your death, your mind spins. Itâs hard to concentrate, difficult to gather your thoughts into something rational. And your gown is as restrictive as it is gorgeous. It would be difficult to run in skirts these heavy, these long, much less flee for your life. Reality settles with a chill.
Grief feels like a sudden punch in the gut, a cold sense of clarity that cuts through the adrenaline and has you wanting to run back down the aisle the way you came.Â
Mina, you hope, will be safe. You pray she listened to your instructions, that sheâs heeding them now. If life is waiting for her on the other side of this, you suppose you can make your peace with your decisions.Â
Looking at Jungwon for a moment, his eyes are still darting around the room, frantic in his search. You would join him, but thereâs little use. The veil obscures too much of your vision. Besides him, you canât make out much of anything. Not clearly, anyway.
With a startling suddenness, his gaze is back on you. You doubted him. Forgot, perhaps, that he has the vision of a trained hunter.Â
Again, you hear him in your mind. The balcony, he says. Behind you. Two men in dark clothes. Their faces are concealed.Â
Something akin to hope blooms in your chest. Maybe, you think, even if you hardly dare to believe it, you wonât die on this pedestal. A gruesome vision of crimson over white come to life.
Across from you, Jungwonâs eyes narrow. Almost as if heâs suddenly furious. Youâre not going to die. Â
His words are sharp, angry. You hadnât meant to send your thoughts to him, but as always, he heard them regardless.Â
Beside you, the ministerâs words are beginning to slow. He motions for the rings, a symbol of your eternal devotion and connection to one another, to be brought forth. For the crown that will soon belong to you to be placed on a pedestal next to you.Â
The ceremony is drawing to an end. Whatever the king has planned, it must be happening soon.Â
Jungwonâs eyes fall back to the space above your shoulders, where youâre sure the assassins must be lying in wait. Next to you, the minister instructs the two of you to join hands.Â
Removing your gloves, your fingers tremble slightly. Placing them on a cushion next to you, you reach out, interlacing your bare fingers with his.Â
Beneath your touch, his skin is warm. Your hands arenât quite sure what to do. They canât decide if they should settle into his heat or jolt at the sudden contact. It strikes you then that despite the connection in your minds, the way it feels as if his lips are well acquainted with the shell of your ear, this is the first time you and the prince have truly touched. Â
His skin is smooth under yours. Calloused in the places he holds reins, a sword. Gentle as his fingers envelop yours.Â
Again, his eyes narrow in on the balcony behind you. You watch as his jaw sets in determination, a resolution made.Â
Next to you, the minister instructs you to release your hands, to gather your rings and place them on one anotherâs respective fingers.Â
You begin to disentangle your grasp to follow his direction, but Jungwon holds strong. His fingers suddenly a vice grip against your own. Looking to him, confusion marrs your features.
You reach for the connection, about to ask in your mind what heâs doing, but you never get the chance.Â
Before you can draw another breath, he pulls.Â
So suddenly, so firmly, that your center of gravity is thrown entirely. Unable to regain your balance, you fall. Down, down, down, impossibly fast towards the ground nearly a foot below the platform.Â
You close your eyes, bracing for impact that never fully comes.Â
Instead of hitting the stone floor of the grand hall, solid and unyielding, your fall is cushioned by the body beneath yours.Â
Jungwon.
Pulled tight to his chest, your head rests right over his heartbeat, legs tangled on the castle floor. Lifting your head, your vision is still partially obscured by your veil.Â
Your pulse hammers, blood rushing in your ears. Distantly, you hear the sound of screams. Chaos erupting around the hall as realizations begin to settle. Turning your head to the side, you can just make out the shape of a singular arrow, long as sharp, lodged into the podium. Exactly where youâd been standing seconds ago.Â
Your lips part in surprise. A hand over your head pulls you tight to his chest once again. You feel your body flip through the air, a sudden motion that nearly knocks the air from your lungs as youâre spun onto your back.Â
Eyes screwed shut, you open them slowly. Above you now, Jungwon hovers, caging you in with his body. Above you, desperation laces through his eyes as they bore into yours, every nerve a live wire.Â
His crown, lost somewhere in the chaos, lies alone in the space youâd been in moments ago. Next to it, a second arrow rests, useless on the ground.Â
Jungwonâs hair falls over his face, brushes the tops of his eyelashes. Your foreheads are nearly touching.Â
Around you, the room explodes as royal guests begin to flee, their terror echoing through the hall.Â
In your private sanctuary of Jungwonâs making, you hardly hear them. Your focus rests entirely on him. With one swift motion, he lifts his hand, pushing your veil back from your face. Thereâs no barrier between you now.Â
âWe have to run,â he whispers, breath caressing your cheekbone. Even now, heâs gentle with you, delicate. Itâs a stark contrast to the horror that unfolds around you.Â
âI know,â you nod, heart in your throat. âThis dressââ
You donât need to explain further. Before you can form another coherent thought, you feel his hand slide under the back of your knee, pulling it up until it rests next to his ribs, caging him in.Â
One palm rests by your ear, supporting his weight above you. The other you feel brush against your ankle. Suppressing a shudder, you feel it traveling higher, beneath your skirts now.Â
Despite everything, you feel heat on your cheekbones, confusion in your brow. Your throat is dry, nearly choking around a swallow.Â
Jungwon doesnât leave you in the dark for long.Â
You feel the moment he finds it, long fingers wrapping around the dagger holstered to your upper thigh. Itâs horribly intimate. Itâs indecent, itâs obscene. Itâs a matter of survival as he draws it out of its sheath, pulling it free and letting your skirts fall back into place as he removes his hand from your skin.Â
You feel the resistance as he puts his blade against the fabric, cutting away at months of effort. You pray the tailor forgives you as you hear beads scatter over stone, silk fraying as he cuts in frantic, uneven strokes.Â
And then heâs done. With the train of your gown gone, your legs are far less restricted. You can move. You can run.Â
We have to go, he repeats, this time in your mind.Â
You nod in lieu of replying. He stands first. You take his outstretched hand, placing your fingers in his.Â
And then youâre running. Only once, before leaving the grand hall, do you glance back. Your eye sweep over the upheaved seats, the strewn flowers. The candles that have begun to fall, flames extinguishing as wicks kiss stone.Â
And the king, high on his throne at the center of it all, has his furious, enraged gaze trained directly on your unveiled face.Â
Jungwon leads you with practiced speed, weaving once again through secret passageways and hidden chambers that he knows like the back of his hand.Â
Minutes blur in your mind. The only marker of time is the growing burn of exertion in your legs.Â
Just a little further, he assures in your mind.Â
True to his word, the two of you reach an exterior exit less than a minute later. Immediately, you recognize the eastern gardens. Crouching low behind the thickest of the foliage, the two of you follow the outskirts until you reach the stables.Â
Nabi is gone when you arrive, and you allow yourself a sigh of relief. Mina, you hope, is long gone by now.Â
Jungwon makes quick work of saddling Maeum. Holding you steady, he helps you mount him before following suit.Â
And then, the two of you are off, reins in his hands and wind in your hair as the castle turns to nothing but a speck on the horizon, far in the distance behind you.Â
âŠ..
âOh, thank the gods.â Jaeyun is nearly beside himself, pacing across the hilltop by the time you and Jungwon arrive.Â
Jungwon waits back for a moment, tying Maeum next to Nabi. He ensures he has plenty of water and food after carrying you both all the way here.Â
Meanwhile, Jaeyun pulls you into a hug so tight you think your lungs might be robbed of all their remaining air. Releasing you after another long moment, he pulls back, mouth opening. His words die on his lips as he scans you head to toe.Â
You imagine you must be quite a sight to behold. Hair coming undone haphazardly, dress a tattered mess around your legs, skin full of scratches and shallow cuts, youâre quite a striking image.Â
In the commotion of your arrival, your older sister breaches the crest of the hilltop, eyes glassy as she runs towards you. Again, youâre pulled into a hug, this one less crushing, albeit only slightly.Â
âThank goodness,â she breathes against your ear. Pulling back, she keeps her hands on your shoulders. Looking directly into your eyes, Mina scolds, âDonât ever do that to me again.â
Youâre not sure why the sight of your older sister has you wanting to burst into childish tears. Itâs sheer relief, perhaps. Or maybe residual guilt. A stew of feelings youâre not quite ready to observe.Â
âYouâre okay,â you whisper, emotions plain on your face.Â
Mina nods. âSunghoon helped me. Brought me here. Introduced me to yourâŠâ she trails off a moment, looking at Jaeyun, âfriend.â
âGood,â you nod. Looking around, you ask, âWhere is he now?â
âBack to the castle,â Jaeyun explains. âSaid it would be too suspicious for him to stick around for long.â
A new thread of worry weaves its way through your heart. Wherever he is now, you hope heâs safe.Â
It had been difficult, back in Minaâs dressing room, asking Jungwon through your mind to send Sunghoon to you. You prayed that you werenât sending him and your sister both to their doom when you asked, no begged, him to help her escape before the ceremony.Â
Quietly, Jungwon joins the three of you, coming to stand at your side.Â
If Mina notices your proximity, she doesnât comment on it. Instead, she drops into a deep curtsey.Â
âMy prince,â she greets, eyes trained turned the grass.Â
âYou donât have to do that out here,â Jaeyun smirks. In a voice thatâs nearly a sing-song, he adds, âWe get to call him Jungwon.â
âOh,â she flushes, facing Jaeyun as she stands. âI could neverââ
âReally, Mina,â you interrupt after giving your friends a withering glare. Your voice is gentle. âItâs alright.â
âIâŠâ She trails off, eyes flickering between you and Jaeyun. Just once, they dart to Jungwon before lowering again in deference. âI donât understand.â
You sigh, heart suddenly heavy in your chest. âDid Sunghoon explain anything?â you ask. âOr Jaeyun?â
âNo.â She shakes her head.
âI wasnât sure it was my place to tell,â Jaeyun says, voice suddenly solemn.Â
You nod at him, thankful for his tact. Turning back to your sister, you suggest, âMaybe we should sit down.â
In the grass, sat directly across from her, you find eye contact a difficult thing to maintain.Â
âMina,â you start, trying to deliver your blows gently. âToday, at your wedding.â You pause, lips sealing. You canât think of a way to make the truth cut any less sharply.
âWhat,â Mina presses. âWhat is it?â
âThe king,â you start. âThe king was going to have you murdered.â
Mina recoils as if youâve slapped her. âWhat?â She shakes her head. âThatâs impossible.â
âItâs true,â Jungwon says. Sitting at your side, his voice is solemn. âThere were assassins at the ceremony. Two of them. With arrows. The grand hall has only one entrance. They must have been invited in.â
âBut whyââ she pleads, eyes wide.Â
âSunghoon confirmed our suspicions,â Jaeyun nods. âHe told me when he brought Mina. The northern kingdom gave an ultimatum yesterday. The king wouldnât allow his daughter to be married to anyone who had already taken a wife, regardless if she wasâŠâ he trails off, looking at Mina, âyou know.â The implication hangs heavy in the air.Â
âThe northern kingdom?â Mina frowns. âI donât understand. What do they have to do with this?â
âWe think,â you start, âthat our king was hoping to unite our kingdom with theirs. For more power, resources, maybe. We thought at first that he would still want to see the prophecy through, that he would proceed with your marriage ceremony and then laterâŠâ
âWhat?â Mina laughs, no trace of humor in her voice. âKill me?â
âYes,â you nod. The time for mincing words has come and gone. A flicker of shock, of hurt, crosses your sisterâs features. âBut with these new demands from the northern kingdom,â you nod towards Jaeyun, âhe must have changed his mind. He would rather have this new alliance than a chance at peace.â
âThatâs not all,â Jaeyunâs voice is grim. âSunghoon also heard that the public nature of the assination was intentional. The plan was to frame it on vigilantes. Resistors. To use it as an excuse to superimpose the northern kingdomâs justice system along with the union between Jungwon and the princess.â
âThe justice system?â you echo.Â
âIs barely even an excuse for justice,â Jungwonâs eyes are narrow. âThe northern kingdom has long shunned any form of opposition. People are not allowed to speak freely, especially not about the royal family. Citizens are sentenced to death with neither evidence nor trial. In recent years, movement between cities has been restricted. Trade that doesnât directly serve the crown has come to a near standstill. Any form of dissent, even if itâs only rumored, is punished,â he looks towards you. âHeavily.â
âBut the prophecy,â Mina protests. âIt was meant to change things for the better. Why would the king risk losing that?â
You canât help but look at Jungwon. When you turn to find his eyes already on you, youâre quick to turn your gaze back to the grass.Â
âDid you two ever find it?â Jaeyun asks. âThe original prophecy?â
âThe original prophecy?â Mina echoes, breathless.Â
âWe did,â Jungwon confirms, voice steady.Â
âAndâŠ?â Jaeyun presses.Â
A beat of silence passes.Â
Jungwon finally speaks. âIt was what we knew, more or less. The seer foretold that a marriage between myself andâŠâ he trails off for just a moment as your vice echoes suddenly in his mind
Donât tell her anything.
â⊠A blacksmithâs daughter,â he finishes, âwould bring peace and prosperity to the kingdom.â
âYou must be wrong then,â Mina concludes. âThe king wouldnât make orders against that.â
âI think he would, Mina,â you argue, not unkindly. âHe chose power over peace. Control over prosperity.â
âThe prophecy,â Mina says. âI want to read it too.â
âMina,â you sigh.
âDonât Mina me,â she tells you. âIâm one half of it, arenât I? I have just as much right as anyone.â
âItâs impossible,â Jungwon shakes his head. âThe scroll is back in the castle archives.â
But the explanation isnât satisfactory. She stares at you a moment longer, gears turning in her mind.Â
Then, so low you almost miss it, she says, âIt isn't me.â Itâs not a question.
âWhat?â You nearly gasp.
âEarlier,â she turns to Jungwon, âyou didn't say me. You said a blacksmith's daughter.âÂ
âHe only meantââ you try, but Mina was raised among the court ladies. She's well versed in the language of secret glances and hidden meaning and conveying the truth with something more palatable. She sees right through you.
âDonât tell me what he did or did not mean. You're my sister. I know when Iâm being lied to. It isn't me, is it?â
âMinaâŠâ you plead, eyes wide. You try to hide your surprise, your guilt, but itâs too late. She sees it all. She sees you. Everything youâve been trying to bury ever since you learned the truth yourself. Itâs no use now. She knows.Â
The wind on the hilltop whips against your skin, scatters your hair. Across from you, your sister wears an expression of shock. Of betrayal.Â
âItâs you.â She breathes.
âItâs not,â you shake your head fervently, lying through your teeth. âItâs not, I swearââ
âStop,â she says. Itâs the most authority youâve ever heard in your sisterâs voice. Itâs not unkind, but it is firm. âStop,â she repeats. Addressing Jaeyun and Jungwon, she adds, âIâd like to speak to my sister. Alone if we can.â
Jaeyun sends the two of you a wary look before nodding, making himself scarce. Jungwon lingers a moment longer but eventually follows suit.Â
In your mind, you hear, Are you okay?
I am, you assure. And then you turn to face your sister.Â
âPlease,â she urges, âspeak plainly with me. I am not the one named in the prophecy, am I?â
âNo,â you shake your head. When eye contact becomes unbearable, your gaze falls back to the grass.Â
Minaâs lips draw into a thin line, but there is no trace of anger in her voice when she asks, âIs it you?â
Itâs as if youâre a child again. Helpless, at the mercy of your own fickle emotions. You feel like crying, like shouting. You do neither. Instead, you nod slowly. âIt is.â
Mina exhales, a sound that gets lost in the wind. âWhy did you⊠why did you lie to meââ
âIt didnât mean to,â you rush to explain, words tumbling out faster than you can contain them. âI only found out myself a few days agoââ
âBut you had no intention of telling me.â She sees right through you. âDid you?â
âMina, please,â you beg. âHow could I? You gave up your entire life for thisââ
âGave up?â she echoes, mouth falling open as she scoffs. âFrom the moment we were taken from that river, my life was never my own. You know as well as I do that I had nothing to give.â
âWhich is why I could never tell you.â You fight the urge to reach for her. âThis wedding, your marriage, was meant to be a perfect conclusion to your story. I couldnâtââ
âAnd what a story it was! Was this truly better? To let me live the rest of my days as a lie? To leave the prophecy unfulfilled and rule over a kingdom that continued to suffer? Alongside a man who will never truly love me? To take the choice from me and make it yourself?â
âMinaâŠâ
âDid you think I would be angry?â she asks. âIâm not. Well, I am,â she amends, âbut not for the reasons you think.â
For a moment, she says nothing. She simply looks at you, really looks.Â
Youâre struck with the sudden realization that you may have misjudged your sister terribly. That all these years you spent thinking her life must be some kind of fantasy, full of material comforts and doting attention and lessons in royal etiquette, maybe she was suffering too.Â
Your suspicions are confirmed when she asks you, âDo you know what it's like to live a life that feels like it will never truly belong to you? To be prepped and pampered to become the perfect doll from someone elseâs vision? I donât even like embroidery,â she laughs. âI can barely tolerate tea ceremonies, and I find studying table manners and posture a terrible bore.âÂ
She looks at you, gaze imploring. âThe prince has never treated me with anything but polite, detached kindness. He owes me nothing more, nor do I think I truly want it from him. But do you know what it feels like to be told that you will marry someone who holds no affection for you? For whom you hold no affection? To know that you will spend the remainder of your life as little more than a prop? Even I was not delusional enough to think Iâd ever be allowed to rule, no matter what title or crown they put on my head.â
âI thoughtâŠâ you trail off, lost for words. Youâre seeing your sister more clearly than you have in your entire life, and the adjustment has you feeling off-center. âI thought you enjoyed palace life. I thought you were excited for the wedding.â
âI did not wish my burden to become yours. I cannot imagine life was easy for you either.â She looks at you, voice gentle. âYou know, I blamed myself for it all these years. For damning us to this fate.â Sheâs not angry, just in disbelief when she adds, âBut it was always you, wasnât it? Even that day at the river, all those years ago, you had to whisper his name to me.â
âYou remember that?â
âOf course I do. His name felt wrong in my mouth even then. It always has.â
âI wish I knew.â You shake your head, tears in your eyes. âAll these yearsâŠâ
âWhatâs done is done,â Across from you, her eyes are glassy, too. Youâve spent so long thinking your sister frivolous, in need of your protection. Now, you remember your age. Your birth order. She sounds wiser, older, when she says, âFrom here, we can only go forward.â
âYou donât hate me?â You hate how small your voice sounds, how unsure.
âYouâre my little sister,â Mina smiles. âI always have a little annoyance wherever youâre concerned. But not nearly as much as I have love.â
You canât help the laugh that bubbles in your throat, falls from your lips. And this time, the tears do spill over. Across from you, Mina too begins to cry.Â
The sun begins to set on the horizon. The end of a day, the fall of an illusion. The hilltop glows with the last golden rays of the day, and the two of you reach for each other. Youâre not sure who initiates the embrace, but your sister holds you close, just as you do her.Â
Eventually, the two of you separate again. Mina leans back on her hands, gaze conspiratorial when she asks, âSo how exactly do you know - whatâs your friendâs name again - Jaeyun?â She presses on before you can begin to answer. âAnd how are you on a first name basis with the prince? The two of you looked awfully cozy on that horse, you know.â
âMina!â you whine, even as color begins to rise on your cheeks.Â
Your older sister only laughs. Leaning in to ask you another question that will make you blush, the two of you stay there, seated in the grass for hours longer.Â
Thereâs a kingdom to uphold and an insurgency to address, but for now, youâre here on this hilltop, making up for lost years with a sister you think you may finally be beginning to understand.Â
âŠ..
Jungwon finds you late into the night. Despite the hour and the exhaustion weighing at your bones, sleep canât seem to find you.Â
Your sister, luckily, rests a bit easier. Sheâs asleep in one of the makeshift beds Jaeyun prepared. Afraid to draw unwanted attention with a fire, youâre sure sheâs grateful for the warmth. Even with the lingering heat of the season, the open air carries a certain chill at night.Â
Jungwon must sense your cold. He finds you where you sit, looking out towards the city. Settling in next to you, he wraps one of the blankets around your shoulders.Â
Grateful, your gaze settles on him as he sits beside you.Â
âIt went okay?â he asks. âWith your sister.â
âIt did,â you nod. âBetter than I could have hoped. This whole time, I thought I understood her, but I had no idea what she was feeling, what she was thinking.â Thereâs optimism in your voice when you add, âI can hardly believe Iâm saying this, but I think she may actually have a chance to be happier now.â
âSheâs not interested in returning to the castle?â Jungwon asks.Â
âNo.â You shake your head. Youâre done putting words in her mouth. You tell him only what she told you, earlier this evening as the two of you passed hours together. âThe king wants her dead. She doesnât want to step foot there again.â
âOf course,â Jungwon agrees. âThat must be difficult.â A beat of silence passes. He breaks it. âAnd you?â
âMe?â you question.
Jungwon nods. âWill you be going back to the castle?â
Will you? Youâve been warring with the same question all evening.Â
Instead of answering, you ask, âIs there a place for me there?â
Itâs not the castle youâre concerned with now. Then again, neither is Jungwon.Â
He doesnât hesitate for even a moment. âThere is. There always will be, so long as you will have it.â He sighs, head dipping. âI cannot pretend it will be easy. It could even be dangerous. My father is⊠difficult. But the kingdom has suffered enough. I think we all have.â
âYou have a plan, then.â You nod. You suspected as much. Youâve been running probabilities of your own, trying to craft the best steps forward. âWhat will you do? Marry the princess of the northern kingdom to appease him and thenââ
âThe northern kingdom and its princess,â Jungwon interrupts, âwill never step foot here. And marriage,â he continues, âis not something I wish to use as a bartering tool. Ever.â
âWhat is it?â you ask, breath suddenly shallow.Â
âMy plan?â he asks, âor marriage?â
âEither,â you feign nonchalance. âBoth.â
âMy plan,â he begins, âshall be revealed in due time. And as for marriage,â he pauses, turning his eyes to the stars, âI suppose that too shall be revealed in due time. When the proper⊠sentiments are involved.â
âOh, my,â you tease. Here in the starlight, under the cover of partial darkness, itâs easy to pretend your heart is skipping beats for reasons unrelated. âIs the crown prince of our kingdom trying to say that he wishes to marry for love?â
âIt could never be anything less,â he says, turning now to look at you, âwhen I know what it feels like to have a voice in my head.â
To that, you have nothing to say. At least none you're brave enough to tell him yet.Â
Instead, you join him in putting your eyes on the stars, focusing on the days ahead.Â
It wonât be easy, youâre sure. But thereâs something there that wasnât before. Hope perhaps, that your life is something you will take part in shaping, instead of being tossed around at the whims of others.Â
Dreams that you will have decisions of your own to make. Choices that may be wrong or right or exist somewhere in that gray space between. It hardly matters now. They'll be yours to make.Â
There is duty on the horizon, the threat of an uncertain future. But sitting here next to Jungwon, gazing down at the town below, you canât help but think that no matter what outside forces conspire against you and what prophecies attempt to steer your destiny, the two of you will be alright.Â
âŠ..
The end of summer always brings heavy rains. This season is no exception.Â
You watch in fall now, in heavy, thick, unrelenting sheets from your makeshift shelter in the garden gazebo.Â
Typhoons are unpredictable, and late summer rain is the same. The sky had been bone dry when you ventured out without so much as an umbrella to shield you.Â
You donât mind so much, though. Itâs become rather entertaining, in a mundane sort of way, to watch as raindrops gather on the leaves that snake around the gazebo. The vines that twist and turn, nearly covering the stone completely.Â
You only hope that Mina, wherever she and Jaeyun are now, is staying dry as well. Sheâs always been prone to catching terrible colds this time of year. Although maybe some fresh air is doing her well.Â
Itâs been less than two days since you left her on the hilltop, waving goodbye until she and Jaeyun were nothing but specks on the horizon. She looked happier even then. Lighter, somehow. Unburdened and full of that same sense of freedom youâve come to know rather well.Â
You only hope it lasts. That before too much time passes, the two of you will be able to see one another often. Speaking freely of topics as frivolous or serious as you please.Â
For now, you have the gardens. And its endless supply of rain-soaked flowers.Â
I hope Iâm not disturbing you.Â
The voice against your ear is so sudden you nearly jump in your own skin. Spinning on your heel, you find Jungwon, closing the last of the distance between you as he ascends the gazeboâs steps.Â
He wears no crown, no regalia. Only the dark, fitted attire of someone who prefers to go unnoticed. Who chooses to let his actions, not his title, speak for themselves.Â
âYou frightened me,â you admonish.Â
âMy apologies,â he bows slightly, but his grin gives him away. He meant to startle you.Â
It would seem youâre not the only one who forgot an umbrella. Although youâre not sure what Jungwonâs excuse is. He didnât come to find you until after the rain had started. And now, heâs just as thoroughly soaked as the petals outside.Â
âI hope Iâm not disrupting you,â he repeats, this time out loud.
âNot at all.â You shake your head, trying to act as if you havenât been waiting for him, for news, since the moment you stepped foot back on the castle grounds and the two of you parted ways.Â
Jungwon wonât leave you in agony of wondering any longer. âItâs done,â he tells you as a stray drop falls from his hair to his shoulder. âMy coronation is to be held in three dayâs time.â
You remember his fatherâs earlier conditions. The path to fulfilling the prophecy. The original claim that Jungwon must first marry before he can ascend the throne. You say, only partially teasing, âI hope you havenât come here to ask me to marry you.â
âWithout the prerequisite of a marriage this time,â he amends.
âHow did you do it?â
âA good old-fashioned threat.â Jungwon smiles, but thereâs no humor in it. âI told my father that I would expose his plan, his attempted murder, if he did not let me proceed with the coronation. He knew it was a losing gamble. Public favor is a currency more valuable than gold, and he knows he has little to spare.â
There are a million questions you could ask. How did he do it? How did he gather enough evidence of his fatherâs involvement to make him agree so easily? What will he do, now that the throne is nearly within grasp?
Above it all, another question rings in your mind. âAnd the prophecy?â
Your breath falters. You almost regret asking. Youâre not sure youâre prepared for a response.Â
Jungwon just looks at you. âThe prophecy remains.â
âJungwonâŠâ you sigh, trying to gather your spinning thoughts.Â
He presses forward before you have the chance. âBut you were right. I refuse to use it as a crutch. I will have a kingdom in my care in three days.â His jaw sets, suddenly solemn. âThere is plenty I can do, with or without ancient magic.â
You release your breath, not sure if the sudden feeling surging deep within you is relief or disappointment. âYouâve abandoned it, then.â
âIâmâŠâ Jungown weighs his words carefully, âletting it rest. For now, at least. Although, I do have a favor to ask.â
That intrigues you. âWhat is it?â
âI wonât ask for your hand in marriage.â Despite yourself, a thrill races through your spine at the mere prospect. âBut I do request that you stay here with me, if you so will it.âÂ
You arch a brow. âIf I will it?â
Jungwon nods. âYouâre not a prisoner. But you are a rather well-connected source of information. I could use that brain of yours to help make the transition to my reign smoother, more peaceful. I meant it, that day in my chamber. I want to be different. I want to be better.â
Itâs an echo of a similar request he made, not so long ago. You had been so unsure then, frightened of the princeâs true intentions. Too terrified of your strange connection to trust it fully.Â
Now, itâs easy to accept.Â
You mean it when you reply, âAnd for that very reason, I have every confidence you will be.â Around you, the rain begins to slow. Torrential downpour transitions to a gentle patter of scattered drops. Moisture strikes the earth in erratic patterns. It makes you bold. âIs my brain your only point of interest?â
Jungwon turns his head to the side, eyes widening in surprise. Between the two of you, heâs always been bolder, more giving in his confessions. His gaze makes quick work of scanning your features, searching for any sign of misunderstanding. Finding none, he tells you, âYou know the answer to that question.â
âIâm afraid I donât.â But the smile that stretches across your lips is playful, teasing. It only grows as you lean back from the gazeboâs rail, taking a handful of steps backwards towards the entrance. âYouâll have to elaborate.â
Youâre nearly halfway down the stairs by now, stray raindrops catching in your hair, sliding against your skin.Â
Jungwon follows, first with his eyes. And then with his feet.Â
You take another step back, just as he reaches you at the base of the stairs.Â
Youâre teasing me. He doesnât say it aloud.Â
I wouldnât dream of it. You send back.Â
Still, when he steps forward, you fall back. Itâs like a dance now. A game. One that leaves you more and more soaked with every inch you put between you and shelter.Â
Jungwon fares no better. His hair is dripping again, weighed down across his forehead.Â
He follows your movements with the practiced ease of a hunter, gaze never straying from you.
Itâs a terrible offense, you know, to torment a prince.
I should be careful, then. I can only imagine the extent of Your Highnessâs wrath.
Heâs nearly caught up to you by now, just as you reach the edge of the rose bushes.
But the garden and your boldness and the prince can only spare you for so long.Â
Just as you step to the left, ducking under the branches of a weeping willow, Jungwon decides heâs had enough of your game.
You feel it first. Warm fingers circling your rain soaked wrist. He always manages to catch you off guard, though. You expect him to pull you out, to continue this game of tag youâve begun.Â
Instead, he uses your arm as leverage, until he too is half concealed beneath the branches of the willow.Â
âPray tell, my prince,â you whisper as he closes in on your space, hair dripping, eyes locked on your mouth, âwhat is my punishment for such impudence?â
âYou must think me terribly cruel,â he whispers, breath fanning over your cheek, âto be giving out punishments so easily.â
âI think nothing of the sort,â you shake your head as his hand comes to rest against the side of your face, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His fingers splay against your jaw. Soft, desperate. âI only meant to prepare myself.â
âFor what?â he asks, voice barely audible. Heâs so close you think you could count the stars in his eyes.Â
Your hand comes to his elbow. To maintain distance or ensure he never breaks it, youâre not sure. âFor whatever Your Highness sees fit.â
His lips are nearly brushing yours now. You feel his words as much as you hear them. âYou know I hate it when you call me that.â
âVery well,â you nod, eyes fluttering shut. âJungwon.â
The pressure of his mouth is undeniable then. Light at first, he hardly dares to breathe against you. Almost as if unbidden, his second hand comes to rest at your waist, bunching your skirts near the hem.Â
His fingers against your cheek widen, tilting slightly, angling you. And then, the pressure increases. His mouth becomes more insistent against yours.Â
Itâs no longer a ghost of a kiss. Not with his hands in your hair and yours splayed helplessly against his chest.Â
Not as he presses you against the base of the tree, gasping in forgotten breath with his mouth still against your own, unwilling to break contact. Until he decides he finds the pulse point just under your jaw fascinating, that is.Â
Then, his attentions are on your neck, learning which places make you gasp, which make you whine, and his favorite of all, which make you say his name in that breathy little whimper he wants to taste right off your lips.Â
Beneath the branches, skirts soaked and hair loose, the rest of the world fades into a comfortable sort of nothingness. Thereâs nothing here now but Jungwon and the blossoming feelings that lie between you.Â
It doesnât matter if itâs prophecy or your own doing or some wonderful mix of them both. Youâve had enough of magic, of bending to its whims, forcing yourself into something that will please it.Â
You wonât marry Jungwon just because old magic foretold your fate. Instead, youâll spend long minutes, hidden beneath the branches of a weeping willow, with his lips against yours and his teeth making you gasp. Not because an old seer willed it, but because it feels good.Â
Because no matter what titles or crowns or royalty he wears on his shoulders, he will always be Jungwon. A name you knew even before you had a face to put it to. Magic is there somewhere, too. Whether itâs of your own making or far beyond your control, youâre glad itâs brought you here. To this.Â
Feelings blooming in your heart and echoes of a voice inside your mind, the future feels like something worth hoping for.Â
The kingdom is still in turmoil. People still suffer. There is work yet to be done.Â
But this feels like change, like progress. You wonât have to hide your wishes for better days to come in secret letters and illicit meetings. Youâll get to be part of something, someone with the power to enact real change.Â
You donât know what Jungwonâs coronation will bring. If the king has truly left his scheming to rest or not. Youâre not sure what the next year or day or even hour will bring.Â
But regardless of what comes to pass, youâre sure, now more than ever, that you have what you need to face it.Â
âŠ..
epilogueÂ
Keeping your footsteps light and your breath silent, you follow the familiar, winding path of the castle corridors.Â
Itâs not that youâre hiding, not really. Itâs just that you have a rather important errand to run. One that you donât wish to delay. Not even for the latest report on crop yields in the newly planted fields near the southern border. Certainly not for the details of the recently reinstated trade routes with your neighbors to the west. Even if theyâre the reason your personal favorite variety of strawberry is now widely available for all.Â
You donât even wish to be stopped to hear about the progress of the schoolhouses you helped open a matter of months ago, the literacy rates that are beginning to boom across the country as citizens, old and young, gather to learn the rather ornate reading and writing system of your kingdom.Â
Minaâs been hard at work there, if the latest letter from Jaeyun is anything to go by. Sheâs nearly developed an entirely new strategy for teaching letter formation to children.Â
Itâs amazing, your friend had reported, and you could sense his wonder even in writing. The kids actually like learning to write with her.Â
Even now, on your own stealthy mission, the thought makes you smile.Â
Finally, a handful of minutes later, you arrive at the closed door youâd been seeking. Knocking on it twice, you smile when a familiar face greets you.Â
âRiki,â you grin, âis the tailor in today?â
Riki gasps, feigning disbelief. âLook who decided to grace us with her presence today? Did I miss a holiday? A birthday? A special occasion?â
âHardly,â you roll your eyes. âMy presence is nothing special.â
âAre you kidding?â he asks. âYouâre practically the most sought after person in the castle these days. Well, besides the king, I suppose.â You canât quite help the small smile that threatened the corner of your lips at the mention of Jungwon. âI mean, thatâs why you came here at the crack of dawn, isnât it? To avoid running into anyone.â
âItâs not the crack of dawn,â you argue. âBreakfast was served an hour ago.â
âRegardless,â Riki points out, âitâs early. To answer your earlier question, no, heâs not. You even beat the tailor here.â
âHm,â you hum, considering. âCould you pass along an order, then?â
âSure,â he nods, âyour stack of dresses isnât sufficient these days?â
âDonât be ridiculous,â you shake your head. âYou know I have more than I could possibly need. Mostly thanks to you. I just⊠donât quite have the right thing for this.â
âFor what?â His brow furrows. âThat upcoming ball? When is it, again? Next month? I can do something green again, if you like.â
You shake your head.Â
âNo?â Riki turns towards the stack of fabrics. âAlright, what color then? Blue,â he suggests. âOr we just got this really gorgeous maroon silk from abroad. Drapes like a dream.âÂ
âWhat about somethingâŠâ you trail off for a moment, âwhite?â
In front of you, Riki falters, hands freezing halfway towards his stack of silks.Â
Slowly, he turns back to you. âWhite?â he echoes, eyes wide.
âYeah,â you nod, teeth pulling at the inside of your lip as your smile widens. âI think I need something white.â
genre: royalty au, soulmate au, fantasy elements, friends to lovers, angst
part one word count: 15.4k
warnings: jealousy, copious amounts of yearning, complicated family dynamics, swearing, magic and prophecies and other fantasy elements, arranged marriage, mild depictions of injuries, minor character death
soundtrack: echoes - enhypen / no way back - enhypen ft. So!YoON! / ivy - taylor swift / too much is never enough - florence & the machine / if only - raveena / die 4 u - dean
note: I am splitting this into two parts, because post block limit got me once again. It's alright though! You get to enjoy this now and look forward to the rest of the story soon. It's nearly all finished and will be posted within the next few days. For now, this is part one. I hope you enjoyyyyyy
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
In a kingdom marred by instability and unrest, a prophecy is made. Your bloodline - common, ordinary, unremarkable as it may be - will bring peace to the nation and ensure the long-lasting success of the royal family. As such, your elder sister has been in an arranged engagement with Jungwon, the crown prince, since before either of you could walk.
But despite the prophecy, people continue to suffer. The kingdom continues to decline. Cracks continue to form. And when time eventually reveals that you, not her, have a strange, supernatural connection to the prince, everything begins to change.
or, every word you say is on repeat. every thought of you is bittersweet. Â
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
The palace gardens are most stunning at sunset. Bordering the eastern gate of the royal pavilion, the grounds are extensive. Flowers in full bloom, winding labyrinths, crystal blue ponds that nearby ducklings make a habit of visiting.Â
There's a serenity here. One that becomes especially prominent as the last rays of sunlight begin to die on the horizon. The roses face the light, too. As if they want to kiss the day goodbye.
Wordlessly, you run a gentle finger over a stem, careful to avoid the thorns. Itâs quiet. The only sounds that reach your ears are the gentle flow of a nearby stream and soft calls of birds in the trees above.Â
One, a blue jay, captures your attention as it flits between branches. Captivated, you watch as it jumps to a different tree. Dipping its beak as if to assess its new landing spot. It doesnât stay in one place long. Restless, you think. Itching for something new. Or perhaps craving the comfort of familiarity. Itâs difficult to tell.
You inhale sharply at the prick of pain that suddenly radiates from your fingertip. In your absentmindedness, you threw caution to the wind. Retracting your hand from the rose stem, youâre met with a tiny drop of ruby red blood. Â
At least, you consider, life here hasnât yet been able to strip you of your ability to feel. Even if it is pain. And surface level, at that.
Letting your fingers drop to your side, the singular drop of blood rolls to the tip of your finger, hesitating for a moment before falling to the ground below.
Swallowed up by grass and dirt and earth. Now forever a minuscule, insignificant part of the palace around it.
Again, you turn your gaze to the sky. The trees that line it.
The blue jay tests one last branch before it inevitably decides itâs had enough. With one final assessment of the garden, it spreads its wings. And then, with little fanfare, flies in the direction of the sunset.
You watch until it becomes nothing but a blip. A blur of motion on the horizon.Â
Itâs long gone by the time the last rays of light vanish at the edge of the earth.Â
The garden isn't dark, not entirely. The lanterns and torches that intermittently line the perimeter make it easy enough to find your path, as long as you know your way around.Â
But they are a bit more conducive to stealth, to concealing things that donât want to be found. Avoiding the most well lit paths, you let quiet, expert steps carry you through the winding labyrinth until you arrive at the stables.Â
The palace horses have been fed and groomed for the night. You know. Youâve memorized the stable boyâs routine. And found that even on the nights he strays from it, is quite willing to turn a blind eye under the correct circumstances.Â
Just like youâve memorized which horses are less predisposed to whinny when taken out for the evening.
Just like youâve memorized which palace gates are less heavily patrolled. What time the guards switch shifts. Which ones take longest to station themselves into position.
The palace is a well-oiled machine. But even the most streamlined systems have their flaws, their cracks. The best part about being someone of little consequence within the palace walls is that you have ample time to find them.Â
As long as youâre present and accounted for on the rare occasion your presence is required, no one notices if you slip through the gates most nights. No one cares if the dark circles beneath your eyes become a bit more prominent every harvest season.Â
No one keeps track of your unusually high number of trips to the tailorâs assistant for all of the strange tears and rips you always seem to have in your clothes.Â
Closing in on the stable, you wrap a silent hand around the handle. The door creaks, ever so slightly, when you open it. Despite the fact that you know there are no patrols in this area this time of evening, you can't help the way your heartbeat picks up speed anyway.Â
You close the door behind you, just as quietly as you opened it. Taking quick, measured steps, you approach your favorite horseâs stall.Â
Rounding the corner, your brow furrows in confusion when you find it empty. Glancing around in worry, it takes your eyes a moment to land on the tiny, folded piece of paper wedged between the stall door and the wall.Â
With steady hands, you pull it free. Unfolding the paper, you bring it close to your eyes in the dim light.Â
Itâs a letter, you realize, once you open the paper fully. From the stable boy. Youâd recognize Sunghoonâs rather neat handwriting anywhere.Â
Sorry, it reads.Â
Blossomâs front left hoof was bothering her, so sheâll be in the western stable until the vet has a chance to assess her. Maeumâs in the fourth stall from the door. Heâs not quite as quiet as Blossom, but heâs fast and wicked smart. Have him back by dawn.Â
And at the bottom lies one final instruction.Â
Burn this letter.Â
Sighing, you read the message once more. Twice. Itâs hardly ideal. You and Blossom have come to know one another like the back of your hand, but you suppose youâll have to make due. You tuck the letter into the pocket of your dark, fitted jacket, fingers brushing against the small stack of papers already there.Â
And then you look up again, silently counting four stalls from the door.Â
Approaching slowly, you pull the door open as quietly as you can, doing your best not to startle Maeum.Â
And you know heâs only trying to help, but one glance at the stallion in front of you has you wondering what the hell Sunghoon is thinking.Â
Blossom was built for stealth. With a midnight black coat and the softest whinny youâve ever heard, she always knew when you needed her to be quiet. The perfect trait for late night, unauthorized rendezvous from the most secure place in the kingdom.Â
Maeum, however, is white. Startlingly so. And the second you have the stall door open enough to reveal yourself, he whinnies at you. Loudly.Â
âShhhhh,â you whisper, eyes widening in panic. You hold your open palms towards him, hoping heâll understand the sign that youâre not a threat. âItâs okay.â
It takes him a minute. With large, intelligent eyes that seem almost a bit too cognizant, Maeum takes a moment to assess you. Finally, with one final, and thankfully much quieter, sigh, he acquiesces, tilting his neck towards you.Â
Reaching forward, you stroke his mane in a long, gentle rhythm.Â
âItâs okay,â you assure once again. âWhat do you say, Maeum? Are you up for an adventure?â
It sounds ridiculous to think it, much less say it, but you swear something sparkles in his eyes at your question. In either case, he lets you saddle him without so much as a peep of protest.Â
And when you climb up onto the saddle, he gives only one experimental stomp before settling into stillness. Acceptance, you think.Â
Turning his reigns towards the eastern gate, you check the position of the moon just beginning to rise in the sky. Itâs late. Nearly time for the next guard shift switch.Â
Perfect, you think.Â
And without so much as a glance back, you and Maeum are off into the night.Â
âŠ..
âWhat the hell is that?â Jaeyun is whispering, albeit rather harshly, despite the fact that this hilltop is isolated. WIth the city stretching far beneath you, thereâs no one else around for miles.Â
Sliding off of Maeumâs back, you gently pull him a few steps forward before offering an apple from the bag at your waist.Â
âA horse.â You donât even bother to look in Jaeyunâs direction. You already know what youâll find if you do. With a friendship that spans nearly ten years, his expressions have become second nature to predict.Â
âYes, thank you very much.â His voice drips with sarcasm. âI can see that itâs a horse. Why is it white?â
âI donât know,â you shrug. âSomething to do with recessive genes, probably.â
âAre you trying to get spotted? A coat that bright practically screams âIâm from the palace.ââ
âBlossom was out of commission,â you explain. Finally turning to face your friend, you add, âSunghoon said one of her hooves is hurting. Sheâll have to see the vet.â
âAnd this was the next best option?â Jaeyun eyes your substitute horse warily. âHeâs so⊠pristine. I mean, seriously. If you told me he was the princeâs horse, I wouldnât even question it.â
The sudden mention of the prince has you curious. Does he have a horse? You suppose he must, but the thought of him doing anything other than attending strategy meetings and making carefully curated appearances with your sister at his side is almost unimaginable.Â
Shaking the prince from your thoughts, you argue, âItâs not like Blossomâs exactly shabby.âÂ
âNo, but she is far less conspicuous.â
âI still managed to get out, didnât I?â
âPlease.â He rolls his eyes. âPalace security is lax these days.â
âEasy for you to say. Youâre not the one putting it to the test every night.â
Jaeyunâs lips part like he wants to say something else, like he wants to keep the banter going, but then he looks at you. Really looks.Â
Takes in the deep shadows beneath your eyes. The exhaustion that has your shoulder slumping forward, words losing their bite around the edges. The work the two of you do is taxing in nature, but few people ever feel the strain as acutely as you do.Â
At this point, youâre practically living a double life.Â
During the day, youâre the younger sister to the future heir of the throne. Itâs true that youâre largely left alone. While she attends dress fittings and lessons in etiquette, youâre left to your own devices. But that doesnât mean there arenât still appearances to maintain. Expectations to meet. Like it or not, youâre still a product, a belonging of the palace. Youâre expected to maintain a smile and respond appropriately when spoken to. Itâs a shallow life, yes, but draining in its own right.Â
And with the wedding date creeping closer and closer, youâre doing your best to provide support to your older sister. Even if the distance between the two of you only ever seems to widen.Â
And then there are the nights. While Mina and the rest of the palace are asleep, youâre usually out on an errand like this. Meeting Jaeyun on a remote hilltop with a fresh stack of secrets to trade.Â
Because no matter how picture perfect life in the palace appears from the outside, there are cracks in every surface. Pressure points in every household.Â
Much like you, there are plenty of people inside the palace walls who donât come from money or nobility. Theyâre cogs in the machine. Their existence, their purpose, is to serve the crown.Â
Like Sunghoon, the stable boy. And Sunoo, one of the groundskeeperâs assistants. Jay, who works in the kitchens, and Riki, the tailorâs apprentice.Â
Despite the roles and the palace theyâve sworn to serve, they have identities outside of their titles, just like you. They have family and friends and people they love that live outside the palace walls. Who suffer from the hunger and unrest and turmoil the royals could easily mitigate if they had any interests outside of themselves and their firm grip on power.Â
Itâs how you ended up in the palace in the first place. Power. Or, at least, the illusion of it.Â
Sixteen long years ago, three years after you were born, the royal seer became gravely ill. It wasnât all too devastating, considering that for several years, the royal family had stopped relying on prophecy and started relying on military power to maintain their control of the land.Â
But it was considered bad luck to lose a seer, and considering that the old woman had no children or family to carry on her legacy, the king became nervous. Ancient myths of crumbling kingdoms and vanishing wealth after the death of a seer began to haunt him.Â
With a young son of his own, the only heir to the throne, the king was determined to protect his family at all costs.Â
He visited the seer, as she lay in her deathbed. And he begged her for one final vision. One last prophecy that would ensure the longevity of his reign, the safety of his family.Â
Barely cognizant, the seer used the last of her remaining power to reach through the veil and foretell one final prophecy.Â
The kingâs son, now just past his fourth birthday, would live a long, prosperous life. He would succeed the throne on his twenty-first birthday with little difficulty. He would enjoy a stable reign with absolute power and adoration from the kingdom at large.Â
But there was one condition. He must marry first. His queen would not come from nobility. She would bear no wealth, have no resources that the royal family could possibly benefit from. Instead, she would have a connection to the prince. One born of ancient magic, one that supersedes mortal understanding and wisdom.Â
She would be the daughter of a blacksmith, the seer told him. He would find her before the end of a fortnight. With flowers in her hair and the ability to tell him his sonâs, the princeâs name without ever hearing it. After all, it was customary to wait until a royal childâs fifth birthday before publicly announcing their name.Â
The king begged for more information. The kingdom was vast, and blacksmiths were as abundant as trees. But the seer has used the last of her energy. Her heart had stopped beating. And his pleas fell on unhearing ears.Â
Still, it unfolded just as she foretold.Â
And your life was swept out from beneath your feet when you were three years old.Â
The memories are faint, hazy around the edges. It happened so long ago, and you were so very young. But you do remember playing with Mina near the river. Finding flowers to weave in each otherâs hair. A man, scary and strange, approaching you both.Â
He asked only one question.Â
âWhat is my sonâs name?â
As children, Mina was always the braver between the two of you. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked at the king and whispered.
âJungwon.â
The king had only wanted her. But your parents, struggling to keep their daughters fed and cared for, begged him to take you as well. In a rare stroke of kindness or perhaps just impatience, he agreed.Â
You were raised in the palace, parallel to your sister but never quite touching. After all, she was a miracle. A beacon. A prophecy come to life.Â
You were nothing but extra baggage. An unextraordinary and damningly unimportant presence that faded into the castle walls as easily as moonlight on a dying day.Â
You didnât hate the palace. People there didnât waste their kindness on you, but they werenât cruel. You had everything you could ever need, and every month, you were allowed to leave the palace walls with your sister and a chaperone to visit home.Â
For ten long years, your life proceeded in similar strokes. You studied. You played. You wandered. You felt moments of joy learning to ride a horse for the first time and swim in the lake without sinking. You felt the icy grip of loneliness, of isolation. Of being left in the dust as your sister began to take on more and more of her role as the future queen.Â
In the dead of one particularly brutal winter, you learned to knit. Your monthly visit to your parents was approaching soon, and you thought your mother might like a warm pair of mittens. Thought your father might appreciate a new scarf. One without holes and the faint scent of dust and metal that always lingered no matter how many times it was washed.Â
When you, your sister, and your chaperone finally set out, snow piling around you as you peered through the carriage window, dread was already gathering in your stomach. You werenât sure why, but something was wrong. You could feel it, deep in your bones.
The closer you came to your parentâs home, the stronger the feeling became. By the time your feet dragged up to the doorstep, nausea was rolling so hard in your stomach you thought you might actually be sick.Â
What greeted you inside was no remedy for illness.Â
It was the cold, they told you. Frostbite. Weakened immune systems. While you had been huddling behind blankets and fire hearths inside the palace, your parents froze to death.Â
You were thirteen, Mina fourteen.Â
You didnât want to hate the palace, the nobility, the royal family. Even then, you understood how inextricably you were bound to them. How much of your fate rested between the fingers of their iron grip.Â
But the strongest thing you felt that day wasnât sorrow or loss or even despair.Â
It was hatred. Burning, deep, fiery hatred.Â
You hated the way they told you these kinds of things were common in winter. The way the king didnât look the slightest bit surprised to hear the news. The way the death of a commoner was as revolutionary as sunset, as predictable as sunrise.Â
Jaeyun had lost his parents too, that very same winter. Only he didnât have a palace to return to. Just the same four walls that the only family he ever had passed away in.Â
The mittens meant for your mother were too big on his hands, but they were still warm. And that was enough. Combined with your shared sorrow, shared tragedy, shared hatred, it was enough to build a friendship. A resistance.Â
Even now, thinking back, you only remember one person in the palace bothering to check on you. To ask how you were.Â
Hidden in the depths of the library, you had been searching for something to distract yourself. Something to numb the pain of losing both parents in a single day.Â
The voice that came behind you was careful, quiet. âI heard about what happened.â
Started, you whipped around with wide eyes, book of fables falling from your fingers and landing with a dull thud by your feet.Â
Across from you, scant feet away, stood your sisterâs betrothed. The prince. Jungwon.Â
You gave him no response, brows furrowing.Â
âIâm sorry,â he continued. âYou must be devastated.â He was only one year your senior, but the gap between you felt larger. You had been educated, yes, but not in the manner of princes. He used words you didnât fully understand and spoke with the gentle grace of a scholar youâd never be.Â
âIâŠâ You trailed off. It was hard for the initial shock to wear off. In the last ten years, you can count on one hand the number of times youâve been in the same room as the prince. Youâre not sure if heâs ever spoken to you directly before. But even in your grief, you remembered some of your propriety. Your curtsey wasnât nearly deep enough, but the prince was kind enough to let your misstep slide. âThank you, Your Highness.â
His lips dipped at the edges. âPlease, ___. You donât have to call me that. Just Jungwon is fine.â
But even then, in your adolescent brain, it felt wrong. He was a prince. The future heir to the country. And you were nothing but a blip. One prophecy and a stroke of luck away from dying alone in a freezing house with no one to mourn you.Â
You didnât want there to be any familiarity, any common ground between you and the prince. It was all an illusion, anyway. The two of you would never share anything but a connection through your older sister, a girl he never would have looked at twice under different circumstances.Â
âThank you, Your Highness,â you repeated, voice guarded, âfor your condolences.âÂ
Something had flickered in the crown princeâs eyes then. Disappointment, contempt, you couldn't quite be sure.Â
In the end, it didnât matter. Quiet as the stray cats you sometimes crossed paths with in the stable, he had only turned and left the same way he came.
Now, years later, sitting on a hilltop with Jaeyun, you can only wonder if the prince remembers that short-lived conversation, too. If he revels in his palace comforts or finds them rather stifling. If heâs excited for his upcoming wedding or dreads it with every fiber of his being.Â
If he has any idea that the sister of his betrothed who refuses to call him anything but his title, along with several members of the palace staff beneath his nose, engage regularly in treason.Â
Pulling Sunghoonâs note, along with a stack of others, from your pocket, you turn to your friend. âEnough about horses. I have a new round of reports.âÂ
âAnything of note?â
âNot particularly.â You shake your head. âJay says the kitchen is operating normally, although a few spices have been difficult to come by these days. Potential disruptions to trade routes on the western border, maybe.âÂ
âThat could be.â Jaeyun frowns. âIâve been hearing about some recent skirmishes up in that area. What about Riki? That old tailor he works for is an awful gossip.â
âUsually, yes,â you agree, âbut these days heâs quite consumed with a certain white gown.â The flatness in your voice is difficult to miss.Â
Jaeyun pauses, eyes scanning you warily. Finally, he ventures, âHow is that going? I mean, itâs pretty soon right, the wedding? How are you feeling about things?â
âItâs proceeding normally,â you tell him, ignoring the last part of his question.
âRight,â he doubles down. âAnd you?â
âDonât do that.â You shake your head. âIâm fine. Besides, it doesnât matter.âÂ
He looks like he has more to say, but youâre pressing forward before he can question you further. âSunoo had an interesting report, actually. It looks like crop yields may be down this season. Theyâre being stingy with the plans for the new fields.â
âThatâs odd,â Jake frowns. âThe weatherâs been pristine. Ideal for cultivation.â
You give him a meaningful glance. âIt must not be the weather, then.â
âSkirmishes on the western border, lower crop yields even though the last census still shows significant population growth.â He pauses for a moment, considering. âItâs strange.âÂ
âItâs suspicious,â you amend. âEveryoneâs convinced that a wedding and a new king will make things better, but the royals are doing what theyâve always done. Theyâre hiding things. Overexaggerating peace reports. Underreporting crimes. Theyâre building an illusion. Trying to create a population that trusts them blindly.â You shake your head. âItâs not a coincidence.âÂ
âMaybe,â Jaeyun considers. But heâs always been more optimistic than you. âBut border skirmishes are nothing new. And low spice and crop production doesnât automatically mean anything bad. Maybe theyâre planning to relocate some of the fields. There were rumors about more arable land down south, too, remember? And who knows, maybe that old seer was right. Maybe this wedding will lead to a long period of peace.â
There arenât many people who youâve shared the truth with. Even now, saying the word prophecy makes you feel like a fool.Â
You scoff. âDonât tell me you believe in magic.â
âWhy not? Jaeyun shrugs. âIâll believe in what I can. People here have suffered. Food shortages. Increased crime.â He pauses for a moment, gaze on the horizon. âLong winters. If believing in magic means better days are coming, then Iâll take it.â
You shake your head. âBelieving in something doesnât make it real.â
âDoesnât it?â he counters. âBelieving in something is the only thing that makes it real.âÂ
To that, you have nothing to say. You wish you could agree, that blind faith could guide you somewhere worth being. But time and trial and error have taught you to only believe in tangible things.Â
Things you can wrap your fingers around. Hold between your own two hands.Â
Looking down at the city from the top of the hill, itâs easy to believe that nothing there is real. That this world is made only of you and Jaeyun and his optimistic dreams for a better future.Â
The silence extends comfortably before he breaks it, gaze against the side of your face.Â
âYouâre sure youâre okay?â Jaeyun speaks softly, carefully, as if trying to soften his words. âI donât mean this in a bad way, but you just look⊠tired.âÂ
âYeah, well, never sleeping will do that to a girl.â
Jaeyun isnât so easily convinced. âYouâre sure thatâs all it is? You havenât been having more of those⊠visions?â
You sigh. âNo, but ââ
âBut?â
âTheyâre not visions,â you correct. âNot exactly. I donât see images, or anything. Itâs just⊠feelings.â
âFeelings?â Jaeyun presses.Â
âYeah,â you nod. âLike intuition, almost. Sometimes itâs this overwhelming urge that Iâm in the right place or the idea I have is true even though I donât have any real evidence. But sometimes, itâs the opposite. Like everything is wrong and my body wants to fight it.â
He frowns. Extends his arm as if he wants to wrap it around your shoulders where he sits next to you. Drops it back to his side as he thinks better of it. âThat sounds exhausting.â
âIt is. Itâs like using an entirely different part of my brain. Overusing it. Until itâs sore and aching and I canât think straight. And sometimes⊠never mind.â You trail off, shaking your head. It sounds too ridiculous to say out loud.Â
âWhat?â Jaeyun urges. He wonât let it go so easily.Â
You sigh. âSometimes, I have these thoughts. But they donât⊠they donât feel like mine. I mean, theyâre in my brain, in my mind, but they feel like theyâre coming from somewhere else. Like itâs someone elseâs voice.â
His brow furrows. âHave you told anyone? Seen a healer or anything?â
âAnd then what?â you scoff. âHave them tell the king that the future queenâs sister has gone insane? Is a liability to the crown and should be locked away for the wellbeing of the kingdom? Yeah, right.â
âStill,â he insists. âIt sounds like there could be something else going on.â
You shake your head. âIâm sure Iâm just tired. All these nights were bound to catch up to me eventually. Iâll sleep more the next few days, and Iâm sure it will all be fine. Everything will go back to normal.â
âOkay,â he finally agrees, even if you can tell he doesnât want to. Doesnât quite believe you. âBut I want you to tell me if it doesnât change or if it gets worse. You know you can talk to me about these things too, ___. It doesnât always have to be border skirmishes and crop yield reports.â
Despite yourself, you canât help the way your heart swells a bit with fondness. âI know,â you nod. âThank you, Jaeyun. You know, youâre my only real friend.â
âWell, now thatâs just sad.â But his grin is stretching ear to ear. Even when you land a slightly too hard punch right on his solar plexus.Â
And a handful of hours later, tucked into a bed thatâs never quite felt like yours, sleep begins to tug at the edges of your consciousness.Â
Despite your exhaustion, rest doesnât come easy. Especially when that familiar, unpleasant feeling starts to build in your bones. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a deep discomfort. A distinct feeling of wrongness. Of being misplaced. Not belonging.Â
It radiates through your limbs, over your skin, screams in your mind until you feel it everywhere, from the erratic beat of your heart to the very tips of your fingers.Â
Until finally, finally, exhaustion outweighs the sensation.Â
Still, when you fall asleep, itâs with a singular phrase looping through your mind on repeat. Like the mutterings of someone out of their mind. Like a demented chant you canât escape from.Â
Not her. Not her. Not her. Not her. Not her. Not her.Â
Not her.Â
âŠ..
One of your favorite perks of being someone of little consequence within the palace walls is that your mornings are mostly undisturbed. Other than the illicit errands of your own making, that is.Â
Often, the meager hours of sleep you manage to find are here, extending late into the morning as sunlight streams through your window in increasingly long slants.Â
Dawn had nearly broken the horizon by the time Maeum was tucked safely back into his stable. Usually, the sun is allowed to creep across the sky for hours before anyone is in need of you.Â
Tucked away in the small but pleasant room youâd been given once you were old enough to require very little supervision, you sleep. Itâs a wing of the palace rarely touched by anyone other than an occasional palace maid.Â
Your window is small, but the west-facing orientation makes the sun dance beautifully across your few belongings and gives you a rather stunning view of the palace grounds.Â
Most mornings, itâs the birds that wake you. Or the general chatter of a day in a motion.Â
Increasingly, itâs been a feeling in your gut, the same one you tried explaining to Jaeyun last night. A voice in your head that youâre sure doesn't belong to you.Â
Rarely, if ever, is it a knock on your door. Especially not one that thuds heavy and harsh against the quiet stillness of mid-morning.Â
Startled from slumber only a handful of hours after finding it, the knock comes again. This time, even louder than before. It pounds in a way that rattles your door and has a deep sense of unease surging through your stomach.Â
âOne moment,â you call, but your voice is weak as you search for a robe to throw over your night clothes. Your hands are frantic, shaking, as the pounding starts again.Â
Finally, you locate your plain, deep burgundy robe. Shrugging it over your shoulders, you wrap it around your body. Hardly daring to draw a breath, you take small, light steps to the door.Â
With no peephole, dread gathers deep in your body as you turn the lock, slowly opening your bedroom door.Â
Across from you stands a man. Fist raised to land another round of knocks, youâre sure, but his position is also perfect for delivering blows. Despite yourself, you flinch.Â
At the sight of you, he drops his arm. The tension in his posture, the tight set of his shoulders, remain.Â
âMiss ___.â His voice is as tense as he is. Thereâs no question in his voice. He knows who you are.Â
Dressed in simple, utilitarian garments, you assess him for any hint of his position. Well acquainted with the inner workings of the palace, you know what the people who serve it wear.Â
This man puzzles you. Thereâs no kingdom sigil over his heart to mark him a guard, no silver cuff links to identify him as a healer. Just loosely fitted, nondescript dark clothing. Not entirely dissimilar from what you wear on your nighttime errands. Built for stealth.Â
âI am her,â you nod. Your gaze becomes more narrow in its assessment the more dead ends you run into. âMay I ask what this inquiry is about?â
He spares little fanfare. âYouâve been summoned, Miss.â
âSummoned?â you echo. Immediately, your mind jumps to terrible conclusions. Youâve been noticed. Youâve been seen. Youâve been caught.Â
Forcing a steady breath, you reel in your thoughts. Panic isnât logical. The most likely reason for your summoning is surely something to do with your sister. Perhaps sheâs requested your presence for some flippant reason. Perhaps sheâs come down with a head cold and craves the nostalgia of a once familiar presence.Â
Still, your heart wonât rest entirely until your question is answered. âMay I ask by whom?â
The man just looks at you for a moment, eyes revealing nothing but a faint trace of distrust. âCome with me, Miss.â
His words ring with finality. Brow furrowing, you feel your heart lurch somewhere near your throat. Surely they wouldnât be so vague if it was merely something concerning your sister.Â
But you also know better than to argue with a summoning in the palace. Especially from a man whose uniform likely hides at least a dagger, if not a weapon of more lethal consequence.Â
Shifting slightly, you confirm the location of your own small, metal blade. Tucked away between your innermost layer of clothing and the warmth of your inner thigh, it sits snug to your skin. Even clothed in nothing but a nightdress and your rather flimsy dressing gown, even in slumber, it remains.Â
Forcing away the waver that threatens your voice, you agree, âIâll just take a moment to dress andââ
The man shakes his head. âWeâll go now.â
Any last semblance of calm is shaken from your system. Youâre barely dressed. Your hair is an unkempt mess around your shoulders.Â
Itâs improprietous to walk around the castle like this. Itâs scandalous.Â
You falter for a moment, confusion and fear marring your features. But the man remains stoic, insistent in his unrelenting posture.Â
âVery well,â you nod. Your voice is small as you cling to your last threads of composure.Â
Your bedroom door closes behind you with a quiet click. You canât bring yourself to spare a backward glance, nor can you shake the deep growing sense of unease, as you fall into step just behind the manâs shoulder.Â
At the very least, he doesnât seem interested in parading you in a state of undress around the castle. With the quick, practiced steps of someone well-versed in stealth, he leads you silently through winding corridors and back passages.Â
Just who is this man? Only an expert could lead you so wholly undetected through the winding maze of palace passageways.Â
Even you, with your wealth of knowledge, are having a hard time keeping up as you try to commit your path to memory.Â
Eyes tracing over the manâs back, your mind spins through plausible explanations. Eventually, you land on two.Â
Either resistance forces have fully infiltrated the castle or your illicit activities have been discovered. The thought sends a shiver down your spine.Â
Youâre not sure what they would do, if they discovered your role in the network of resistors actively working against the crown.Â
Scenarios have crossed your mind on sleepless nights. Perhaps youâd be brought in front of the king. Made to answer for your crimes and tortured to reveal the names of others doing the same. Perhaps you wouldnât have to speak at all. Considered an enemy and a traitor to the king, maybe youâd just be executed without trial.
You wonder what would happen. If your sister would still be wed to the prince. Or if your treachery would be dire enough to overrule even something as sacred as prophecy.Â
Footsteps never faltering, you suppose itâs not worth mulling over now. Youâll know soon enough. The man who you follow now is either a friend or a foe.Â
And in either case, heâs leading you somewhere. To something. Perhaps someone.Â
Whatever your fate is, it doesnât rest on a messengerâs shoulders.Â
You reach the end of another impossibly long, dimly lit passage. The man in front of you stops so suddenly you nearly walk straight into his back.Â
Startled, your eyes widen as he turns to you.Â
He pauses a moment, something almost apologetic in his gaze. âIâm sorry, Miss, but Iâm afraid Iâll have to conceal your sight from here.âÂ
Reaching into his pocket, he reveals a nondescript black scrap of fabric. Itâs frayed at the edges, just slightly. A makeshift blindfold.Â
âIâm not permitted to see?â This time, you canât quite contain the tremble in your voice. You work in dying daylight, yes, but the thought of losing your vision frightens you more than you care to admit.Â
The man only shakes his head.Â
Taking a deep breath, you nod. As if he needs your permission to secure the fabric over your eyes, tying the ends into a firm knot against the crown of your head.Â
With a surprisingly gentle grip, he places your hand against the crook of his elbow. And then youâre walking again.Â
At first, you try to remember your steps.Â
Straight. Approximately seventy paces. A left turn, followed rapidly by a right.Â
But the longer minutes continue to pass, the more unsure you become. Was it a right turn followed by a left? Or two right turns in a row?Â
Your mind begins to falter, unsure of itself. Unease increases steadily.
Surely if this were the work of the resistance, blindfolding you would be unnecessary. You would need to learn this path, find your way back to their stronghold independently.Â
You refuse to panic. Youâre alone with nothing but a dagger strapped to your thigh. With every step, it begins to feel more and more like a wooden sword. A table knife.Â
You think of your sister. Of Sunghoon and the others.Â
Of Jaeyun.Â
You never got to say goodbye.Â
The arm beneath your hold pauses, steadies the both of you. You hear hinges protesting as a door opens. And then you're going down.Â
Down, down, down an endless set of steps. So far that youâre sure you must be walking yourself straight to the deepest castle dungeons.Â
Minutes pass, or maybe hours. Itâs difficult to tell, in this blanket of darkness.Â
Until suddenly, youâre on flat ground again. The manâs voice, still curt, instructs, âYou may remove your blindfold.â
Pushing the fabric upwards, it doesnât take your eyes long to adjust.Â
The lighting is dim here, but far warmer than youâd expect so deep beneath the ground. Glancing around, you find yourself in the center of a small chamber. Seats, full of cushions and fine fabrics, line the spaces where you expected to find prison cells.Â
Thereâs a carpet on the ground. One embroidered by expert hands, if the detail work is anything to go by. Paintings on the walls. Landscapes, primarily. Scenes from flowing rivers and dense forests and wide, open fields blossoming in the springtime.Â
There are maps, too. Of the kingdom and its neighbors. Some that center the castle and others that extend far beyond it. You could easily locate your childhood home if given a few seconds to concentrate .Several are marked with ink. Scribbles, lines, symbols you donât recognize but wish you had a chance to study.Â
And in front of you, at the head of the room, in a chair that is no throne but bleeds authority all the same, sits the crown prince Yang Jungwon.Â
Immediately, you drop into a curtsey. Even under the strangest of circumstances, it would seem that old habits die hard.Â
âYour Highness,â you breathe, gaze trained on the floor as your heart hammers against your ribcage.Â
When the prince speaks, itâs not to you. âGood heavens, Heeseung, did you drag the girl out of bed?â
Remembering your current state of dress, heat gathers in your cheeks. Youâre suddenly grateful for your position that obscures your face from view. Although you rather wish the ground would just swallow you whole.Â
âYou said it was an urgent matter,â the man, Heeseung, explains. âThat no time was to be wasted.â
âI didnâtâŠâ The princeâs words trail to a sigh. âPlease, Miss ____,â he addresses you. âStand.â
Rising to full height, your eyes make slow work of trailing the ground in front of you, flickering over the carpet beneath your feet without really seeing any of it, continuing forwards until your head stands straight on your shoulders, eyes landing square on the kingdomâs only son. Your sisterâs betrothed.Â
For a moment, he just looks back at you, lips slightly parted.Â
You suppose the prince is handsome, in an untouchable sort of way. Your sister has always spoken highly of his looks, and you canât fault her for it.Â
Dark hair kisses his cheekbones, frames delicate, almost feline features. His skin is smooth, unblemished. High angles and sharp lines and the prominent, traceable slope of his nose, his jaw, his neck.Â
The prince wears a lithe frame, coiled in muscle won from function, from use. Long afternoons on horseback, refining skills in archery and swordsmanship.Â
And his eyes. God, his eyes. Sharp and distinguished. Burdened with the knowledge of a scholar and diplomacy of a politician. Assessing, searching, reflecting the few sources of light in this chamber like theyâre made of stolen stars.Â
Deep beneath the castle, time holds little meaning. But you know it canât be much later than noon. Suddenly, youâre struck with the strangest urge to see him in sunlight. Watch it dance over his royal features with favor.Â
Across from you, the prince does the same. He assesses you, silent as his eyes find new places to land. Youâre not sure what heâs looking for. What he finds. But eventually, you grow tired of the impasse.Â
âForgive me, Your Highness, for speaking out of turn.â The prince takes the slight with nothing more than an arched eyebrow. âBut if I may, I would like to know the meaning behind this⊠visit.â
âYouâre bold, Miss ____.â Itâs the second time heâs said your name, and it rattles something deep inside you. âFirst you steal a manâs horse and then you speak out of turn to beg him for answers.â
Thereâs no trace of malice in his voice, but your blood runs cold all the same.Â
âForgive me,â you repeat, chest tightening, âbut Iâm not sure I understandââ
âAllow me to be plain, then.â he interrupts. âLet us establish a common truth first. Last night, approximately five bell chimes after the midnight hour, you left the castle grounds.â
Panic claws at your throat. âYour Highness, Iââ
The prince wonât hear your excuses. âAll I require is a simple true or false.â
Thereâs no use lying. He knows. He knows.Â
Rocks forming in the pit of your stomach, you whisper, âTrue.â
âExcellent,â he levels, voice betraying nothing. âWeâve established one truth, then. Now, for our second. When you fled, you did so on horseback.â
The white horse. That damn white horse. You want to laugh at the irony, at the terrible absurdity of it all. Jaeyun said it himself:Â
âIf you told me he was the princeâs horse, I wouldnât even question it.â
Now, all you can do is stand as dread gathers in your gut. Was this all some sort of elaborate scheme? Was the note from Sunghoon falsely planted? Is Sunghoon a palace spy?
Your mind is whirring. Against every nerve in your body screaming in protest, you whisper, âTrue.â
âRight. This horse, heâs kept in the eastern stable, near the gardens. Responds to the name Maeum.â
âTrue, Your Highness.â
âI suppose you may not have known,â the prince pauses, âbut Maeum is my horse. He was a gift, actually, for my sixteenth birthday.â
The words are tumbling out before you can stop them, âForgive me your highness, please.â Dropping to your knees, you plead for your life, âI meant no disrespect to you or your stables. It was foolish, I know, but I was craving a bit of fresh air, and Maeum seemed to be the horse with the best temperament. I had no idea he belonged to Your Highness. If I had, I would have neverââ
âFresh air?â The princeâs voice is controlled, but something simmers beneath it. As if he knows something you donât. âIs that how itâs referred to these days?â
âI mean no disrespect, Your Highness. The air inside castle grounds is of course excellent, as wellââ
âI am not concerned about air quality but rather your excuse itself.â The prince leans forward, eyes narrowing. âUnless fresh air suddenly refers to trading insider secrets about crop production and diplomatic peace reports, then Iâm afraid I find your explanation rather lacking.â
No.
No.
No no no no no no.
He knows. The crown prince knows. Youâre not sure how much, but it's enough. Itâs treason. Itâs a death sentence.
This chamber may not look like a prison, but you're suddenly confronted with the reality that you very likely wonât make it out of here alive.
âPlease, Iââ Begging for your life feels useless. âPlease, my sister. She has nothing to do with this, I swear.â
A crease forms between his eyebrows. âIâm not⊠your sister has no place in this conversation.â
Oh, thank the heavens. If nothing else, at least you can rest knowing your sister wonât be punished for your crimes. âThank you, Your Grace, for your mercy. I know my life holds little value, but I swear to you that if you spare me, Iââ
âYou misunderstand. Please, Miss ___. Lift your head.â
You remain on your knees, but you know better than to ignore a princeâs command. Dragging your head up, you lift your eyes until your chin is parallel to the floor.
Looking you directly in the eye, he says, a bit softer, âIâm not going to kill you.â
Confusion, relief have you forgetting propriety. âYouâre not?â
The prince shakes his head. âWhat youâve done is treason, yes, but I find that things are rarely that simple.â
He takes a slow breath. âYouâve lived in the castle since you were a child. You are no fool. You know the expectations and the rules. And the consequences of breaking them. So it begs the question, Miss ___. Why?â
âWhy?â You echo.
âWhy you risk your life multiple times a day, gathering intelligence, obtaining secrets, passing along parcels of information. I imagine itâs not for lack of entertainment. From my understanding, most palace ladies of your age enjoy hobbies such as painting, embroidery, and the occasional dance lesson.â
âIâve never been much of a painter.â
âRegarless,â the prince shakes his head, âyour painting skills do little to change the fact that outside the castle walls, food rations continue to shrink. Failing diplomatic policies are leading to unrest with our neighbors. Disruptions in trade that people rely on for their livelihood.â
It takes a good deal of effort to keep your mouth from dropping open in shock. Never once have you heard even the slightest whisper of a royal caring what happens outside the palaCe walls. âI wasnât aware that the strain had reached all the way to Your Highness.â
âIt hasnât.â He shakes his head. âNot directly. Our tables are full. Our finery well stocked. But a good king looks beyond his castle, does he not?â
Here, you must tread carefully. âI wonât pretend to know the burden of ruling. But goodness is subjective. It seems a king would have many other considerations to make.â
âPerhaps some do,â he agrees. âBut only a fool with a crown considers himself before his people.â
Matching his eye, you say, âThis kingdom will be lucky, then, to have a ruler who holds them in such high esteem.â
âI hope so,â the prince nods. Pausing for a moment, he continues, âMy wedding is to be held at the end of the month. And my coronation shortly thereafter. I know it sounds strange given my position, but there are things, whispers, rumors, that I believe you are far more well versed in than I. I would appreciate any⊠guidance you could provide me. At least until then.â
âGuidance?â You echo.Â
The prince nods. âWhich systems are failing, which people are feeling the strain the most. Which royal decrees have a favorable impact outside the castle grounds and which do not. This sort of thing.â
For a moment, itâs difficult not to doubt your own ears. Itâs ridiculous, all things considered. âAre you sayingâŠ?â
âThat I want your assistance in committing crimes against the crown? Yes, I suppose I am.â Across from you, the prince sighs. âThis kingdom has been allowed to run at the mercy and whim of its rulers for too long. People are suffering. Relations are collapsing. My birth, my reign, theyâre meant to bring peace. Prosperity. Iâve warred and struggled with myself, and Iâve always come to the same conclusion. Can it really be called treason if done for the betterment of the kingdom? Can it really be called allegiance if done solely for a king?â
For a moment, silence stuns you. And thenâ
âI wouldnât dare to speak my thoughts on kings in front of Your Highness.â
âWhy not?â Heâs looking at you now. Really looking. âBecause itâs improprietous? Because itâs treason? I was under the impression that youâre rather well acquainted with both already.â
Your lips remain fully sealed.Â
âVery well,â the prince acquiesces. âI wonât push any further. The man who escorted you, his name is Heeseung.â A glance around the chamber reveals that sometime during your conversation, Heeseung has made himself scarce. Itâs just you and the prince. Glancing over your state of dress, a faint flush rises on his cheeks. âI apologize for his⊠imprudence earlier. He works as a scribe in the royal archives. You can pass information along to him. Or to me, of course, although I may at times be a bit more difficult to find.âÂ
He has it all figured out, your arrangement. But youâre still hung up on one crucial piece of information. One you find thus far to be rather lacking.Â
âHow do I know I can trust you?â
The prince pauses for a moment, considering. Eventually, he says, âI suppose you donât. But isnât trust a bit superfluous? I donât mean to speak too bluntly, but I donât believe youâre operating under any illusions. If I truly wished it, youâd be dead.â
You wonât give in so easily. âI trust that you want me alive for the time being. That is not what I inquire. How do I know that our views are aligned, that any information I may pass along will be used in a way I also see fit? How can trust be⊠superfluous, when itâs what builds empires, what crumbles them?â
For a moment, your prince does nothing but look at you. His expression is guarded as he weighs his words carefully.Â
A moment passes. Another. An all too familiar feeling of nausea begins to roll in your gut.Â
You try your best not to let the sudden urge to be sick affect you, but you canât quite suppress the wince that crosses your features.
 And then, as if heâs whispering it directly into your ear, you hear, âA leap of faith, then. It will have to be. And in time, Iâll hope to earn just a fraction of your trust.â
Itâs the voice. The one that's been haunting your dreams. Your waking visions. The source of your migraines, the interruptions to your intuition.Â
And in front of you, the princeâs lips remain shut.
Still, you ask, âWhat?â
He sighs, and this time with his own mouth, tells you, âI am your prince. Soon to be your king. Fortune may not be a fair thing, but it has decided for the both of us that your trust belongs to me. I hope to use it well.â
You have a million questions. A thousand unfinished thoughts. But no matter what voices speak in your mind, he is right about at least one thing.
He is your prince. He will be your king. He holds your, your sisterâs, and an entire kingdomâs lives in his hands.Â
And this, you realize, is an order.Â
Ignoring the tremble in your legs, you once again stand to full height. And immediately drop into the deepest curtsey you can manage. âVery well, Your Highness.â
âŠ..
Despite it all, life proceeds with an almost uncanny sense of normalcy. You begin your morning the day after meeting with the prince in the same way you always do. With a visit to the castle kitchens.
Jay is expecting you. An apron tied around his waist, and a small plate of fresh fruits he slides across the counter towards you, he speaks in hushed tones while he dices vegetables for tonightâs supper.Â
âPotatoes,â he whispers. To anyone else, it would look like a simple meeting between friends.Â
Your brow furrows. âWhat of them?â
Jay nods to the cutting board currently beneath his hands. âItâs the fourth evening in a row weâre serving them.â
You frown. âIs that strange? Theyâre a hearty vegetable, and they grow in abundance this time of year.â
âRight,â Jay nods. âBut the king grows restless if served the same dish more than once within a fortnight. The last head chef was demoted to kitchen help less than a year ago for a much less egregious repetition.â
âWhat does that mean? Low crop production?â You speculate.Â
âPerhaps,â Jay agrees. âIt could also be trade issues. More valuable crops being used to barter for other necessities.â
Itâs confusing. Just yesterday, the prince told you that the royal kitchens were still well stocked. The royal family was still eating well.Â
âIs this a recent development?â You ask.Â
âFairly.â Without ever pausing his cutting, Jay adds, âThe choice of potatoes is also interesting within itself. Nutritionally, theyâre quite dense. Itâs much easier to create a full, hearty meal, or at least the illusion of one, than it is with other vegetables."
âIâll speak with Sunoo,â you nod. âHe mentioned last time that the plans for new fields are quite conservative this year. I wonder if low overall production, or at least low variety, has anything to do with it.âÂ
Taking a bite of the apple slices he prepared for you, you add, âThank you, Jay. Take care of yourself.â
At that, he does pause. Setting the knife down, he looks up at you for a moment. âYou too, ___. Be careful.â
You smile, easy and bright. âI always am.â
The straight set to Jayâs lips doesnât budge. âI mean it, ___. Things are⊠strange these days. I know how valuable your information is, but you need to look out for yourself too.â
You frown at the sudden urgency in his voice. âI know, Jay. I will. I think people are just on edge with the upcoming wedding and coronation. Transitions in a kingdom are always a bit unnerving. Especially since Minaâs just⊠well, you know.â You shrug. âWeâre certainly not royalty.â
âCould have fooled me.â Jay grins, but the tension in his shoulders doesnât quite disappear fully. âLook at you, sitting like a lady, eating my apples.âÂ
You roll your eyes, taking another bite with an exaggerated crunch.Â
âRight. Well, this lady has a groundskeeper to visit.â
âI wonât keep you, then.â
âThank you, Jay,â you tell him, standing up from the counter. âFor the apples and the⊠conversation. Iâll see you again soon.â
âIâll look forward to it.â
Making your way back through the corridors, his words play back in your mind. First, you wrestle with the idea of poor crop production. Itâs strange, but you wonât know anything for sure until you have a chance to speak with Sunoo.Â
Tucking that away for later, your mind spins through some of Jayâs other claims.Â
Lady. Despite the childhood youâve spent in the castle, youâve never really considered yourself such. You and Mina were brought here as children, but the distinction was always clear. The separation was always made.Â
The only reason you were behind these walls instead of outside of them was because of a prophecy. One you were far too young to understand.Â
Even if you had been older, itâs not as if you had the chance to hear it from the seerâs mouth yourself. Instead, it had been divulged to you in the one direct conversation youâve ever had with your king.Â
That night, so many years ago the memory is beginning to blur around the edges, the king of your nation told you and your sister in plain words that the two of you were to come to the castle. To live there.Â
That in due time, your sister would marry his son, the prince. Even now, you remember how he spat the words like venom, as if they tasted bitter on his tongue.
The world could never know, he said. Prophecies were a fickle thing, and the less people to know, the better. To the kingdomâs knowledge, you two would be the daughters of his late wifeâs dear friend from a distant kingdom. Children whose parents had been lost to senseless violence.Â
Not royal, not noble, but at least somewhat respectable members of society instead of the daughters of an impoverished blacksmith. A symbol of the kingâs graciousness and goodwill.Â
You would be trained, of course, in the manners of court. How to sit, how to speak, how to walk. The bulk of this particular attention had always gone to Mina, the future bride of his son, but you were not exempt entirely.
Looking down at your hands now, you wonder, not for the first time, where the truth begins and ends. Your hands are well versed in embroidery, in poetry, in penmanship.Â
But theyâre also rough, full of callouses from you illicit nightly errands on horseback.Â
Are you a lady? Youâre not really sure. Itâs never been the identity youâve pondered when others feel far more pressing.Â
Rebel. Traitor. Forgotten sister.
And now, apparently, personal informant for the crown prince. Â
Whichever it is, you still have a job to do. And Sunooâs expecting you.Â
By the time you make it to the eastern crop fields, Sunoo is taking fertilizer inventory. Sunlight shining on his dark hair, he startles a bit when you clear your throat behind him.Â
âOh!â He turns in surprise. âHow many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?â But heâs smiling at you like an old friend.Â
âSorry,â you apologize. âI didnât realize fertilizer could require so much fascination.â
âFascination, no,â Sunoo corrects. âConcentration, yes. You might find this interesting, actually. Weâve been asked to ration it.â
âRation fertilizer?â Your nose scrunches. âIsnât it just made of cow dung?â
Sunooâs lips flatten. âAmong other things, yes. Primarily a nitrogen-rich soil that weâve been trading with our northern neighbors for decades. I guess itâs becoming a bit more difficult to come by these days.â Â
âOr,â you counter, âsomething is disrupting trade.â
âThatâs possible as well,â Sunoo nods.
Pausing for a moment to consider, you press forward, âI actually came here to ask about something. Potatoes. Has there been an increase in potato allocation?â
A mild flicker of shock crosses his features. âYes, actually. Iâd have to check the records to be sure, but some of the other fields, mostly carrots, beets, and radish, were ordered for replanting with potato crops. How did you know?â
âThe kitchens,â you explain. âTheyâre serving potatoes almost nightly. Do you know why they increased potato crops?â
Sunoo shakes his head. âI havenât heard anything directly, but potatoes have always been fairly abundant. They grow well here. And it is cheaper overall to have less diversity across the fields.âÂ
âSo itâs a way of cutting costs, then.â
Sunoo nods. âProbably.â
âHave any other crops been removed?â
âNothingâs been taken out entirely, but there have been similar orders, particularly in fruits. Theyâve reduced vineyard production, as well as plums, figs, and strawberries. The only place that was expanded was the apple orchard.â
You think of the apples Jay gave you this morning. âAnother less expensive crop.â
Again, Sunoo nods. âIt is.â
You pause for a moment, considering. âThank you, Sunoo.â
âOf course.â He hesitates for a moment. âIs there⊠I know there have been rumors. Increasing unrest. More disrupted trade routes. Is it true?â
âI donât know,â you tell him truthfully. âBut I think it very well could be. You know as well as I do that the people outside these walls are no stranger to struggle. But the king has always gouged himself on grapes and wine and exotic vegetables. For even the royal kitchens to Jace such limits⊠Something else must be happening.â
Sunoo pauses for a moment, thinking. âI hope what they say is true, about the prince.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âItâs just speculation.â Sunoo shrugs. âLikely wishful thinking, but people are ready for change. The fact that the prince selected a bride without a crownââ He pauses, suddenly remembering your relation. âI mean no offense, of course.â
âNone taken,â you shake your head. âItâs the truth.â And only a fraction of it.Â
âWell, people hope that itâs a sign. That their new king values power and status less than his father. That heâll consider the needs of his kingdom and not just live out a reign in search of self-serving pleasures.â
You canât help it, the way your mind immediately goes to the prince.Â
âBut only a fool with a crown considers himself before his people.â
âItâs unfounded, I know,â Sunoo adds when you remain silent. âNothing but a foolâs hope.â
âPerhaps,â you nod. âBut perhaps not.â Turning to him, thereâs a genuine earnestness in your gaze when you say, âPerhaps our prince will surprise us yet.â
Despite yourself, you hope itâs true too.
Youâve nearly made it back to your bedroom when the second summons in the span of days comes.Â
This one, at least, is a bit less terrifying. Although it does inspire a similar sense of dread.Â
The ladiesâ maid waiting outside your door holds only a letter in her hands. One she passes to you with a bow and a customary greeting before hurrying back down the hall.Â
Unlocking your bedroom door, you close it tightly shut behind you before sitting at the foot of your bed. Then, you slide your finger under the seal of the envelope, feeling nothing but slight resistance as it opens in your hands.Â
Miss ____, the letter reads.Â
Your presence is requested at the eighteenth hour of the same day this message is delivered. Please arrive promptly to the royal tailorâs fitting rooms at the requested time.Â
Youâre not entirely sure what to expect. When Riki has information, he usually goes about summoning you in less formal manners. But itâs difficult to think of any other business you could possibly have with the royal tailor.Â
Well, you suppose, looking at the clock, you only have approximately an hour before your summoning time. Youâll find out soon enough.
âŠ..
Itâs a shame you arenât in need of more gowns. The royal tailor is in possession of one of the loveliest rooms youâve ever seen.Â
Surrounded in golden dipped mirrors, the room reflects shiny things like it loves them. Instead of a traditional ceiling, the space above you is lined with windows. Skylights, theyâre called. Designed to maximize the amount of natural light inside the room. To show how fabrics will looks and dresses will move beneath the sun.
In the early hours of the evening, candlelight picks up the slack for dying rays of sunlight. Still, the room is beautiful. Sparkling in a way thatâs almost alive.Â
In the center of the room stands the royal tailor. Hands always full of fabric and pincushions and a measuring tape, he places another pin in Minaâs bodice.
Mina. Your sister. Despite the fact that the two of you technically share a home, this is the first time youâve seen her in nearly a week.Â
A year your elder, age has been nothing but kind to her. She may not be royal yet, but sheâs been groomed for queendom since she was a toddler.
Her skin glows with a certain vitality, hair shines from the efforts of custom hairbrushes and rare, expensive serums.
You see some of your own features reflected on her impossibly beautiful face, and you canât quite explain in words the way it makes you feel like hiding.Â
Beauty has never been at the top of your list of concerns, but it would be a lie to say you didnât care at all. To say that the sight of your older sister positively glowing at her wedding dress fitting doesnât make you simmer with something akin to jealousy.Â
Even if Minaâs beauty werenât so certain, the gown she wears would certainly pick up the slack. Much like the room around it, itâs less white than it is iridescent. It glows and glimmers and glides across each plane of your sisterâs body like a loverâs caress.Â
Sheâs practically dipped in starlight. Ethereal, stunning, painfully beautiful.Â
She must know it too.
Still, thereâs a hint of uncertainty in her voice when she catches your gaze in the mirror. âWhat do you think?â
âItâs beautiful, Mina,â you tell her truthfully. âYouâre glowing, truly.â
Still, something in her wavers. âIs it fit for a queen?âÂ
âHow could it not be, when itâs fit for you? And you are to be queen.â In this moment, you almost wish you knew her better. Itâs a strange thought, that her ladiesâ maid could probably provide her more comfort than you. Abate her woes with a more expert hand.Â
âI suppose so. Have you thought more, about what you might wear to the wedding?â
You scoff. âNo one cares what I wear.â
âOf course they do,â Mina counters. âYoure the sister of the queen. It would be foolish to think no eyes will be on you.â
âWhatever you think will suit me, then.â
Mina sighs, shaking her head slightly. âYouâre hopeless. Iâm to try on my coronation gown as well. Come, stand with the tailor and decide on a fabric while I change.â
âForgive me,â the tailor speaks, âbut Iâm afraid I must accompany you, my lady. I would like to place a few more pins.â
âVery well,â Mina nods. âThen your assistant can accompany my sister.â
âIndeed,â the tailor agrees. âRiki,â he calls, âwould you please assist Miss ___ in finding a suitable fabric?â
Stepping to the center, Riki bows in agreement. âOf course, sir.â
Your sister takes careful, measured steps on the arm of the tailor, and you watch as they exit to the adjoining room, door clicking shut behind them.
âLet me guess,â you mumble wryly, âlemon yellow would be just perfect for my features.âÂ
Riki just laughs. âI was thinking vomit green might suit you more.â
âOf course you were.â You roll your eyes.Â
âStand up,â he instructs, tone still light. âCome stand here.â
Your feet drag, but you follow his instructions. Stood in the center of the room, you canât help but find the mirrors rather unforgiving. You understand Jaeyunâs concern from a few nights ago. You really do look like you havenât slept in ages.Â
Even if you were well rested, Mina is a difficult act to follow. Your clothes are plain. Utilitarian. Clean and well-made, yes, but nondescript all the same. Eyes trailing upwards, you canât help but think the same of your face.Â
Everything is duller in comparison. Your hair doesnât shine the way hers does. Your skin doesnât glow with radiance. Thereâs nothing special or royal or extraordinary in your reflection. Youâre just⊠you.Â
Still, Riki treats you like a high paying client.Â
When he returns to your side, he holds two fabrics. One a rich burgundy and the other a deep violet.Â
âWhat do you think of these?â he asks. In the mirror he holds them up to your chest, eyes narrowing as he tests them against your reflection.Â
âTheyâre pretty,â you nod, suddenly finding it hard to maintain eye contact with your reflection. âEitherâs fine.â
Riki drops the fabrics back to his side, exasperation crossing his features. âThat is not the reaction I want from someone choosing a gown.â
âHow can I?â you ask. Riki turns from you, takes a few steps back towards the dresser. He sets his original choices to the side and begins searching for another fabric. âYou of all people know I have other things on my mind.â
âI suppose youâre right,â he says, back still turned.Â
âSpeaking of which,â you glance over your shoulder, ensuring the door to the adjoining room is still firmly shut. âAnything new to report these days? Any more tidbits from the palace ladies?â
After all, no one has a better penchant for gossip than them. Itâs why youâve learned some of your most valuable secrets from Riki. Itâs amazing what people will divulge in the presence of someone they deem lesser than themselves.Â
âNothing much.â He shakes his head. âMore of the same, mostly. Complaints about not being able to purchase their favorite tea leaves or jewelry or rouge anymore. A lordâs daughter did request a pair of leather shoes that we had to deny. Our stock has been low for months. Reserved for the royal family only.â
âLow leather supply?â you echo.Â
âYeah,â Riki confirms, still rifling through drawers. âItâs unusual, but not uncommon. Supplies ebb and flow. Some things are hard to come by for a while and then suddenly, theyâre available in abundance again. Iâm not sure if itâs anything worth noting.â
âRight,â you nod, but you tuck away the information regardless.Â
After another moment of searching, Riki stands back up to full height. Turning to face you, he asks, âWhat about this?â
Your lips press together. âGold?â you inquire flatly.
âSomething shiny for the vision of radiance herself.â
You roll your eyes. âDonât mock me.â
âIâm not.â He shakes his head. âI really think this would suit you.â Stepping back to your side, he holds the shimmering fabric against your reflection in the mirror.Â
You hate to admit it, but he might be right. Immediately, your features look softer. Something about the shimmer brings out your eyes, makes the curve of your lips appear almost more feminine.Â
âSee,â he urges. âIt looks nice.â
âIsnât gold a bit much for a wedding guest?â
âYouâre more than a guest. You may not be queen, but this wedding will make you royal, too, you know. Even if itâs by relation. Eyes are going to be on you. You may as well look the part.â
A moment passes. Another.Â
And then, you nod, almost imperceptible. You watch in the mirror as your chin moves. Quietly, you acquiesce, âOkay.â
âGood, then,â he nods. âItâs decided. Now, for silhouetteââ
âIâll leave that to you,â you interrupt. âReally, Riki,â you add when he gives you a look, âIâm sure you know much more about silhouette than I do. Besides, I trust you.â
âOkay,â he agrees, âIâll send you a summons when itâs time for fitting.âÂ
âIâll await it eagerly,â you tell him, trying not to let yourself sound too sarcastic. Glancing again towards the door, you ask, âDo you think I can sneak out before Mina starts her coronation gown fitting?â
Riki smiles, but shakes his head slightly. âProbably not. She values your opinion, you know. Besides, youâre not the only one who will be giving input.â
âWhat?â you ask. âWho elseâ?â
A knock sounds sharply against the main door, interrupting your question.Â
With an exaggerated sense of urgency, the adjoining room opens, the tailor practically running to the source of the knock. In his wake, your sister trails. This time, the gown she wears is far less ornate.Â
Itâs a beautiful shade of violet, not dissimilar from the first fabric sample Riki showed you earlier. Fit for royalty. Perfect for a new bride to celebrate the ascension of her husband to the throne.Â
To your left, the tailor falls into a deep bow as Riki slowly pulls the door open.Â
And in walks the crown prince of the kingdom.Â
Itâs hardly been a day since you saw him, but still, the sight makes you draw in a sharp breath.Â
It feels different. He feels more real, more solid somehow here, above the ground than he did in the chamber in the underbelly of the castle.Â
At your side, your sister drops into a curtsey.Â
Across the room, the princeâs eyes land on you. He holds eye contact, and you forget yourself for a moment longer.Â
The sound of rustling fabric breaks your trance. Remembering yourself, you fall into a curtsey identical to Minaâs.Â
âYour Highness,â you whisper beneath your breath, too low for him to possibly hear.Â
âPlease,â he addresses the room. âStand.â
âThank you,â your sister says, voice breathier than youâve ever heard it, âfor joining us, Your Highness.â
âOf course,â he responds. The edge from his voice, the tremor of desperation, is nowhere to be found. Heâs every bit the measured prince when he adds, âIt is tradition for an incumbent king to approve the coronation gown of his bride.â
Your eyes are still trained on the floor. You can feel his flickering over your features.Â
âThis is what weâve decided on, my prince.â Your sister speaks with an even tone. âA violet color to represent the transition to the highest form of royalty. With flowers, lillies, embroidered into the sleeves to represent luck and prosperity for our kingdom.â
âIt suits the occasion,â he nods. âPerhaps I too could have lilies embroidered on my sleeve.â
Orchids, you think, still not daring to look up fully. Your sister is a well-trained royal, but you were always a bit better at your studies. Particularly with details requiring memorization.Â
Botany was a favorite subject of yours, reinforced by the time you still spend in the gardens. Even now, you remember the text as if it were laid in front of you.Â
Lilies for harmony and fortune, peonies for wealth and honor, lotus for inner peace and spiritual growth.Â
And orchids. For luck and prosperity.Â
You dare not speak to correct her. It is hardly your place. And, you suppose, in the end, it will make little difference. Harmony and fortune are fitting wishes for his reign as well.Â
âOf course,â the tailor agrees. âIt would be an honor to add a lovely lily motif to your slââ
âOr perhaps,â The prince interrupts. âWe could change the flowers to orchids.â
At that, your gaze does snap up. And it locks right onto his.Â
âForgive me,â the prince continues. âBotany was never my strongest subject, but I believe itâs orchids, not lilies that have historically symbolized luck and prosperity.âÂ
Itâs a terrible offence of propriety, the way you stare at the crown prince as if heâs grown a second head.Â
But to hell with propriety. If you didnât know better, you would think that the prince just read your mind.Â
âI apologize,â he says. âI know you must have already dedicated much time and effort to embroidering such lovely lilies, but orchids were practically shouting at me.â
âPlease!â the tailor practically exclaims. âIt would be an honor to do the embroidery a thousand times over if Your Highness so wished it. And what a great mind you have. I should be embarrassed to have made such an egregious error, but I am rather so very impressed with your knowledge of flowers.â
âThank you,â he inclines his head. âFor your gracious understanding. With the changes, I approve this coronation gown.â
Thereâs a moment of suspended silence. The prince's mouth closes. Opens again. Â
Your head is still spinning, racing a million miles a minute. It could just be a coincidence, but you have that feeling again. Deep in your gut. Something that burns like nausea but begs you to lean in. To embrace the discomfort and discover what lies beneath.Â
Then the prince looks at you and asks, âWhat will you be wearing?â
You must have misheard him. He must be addressing someone else. He must.
âMe, Your Highness?â
But the prince only nods.Â
âIâŠâ You trail off, lost for words. âI donât know. It hasnât been discussed yet. Iââ
âSomething light, I think,â he interrupts. Looking directly at you, he tilts his head to the side, considering. âA pale blue, perhaps. Or maybe gold. With orchids too, of course. Iâd like to be consulted before you make a final decision.â
Heat rises in your cheeks, your skin flaming as he assesses you.Â
The tailor coughs. âOh, I⊠of course, Your Highness. You shall be the first to know when weâve decided on a color for your brideâs sisterâs gown.â
âVery well,â he nods. âIâll take my leave, then. Thank you for your timeâ Glancing around the room, his eyes land on you once again. Linger for a moment too long before he breaks contact. First, he addresses your sister. âUntil next time, my lady.â And then he says to you, âGoodbye, Miss ___.â
And then, just as quickly as he came, heâs gone once again.
A rather uncomfortable silence settles around you as the room reels in his absence. The tailor is the one to break it.Â
After another forced cough, he says, âWell, I think we have our work cut out for us, Riki.â
Riki, doesnât even spare the man a glance. Instead, he looks at you, gaze sharp and all too knowing. âIndeed we do.â
âŠ..
The eastern stables are quiet tonight. Just as they always are.Â
No matter how many alarming pieces of information you pick up around the castle and how many ways the prince manages to catch you off guard, at least this is always the same.Â
You havenât had a chance to speak to Sunghoon yet, so youâre praying that Blossom has made a full recovery and will be waiting for you behind the stable doors. If sheâs not, you donât know what youâll do. Jaeyunâs expecting you tonight.Â
But if Blossom is out of commission, you can hardly ride Maeum again. Not after what happened with the prince.
Pushing open the door at the far edge, you avoid the pressure points that make the hinges whine. The last thing you need is a startled horse. Especially one that whinnies.Â
Pulling the door closed behind you, the light is too dim to make out much of anything. Counting down to Blossomâs usual stall, you nearly give a shout of joy when you find it occupied.Â
âGood girl,â you whisper, pulling a carrot from your bag. âGood job, Blossom. You made a full recovery, didnât you.âÂ
But as you reach up to stroke her mane, you realize that something is amiss. Youâre at Blossomâs stall, yes, but the horse in front of you is not Blossom. The light is too dim to make out much of anything, but you can tell through touch alone that this horse is taller. By at least several inches.Â
Squinting, you try to make out any details. You can tell that the horseâs coat is dark, but thatâs about it. Reaching into your bag, you pull out your lantern. Striking a flint, youâre careful to avoid any wood and hay as you light the candle inside.Â
Holding it up, you assess the horse in front of you.Â
Lips pulling downward, you frown. âYouâre not Blossom.â
âNo, but she might suit you even better.â
In your surprise, you nearly drop your lantern. A certain disaster in a stable full of hay.
Spinning on your heel, heart hammering against your ribcage, you whip your head around to find none other than the prince of the kingdom. Leaned against the wall of the stable like it was made to do so. Like thereâs nothing strange about him being here well past midnight.Â
âWhat,â you hiss, still finding yourself short of breath after the fright he gave you, âare you doing?â
Itâs no way to address a prince, but in the cover of midnight, he hardly looks the part. Wearing black head to toe, gone is the regalia, the finery that marks his position.Â
His head is bare. Empty of the crown youâve come to associate so closely with him. It makes him look strange. Younger, maybe.Â
And you never realized just how long his hair was.Â
In the glow of lanternlight, he doesnât look like a prince. Just a boy. A young man. One you canât seem to take your eyes off of.Â
âI could ask you the same,â he counters.Â
âIâŠâ you trail off, remembering yourself. Your status. Dropping into a curtsey, you say, âForgive me, Your Highness. I did not realize it was you. You startled me.â
âPlease, ___.â Your name sounds strange in his mouth, without the âMiss.â More intimate somehow. âStand up. You can forget your propriety now. Just Jungwon will suffice.â
Jungwon. Jungwon.Â
Distantly, youâre aware that itâs his name. But itâs not as if youâve ever used it before. Even in your mind, the most private of your thoughts, heâs always been the prince or Your Highness. Nothing more, nothing less.Â
âIs it really so strange?â he asks. âTo call me by my name?â
Your eyes fly to his. âDonât do that.â
âDo what?â
âSpeak to me as if you can hear whatâs in my head.â
For a moment, he does nothing more than look at you. His expression betrays nothing.Â
After another beat of silence, he finally says, âClose your eyes.â
âWhat?â you balk.
âPlease,â he says. âIf I need to command it, I will. But Iâd rather you just trust me.â His eyes are imploring, begging for a bit of faith. Again, he asks, âClose your eyes, ____. Please.â
You stare at him a moment longer. What youâre searching for, you arenât entirely sure. And then, despite your better judgement begging you not to, you draw your eyelids closed.Â
Losing what little light your lantern provides, the world around you goes dark. Hands clenched into fists, you can only hope your small shreds of trust havenât been misplaced.Â
A beat passes. Another. Nothing happens. The night stands still.Â
And then, as if whispered against the shell of your ear, you hear it. Clear as day.Â
Hello.
Itâs his voice. You're sure of it. Eyes flying open, you expect to find him standing so close you could touch him. But the prince is still motionless, still leaning against the wall of the stable. A good four paces from you.Â
âYou heard it,â he asks, lips drawing thin as if heâs just confirmed a hypothesis. âDidnât you?â
âI⊠I heard you, but it wasnât real. It was likeââ
âLike it was coming from inside your own mind,â he finishes.Â
You stare at him, lips parted.Â
He laughs humorlessly. âYeah. For months, Iâve been hearing this⊠this voice in my mind. It wasnât mine, but sometimes it felt like it was. It was impossible to tell where my thoughts ended and this voice began. I thought I was losing my sanity. The stress of the upcoming coronation was making me insane.â
He looks up at you, eyes assessing. âBut then, that day in my chamber beneath the castle. You spoke to me, and it was familiar. Too familiar. And yesterday. In the tailorâs room. It was you, was it not? With the orchids.â
You nearly gasp. You hadnât been imagining things. He had read your mind. âI thought of them, yes, but I certainly did not intend to⊠speak to you.â
âI didnât either.â He shakes his head. âJust now was the first time I attempted to send my voice to you. But it wasnât the first time you heard it, was it?â
âI cannot be sureââ
He wonât let up so easily. âIf you had to guess, then.â
Youâre quiet for a moment, weighing your answer. And then you tell him truthfully, âNo. No, I suppose it was not.â
The prince looks at you, considering. âThereâs something strange between us. A connection.â
With the way your cheeks flame, you're suddenly grateful for the cover of darkness.Â
âI cannot pretend to understand it, Your Highness, butââ
âFor heavenâs sake,â he exasperates, pushing himself off the stable wall, âwe hear one another in our heads. Please, call me Jungwon.â
âI⊠I couldnât possiblyââ
âFine,â he says. âDonât say it then. At least not out loud. Speak it to me. In my mind.â
âI donât know how,â you protest.Â
âTry.â
You stare at him.
The prince doesnât give in. Instead, he suggests, âIt may help to close your eyes.â
For a moment, you just look at him, everything in you screaming in protest. Then, on a long exhale, you close your eyes.Â
First, you let the thought pass through your mind.Â
Jungwon.Â
Even in the sanctity of your mind, it sounds like treason.
Next, you try again. This time, you imagine shouting it across an open field, sending it as far as the wind will carry it.
Jungwon.Â
Itâs to no avail. You open your eyes. Across from you, the prince just shakes his head.Â
Itâs not about volume, then.Â
This time, you close your eyes, let your eyelids relax as if you were sleeping. You donât shout. You donât whisper. Instead, you search.Â
For something, anything that might lead you to him.Â
The inside of your mind feels like a chamber. Vast, expansive, but entirely self-contained.Â
You think about what it sounds like, what it feels like, when he speaks in your mind. The way it always seems as if heâs whispering against your left ear.Â
Opening your eyes slowly, you ask aloud, âWhen you hear my voice, where does it come from?â
He doesnât need to ask for clarification. The prince knows what you mean.Â
Wordlessly, he draws his hand upward, taps the space just beside his right temple, next to his eyebrow. âHere.â
Nodding, you close your eyes again. This time, you imagine closing the space between you. Your hands tremble, heart racing as you picture this phantom of yourself leaning in, far closer to the prince than you could ever dream of being.Â
You imagine leaning forward, lips tracing that spot against his temple, feeling a stray strand of hair rustle beneath your lips.Â
Itâs like using an untrained muscle, stretching a long forgotten ligament. It strains a little. Burns with effort. But itâs there, and itâs real. At least in the expanse of your mind.Â
Jungwon, you whisper. But your lips never move.Â
You donât even need to open your eyes. You know he heard it.Â
When you do finally look at him again, heâs already staring at you, lips parted. And those eyes. Those damn unnerving eyes that seem to see right through you.Â
Now, heâs looking at you in awe. As if youâve just performed a miracle for him.Â
âDo it again,â he whispers.
âJungwonâŠâ
âMy name,â he nods. âGood. Was that so difficult?â
The look you send him is withering. âI hate to part ways early, but I do have a rather important errand to run.â
âMore important than the duty you discussed with me?â He arches an eyebrow. âDo you have anything to report yet?â
You shake your head, trying to be firm while remaining subordinate. âIâd be happy to have this discussion at a later time, but Iâm afraid Iâm occupied at the moment.â
He wonât let you go so easily. âWith what? Where exactly do you sneak off to in the night? And donât tell me itâs for fresh air.â
âNo,â you pause for a moment, deciding how much of the truth you should give him. âI have a meeting.â
âA meeting?â He echoes.
âYes.â You nod. âA rather important one. Hopefully, Iâll have more information to share with you when I return, so if youâll excuse meââ
His gaze never strays from your face. âWho are you meeting?â
You frown, suddenly defensive. âI donât see how that's any of your concern.â
The prince disagrees. âItâs entirely my concern. You're an informant for me now. Highly valuable. If anything were to happen to you, I could lose a very important source of information.â
âI havenât even told you anything,â you protest.Â
âSo you understand my problem.â
It takes a great deal of effort not to roll your eyes. âIâm meeting a friend.â
Heâs unrelenting. âWho?â
âI hardly see how that information is relevant to you.â
âI should like to know where to look, who to question, if anything were to happen to you. After all, you are planning to leave the safety of the castle.â
Itâs infuriating, the way he has an excuse prepared for every rebuttal you make. âNothingâs going to happen to me. This is a routine meeting. One that I am now going to be late for.â
âStill, I insist.â An edge of command, of order slips into his tone. One youâd have to be a fool to miss.Â
The information youâve divulged thus far already feels like too much. Youâre not sure how much more you can bear to give. âHeâs part of the resistance,â you sigh. âHeâs like me. Someone who talks to people and monitors tensions and skirmishes and other strange patterns.â
âHe?â If you didnât know better, youâd think there was an echo in the stable.
âYes, he.â
âWhatâs his name?â
Jungwonâs been begging for your trust, but this is pushing too far. Jaeyun is one of the only people in the world you consider a true friend. Someone youâd protect with your life. It doesnât matter if Jungwonâs intentions are entirely aligned with your own. Youâre not giving up his name.Â
âIâm not telling you that.â
âVery well,â he agrees easily. Too easily. âThen Iâm coming with you.â
Your lips draw into a thin line. âYou most certainly are not.â
For a moment, Jungwon just looks at you.Â
âFine,â you throw your hands in exasperation, still mindful of the lantern in your grasp. âFine. His name is Sunghoon. Will that information suffice?â
His voice is low now, dangerous. âHow lowly you must think of me, to assume that I donât even know the name of the castleâs own stable hand.â
A burst of surprise flickers through you. In all honesty, you didnât think he would know Sunghoonâs name.Â
Then, the prince gives you an ultimatum. âEither I come with you, or neither of us goes. And I believe you did say something about already being late.â
You sigh. There is no way you can bring the kingdomâs prince to an illicit, treasonous meeting. Jaeyun will just have to forgive you the next time you manage to sneak out.Â
âFine then,â you drop your shoulders. âWeâll stay. The horse I usually ride seems to be missing, anyway.â
âYou didnât hear me earlier?â Jungwon raises an eyebrow. âHer name is Nabi. Sheâs new to the castle. A young mare with a sweet temperament. She rarely whinnies even when startled. And sheâs quite tall. Long legs. She has one of the fastest gallops Iâve ever seen.â
âA horse that impressive is surely valuable.â You shake your head. âPeople will notice if sheâs ever missing. More tired than she should be.â
Jungwon just looks at you for a moment, and you feel youâve missed something entirely.Â
âSheâs yours, ___, if youâll have her. I know Blossomâs a good mare, but her hoof is taking longer to heal than the veterinarian thought. You wonât be able to ride her for a while. Plus, I happen to know her owner.â Jungwon winces. âNot a very pleasant man, despite his excellent taste in horses. Not someone you wouldnât want to cross.â
But youâre still stuck on his earlier words. âWhat do you mean, sheâs mine?â
âI mean just that. She wonât be ridden by anyone else here. Sunghoon will take her out for general exercise and care, but sheâll be able to rest during the day when she needs. You wonât need to worry about overworking her at night.â
âIâŠâ you trail off, lost for words. âYou did this?â
Jungwonâs expression betrays nothing. âAn informant needs to be quick, do they not?â
Turning your back to him, you approach the horse, your horse again.Â
âWhat did you say her name was?â
âNabi,â Jungwon repeats. âIt meansââ
âButterfly,â you finish for him. âYes, I know.â Taking a deep breath, you turn back to face him, âListen, Jungwon.â His name still feels strange against your tongue, but that sensation of wrongness is fading quickly. âI understand that you want to rule differently than your father.â Youâre not sure when you lost your inhibitions, but something about the low light of the stable is making you feel bold. âI admire it, actually. But my friend, this network of resistance, theyâre important to me. I know that youâre used to giving orders, but please just⊠please listen to me while weâre out there. I donât think anything out of the ordinary will happen, but if it does, I need to know that I can trust you.â
For a moment, Jungwon says nothing. And then you hear it, quiet and familiar as a loverâs caress in your ear.Â
I promise.Â
The shudder that runs the length of your spine has nothing to do with the nighttime chill.Â
And then, a handful of minutes later, dressed in black and trading in secrets like a pair of bandits, the two of you set out from the stables into the inky darkness of the night.
