synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.
pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you
genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff
word count. 1.2k
rating. M
warnings. âïžso far yn is only angsty about changing her fateâïž
a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly âĄ
chapters. 1 à 2 Ă 3
You had been waiting for this little escapade since youâd heard your father announce your marriage to the King of Ilya earlier that day.
The world came tumbling beneath your feet as soon as you heard it. No matter how much you protested your father, the King, was irresolvable. You were not shielded behind your title like your brothers⊠Unlike the youngest heir of Keirn who wanted nothing to do with the crown besides partying and living it up to his rake title, you would give a finger to rise to the throne. And yet, the oldest of you, your brother Seokjin, who would eventually sit atop of it wanted nothing to do with it as well.
You did not doubt that if you had been announced as a boy as soon as youâd been born your father would have done whatever it took to put you on the throne. He had always favored you. And not because you were a girl, but because Seokjin did not possess the natural leadership you demanded whenever you entered a room, and because Taehyung did not possess the cold heart needed to rule a kingdom.
And yet your father did not think twice before offering you as a form of alliance with the powerful kingdom of Ilya.
He did not think of his daughter but of the kingdom. He put the nation of Keirn first, as you still wage a war with Ardenâs great warriors and struggle to advance on territory.
The worst part is as a born ruler you can understand why he made the trade. With Ilyaâs help, the unfortunate middle position on the map of your kingdom becomes nothing but a past worry. The soldiers can concentrate on upholding only one side of the borders.
But as a daughter, as a woman of your own, you canât fathom why your once-loving father would deny you the only thing you ever dreamed of havingâyour freedom.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the stone walls of the tiny cottage belonging to your secret lover. You met him years before this, thanks to his fatherâs high-rank position in your dadâs order.
Like his deceased father, Yoongi is also a commander; a general. His scars tell tales of many battles, yet his eyes, the soft ones he has only for you, tell you of everything he wishes your lives could be instead of this. Thatâs why in your rampant need to escape your newfound obligations, you found yourself atop your trusted horse, riding toward this. Toward him.
The air inside is thick with the sweet scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the fire. Your breath comes in soft, heated gasps as you press yourself against Yoongi. Your fingers tangling in the dark hair you worship, his hands roaming your back, pulling you closer, as your lips meet in a fervent unyielding kiss.
Breaking the kiss you rest your forehead against his, your eyes brimming with determination. âWe could leave tonight,â you whisper, filled with hope, much different from the condition you arrived at the cottage. You had been a storm of betrayal and raging tears before Yoongi dwindled everything with his caress and soft-spoken words. âWe could escape the castle, make a life for us in the woods⊠Just the two of us. No one would find us past the clearing.â
Yoongiâs eyes search for yours, his expression a mix you know of too well. Longing and apprehension. You could bet your own eyes were telling the same secrets. âY/n, your father would never stop looking for you.â His knuckles caress gently your cheeks. âHe would send all of the fleet to every damn corner of the kingdom, you know that.â
âThey wouldnât find us. Youâre the best at what you do and Iââ
âMy love,â he pins you down with his eyes. Thereâs nothing but sadness in them. âYouâre now to be-â He stiffens, if only ever slightly. âYouâre to be Ilyaâs queen. They wonât ever let you go.â
He wonât fight for this, for you. Why wonât he fight for you?
âBut weâd be free,â you insist, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. âFree to be together, to do whatever we want of our lives.â
Yoongiâs eyes close in a thoughtful wish. Maybe his resolve could wave after all. He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time as if trying to pour all of his emotions into this very moment. âI want that more than anything,â he murmurs against your lips. He sighs and eyes you closely before adding, âWeâll have to be smart about it if weâre even to attempt it.â
You smile against his lips.
You didnât think your heart could possibly be more his, and yetâŠ
A sudden noise from outside breaks your wishful dreams. Your intimate bubble bursts as the unmistakable sound of boots crunching on gravel reaches your ears, followed by the clang of armor.
Yoongi is up in a second, his grip on you tightening as he steps to shield you even if the enemy is still outside the cottage.
âNo,â you whisper, your voice trembling. The only person to have ever known about you and your knight in shining armor was Taehyung. If your fatherâs soldiers were here⊠âThey- They found us.â
Your spirit is crushed.
Not letting you dwell on what could have happened, Yoongi turns to face you, his expression hardened. This wasnât your Yoongi, this was the general demanding your attention. âYou have to go,â he says urgently, his eyes locking into yours with fierce intensity. âIâll find you. I promise Iâll find you no matter what, but you have to escape. Now, Y/n.â
Tears well up in your eyes. You canât leave him, you donât want to. But you learned the same techniques as Yoongi did when little. You know that if you donât split now they will catch you both. And you also know that itâs your freedom put in jeopardy, not his.
Thereâs no time to argue.
Yet you do.
âI canât leave without you-â
His large hands are cupping your cheeks in a second. All of the resolve in the world swirling in his cat-like eyes. âNo one will ever set us apart, My love. Youâre blood of my blood,â
You are caught by surprise as he chants the words. But thereâs no time to spare, and so you finish reciting the vows you know by heart. ââŠAnd bone of my bone.â You answer him gently. âIâll give you my body, that we two might be one.â
âI give you my spirit until our life shall be done.â He finishes with a bittersweet smile.
As you rest your forehead on his cheek, inhaling for one last time everything that he is, he places a cold piece on your palm and a kiss on your temple.
âPlease be safe,â you whisper close to his lips, your voice breaking.
Yoongi gives you one last, searing kiss before pushing you towards the back door. âIâll find you,â he repeats reassuringly.
You can still taste him on your lips as you slip out of the cottage, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprint into the dense forest. Behind you, the sound of soldiers crashing through the door and Yoongiâs defiant shouts fill the air.
You donât dare look back, trusting in his promise as you disappear into the darkness, praying that once the sun rises yet again, you will be not only reunited but in charge of your fates.
In your palm rests the reassurance.
A silver dagger in the form of a wedding ring.
taglist. comment down bellow if you want to be part of it âĄ
would love to know the inspo for the dialogue between yn and yoongi at the end of chapter one. sounds really familiar đ€
hi hon đ I'm happy you noticed! the wedding vows as I call it is taken from the Outlander show, a favorite of mine and also inspiration along with the original The Princess Bride movie for this series.
How many epsoodes are in the prinnes bride jungkook? To be competed?
hi anon đđ»ââïž if I manage to write the chapters long enough to add all the scenes I already have noted down... I'm thinking at the very least three to four chapters more
synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.
synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.
pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you
genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff
word count. 7.1k
rating. M
warnings. âïžsteamy scene, violence, threats, mention of rapeâïž
a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly âĄ
chapters. 1 à 2 Ă 3
Freedom didnât last long.
You managed to hold your own through the night, running and fighting against your dress that stubbornly would entangle in the branches of the tall bushes, draining you throughout. You barely caught on any sleep, trying your best to keep walking and pushing yourself toward your new-found goalâthe borders of Keirnâs citadel.
But once the first rays of light greeted you, and the shadows of the night were long gone, even the woods couldnât protect you from your fatherâs cunning.
The tall walls surrounding the kingdom seemed tranquil on this side of the border; completely unoccupied saved by the chirping birds that flew by. You had been counting on it since you knew this to be one of Keirnâs blind spots.
You approached the wall carefully, your head paranoidly snapping at any sound. It loomed above you, imposing and seemingly insurmountable. Inhaling deeply you reach for the dagger Yoongi had given you, its weight a comforting reminder of his promise. Holding it tightly, you find a small crevice in the wall, just wide enough for your fingers.
With a deep breath, you begin to climb. The rough stone bites into your hands and feet, but you press on, using the dagger to wedge into cracks for leverage. Each movement is deliberate, your muscles burning with effort. The climb feels endless, but the thought of Yoongi and the freedom that awaits you on the other side keeps you going. You think instead this is just the customary climb toward the tall window of the castle you grew up running from in the middle of the night.
Finally, you reach the top, pausing for a moment to catch your breath and scan the horizon. No movement. The kingdom lays quiet beneath you. You allow yourself to close your eyes even if for an instant, breathing the scent of the pine trees your home is known for, and the faint one of lilies. Ardenâs borders are just there, waiting for you.
You open your fingers wide on a lazy morning stretch, and a smile, even if bittersweet, tugs at the corners of your mouth. You did it.
Carefully, you begin your descent on the other side, your grip firm on the dagger.
As your feet touch the ground, you swiftly place the dagger back in the strap around your thigh, relief flooding through you. Even with no belongings besides the dagger, or plans, that is what you feel, relief. You could make a life for yourself in the borders of Arden, you were sure of that.
But the respite is short-lived. Before you can take another step, a group of soldiers emerges from the shadows, their armor glinting menacingly in the early morning light. Leading them is the face of your eldest brother, Seokjin.
You gulp down the tears that threaten to blur your vision. In the space of one single night both of your brothers, the brothers you loved so dearly and thought to have a deep bond with, pierced a sword through your heart.
There is really nothing nor no one that beats the loyalty to your father, the fearsome king of Keirn.
âY/n,â he calls out, his voice carrying a mix of authority and if you didnât know better, sorrow. âDid you really think you could neglect your duties?â
Heart pounding, you take a step back, only to feel the cold steel of a blade pressed against your back. One of the soldiers had moved in behind you with lightning speed.
âSeokjin, please,â you plead, your voice trembling. âI canât go back. I wonât.â
Your brotherâs expression softens for a moment, a flicker of somethingâperhaps regretâcrossing his face. But it is gone as quickly as it came. âThe King has ordered your return. You know I canât disobey him.â
You clench your fists, the dagger in its sheath a cruel reminder of your fleeting freedom. Your fingers tap gently the fabric of your dress as you ponder retrieving it and trying to fence your way through. But who are you kidding? Even if great with a blade, and sure you could turn tables with the odds youâre being dealt with, you could never hurt Seokjin.
You love him too greatly to strip the life out of him. And thatâs what this situation would come to, as you know his soul well enough to ignore how he would only disobey your fatherâs orders if death were to fall upon him. âAnd what about what I want? Heâs selling me like cattle!â
Seokjin sighs, stepping closer. âSometimes, our duty is more important than what we want. Come quietly, Y/n. Donât make this harder than it has to beâŠPlease.â
The soldiers close in, their grip on your arms unyielding. As they lead you away, your mind races, searching for a way out. You glance back at the wall, the symbol of your almost-achieved freedom, and silently vow that this will not be the end. Yoongiâs promise echoes in your mind, giving you a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.
âIâll find you,â you whisper to yourself, the resolve in your voice strengthening with each step you take back toward the castle. âNo matter what.â
The journey back to the castle was a blur of rough handling and harsh words. Seokjin stayed by your side, his presence both a comfort and a constant reminder of your impending fate. The soldiers led you through the familiar corridors, and though your surroundings felt like home, each step deepened your sense of captivity.
Once inside the walls of your childhood home, you were taken to your chambers. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and rose, but it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Servants you barely recognized bustled about, drawing a bath and laying out garments on your bed. The dress chosen for you, which you could pinpoint to be your fatherâs doing, was beautiful, but it felt like a cage, its silk and lace suffocating you.
You bathed quickly, the warm water doing little to wash away your anxiety. Every moment you spent in the tub, your mind raced with plans and desperate schemes to escape. But when you emerged, the sight of guards posted outside your door and under the tall window sill crushed any fleeting hope. It made you question if all these years going on silent escapades was indeed merit of your skills or just a jest your father allowed.
It made you feel like a farce.
The dress fit perfectly, of course, but it wasnât yours. Although its silk was made of the softest blue, a color you were peaceful with, you had never worn it. Ever since you were little, you always dallied through bold and sometimes dark colors that enhanced your features. You werenât made for the delicatessen this soft blue suggested, or better, you werenât made for the role this color, the color of Ilya, demanded of you.
And so its fabric clung to your body, a constant reminder that even your own appearance was no longer under your control.
Servants that were never appointed to you before tightened the corset, fastened the clasps, and stepped back to admire their work. All the while being silent like stones. You felt like a doll, dressed up for display and to be ignored entirely.
Sat in the comber as the youngest of the maids fight your stubborn hair, you notice through the mirror more guards approach the hallways, blocking every possible exit. Your father had spared no effort in ensuring you had no means of escape.
Your thoughts go to Yoongi and his well-being. You donât know what happened to him after fleeting his hut, nor do you find yourself brave enough to ask for information seeing that even your greatest confider has betrayed you so easily. So you hold onto the hope of Yoongi having managed to escape if his face not being amidst the guards is of any indication.
You are snapped out of your thoughts as you are dragged through the halls of the palace by a stern-faced soldier instead. He is also the one informing you that you will be having your lunch inside the carriage that will take you to your doom instead of the dining hall, as you protest in his arms.
The words sting, and you canât suppress a shudder. Not that you would want to see his face at the moment, but your father didnât even allow you to say goodbye to anyone else who mattered to you. Not to Binna, the cook who had raised you like a mother since you were an infant. Her warm smile and gentle presence had been a constant comfort⊠How could you imagine life without her and the sticky buns she made every time you were sad?
The thought of leaving without a farewell is not only a bitter pill to swallow but unfathomable.
As you are dragged your feet start caving a ragged track in the rough path of the entrance, you frantically scan the fleet that will escort you to Ilya. You see Seokjin leading it, sitting proudly atop his white stallion. What you donât see is your own horse, Solas.
âWhereâs he, Seokjin?!â you shout exasperated, the hands of the guards tightening around your arms as you mention diverge the path toward your brother. âWhereâs Solas?â your throat gets hoarse from the sudden strain.
Seokjin doesnât spare you a glance. And as he tries so hard to look forward instead of you, the message is clear and is delivered to you like a punch in the gut.
Solas wonât come.
They are forcing you to abandon everything, even the treasured things that could travel with you.
This is a lesson from your father. A way to say from now on you either abide by the rules or you wonât be allowed to have anything at all.
The thought of Solasâ gentle eyes and the way he nuzzled you for treats plague your mind, an invisible hand squeezing at your heart so hard you think you might stop functioning. And in a way, you do.
âPlease,â you grab one of the maidenâs hands as youâre about to be pushed into the carriage. âTell my brother- Tell Taehyung to take care of my horse. Please!â
Taehyung.
Itâs only then that you realize you arenât seeing your younger brother either. You choke on your words, your heart almost coming to a stop.
The pain of not being able to see his face or feel his embrace one last time is almost unbearable. Who knows when or if you will ever get the chance to do so again?
Taehyung had been more than a brother, in ways that Seokjin hadnât been so; he had been your confidant, your rock, but more than that, the two of you shared a bond that words couldnât fully capture. From a very young age, you had learned to communicate with just a glance, understanding each otherâs thoughts and feelings without a single word. His absence now was a gaping wound in your heart, and you couldnât help but wonder if you would ever experience that kind of connection again.
You steal one last glance at the castle, hoping against hope that Taehyung might be there, watching from the shadows. But there is nothing, just the cold, impassive stone walls and the unwavering gaze of the guards.
You settle into the plush seat of the carriage deflating, the door closing with a finality that echoed in your soul. The carriage lurches forward, and you feel a heavy weight settle in your chest. Would Taehyung not even attend the wedding? Would you ever find someone who understands you as he did, who could communicate with a mere glance like best friends do?
As the castle fades into the distance, your eyes close, your head rocking with the shake of the carriage. Everyone you love, the life you were building for yourself, and everything that you are is being left behind.
This journey may as well try to break you⊠But it wonât.
That is your promise to yourself.
You wonât marry the King of Ilya.
You wonât ever not try to escape this fate.
Even if you have to die trying.
Your breath quickens as you find yourself enveloped in Yoongiâs arms. The both of you lie in a secluded glade, the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting a silvery glow over everything.
His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands roam over your body. His lips trailing hot, and tortuous slow kisses along your neck.
âYoongi,â you call for him like a beacon, your voice trembling with desire. His name is like a prayer on your lips, a plea for more.
He immediately responds with a low, hungry growl, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that leaves you momentarily dizzy. Your bodies press together, and you canât help but claw at his back.
You feel feverish as his hand slides down a sinful path between your breasts, fingers deftly unfastening the laces of your nightgown. You gasp against his mouth as the cool night air brushes against your bare skin, but his warmth quickly replaces it.
His touch is everywhereâtender, demanding, setting you aflame.
You arch into him as he squeezes your inner thigh, your own hands tugging at his hair, exploring the feel of his muscles taut under your touch.
âDonât stop,â you breathe, your eyes half-closing in ecstasy. Yoongiâs lips curve into a Cheshire cat smile as he obliges, his mouth tracing a path down your collarbone, his hands lifting you higher into his embrace.
You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, feeling the heat and hardness of him through the thin barrier of your clothes. Pushing his hips down with your heel you almost unravel at the sound he makes.
Your head falls back, a moan escaping your own lips as he whispers your name, his voice thick with need. You are lost in the sensation, the world around you fading into nothingness as the both of you move together, driven by mad desire.
But then, something shifts.
The cool night air seems to grow colder, the moonlight dimming. Yoongiâs touch begins to fade, his presence becoming insubstantial.
Panic surges through you as you try to hold onto him, but he is slipping away, his form dissolving into mist.
âNo,â you cried out exasperated, your hands grasping at nothingness. The glade around you begins to blur and dissolve, being replaced by the dim, familiar surroundings of the carriage now moving into the night. You are alone inside, sat at an erroneous angle, your body aching with unfulfilled longing.
It was just a dream.
The realization hits you like a splash of cold water, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You adjust yourself as you hear the clip-clop of the horses outside, staring up at the ceiling, your heart pounds in your chest. The vividness of the dream lingers, the sensation of Yoongiâs touch still ghosting over your skin.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the ache of loss settles in. You quickly wipe away the tears, you havenât allowed anyone the satisfaction of seeing you crumble ever since you left Keirn.
Itâs been two days now on the road. Every time you closed your eyes you had seen Yoongiâs eyes staring back at you, felt him, his touch, his kisses.
Every time he is ripped away from you by the cruel reality you swear to yourself this is just a reminder of what you are fighting for.
âNo matter what it takes,â you mumble.
Not a second passes before you hear Seokjinâs voice coming from outside, âY/n? Do you need something?â
During the day and the occasional breaks you take to eat and rest, he has been keeping his distance. Either because thatâs the order he received from your father or because he feels guilty about it all, you donât know. But at night, he always falls back to help guard your carriage, and every time you so much make a movement inside the damned thing he always checks on you.
You sigh, tired of the monumental turn your life made, and consequently your relationship with your elder brother. âNo, Iâm quite satisfied in my confinement, thank you.â
He says nothing else, and just like the previous night, you find solace instead in the soft melodies the hooves of the horses make against the gravel.
Your heart sank as soon as morning came and you saw yourself passing through the gates of Ilyaâs castle. Looking through the small window of the carriage, Ilyaâs kingdom revealed a breathtaking view that under different circumstances you would have been captivated by.
The castleâs towering spires seemed to reach toward the sky, adorned with intricate carvings that told tales of a rich and ancient history. Lush gardens surround the structure, filled with soft-colored flowers and meticulously pruned hedges that showcase the kingdomâs prosperity and attention to detail.
Everything seemed to fall into order, even the crystal-clear streams that flowed through the gardens, their gentle babble almost soothing. Almost.
You step out of the carriage once a sea of castle workers line up to greet you. You canât help but notice every and each of them is impeccably dressed, not a thread out of place or a crooked button in sight. Their eyes to the floor, hands clasped behind their backs, all ready to serve.
Your stomach flips with the sight. Your memories float astray before your eyes. Binna with her apron full of flour, Jina, and Peggy all smiles with shaggy flower crowns on their heads.
Everything feels wrong.
You donât even notice as Seokjin takes your hand and helps you out of the carriage, entwining your arm around his as he walks you to the front doors.
âY/n,â he says as his eyes keep focusing forward, his voice tight with urgency. âThis will be as far as Iâm allowed to go. Iâm expected at the front linesâŠI wonât be able to make it to the wedding.â
Your eyes widen with the news, heart pounding in your chest. âWhat do you mean front lines? We didnât declare war on Arden yet andââ you pause as the puzzle pieces all fall in place. Suddenly the rush of your wedding doesnât feel so strange.
You remember Yoongi commenting on how they werenât gaining territory over Arden at all, on the contrary, they were rioting and pushing the soldiers back. With this marriage, your father gained the men needed to make a difference on the front lines. They would be attacking soon before the surprise effect lost its spark.
âOh,â is all you manage to say.
Seokjin comes to a stop and you follow suit. He turns to face you now and you see how his throat bobs. âIâll do my best out there, so you do your best out here.â he chants something you used to say as kids and you force your jaw shut trying to fight the tears.
Heâs going to the front lines.
Suddenly youâre back at being five, finding his already big for his age shoulders to be the only thing you needed to fight your fear of storms. âWhat if- What if something happens-â
Seokjin doesnât pull you into a tight embrace like he used to, shielding you from the world. Instead, he flicks your nose, out of custom. Something he only does when you accomplish something that makes him proud. The smile on his face is measured and yet so full of meaning.
His eyes say it all.
âYouâve always been braver than you think. Donât stop now,â he adds. âWeâll see each other again.â
You donât have time to react as he turns away, taking long strides toward his horse and away from you.
He is going to the front lines. Your brother is going to war.
Your head starts spiraling again. Itâs been an avalanche of farewells, and suddenly, against better judgment, you donât think you can hold yourself together.
With tears welling up in your eyes, you watch him mount his horse and ride away, followed by his fleet. The sound of hooves echo through the courtyard as a maiden holds you by the arm keeping you from hitting the ground.
Seokjin is headed into the danger of war while you are left to face a different kind of battle.
Each and every attempt of yours to glean information about the King of Ilya, as you hadnât met him yet, was met with tight-lipped silence. No maiden dared spill anything, not even a description of said man.
Their refusal to answer your questions only heightened your apprehension.
You tried to search your mind after your fatherâs comments about the other kingdoms and their rulers but came out short-handed. The only thing you managed to remember him saying about Ilya was that its last king had died in an unfortunate altercation and his son took over.
Although sure his son, the new King, was about your age, your heart was already entitled to another.
You did not want this marriage, the alliance, and the burden it came with. Not only because you didnât even know the King, but mainly because he didnât know you.
If he did, he would spare the trouble, or at the very least understand you are not the type of woman to sit and be ordered around, and therefore no marriage would happen in the first place.
For the entirety of the day, you were shown around the accommodations. You were fed and bathed, and as soon as the latter activity was over, you were locked inside your pompous excuse of a room in nothing but a nightgown and Yoongiâs silver dagger that you managed to hide like a swindler.
The balcony served you with no comfort. As soon as you stepped foot on it you realized it was too high of a fall for you to even attempt climbing off it. And even if you were desperate enough, which you are, there was no wall close enough, no crevice, to hold on to on your way down.
Or a bed sheet, and even a curtain wide enough to help. You had checked.
The wedding was to be held at night, that much you were told.
And was only when the sky started to get painted a darker blue that the maidens walked into your room once more.
You stood before a large mirror, on top of a small platform, as the girls dressed you in layers of delicate fabrics. You were in shades of yellow and hues of gold from head to toe. Even the jewels were composed of yellow sapphires.
You liked what you saw in the reflection. This color made you feel at home, but as you caught your eyes you saw that they were nothing if not urgent and alert. You didnât have time to admire the somewhat modern cut of the dress and how it hugged you in every right way, no. This was the only time you had to think about finding a way to escape. To at least postpone the wedding to get to know the castle better, its exits, its people.
One of the maidens tugs at one strand of your hair, trying to secure the last hairpiece. Your eyes fleet to her figure.
The girl didnât appear much younger than you. Perhaps she was Taehyungâs age, exactly seven months your junior, who knows. She had been quiet just like the others, but her eyes always lingered a bit on yours before aiming for the floor. She didnât ignore you intently like everyone else.
Her fingers tremble slightly as she works, and suddenly you notice the sapphire hairpiece slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.
âForgive me, Princess,â she says, bending down to retrieve the piece. As she does so you notice that she sends an authoritative glance toward the others, and as they exchange glances, they discreetly exit the room.
The inked-haired girl rises to her feet, the sapphire piece in hand, and yours travel instinctively toward your thigh where the dagger is sheathed safely. She accompanies the movement with determined eyes.
âYour Highness, there wonât be a need for that,â she starts and a friendly smile eases her complexions. âI apologize for the startle, but I needed a moment alone with you.â
You eye her with suspicion still, âGo onâŠâ
She takes a deep breath. âWeâre not friends or better acquaintances- You donât even know my name. Yet I canât help but sympathize with what I see in your eyes.â
You cock your head at that comment. You never bothered with peopleâs assumptions regarding you, but it didnât mean you liked it nevertheless. âAnd that would beâŠ?â
The girl seems unfazed by the gesture, and if she fears the disparity in status, she doesnât show. Instead, she continues. âI know what it means to love someone and be forced apart. Or at the very least, know the feeling of being imposed with a life you donât want to yourself. Am I close?â
At the lack of a response on your end, she takes one step closer to you. âI want to help you, your Highness. I can assist you in escaping.â
You swear your heart skips a beat and for a moment you think you are hearing wrong. âWhy would you risk such a thing?â
What if this is just a ploy of yet another cunning King?, you think to yourself. Why would a maiden risk her neck to save mine? She doesnât even know me.
âBecause I have someone I love, too,â she confesses, and something in the way she says it gives you a feeling that she for a fact is speaking the truth. âI canât stand by and watch someone else be denied their happiness. If thereâs a chance to reunite you with the one you love, or what you want, I will do everything in my power to help you.â
You always thought of yourself as having a high judgment of character. Never once have you failed to do so, but things lately have turned into a mess.
âI donât have the means to pay you and if you get caught-â
âWe donât have much time,â the girl interrupts your poor excuses, her voice urgent. âTonight after the final preparations, I will come for you. Be ready.â
You nod at the warning, dismissing second thoughts as a flicker of hope ignits within you.
The maiden carefully secures the sapphire hairpiece in place, and you stand tall once more facing the mirror.
The girl comes to stand by your side and as your eyes lock in the reflection of the both of you she says in a whisper, âYou can call me Hana, your Highness.â
You donât think you had ever been so nervous in your entire life. Not even when you lied through your teeth that time Taehyung vanished for two days and you covered for him with your ruthless father.
It isnât an easy feature to put your life in the hands of someone else, especially not blindly.
Hana had left you with the other maidens, claiming she would come for you, but nothing else was said. You didnât exactly know what would be the plan, you just knew she would come for you.
But as you are escorted to the chapel to bind your life to the King of Ilya in front of his order and his guests, you start doubting if Hana is ever going to show.
You are one step away from the staircase that will lead you to the entrance where the spectacle awaits when said girl carves a path between the guards and maidens to reach you.
âIâm sorry to keep you waiting, your Highness,â she huffs and two guards come to drag her away.
In sudden fear, you shout at them, âLeave her!â and they do as you command.
Hana straightens her simplistic dress before coming closer to stand in front of your figure. âWill these do, your Highness?â she opens her hands in front of you, head down in a theatrical display for the others, as she shows you the most scintillant sapphire earrings. They are composed of two pieces, one polished yellow stone at the top and another one hanging, only secure by a birdâs claw that tightly embraces it.
Itâs beautiful.
Your hand is like a ghost as it touches your ears, unaware they had been bare until now. âYes, these will do.â
Hana presses down a smile at your astonishment for the piece, and if you were in Keirn, where you had power, youâd be pushing her in a playful jest.
But you are not in Keirn, and you recognize this is the moment she will somehow execute the plan. It has to be.
Your eyes are laser-focused on her as she comes even closer, trying to secure one earring on your ear. You can barely understand as she whispers, âOpen your mouth slightly- Not like that. Gentler.â
You do as youâre told, and in a flash, when she swifts her hands to your left ear, something is inside your mouth.
Immediately you close it and your tongue goes out to inspect what appears to be a capsule.
âOnce youâre to say your vows, crack the capsule and fall. I need you to appear faint,â she whispers again, stalling the insertion of the earring on your ear as the soldiers start to get agitated.
You search her eyes for more but she only says, âTrust me. Donât open your eyes until Iâm with you and I tell you so. Just play dead.â
And then she steps away, saying loudly, âAll done, your Highness!â and youâre back moving toward your doom.
You feel the capsule hidden under your tongue as you start walking down the aisle of the cathedral.
Rows of guests turned to gaze upon you, their eyes filled with curiosity and judgment. The whispers and murmurs seemed to close in around you, but you kept your head high, determined to see through with the plan.
Just play dead, you think, easy enough.
Your dress, the exquisite creation of silk, seemed to shimmer in the soft candlelight, each step causing the delicate fabric that only cinched in your bust and waist to ripple like waves. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of incense.
Your attention however floated elsewhere as you finally dared to look ahead, your eyes catching the ones of the man you are being sold to.
Standing at the altar, the King of Ilya awaits you dressed in all white, a vision of purity and grace. As you see his honey gold hair cascading around his equally gold crown, you understand the choice of color for your dress.
His features are delicate, almost ethereal, with a softness that belies the power he holds.
Coming closer, almost reaching him, you notice how his plump lips curve into a beautiful smile, one that takes you by surprise. Somehow youâd imagined it to be faker, or filled with ill intentions, but none of that is present.
You see yourself fleetingly wishing that you could have met him under different circumstances. If you were a friendly visitor to Ilya, or perhaps meeting him as a future ally, one that had ascended to the throne of Keirn instead. You wouldâve wanted to know him better.
You wondered what kind of person he was beneath the crown, what dreams and fears he harbored.
But those thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the reality of your current situation. As you reach the altar, the King kindly extends a hand to you, his smile never faltering. You accept it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and look deeply into his eyes.
You donât know if itâs nervousness about what youâre about to do, but you canât read him.
âMy bride,â he says gently, kissing your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact. If you had more time to ponder, youâd risk saying he was finding amusing the way you were analyzing him.
He guides you to stand face-to-face with him, and from between you, you hear the priest proclaim, âWithout further ado, we are here today to be testimony of the sacred matrimony between Y/n, previous princess of Keirn, and our beloved King Jimin, ruler of Ilya.â
The whole room filled in with, âAll hail King Jimin,â as if it were a prayer.
You take that as your cue to bite the capsule.
The bitter taste of whatever content was inside it makes you pull a face, and as you open your mouth a bit distraught by the liquid now swirling in your tongue, you see droplets of red falling.
King Jimin frowns, scanning your complexion. âMy dear, are you feeling under the weather?â
You donât waste any time before rolling your eyes back and falling heavily onto the ground.
Itâs a hard task not to wince at the blow your head suffers once it meets the cold stone beneath you, but it had to look credible. You do your best to look lifeless as you hear Jimin shouting for assistance, kneeling beside you while holding your hand tightly.
Or when the crowd goes into a frenzy when Jimin does the same path you just minutes ago walked, as he bravely carries your limp body to a private room escorted by his royal cavalry.
You keep playing dead even after he gently places you on top of what appears to be a wooden table. âGet me a healer. Now!â he commands frantic.
Thereâs the clink of steel and then a new pair of footing making noise on the cold stones.
âYour Highness,â itâs Hanaâs voice, you believe.
Jimin who was still holding your hand, seemingly guarding you like a lion, places your limb on top of your own belly, softly caressing your temple before walking away.
âWhereâs the healer?!â he inquires, closer to losing his temper, if he already hadnât done so.
âHeâs on his way, your Highness,â you now know for certain to be Hana as she says meekly. This must be yet another facade of hers as you can gather by now she is nothing but meek. âI came as the priest ordered me to. Your Highnesses are not yet married to the eyes of the lord, you canât be alone in a room.â
She waits patiently as you hear Jimin sigh and grunt, pacing in what you can imagine a furious state, contrasting greatly with the image you built of him earlier on the altar.
âIâll be right outside,â He warns. âDonât you even dare breathe near her. We donât know as of yet what this could be, I donât wantâŠNothing happening to her. Do you hear me?â
âOf course, your Highness. Iâll stand over here.â
You wait until you hear his footsteps growing further down the hall. And then the wooden door slamming.
You wait as Hanaâs feet come closer.
And only when she whispers, âAnd⊠Wake!â on your ear do you rise like a ghost.
As you do so, still a bit overwhelmed to have pulled such a display, youâre met with Hanaâs smile.
She guides you out of the table and gestures for you to keep quiet, indicating for you to follow her.
You do it readily, watching as she opens a secret doorway hidden behind a tapestry, leading into a dark tunnel.
Both inside it, Hana closes the door behind you, cutting your eyesight completely. In instinct your hands shoot before you, feeling under your fingers the musky stone walls.
âListen to me closely,â Hana murmurs, and by the proximity of it, sheâs standing right to your left. You try to look her way. âDown this tunnel, at the very end of it, you will find a horse strapped in a tree. I packed it with food and some things for your journey,â her speech is rushed, you can sense neither of you has much time.
âThis is as far as I can take you,â she says finally.
âThank you, Hana, truly,â You try to put every sense of gratitude in the small words you can offer. âIf we ever cross paths again, I hope we can call each other friends. If not, Iâll carry you with me with the utmost gratitude. I need you to know it.â
You can hear her smiling in the dark, âGo before thereâs nothing else to thank me for, Princess, but alas- If itâs not asking much, could you smash my head in the stone in a friendly way? Itâs no hard feature, you just have to-â
You chuckle, âIâm well acquainted with that, donât worry. Just show me where your head is.â
Hana swiftly takes your hand and guides it toward her skull. She then proceeds to get closer to the wall and you tag along to execute the move.
âTo make you black out orâŠ?â
âChrist, woman!â she hushes, âNo. Just to give me some kind of excuse when the King barges in and finds me alone when I should be looking over the future Queen of Ilya.â
âOh!â you exhale, wincing at what youâre about to do. It wonât be that hard but it will hurt anyways. âI do this with the utmost gratitude.â You feel the need to add.
âJust do itâ!â
You smash her head before she can say anything else, and as you leave her trying to suppress a wave of screams and curses, you do your best to navigate in the dark to the end of the tunnel.
For her.
For Yoongi.
For you.
You found the horse Hana had left you with ease. The white stallion was hard to miss.
Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as you guided the animal toward the dense forest. The night had been pitch black, the canopy of the trees above you blocking out any light from the stars. Navigating your way out of Ilyaâs kingdom and toward the borders of Arden was proving to be an arduous task, made all the more difficult by your bold attire.
Your yellow wedding dress, though beautiful, was a cumbersome hindrance in a survival mode meant not for a party. Its skirts tangled in the underbrush and caught on every low branch. It looked like a beacon.
Keeping the mount atop the white beast had been also a struggle, the dress snagging and pulling at you with every movement. But you kept holding on.
You missed Solas. He was not only swift but pitch black as the night itself. Riding him had always been like a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across open fields and dense woods. This poor animal beneath you, that you didnât even have a name for, by contrast, was a gentle and slower beast. Its white coat was visible even in the peering darkness, its pace frustratingly sedate.
You clung to the reins through the entirety of the night. The adrenaline that had fueled your escape was waning, replaced by exhaustion, a throbbing head, and a lack of sleep.
You hadnât slept properly in days, and the weight of the past travels pressed heavily on your body. The steady, rhythmic plod of the horseâs hooves was almost lulling, and you found yourself fighting to keep your eyes open as you steered the beast Southwest.
You just have to keep going southwest, all the way. Then Arden will be there, your mind swirled with drowsiness.
Something sharp and unyielding wraps around your waist, yanking you violently from the saddle. You have barely time to gasp before youâre thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.
The horse, startled, rears up and bolts, disappearing into the morning light.
You lie on the forest floor, stunned and disoriented. Your vision is a blur of soft shades of orange and blue, indicating you have indeed snoozed somewhere along the night.
You begin to panic as the throbbing pain oozes off and a stranger points an arrow at your head.
âI wonder what kind of insanity consumed Ilya that now they are letting their Queens go on crusades into the woods alone,â his voice is rough, with a deep undertone that makes your nails claw at the earth beneath you. âGet up. Slowly.â
You take the opportunity to do so, with the dress you are wearing, itâs better if you are on your feet than in full display to your enemy.
Rising to your feet, you take that your foolish and careless act of rendering yourself to sleep awarded you with your captivity. Jimin must have ordered his men to search for you as soon as he saw the empty room, and as you slept through the night, you lost terrain on them.
Idiot. Idiot. idiot!, Guilt gnaws at you.
âYou better kill me now,â you say through gritted teeth. âI wonât go back!â
âKill you?â the strange soldier dares to look amused and a chill climbs down your spine. Oh Gods, heâs going to have his fun with me first, you panic. âOh no, my Queen. I have better plans,â
âNo!â you grunt, fumbling with the silk of your dress to get a hold of your dagger.
âI wasnât asking.â he exudes confidence in his statement and you feel your blood boil.
He lowers his bow, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he starts taking slow and assured steps toward you.
This is a play for him. Heâs having fun.
His eyes are a deep sea of black and he pins you with it, his stare so intense itâs like youâre drowning in tar.
But then they turn round and alert, snapping to look in the direction of a rust of leaves.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but you canât take your eyes off him.
In a quick and sudden move, he grabs you by the waist, taking you by surprise at the ease he does it as he rolls the both of you to take refuge at a large trunk of a tree.
Your body is caged between the tree and his own, which feels like warm steel as he presses it further on you. When he covers your mouth with his hand, pinning you with his eyes once more, you notice his cloak.
A brown ragged thing that now serves as a disguise for both of you when he pulls the hood to shield his face. He canât be a soldier, is the first conclusion you make.
Not one from Ilya.
His nose is so close to yours that it tingles.
And from this close, you can see a deep scar on his tanned cheekbone. You gulp.
âDo not make a sound, Honey,â he whispers, his nose brushing your own.
