*Wheein is a thief who tries to steal from princess Solar, but gets her heart stolen instead.  (Wheesun)

 

---

 

It was always at 3, the hottest hour of the day.

 

At 3, the people would be bustling around on the streets, driven out of their clay homes that simply trapped the endless summer heat inside. The older ones would go to the outdoor pubs, drinking as they roared in laughter or gambled away their life savings. The children would meet up with friends and go to abandoned lots to play their games.

 

It was a tradition in the city. The crafty stall owners all knew that 3 in the afternoon was the time to mark up the prices. People would wander around the cobbled streets, drink or snack in hand as they waited for the day to cool. They would meet up with old comrades, shop for a loved one’s gift, or simply lounge around on the stone benches around the city.

 

But sometimes, at 3, the pubs were empty and the old lots bereft of the voices of laughing children. There would only be echoes of footsteps on the stone paths. Even the stalls would be packed up.

 

If one were to enter the city at 3 then, they would find it strange. Strange, because the city would be oddly quiet and empty. But if they were to continue inward towards the center of the city, the faint buzz of voices would slowly turn into the tumultuous roar of an incited crowd.

 

3 was the time for public executions.

 

---

“Will you all quiet down!” The barked order of the guard rang out in the square, barely heard over the crowd’s endless hum of excitement. However, those who did hear at the front turned and murmured the message to those behind them, and gradually silence fell in the square.

 

“Good. Now, let’s see what’s on the schedule today, shall we?” The captain of the guard stepped onto the raised wooden platform as he spoke, clapping the shoulder of the man who had quieted the crowd. Nodding and saluting, the guard left the stage and the captain stood alone, arms outstretched in grandeur as he held the crowd’s attention.

 

Reaching into his satchel, he took out a scroll of parchment, neatly tied down the center with blood red string. He raised his hand high, scroll tightly clutched within his fist, and slowly spun around where he stood. As he turned, whispering began to rise up among the spectators once again as the red string became visible to those on all sides surrounding the stage.

 

Red meant an execution.

 

His mouth curled cruelly upwards at the crowd’s reaction. He lowered his hand, fingers poised over the knot momentarily, before tugging harshly and letting the loose ribbon fall to the floor, unperturbed on this windless day.

 

A hush fell over the onlookers as he began to unroll the notice, one stiff arm each holding the top and bottom ends in front of him.

 

In a loud, booming voice, he began reading.

 

Dear citizens,

 

On this third Saturday of the month of harvest, we, the royal family, must show what we do to traitors who disregard the kindness and generosity we extend to each and everyone one of you.

 

To fool the royal family is a crime equivalent to treachery of our great country. It will not be tolerated.

 

Let her demise be a parting warning to those who dare to harbor thoughts of defying us.

 

The criminal’s name is Jung Wheein. From this forth, any mention of her name will be taboo.

 

The captain rolled the scroll back up and motioned with a jerk of his head for the pair of guards in the back to come up. Other guards swiftly moved to clear a direct path to the stage, arms outstretched to hold back the crowd.

 

In between the two approaching the stage was a scrawny, pale girl clad in a ripped, scruffy tunic. Her disheveled brown hair fell over and covered her face as she half stumbled, half got dragged to the platform. With each lurching step she took, a thin cloud of dust and sand swirled up, pressing into the raw, reddened flesh and untreated cuts on the girl’s legs. One of her thin, sickly arms hung uselessly at her side.

 

As she finally fell into position at the center of the stage, head bowed in fatigue and bare knees no longer feeling pain from the scorching wood, a short, muffled gasp came from the shaded, elevated area overlooking the stage.

 

The captain next turned towards that very location and bowed a full ninety degrees. “Your majesty, the prisoner is here. Would you like to say a few words before we continue with the event?”

 

The purple robed man nodded curtly and stood up. “My dear citizens. Before your eyes lies a traitor of the greatest degree. Do not be fooled by her childlike appearance, for she is a cunning felon that will change face the moment you turn your gaze. My only regret is letting that evil come even remotely close to my daughter and heir, Solar.” He shook his head gravely, arm reaching out briefly tap the seated girl beside him on her back. “Jung Wheein’s corruption runs deep within this city. There is conspiracy within our walls, but we will cut off one of its roots today!”

 

The crowd raised their fists and roared in approval as the king sat back down. However, the girl beside him did not seem to share the spirit of the occasion and sat stone-faced, eyes directed at the unmoving girl kneeling at the center of the stage, almost willing for the girl to look back.

 

“Wheein.” The thin whisper escaped Solar’s lips, unheard to all but her father, who looked her way and clicked his tongue.

 

“Now, now, Solar. You are the princess. This is your country. You cannot let your personal emotions get the better of you, especially towards someone who played with your feelings.” He glanced at Wheein, who was unresponsive to the boos and jeers hurled at her from the outraged crowd. “You couldn’t have forgotten, have you?”

 

“Forget Wheein?” she murmured, eyes slowly closing and shutting out the sight of the tortured figure on the stage, instead recalling the memory of the girl the first time she had met her.

 

Solar dragged her heels along the floor on her way back to her room, exhausted after a session of etiquette training. However, she was excited to have had her horse-riding class canceled. The anticipation of a free afternoon filled with nothing but her and her storybooks quickened her feet and soon she reached the wide, wooden doors of her bedroom. She pushed the doors inward, dismissing the maid that had accompanied her before letting her body fall against the plush fabric of her quilt and head rest against the down pillows.

 

She rolled over, hand reaching out to her nightstand to grab her latest book, but a soft rustling nearby caught her attention. There should have been no one else in the room.

 

Slowly getting to her feet, she grabbed her shortsword, grateful for the lessons in swordsmanship her father had forced on her. Very carefully, she crept forward, nearing the source of the noise she had heard earlier.

 

She in a deep breath and yanked open her wardrobe door. The sword gleamed as she swung it in front of her rapidly, tip held up and forward, ready to take on whatever had intruded into her room.

 

But what she wasn’t expecting was a small, brown haired girl even younger than she was, tumbling out from her huddled position between Solar’s many dresses. She was no palace worker. Solar knew each of the staff by name. Though her wariness did not wane, she felt a pang of pity in her heart for the trembling girl before her. Perhaps there was no need to call in the guards for this.

 

“Identify yourself,” ordered Solar, sword held steady in her hand. “What are you doing here, in my room?”

 

The girl lay prone on her floor, unmoving, unresponsive.

 

“Very well. If you’re going to be like this, I suppose I’ll just turn you in.” Solar straightened up, inhaling as she prepared to shout.

 

“Wait! Wait. Please.” The girl slowly got to a sitting position, hands up in surrender. “I’m Wheein.”

 

“What are you doing here, Wheein? Don’t spout some nonsense about working here. I know everyone who does, and from the look at that patched up shirt and pants of yours, there’s no way you could possibly be an aristocratic visitor either.”

 

Wheein’s jaw froze, and her mind whirled frantically as she sought for another excuse that could warrant her presence.

 

There was none.

 

So Wheein opted for a partial truth. “I-I’m a thief.”

 

“A thief? Another one after our family’s treasures?”

 

“Y-Yes.”

 

“Why is someone so young doing something like that?”

 

“There is nothing else we can do. It’s not like we were given a choice in this city.” This time, another partial truth slipped out of Wheein’s lips as Solar’s naive expression stirred her anger.

 

“Is it just money you need? Will you leave peacefully if I just give you some gold?”

 

The statement agitated Wheein’s confusion once more. “Princess. What are you even saying?”

 

“I’m saying, I’m going to give you some gold. I want you to stop this petty thieving lifestyle and do something productive instead for this city.”

 

“You’re not going to turn me in to the guards?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You’re not going to even ask me more questions?”

 

“Why should I?”

 

“You’re not going to stab me in the back when I turn--”

 

“Wheein.” Solar gave the girl a piercing stare. “Don’t test my patience.”

 

Solar searched her drawers with her hand while keeping an eye on Wheein. Finally, she lifted the hefty bag of coins she had been looking for, nodding approvingly at the weight before handing it out towards Wheein.

 

Wheein didn’t move.

 

“Take it.”

 

“Princess, I--”

 

“I believe in second chances. So this is yours. Now take it.” Solar tossed the bag at Wheein’s legs.

 

After a moment of hesitation, Wheein slowly bent over to pick the bag up, eyes frowning at the unexpected weight. She turned towards Solar but the princess only gestured for her to leave.

 

As Wheein crouched on the ledge of her window, ready to jump, she looked back at the princess who had now resheathed her sword and was waiting to see her go.

 

“Thank you, princess. I...I...only wish the rest of the royal family were like you. I’m sorry.”

 

And before Solar could ask her what she meant, Wheein was gone, the rustling of leaves signaling her departure.

 

A thief. If only Wheein had been just a thief. Solar laughed soullessly as the captain’s voice once more rang across the square.

 

“Kneeling before you is the very traitor that our great king has condemned. Look at her face and engrave it into your minds!”

 

He strode next to Wheein, grabbing her hair and yanking it to force her head up and face visible.

 

“This, this, is the face of treachery, people!” roared the captain, and the crowd, incited by his words flew once more in a heated rage. “How often have you seen this girl walk the streets of our city? How often has she gone into your shops, talked to your families? How does it feel now, to know that the taint of corruption has been this close to you all this time? Does it disgust you?”

 

“YES!” The almighty chorus of agreement from the crowd shook the earth. The captain let go of Wheein, letting her head drop back down.

 

“We must punish her.” He motioned towards another guard, standing ready with several wooden, punctured, boards by her side. “Moonbyul. Restrain the girl.”

 

Nodding emotionlessly, the girl stepped onto the stage with the boards in hand. She knelt before Wheein, who could barely hold herself up.

 

“I’m sorry, Wheein,” Moonbyul whispered, as she took Wheein’s limp hands and locked them tightly within a wooden board that stretched out in front of her.

 

“It...it has to be done.” The dry raspy voice and a humorless chuckle came from beneath the head of hair.

 

Moonbyul silently snapped another wooden board around Wheein’s neck, forcing her head vertical and as immovable as her hands.

 

“Forgive me, Wheein. Even though I’m barely able to restrain myself from ripping these boards off and fleeing here with you, I cannot. You should know why.”

 

“Fight on, Moonbyul.” A brief, sad smile flitted across Wheein’s face as Moonbyul gave her one last, sorrowful glance, before standing up and leaving the stage.

 

Leaving behind Wheein. Her friend. Her comrade.

 

Moonbyul was patrolling the gardens of the palace once again. The head guard had warned them to be extra vigilant lately because the palace staff had mentioned sightings of a strange person wandering the grounds.

 

As Moonbyul strolled among the lush scenery, admiring the wealth the royal family had spent to decorate it, a nearby bush shook unnaturally. Immediately, Moonbyul’s hand went to the hilt of her sword. “Halt! Show yourself!”

 

The bush stopped moving and soon two small boots popped out. The rest of the body slowly followed as the person asked, “Moonbyul? Is that you?”

 

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Moonbyul let go of her sword and hurriedly pulled the girl completely out of the bush.

 

“Wheein, what the hell are you doing here?”

 

Wheein sat on the ground, picking twigs and leaves out of her hair, pouting at a slight cut a thorn had left on her arm. “Thank god it’s you I ran into, Moonbyul.”

 

“Answer my question! And why didn’t you tell me about this?” Moonbyul ranted at the girl who seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that she was trespassing on hostile territory. “Since we failed the first time, I thought we agreed we’d wait a bit longer before attempting again! Why would you even try to break in without my help? What if someone else caught you?”

 

“Relax, Moonbyul.”

 

“How can I relax? If they find you and catch wind of our plot to steal the intel--”

 

“I’m not here for that.”

 

Moonbyul squinted at Wheein in confusion. “Then what are you here for?”

 

After a long pause, Wheein answered, “I’m here to the visit the princess. Again.”

 

“Again?” Moonbyul’s eyes grew wide as realization hit her. “You mean you’re the one the staff says they’ve been seeing lately?”

 

“Damn it, they saw me? I thought I was being sneaky.” Wheein rubbed the back of her neck, frowning, before saying, “I’ll have to be more careful then.”

 

“That still doesn’t explain why--”

 

“Hello?” Solar’s soft voice floated through the gardens. Her padded slippers made little noise, but both Moonbyul’s and Wheein’s trained ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps.

 

“,” hissed Moonbyul. She quickly grabbed Wheein arms and twisted it behind her, forcing the girl to the ground while unsheathing her sword.

 

When Solar’s flowing, satin dress made its appearance around the corner, Moonbyul met Wheein’s gaze, reached a mutual, unstated understanding, and quickly shouted, “What are you doing here, rat?”

 

Solar’s steps quickened at the sound and soon she stood before the stern, angry guard threatening the small girl with a sword.

 

“No! Moonbyul, stop!” Solar’s voice made Moonbyul drop her sword arm in surprise. Her next act of rushing to Wheein’s side and helping the girl up startled her even more.

 

“Milady, this girl is an intruder.”

 

“It’s ok, Moonbyul. I know her. She’s harmless.”

 

“How can you say that? Do you know of her origins? Have you talked to the rest of the guard about her?” Moonbyul shot out question after question, eyeing the suspicious friendliness of the two. “Milady, you must be cautious.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone about this girl, Moonbyul. That’s a direct order from me.” Solar helped brush off the dirt from Wheein’s shirt, eyes softly landing upon the girl’s smile of relief. Her own cheeks began to rise in return, faintly red as her arm wraps around Wheein to help guide her away.

 

“But security…”

 

“Moonbyul, I’ve known you for years, and you’ve known me as well. Trust me on this.”

 

“Judgement can be flawed.”

 

“People are inherently flawed. But they still persist on.” She starts walking a few steps forward, but stops. “And also. If you see her again, could you not tell anyone then, either?”

 

“It sounds like you want me to help her break in.”

 

“Could you? Please, Moonbyul? I never ask for favors.” Solar’s hopeful eyes are something Moonbyul has rarely seen in the young heir-to-be.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Thank you so much!” The joy and affection flashing brilliantly upon the departing princess’s face is also something that has not made an appearance since the death of the princess’s mother.

 

It’s a likable change, in Moonbyul’s opinion.

 

However, what worries her is a similar elation in Wheein’s face. For the two, giggling together as they hurried to a safe and private place, looked far too real like a pair of secret lovers meeting for a tryst.

 

And nothing like the mortal enemies that they ought to have been.

 

“Wheein,” muttered Moonbyul to herself, after both the sight and sound of the two are far gone, “have you forgotten our goal?”

 

When Moonbyul returned to her position, she looked up at the special seating, searching for Solar’s figure. She found Solar, whose eyes were still frozen in Wheein’s direction, face an impenetrable mask.

 

Traitor. You call Wheein a traitor, yet who is the one betraying her heart right now?

 

Moonbyul forced her growing rage back down within her. She cannot falter here, not after all their sacrifice.

 

The king gave the captain a signal to continue the event. Nodding, the captain extended his arm out, and the guardsmen once again pushed against the crowd to clear open a path.

 

“Everyone! It is time! Time for justice, for revenge!” At his words, a hooded figure, dressed in all black despite the scorching heat, slowly stepped forwards towards the stage. A large gray axe adorned the back of the cloak, brilliantly sharpened and polished edge nearly glowing in the midday sun.

 

Upon reaching the stage, the executioner swung the axe easily in one hand and let it drop, quivering as it stood in a neatly carved slice within the wood. The hood fell back onto the executioner’s shoulders.

 

“Ah.” The king leaned forward. “It’s Hwasa. Good choice. Hwasa always does her executions well. It’ll be a good show.”

 

Hwasa, who was the only other person Solar had ever opened up to.

 

 

 

 

The first time Solar met Hwasa was when they were both young, and when Hwasa had just begun studying under the old executioner. Solar had been ecstatic and eager to befriend the girl who was one of the few people around her age in the castle.

 

After trailing her for a few days, she found the mentee at a corner of the servant’s quarters, mindlessly munching on a bland meal. Without hesitating, she dodged the protesting maids and butlers to plop herself across the table.

 

“Hello!”

 

Hwasa’s hand with the bread froze, mid-bite, as she looked up to find the young princess in front of her.

 

“M-Milady.”

 

“You’re Hwasa right? I remember my father saying your name earlier at the meeting.”

 

“Yes, Milady—“

 

“Call me Solar!”

 

“Milady, you know I can’t.”

 

“Aren’t we nearly the same age? Why can’t we be friends?” Solar’s lower lip jutted forward in a pout. “I don’t really have anyone else to talk to in the castle other than my stuffy old maths and latin teachers and that bat crazy lady who makes me embroider for 3 hours in a row. Mother and father are always too busy for me.”

 

“You’re the princess. You have your position, your job. And I have mine.”

 

“I am the princess. Does that mean, if I order you to do something, you would have to listen?”

 

“Milady-“

 

“I order you to call me Solar.”

 

“…”

 

“It’s an order, Hwasa.” Solar crossed her arms and smirked triumphantly at Hwasa who had given up on her

meal.

 

“Milady Solar.”

 

Solar groaned and clapped her palm to her forehead. But at least it was a start. And she could swear there was a faint hint of a smile on Hwasa’s usually stone cold face.

 

“That’s fair enough I guess. For now.”

 

Hwasa spent the rest of the meal listening quietly to Solar’s rants about her lessons, gossip about the knights, and tips on how to bribe the maids. Before long, though, her mentor came and summoned her.

 

Hwasa bowed deeply towards the princess. “Thank you for accompanying me, Milady…Solar.”

 

“I’ll come visit you again! I won’t take no for an answer.” Her pompous demeanor was at odds with her short and young stature, but the sincerity in her face reflected her naive youth.

 

“All right.” With that, Hwasa hurried away.

 

That visit became the first of many. When they met, Solar would pour out her frustrations onto the girl who rarely spoke in return, but would interject with a blunt remark or two when needed. She found, in Hwasa, an honest friend that was a change from the court who coated their words with honey and looked at her with eyes that only paid attention to her pedigree.

 

Hwasa stood, hood thrown back and face unmasked before the kneeling Wheein. For the first time today, Wheein let her gaze wander upwards of her own accord, and she briefly looked towards Solar before focusing on the clothed figure in front her.

 

A mocking, hoarse laugh came out of her dry, chapped lips as she saw the very omen of death standing mere feet from her.

 

“So. So it’s finally come to this.” Wheein hissed through her teeth, head hanging loosely on the restraints as Hwasa continued to gaze down at her, facial expressions indiscernible.

 

“Shut up, scum!” The captain stepped forward, hand swinging to land against Wheein’s face with a resounding slap. “How dare you talk?”

 

“No. Let her. Let’s see what more lies she will try to spit out now that her death is but a few moments away.”

 

The captain stiffly nodded in the direction of the king and stepped back away from Wheein.

 

“Hah.” Wheein slowly turned her head back to face the front, neck muscles aching from the quick jerk the captain’s blow had caused. moved for a bit, and then she spat a mouthful of blood to the side.

 

Raising her head up, as much as the restraints allowed her, she turned her remorseless glare straight at the king. “Aren’t you trying a bit too hard now, your majesty? There’s no need to try so hard to impress.”

 

A humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “Well, since you’re going to let me talk, I might as well. It’s not like you gave me much of that opportunity while I was wasting away waiting in the dungeons.”

 

“You--” The captain stepped forward, hand raised. However, Hwasa, unmoving from her spot, gave him a menacing gaze, and he flinched backwards.

 

“Oh, our mighty king! Mighty indeed. There is no one to deny that, when all the resistance is dead, isn’t it? So mighty with your wallet and sword that villages outside these city walls are simply shambles, pillaged beyond recognition, graveyards filled with ghosts of families that have done nothing.”

 

Wheein in her breath harshly, eyes ablaze with a fire that even held the crowd’s rage at bay. Solar trembled as Wheein’s eyes flickered towards her then away almost immediately. A sense of unease s its way into her gut, and she turned, quizzically towards her father. But the king stared down impassively, almost bored, as if waiting for the common spectacle to be over.

 

“Treachery against the king? Why would I deny that? But betrayal of our country? That, I have never done.”

 

“Don’t try to worm your way out, fool. Your people were responsible for my wife’s death 5 years ago!” interrupted the king as he slammed his fist down on his armrest.

 

“The queen’s death had nothing to do with us. Don’t assume everyone stoops as low as trash like you.”

 

Wheein’s head rocked back once again when the captain’s fist made contact.  

 

“Silence! It seems we have been too lenient. Enough is enough.” Red faced from anger, the captain turned towards the king. “Your majesty, shall we continue on?”

 

“Yes. We’ll show what happens to bastards like you. Your death will be just as quick as on the day we executed my wife’s killers!”

 

Shick. Hwasa’s well maintained scythe flew in a unhesitating arc across the stage. Blood squirted out the twitching, now headless body, splattering unnoticeably onto the black cloth attire that all executioners wore.

 

Without another word, she her heel and strode off the stage with her scythe over her shoulder, undried blood dripping off the sharp tip.

 

“The queen has been avenged!” At the captain’s bellow, the crowd began to stomp and clap.

 

The king, who had chosen to witness the ceremony up close, walked forward towards the headless body. With a vicious kick, he sent the disembodied head, whose face was permanently frozen in despair, towards the crowd. Then, he too strode off the stage, guards hurrying along beside him to accompany him back to the castle.

 

Solar shivered on her horse on their way back, eyes closed but unable to erase the image of how cleanly, how quickly the head had flown off.

 

“You mustn’t be so squeamish, milady” the captain said as he rode past her to catch up with the king.

 

Squeamish? Was it even right to accustom oneself to something such as murder? To be able to not bat an eye as body after body got cut down before you?

 

Solar knew though, that as future queen, she had no choice but to be ready for such things. It didn’t help that her father was quite a war maniac, having constant hushed meetings in the conference room with his general and a grand map of the continent before them.

 

“One day it will all be yours, Solar,” he had said, patting the top of her head the time she had snuck into the room, hoping to play with him. “But father is busy right now.”

 

Always busy. It was always war, or politics, or business. It was never her, save for the few times he’d make small talk over the dinner table.

 

More often than not, Solar would find herself eating alone. Out of habit, she began visiting the servant’s quarters in search for the young executioner -in-training’s company.

 

Even now, Solar, feeling unsettled by the recent execution slowed the pace of her horse as she looked around behind her for the black clothed figure.

 

She found Hwasa, riding behind Moonbyul, seemingly muttering to each other in low voices.

 

Pulling up beside them, she called out, “Hwasa! Moonbyul!”

 

Their conversation cut off as they both nodded formally.

 

“How are you, milady?” Moonbyul gave her a warm smile, though worry creased her forehead. “I hope today’s event didn’t startle you too much?”

 

“I was a little uncomfortable, but I got over it.” Solar looked at the figure behind her. “Hwasa, today was your first solo public execution, wasn’t it? Are you ok?”

 

“I’m fine.” The strained voice clearly indicated otherwise, though her visage revealed nothing as always.

 

“You’ll have to forgive Hwasa, milady. None of us, not even her, expected her mentor to be a traitor to the empire. To even strike down the queen! The shock of the betrayal was greatest to her, who spent so much of her life studying under him.”

 

“I know. You must be devastated, Hwasa.” Solar very much wanted to hug the girl in comfort. “I’m sure my father values your loyalty greatly, since you were even willing to execute your own teacher. And me too, I want to thank you for avenging my mother.”

 

“Your mother was innocent.” Hwasa squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears that threatened to fall. “It always hurts when tragedy hits those that don’t deserve it. I am an orphan, so I know somewhat of your sorrow right now, milady Solar.”

 

“You have no family?”

 

“None. Nearly everyone in my village was wiped out.”

 

“Oh.” Solar gasped and covered . “I’m so sorry to hear that, Hwasa. How did it happen? Was it plague, perhaps?”

 

Hwasa scoffed, “If only it were plague. No, it was war. Actually, it was a one-sided slaughter.”

 

Moonbyul interjected, “Hwasa, the princess doesn’t need to hear of such gloomy things right after an execution.”

 

“No, it’s ok.” Solar waved off Moonbyul’s warning. “I want to hear more.” Not often did Hwasa open to her despite their frequent get-togethers. The execution today had seemingly rattled her emotions’ iron defenses.

 

“Moonbyul’s right, milady. I’d rather not bring the mood down anymore.”

 

“But is there nobody else you know? Someone who might still be alive?” persisted Solar. “I would definitely be willing to help you find your old villagers, Hwasa.”

 

“There is someone. A childhood friend. She…” Hwasa stared down at her bloodstained gloves. “I know she made it out alive that day. But...nevermind.”

 

Solar saw Hwasa look away and knew that the conversation was over. Hwasa never spoke of her hometown again.

 

In the days that followed, no matter how hard Solar tried to find out about Hwasa’s old village and the friend she spoke of, nothing popped up. It was as if the village never existed.

 

Hwasa tugged the axe free from the wood and hoisted it onto her shoulder. She gestured for Moonbyul to come closer and whispered in her ear once she had done so.

 

“Your majesty!” Moonbyul bowed towards the box as he relayed Hwasa’s message. “Would you like to come down and witness the execution up close as you did before? To see the traitor’s head roll yards from where you sit?”

 

“Hmm. Not a bad idea.” The king tapped his chin thoughtfully as he slowly rose from his chair. Ignoring the advice against the proposition from beside him, he made his way down.

 

“Sir. Are you sure of this?” The captain spoke as he and Moonbyul accompanied the king up the stage.

 

“It’ll be fine. I have both you and Moonbyul here. Moonbyul deserves this as well. After all, she was the one to inform us of the traitor’s existence.”

 

Moonbyul bowed. “It was nothing, your majesty. Just doing my job.”

 

“Remind me to get you an award or a promotion later.”

 

“Thank you, your majesty.”

 

Their words ceased the moment they joined Hwasa surrounding the restrained Wheein, and the spectators likewise fell into an eerie silence.

 

“Even I, the king, have come forward to watch you die. Any last words? I’m being very generous today. In fact, consider spilling the names of your accomplices and I’ll make your death even quicker.” He lifted his chin up, haughty smirk disfiguring an otherwise elegant appearance.

 

“I would never betray my comrades. You all have made quite the event of my crime, haven’t you? Do the citizens here even know what I have done?” Wheein raised her voice to make herself be heard. “The king caught me trying to steal war intelligence for our neighboring country, our great rival. Is this betrayal? Not to those of us, who have already been betrayed by a king who once promised to treat us right. By a king who once praised the work we did for him. By a king who turned leaf once the lure of power and wealth made anything else irrelevant. Even the lives of his people. Anything, even life under our enemy, is better than living under the tyranny of a king such as he.”

 

Wheein spat another mouthful of blood at the feet of the king. Hwasa slowly raised her axe.

 

“You remember when I said we would never stoop to levels as low as you? That we were not responsible for the queen’s death? That was the truth. We would never kill someone innocent. In fact, we did not want to kill anyone at all.”

 

Hwasa’s shoulder and arm muscles tensed up as she brought the axe back, coiled in preparation for a full swing.

 

“A friend once told me, it is an immense sorrow when a tragedy hits those who don’t deserve it. We never deserved it. We never asked for you to bring the war to us! We never asked for our parents, our siblings, our cousins to get slaughtered where they stood, harmless words met only with silent swords and arrows.”

 

The rays of the blinding sun reflected off Hwasa’s axe as she finally swung, without hesitation as she always did.

 

“But you deserve it, king.” Wheein cocked her head to the side, watching the gleaming steel blade arc through the air as the crowd began to fidget.

 

Seconds later, thousands of eyes watched a head roll to a stop at the center of the stage.

 

The king’s forever scowling face and narrowed eyes looked out at the crowd upside down, blood spilling from the stump of his neck as his body crumpled feet away.

 

And the crowd became chaotic in an instant as people turned against those they stood next to, whether they were patriots of the country or comrades of the resistance. Blood slowly soaked into the dirt field surrounding the stage.

 

Moonbyul leapt forward blade swinging down at Hwasa after she had made another swing to take down the captain as well. The ringing of the two blades colliding shocked Solar from her dazed, disbelieving self.

 

“Father!” Her soulful cry barely could be heard over the screams of battles happening all below her.

 

Wheein, Hwasa, and Moonbyul turned to look at the princess.

 

Solar had fallen to her knees, mouth open but unable to voice her heartbroken sobs.

 

Moonbyul swung her sword to the side to deflect the attack of one of the rebels who had jumped onto the stage. She gave Hwasa a curt jerk of the head that only Wheein and Hwasa understood before pushing her attacker off the stage and continuing the battle. Someone needed to stay behind undercover in the new regime.

 

Hwasa hurriedly removed Wheein’s restraint and threw her arm over her shoulder to help her up. They raced off the stage, weaving between the crowd as their allies made way.

 

Before they fully disappeared into the mob, Wheein turned her head to meet Solar’s gaze.

 

Solar was staring at her, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes, but other than that, it was expressionless.

 

No, it wasn’t expressionless.

 

I hate you. Wheein could read that well enough.

 

What had she expected? Acknowledgement? Understanding? She had planned Solar’s father’s murder, of all things.

 

Still, she could not help but feel a pang of regret nearly betray her and make her return to Solar’s broken side. To help the now even lonelier girl.

 

“What is this?” Solar took the small object within her hands, turning it over to examine it.

 

Wheein chuckled embarrassedly, hands rising to cup and hide her reddening cheeks. “It’s supposed to be a small puppy. I kind of made it myself, out of twine and cloth. I know it’s kind of ugly, since I haven’t really had much experience making stuff. I actually asked the grandma down the street for help, but all the work is my own. Well, if you don’t like it, you can always just--”

 

“I love it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yep. It reminds me of you a bit. Always jumping around, always so hyper.” Solar clasped her hands tightly around the gift, beaming at Wheein.

 

“I made it since you always say you’re lonely. So when you hold this,” Wheein placed her hands on top of Solar’s, puppy doll warming up from their combined touch, “you can think of me. And remember that I’m here for you.”

 

“Always?”

 

“The puppy may jump around and play during the day, but it always comes back home at night.” Wheein tucked her knees into her chest as she scooted over to sit closer to Solar.

 

“Oh. So you’re saying I’m home now?” Solar teased Wheein, poking her dimple. “When you’re the one sneaking in everyday and trying so hard to avoid the guards?”

 

“Aw damn it. You know I do it for you, Solar. I’m trying to be sincere here.”

 

At Wheein’s pout, Solar fell back onto her bed, laughing and clutching her stomach. One hand still holding onto the puppy, her other hand grabbed the back of Wheein’s shirt to pull her down next to her.

 

“Don’t be mad at me.” Solar buried her face in the back of Wheein’s neck, who was struggling to keep on a look of indifference. “You know I love you, Wheein.”

 

Wheein sighed and rolled over. “How can I ignore you if you say stuff like that?” She quickly dipped her head and pressed her lips against Solar’s. “I love you too.”

 

“Always?”

 

Wheein didn’t answer, instead bringing Solar in for a tighter embrace, sighing in contentment.

 

The puppy doll lay forgotten as it fell from Solar's hand onto the crowd below, disappearing underneath the trampling of maddened feet and taking on the red hue of the blood spraying over the streets.

 

3 was the hottest hour of the day. It was when the blood spilt at the executions dried the fastest, when the crowd’s energy would get as fired up as the day’s heat.

 

But 4 was when the dried blood didn’t matter. When the cooling sky changed color ever so slightly, changing the moods of the people ever so subtly. When blood was ready to be spilt again, this time running down the streets in bright streaks before they dried, leaving behind stark reminders of what had happened and what could happen again.

 

4 was the hour of death.

 

And from that day on, it was also the hour of betrayal.

---