*A very small part of this chapter is similar to the crack one I posted, but everything else is new. I’m keeping that one there too because everyone seemed pretty amused by it, and you can go back if you’re still in the mood to read crack after this ends.

I highly doubt.

Part 6 : Yoo Seolhwa, Park Chanyeol

It’s very early the next morning when we make our way back to the palace. The sun isn’t up yet, and probably won’t be for another hour or so. The village itself is silent, and not a soul is seen when we walk through it. I’m still bundled up in Chanyeol’s robe, and the ends of it drag on the ground because it’s too long for me. I’ve given up trying to roll it up, and he tells me that he doesn’t really mind if it gets dirty. Halfway back, I’ve tripped over it too many times and I end up holding the sides up.

The wound on my back still hurts, stinging painfully even at the slightest movement. I try to keep it straight and stiff so the pain isn’t too unbearable, but after a night of squeezing on the small bed, my whole body is sore and it’s harder than it should’ve been to keep my back still.

Chanyeol’s gaze flickers to me worriedly every couple of seconds. “Go to the infirmary when you get back,” he tells me. “You’re lucky that assassin didn’t have poison on the blade. If he did…” he pressed his lips together.

“I’m fine.” I manage a weak smile, though it’s definitely not enough to convince him. Especially when it turns into more of a wince.

“Someone must’ve known we left,” he mutters. “There’s no way other way they could’ve found us like that. But then it means that whoever’s been handing out this information to others also has close watch over the two of us. Especially me.”

It had been worrying when I’d been told there was a traitor in the palace, but at the same time, it had been expected, too. There’s no way everything that had happened before would’ve taken place if they hadn’t been receiving orders from someone inside. Still, to know that it’s probably someone in the palace that Chanyeol had trusted enough to give information on his whereabouts (or has enough power to track where the king is) is more than just disturbing.

“Do you have any guesses who it might be?” I ask. Speaking manages to divert my attention from the pain.

His eyes flash in frustration. “I don’t even know when to start. I used to think that it could be one of the servants or guards because… I want to trust the people that I’m close to, but at this point, it has to be a person that knows me well. I can’t even look at someone straight in the eyes without wondering if it may be them.”

“Is there… anyone suspicious in your advisors?” Park Jinhwan. The couple of times that I’ve come across him have been far from pleasant, though I’m not sure if he counts as someone Chanyeol is close to. And while I don’t want to jump to assumptions, he doesn’t even try to hide how disdainful he is around me.

He wrinkles his nose at that. “Most of them were my father’s, but they were… they’ve been there when I grew up. I remember playing with a good couple of them when I was younger. It’s just so hard to tell.” His voice tightens at the last couple of words, near breaking, and I decide not to push the topic anymore.

***
 

The palace is frantic when we get back. Kim Minseok is the first to actually find us, and his eyes widen in surprise and then relief when he sees us. It only takes one scan and he seems to have zeroed in on me. “You’re injured,” he says immediately.

Chanyeol nods. “Take her to the infirmary — someone cut her down the back — and call a meeting. I need to figure out a way to tighten security around the palace especially because this is getting ridiculous.” From the way his jaw tightens, I’m pretty sure ridiculous is an understatement.

Chanyeol disappears in the direction of his chambers, leaving too abruptly to even see Minseok’s bow. He turns to look at me instead. He has a sword strapped down his back, and while it’s the only noticeable weapon on him, he undoubtedly has more. Baekhyun is able to hide a couple daggers in just his cloak.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” Minseok says quietly. “Can you still walk? You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

I wince. “The infirmary’s not far.”

We head in the direction in silence for a while, and then finally, he speaks up. “What happened? I’m guessing you were attacked, but… why were you missing for the whole night?”

“I was bleeding really badly and we were closer to the village than the castle. He found an inn and paid for a room for the night and then bandaged the wound.” I hesitate. “He did kill the two assassins, though.”

Minseok gnawed on his bottom lip, expression visibly worried. “Someone has to be tracking everything he does really carefully if they know that he left the palace. He didn’t even tell any of us where he went.”

At that moment, footsteps sound from behind us. I turn around just in time to see Baekhyun running towards us, hair a dishevelled mess. He hasn’t even tied the front of his robe properly, though he looks as if he hasn’t slept in days. “Are you okay?” he demands. “Where’s the king? Is he hurt? You can’t just disappear for the whole night like that without telling anyone—”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok says calmly. “The king is fine. I’m taking her to the infirmary.”

Baekhyun visibly relaxes at that, though he still looks tense. He follows behind the two of us, hand resting on the sword hilt that’s sticking out awkward. He looks as if he grabbed his robe and his sword and left running and dressed then. Either way, his hair is still an absolute nightmare.

He scans me. “You’re injured.”

I manage to give him a smile, though it’s halfhearted and wavering. “What’s with all of you people being able to tell that I’m injured with just one glance?”

His eyes land on my back. “I’m a soldier.” His voice is graver than I expect. “I’ve been trained to look for small details. I can tell easily if there’s a falter in your step, and you’re holding your back up very stiffly right now. Also, you look like you’re in pain too.”

If he’s been trained to look for such things, does that mean Chanyeol has too? He never strikes me as much of a fighter whenever he’s around me, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. I’ve seen Baekhyun in action more than I’ve seen the king, and even with his talkative personality and constant smiles, he hits me as more of a fighter than Chanyeol is (Minseok, on the other hand, is quite, expression always stoic, and the exact person I imagine to be an elite guard).

After what feels like forever, Minseok finally opens the door of the infirmary. “I have to go check on the king,” he tells me. “The palace has been in an uproar because he’s been missing for the night and they found traces of blood on the floors, and he’s going to have to report the incident in full soon too.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “Baekhyun will guard the doors.”

With that, he’s gone. Baekhyun slips out the door too, closing it so it’s just a crack. I sit in lonely silence until the doctor comes.

***

Every slight noise makes Chanyeol jump.

He’s near paranoid by now, and it’s not really a good thing. The palace has so many distractions. He’s irritated after the meeting, and spending time alone in the archives seems to be the best idea. It’s relatively quiet, and the smell of ageless books and just… it’s not something that he can describe, but it’s a comforting scent. He used to spend hours in the archives, flipping through the yellowed pages of old books and reading stories when he was stressed or tired. Virtually no one actually goes into the archives except him and the palace librarian (who looks as old as some of the books).

And as much as he likes his time alone, it’s disconcerting when he sits by himself, trying his best to concentrate on the book in front of him. The archives are huge, and being the only person in such a huge space is frightening. He brings a dagger with him just in case, but trapped inside a maze of bookshelves…

He shakes it off and flips a page. It’s frightening loud.

For a couple minutes more, Chanyeol tries to ignore the feeling of discomfort and paranoia, but he doesn’t last long before he drops the book back onto the chair and stands up. He makes his way towards the door as fast as he can without running.

The heavy wooden doors click shut behind him, noise echoing in the empty hallway and he swallows down the fear. He used to tell Baekhyun that the numerous assassination attempts didn’t bother him (“I’m used to it,” he’d say, hoping his expression didn’t betray anything. “I’m a king. There are people who want me dead. It’s nothing new”), but it’s acutely different when there’s someone else being targeted also.

The sun’s still high in the sky when Chanyeol glances out the window. He catches a glimpse of the sunlight, though the windows in the hallways of this side of the palace have tinted glass. He steers clear of the patch of light anyways and makes his way to Seolhwa’s room.

The door is open ever so slightly when he arrives, and Baekhyun is standing guard outside like usual. His expression doesn’t change when he sees Chanyeol, just gives him a slight nod. He looks uncharacteristically serious, back straight, clothing tidier than the last time Chanyeol remembers seeing him, and numerous weapons on him. He can see the plated edge of a chestplate peeking out from his robes. He looks like he’s ready for a fight, and that scares Chanyeol.

Go Eun is sitting with Seolhwa when he steps inside. Her eyes widen ever so slightly when she sees Chanyeol, and then manages a weak smile at him. “I’ll leave now,” she says. “I think Baekhyun could use some company outside. I’ll stand guard with him for a while.”

She steps out the door, leaving Chanyeol standing in the middle of the room staring at Seolhwa.

There’s the gold glimmer of something folded neatly at the side of the bed, and he realizes it’s the robe he lent her. She’s changed out of it, and she looks like she’s washed the dirt and blood off her arms and face too. Still, he can’t say that her face is any less paler than before. Chanyeol is pretty sure that it’s not just from the blood loss.

“How was the meeting? Did you… do you have any guesses as to…”

Chanyeol gives her a grimace. He thinks of all the faces of the advisors, most familiar, people he used to think he could trust. Even Park Jinhwan — a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have had his doubts. Now he can’t even look at Baekhyun straight without wondering, and though he knows it’s a ridiculous thought (because if Baekhyun wanted him dead, it would’ve happened a long time ago), he can’t help it either. “No,” he says. Or maybe the proper answer is yes — everyone could be suspicious — but that’s not a very good guess and neither would it be very reassuring. “I… have no idea right now.”

Seolhwa bites her lip. “I’m sure you’ll find out someday.”

“And also.” Chanyeol glances outside the door, where he can see the faint outlines of Baekhyun and Go Eun. They’re talking in hushed voices. “I want to send your mother and Yeonhwa somewhere else. The palace isn’t at all safe anymore, and it might be best if you went with them too. I can send soldiers with you, but until we’ve weeded out the traitor, I don’t think you should stay here any longer. It's too dangerous here.”

She does a double take at him. “What?”

He hesitates. It’s not something he’s really thought through very well (especially not for her — at this point, he’s sure that sending her family away would be the smartest idea). Chanyeol doesn’t want to do so — he seldom sees her mother or Yeonhwa — but the couple of times he has, they look like they’ve settled well in the palace. He catches glimpses of Seolhwa’s younger sister running in the gardens, picking the many flowers, and perhaps the last thing he wants to do is to send them away.

Still, there’s no other choice now that he looks at it. “You’re not safe here,” he repeats.

“The palace?” Seolhwa looks as if she still hasn’t quite swallowed his words. “I… where else would could they…”

It takes a lot of self control for him not to shrug helplessly. “I asked Minseok about it the other day, because he was born in a smaller town about an hour from the palace and he’s studied way more maps than I have. He knows a couple villages you could go to, and if I send a handful of guards, it should be fine. As soon as I find the traitor, I’ll send someone to take you back—”

“I’m not going.” There’s a strange kind of conviction in her voice that Chanyeol rarely hears in Seolhwa’s tone. She doesn’t argue much with him — there isn’t much to argue about — but this time, she sounds downright certain. “I agree that Yeonhwa and my mother shouldn’t stay here if it’s so dangerous, but it’ll be too obvious if I leave too. Even though there’s someone sneaking in assassins into the palace, wouldn’t it be more dangerous out there if I’m with just a couple guards? Splitting up just…” she frowns. “It’s a really obvious solution and it would be odd if they didn’t catch onto it too. Sending just my mother and Yeonhwa away quietly without telling anyone would be better.”

Chanyeol scans her head to toe. “You’re lying.”

Her expression wavers for a split second and that's enough to ell him. “I’m not.”

“You’re not telling me to just send them away because it’s safer for you to be here, are you?”

“I am.”

“Seolhwa, you’re obviously not.”

She holds his gaze for a little while longer, lips set in a determined line, before her resolve crumbles first. Chanyeol watches as she looks down, blinking rapidly a couple of times, before finally saying, “It’s safer if they go without me. No one's keeping as close a watch on them as they are on me, and if they without anyone knowing, it's possible no one will notice either. But if I go with them, whoever the traitor is is going to find out about my absence for sure.”

“You’re not safe at all if you stay at the palace, though.”

“I don’t care.” There’s a note of finality in her tone, and Chanyeol can’t even say no to her anymore (or maybe, he doesn’t really want to either. It’s a last  minute, hasty decision when he told her to go with her mother and Yeonhwa because as much as he doesn’t want to spend days in the palace by himself again, the thought of her actually being killed is much worse. The blade that had cut her just the last night — if the assassin had been closer, if she hadn’t been as fast — it could’ve gone straight through. The wound had already been bad, but the thought of it being much worse was nauseating). “I’m staying here. If you’re staying here, I’m staying here too.”

He can’t argue with that anymore, though the feeling of dread is heavy when he turns around to go.

***

It’s a short goodbye, with promises to see each other again soon. No one except Chanyeol and I and the guards accompanying my mother and Yeonhwa know where we’re going, and Chanyeol calls for a meeting that night when they’re leaving. And though we’ve both done everything we’ve could to make it remain a secret, there’s only worry and fear when I watch the group of them disappear down the empty hallway.

Around an hour later, when the sun has fully set, Chanyeol joins me in my room. I notice the dark circles beneath his eyes, and the pale light just makes it stand out more. He looks absolutely exhausted.

“I still think you should leave,” he mumbles, making himself comfortable on the bed. I watch as he flops down onto the pillow, shutting his eyes. “It’s not safe here.”

“You’re not safe here, either,” I retort. The tremble in my voice doesn’t go unnoticed though, and Chanyeol cracks open an eye and looks up at me.

“I’m the king. I’m used to this. I’ve been dealing with this for how long? I think I was six years old the first time someone tried to kill me.”

He speaks of it so casually, like it’s not big deal that someone tried to assassinate him when he was a child and while I want to comment about it, I don’t think my voice would work. It’s a scary thought. “Well, I’m used to it too. I stole for a living before coming to the palace. People trying to kill me isn’t anything new.”

“These people have been training to kill every since they could hold a blade.” He’s still lying on the bed, but the tone of his voice has changed to a darker note. “This is what they do best. Killing. I don’t think these are the kind of people you’ve encountered in the village.”

Is he purposely trying to scare me? I squint at Chanyeol’s face, trying to read him, though it’s impossible. Is he telling me this because it’s the truth and I have to be careful, or is he trying to frighten me into leaving? If it’s the former, I already know that being too careful is never too much. If it’s the latter, I’ve already made up my mind about staying and there’s nothing that’ll convince me otherwise.

“I’m not going to leave,” I tell him one last time, just in case his intention was to get me to leave.

A pair of serious eyes stare back at me. Chanyeol doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then finally, presses his lips together and then sits up. “Be careful,” is all he says before swinging his legs off the bed. “I’ll station more guards at the doors, but from experience, that’s not going to be top effective.”

He stares a couple moments more, and then, hesitates and reaches over, wrapping me in a tight hug. I sit still for a moment, taken by surprise, and then slowly relaxes into Chanyeol’s familiar grip. His arms are tight, though not to the point where it’s painfully tight. I can feel one hand running down my hair absentmindedly.

It feels safe, it feels warm, and the comfort is a fleeting feeling that I’d like to hold onto.

It slips through my fingertips like water.

***

Exactly three nights after Seolhwa’s family has left, Chanyeol wakes up to frantic banging on the door to his chambers.

It’s a rude awakening — he rarely even sleeps peacefully these days, and it’s turned to be a rare exception that he’s been able to sleep without snapping awake in the middle — when Kim Jongin bursts into his room after continuously thumping at it.

Still, Chanyeol’s been through enough emergency situations to know that something’s wrong if they wake him in such a way. He snaps up in an instance, and Jongin stands, leaning heavily against the door, panting and out of breath. “It’s an absolute massacre,” is the first thing he says, though Chanyeol’s already reaching for the set of weapons at his bedside. “I don’t know what happened, but there’s dozens of people from outside and we haven’t been able to identify any. I haven’t seen Baekhyun at all — and he was supposed to be guarding Seolhwa’s room — but it’s chaotic out there and they were apparently trying to break in—”

Chanyeol’s on his feet and sprinting before Jongin can finish his sentence. He can hear the other running after him, though his heart is pounding so hard that it’s painful and he can barely hear anything. He had initially expected to be the one targeted — what had happened last time was because he was gone — but Seolhwa was an easier target than he was. She couldn’t exactly fight back against trained assassins, and ordinary guards were nothing compared to them either. Baekhyun was there, but he himself wouldn’t be enough if they managed to sneak more than five people into the palace.

The terror makes him run faster.

When Chanyeol finally turns to the set of doors that lead into the section of the palace her room is in, his first reaction is to freeze.

There’s blood everywhere, and it’s light enough for Chanyeol to actually see it. The lamps gleam too brightly, and the walls have been painted red. Two soldiers lay on the ground, motionless, long dead, a terrifying, nightmarish image that he can’t bear to look at. Chanyeol stumbles, reaching for the wall and dry heaves. His free hand trembles around the blade he’s holding, though the redness is etched in his mind even when he squeezes his eyes shut.

Footsteps sound behind him, and Jongin runs up to him. “Your majesty,” he manages, and then a moment later, darkness sweeps over.

Chanyeol opens his eyes slowly. He can’t help his reaction, though Jongin’s been smart enough to extinguish both lamps so that the hall is dark again. The metallic scent of blood is suffocating in the air, though it’s not as bad as actually seeing it and the fear makes him move forward again. He shoves open the heavy double doors.

It’s bright inside the hallway too, and Jongin’s not exaggerating when he said there was a massacre.

He’s petrified with absolute fear. There’s so much blood, so much death in front of his eyes, something that darkness can’t hide. It’s in the air, it’s in the atmosphere, in front of his eyes — the whole place is heavy with it. He holds back the urge to retch, though that’s the most he can do.

“Your majesty,” Jongin grits out behind him, though even he sounds shaken. “Don’t look at it.”

How can I not? he wants to demand back, though he can’t even get a word out. It’s everywhere.  

He forces himself forward, though his feet feel heavy. Jongin moves behind him, steps quick, urging him to go forward. Chanyeol tries to blur out the images, though they just come back in sharper focus whenever he tries to shove them away. His brother. His father. His mother. All dead.

And maybe Seolhwa, if I don’t hurry.

The door to her room is wide open when he gets there, now in a run, and it’s only when he sees the limp figure at the front of her room that he skids to a stop. Byun Baekhyun.

He’s rolled onto his stomach, face hidden and curled up. He’s not moving, though Chanyeol can’t tell if he’s badly wounded or dead. The latter seems to be an impossible option — he’s seen Baekhyun survive thick and thin, and dying just doesn’t seem to be something that could happen to Baekhyun.  

Jongin gives a choked noise of shock when he sees Baekhyun. Chanyeol stumbles towards the open door.

Seolhwa stares back with terrified eyes.

Jongin joins him and freezes too, though he’s a blur in Chanyeol’s peripheral vision. Terror grips him as he scans the room — there’s a shattered vase, the mirror is smashed into uncountable pieces on the ground, and the single masked assassin in the room has what looks like a painfully tight grip on Seolhwa and the tip of his blade pressed against her neck.

One of his companions is dead on the floor. He remembers passing by the same black outfit outside a couple of times too — the man in front of them is possibly the only one left.

“Drop the weapon,” he growls in a low voice, eyes scanning the room for an escape. “Both of you.”

The blade in his hand clatters to the ground, the sound deafeningly loud against the silence, the still air. Behind him, Jongin bends down slowly and sets down his own sword, then raises his hands placatingly.

The assassin takes a step forward, forcing Seolhwa in the same direction also. Her face is completely drained of color, eyes wide and scanning his, lips pressed in a thin line. There’s a trickle of blood running from where the blade was pressed too tight, and Chanyeol stands still at the door, weaponless, trembling and trying to control himself. One wrong move could mean getting slit.

“Park Chanyeol,” the man growls. “Move aside.”

It’s so odd to hear his name from someone else’s lips. No one except Seolhwa (and sometimes Go Eun, though he doesn’t see her often and she mostly refers to him formally) calls him by his name, and part of him thinks that everyone’s already forgotten it. It’s an exposed, vulnerable feeling to hear it from the assassin.

“Move,” he repeats more forcefully, and he watches as the blade digs into her neck more. “Unless you want the girl—”

Someone moves behind Chanyeol, too quick for him to comprehend. The man barely finishes his word when there’s a short knife sticking from his head, and he crumbles backwards, releasing his grip on Seolhwa. He’s dead before he hits the ground. It’s such a sickening sight that he flinches away.

Both he and Jongin turn around at the same time. Baekhyun’s standing again, face covered with blood and one hand wrapped around his stomach. He’s crouching, breathing in shaky, uneven gasps, and he looks as if he’s going to pass out again at any moment. It takes Chanyeol a moment to realize that he’d been the one who’d thrown the blade at the assassin.

“Baekhyun...” he begins.

“Yoo Seolhwa,” Baekhyun rasps. “I’m fine. Jongin—” he flinches. “I think someone stabbed me in the stomach—that ing hurts—”

Chanyeol turns around to look at Seolhwa. She’s still not moving, standing in the same place. The body of the dead assassin lays on the floor behind her, and the blade he’d had pressed against her neck is lying at her feet. The thin line of blood stands out scarily against her neck.

And then she crumbles too.

***

I wake up with my head pounding and whole body aching.

It’s not a pleasant feeling to say the least, but when my thoughts begin to clear, I recall the last time I’d been conscious — someone had been holding a blade to my neck they’d broken into my room, there had been blood everywhere, I’d tried to run and witnessed Baekhyun getting stabbed in the stomach.

Terror promptly drains into me and I snap upwards.

It’s not my room, though it’s not the infirmary either. The sheets that fall off are red and gold, and there’s a canopy on the bed that doesn’t exist on mine. The room is huge – I’ve never seen a room this big — and there’s also someone sitting beside me, hands folded and eyes grave.

“Chanyeol,” I manage, and then it clicks that these are the king’s chambers. Am I even allowed to be here? Technically I am, because it’s his room and he’s the one who probably brought me here, but it just doesn’t feel right.

The look on his face turns to worry in a couple of seconds when he sees me, and he jolts forward from his chair. “You’re awake,” Chanyeol breathes in obvious relief. “Are you alright?”

I bring a hand to my neck tentatively. I can still feel the cold press of the blade to my neck, the malicious look on the man’s face when he’d grabbed me and dragged me back, blade still bloody from where he’d stabbed Baekhyun. My fingers meet the rougher surface of linen, and I realize that someone’s already bandaged it. “I’m fine,” I manage shakily. “Baekhyun…”

“He’s fine. Jongin got him to the infirmary quick enough, and he didn’t lose blood to the point where it was life threatening, nor did the knife strike anything vital. I don’t think he’ll be up and running anytime soon, though.”

I scan the room one more time. The color scheme is red and gold with hints of black and dark brown, and the carpet that leads to the even larger doors are also red and gold. Despite the pounding headache, I manage a small smile at him. “Colorful,” I say. "Very creative." 

Chanyeol responds with a halfhearted attempt at a smile. “In my defense, I didn’t design this.”

I flop back down onto the bed, though the headache doesn’t exactly go away either. I trace the canopy above my head. The curtains have been drawn over all the windows of the room (and the windows are huge — they’re the size of doors), and the only source of light is from the multiple lamps that have been lit up. The fabric is so thick that I can’t tell if it’s light outside or not.  

“How long have I been out, then?” I can’t quite remember what happened in the last couple of moments too clearly — I can faintly recall seeing Chanyeol, face pale with surprise and fright and fear and someone throwing a blade at the assassin and passing out after that (which was mortifyingly embarrassing). “That was… nighttime.”

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