Sojung isn’t sure what it is that stops them, the possibility that they may be seen, or the thought of the man who is husband to one of them and brother to the other, but they don’t kiss. They don’t even sit any closer. As much as Sojung wants to hold Yerin, aches to hold Yerin, she keeps herself perched on the side of the bed, like she wants to keep an escape route open.

They haven’t technically confessed to each other, but for once, Yerin put her heart on her sleeve and Sojung oh so carefully took it. Or apparently, she’s had it all along.

Sojung picks up the bowl that she had somehow managed to not drop. “You still have to finish your medicine, you know.”

Yerin sighs, but her expression is resigned. “Okay, I might as well get it over with. It tastes even worse once it’s cooled anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sojung says, bringing another spoonful to Yerin’s mouth. “Just hold your breath and drink it quickly.”

“Shouldn’t I just gulp it down straight from the bowl then?”

“Do you want to?”

“No.” Yerin pouts. “I don’t want to drink it at all.”

“I’ll give you something nice if you do.”

Yerin’s face turns slightly pink. “Like what?”

“You’ll see after you drink it.” Sojung brushes a lock of hair away from Yerin’s face. “Come on, I feel like I’m bribing a kid.”

“I hope your prize isn’t candy then.”

“I promise it’s sweet,” Sojung says with a smile.

Yerin pinches her nose and opens , a look of suffering on her face, and Sojung laughs as she reaches for the bowl. Yerin gulps down its contents in a few seconds, swallowing with her eyes squeezed shut like she can keep out the taste that way. She looks so cute that Sojung wishes there was some way she could capture this moment.

“Done,” Yerin announces.

“I’m impressed,” Sojung says. “You downed that like a champion.”

Yerin grins, dimples popping out, and Sojung wishes she could save this too. “Where’s my prize?”

“It’s on its way,” Sojung says. “Close your eyes.”

Yerin does so, and not only does she shut them but she stays completely still as Sojung moves closer to her, and then even closer, until their faces are only inches apart. Then Sojung presses a whisper-soft kiss to Yerin’s forehead, like a blessing.

“There,” Sojung says, struggling to keep her expression even. “Was that a decent prize?”

Yerin’s eyes flutter open, and she fixes Sojung with a look that makes her heart beat triple time. “Yes,” she murmurs. “It was definitely sweet.”

 

Sojung has been wondering something since Kim-taeui said that fatal word, “safflower,” and she felt her blood chill as if merely saying it spread a poisonous taint in the air. The question has been burning in the back of , at the tip of her tongue, and she can taste the simultaneous anticipation and dread of it.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” Yerin says, as astute as always. “Why don’t you just say it?”

“I. Well.” Sojung hesitates. “Did Kim-taeui tell you about…?”

“The safflower?” Yerin asks calmly. “Yes, he did tell me.” She says it like he told her she has a simple cold, not that she was poisoned with one of the most infamous plants in the palace.

Sojung gives her an incredulous look. “And it doesn’t alarm you?”

Yerin sighs and runs a hand over her face. “Do you want it to? Do you want me to be crying in fear? Looking over my shoulder every other second for an assailant?”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.” Aren’t you scared at all? Sojung wonders. Because I am. I’m terrified.

“If I let myself think about it too deeply, if I let myself focus on it…” Yerin shudders. “Then yes, it does alarm me. It frightens me. I knew that I had enemies in the palace, but I did not imagine that they would take such an extreme measure. Not at such a stage, anyway.”

“Not at such a stage?” Sojung repeats.

“I figured that if someone were to try to poison me, it would at least be until after Seokjin-jeoha has succeeded the king.” Yerin says it so casually that Sojung wonders how long she’s been thinking about this. She can’t help but imagine the future: Seokjin as the king and Yerin as his queen consort. It’s a beautiful picture; the two of them have always made a resplendent couple, and one day they would be the couple who would rule over the kingdom.

Sojung wonders where she fits into this picture. Of course, she doesn’t. She’ll probably be married off to some nobleman in another kingdom in a political alliance. If she’s lucky, he’ll be kind to her and their children. She wonders if Sinbi would accompany her.

“Unnie?”

“I was scared, Yerin,” Sojung says, reaching out and gripping her hand like she’s afraid Yerin’s going to float off otherwise. “I thought you—” She swallows, unable to even complete the thought, not to mention the sentence. “You don’t know how scared I was.”

“Do you remember that time you caught the influenza that was going around the palace?” Yerin says softly. “They said you might not make it. So I do know how scared you were, unnie, because I felt the same way.”

Sojung feels her breath catch in . “You mean…even then?”

“Always,” Yerin says.

 

Sojung can’t hold the question back any longer. “Do you…have any idea as to who was responsible?”

“I have a few,” Yerin says, tight-lipped.

“You won’t share them with me, will you?” Sojung asks, already knowing the answer to her question.

“They are only suspicions. I have no proof, and if I were to make empty accusations, it would only seem that I am paranoid or that I have my own agenda.”

Sojung places a hand against Yerin’s cheek, cradling it with utter care. Yerin’s eyes slip shut and she relaxes into Sojung’s touch. “But what if…”

“What if they try again?” Yerin finishes her incomplete question. Sojung somehow manages a nod. “I can and I will take precautions, but I cannot stop them from another attempt.” She’s silent for a moment. “Maybe they’ll grow careless and reveal their tracks next time.”

This time, the person had tried to take Yerin’s ability to bear a child. Next time, what if they go for her life? After all, safflower is not a sure way to induce infertility, but there are lethal poisons that can take effect in minutes, that can take a life in minutes. Sojung feels cold at the mere thought, the chill spreading from her chest to the tips of her fingers, which start to tremble.

“Unnie?” Yerin’s brow creases in concern. She takes Sojung’s hand and slips her fingers in between hers. “Do not fear for me. This is simply a part of life in the palace. I have accepted this possibility long ago.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Sojung says. “This isn’t—this is no way to be living.”

“It’s the only way I know how,” Yerin says with a weary smile. “And you know…” She almost trails off. “You might have to as well, one day.”

Sojung stares at her, and although Yerin’s eyes are pained she holds Sojung’s gaze. In that moment, she knows that Yerin saw the same future for them, a future where there is no them. She wonders if Yerin ever saw a future where they could be together, if such a future could even exist.

(She knows that it can’t, that there is far too wide a chasm between fantasy and reality, and she has wished to bridge the two for so long that maybe she convinced herself that she could do it. But she can’t. She can’t, and it hurts. It hurts.)

“I heard that commoners envy our lives,” Sojung says, “that they dream of living in the palace, and women dream of being able to marry into royalty. I wonder if they still would if they knew what life in the palace is really like.”

Yerin is silent for a moment. “I think…they cannot hope to understand our struggles, just as we cannot hope to understand theirs. They don’t know what it’s like to live in a web of deceit, to fight for every tiny scrap of power and hope not to get betrayed. But we don’t know what it’s like to want for shelter, to be sick and not be able to afford medicine, to beg on the streets for food and drink. People in the palace often say that they want a life outside of it, just as people in the streets want a life inside the palace. Nobody is ever happy with their lives.”

Sojung nods, slowly, her head heavy with the truth, dragging her neck down with it like she’s preparing for the chopping block. She wonders what that’s like, being happy with your life.

“If there is one thing I am grateful for in the palace,” Yerin says, “it is that you are here. For you to be in my life – that is not something I could give up, no matter how appealing the outside world may seem.”

“You know that it is the same for me,” Sojung says quietly.

“And you know that I—”

“Wangsejabin, gongjunim,” comes Yuna’s voice from outside, just a little too loud. “Wangseja has returned.”

Yerin grabs Sojung’s hand and squeezes it with force to the point of pain. “You know,” she says insistently, and Sojung replies, “I do.”

When Seokjin walks into the room, Yerin is sitting in bed with her hands set in her lap and Sojung is standing to the side.

“How are you feeling?” Seokjin asks with such tenderness that Sojung feels like an intruder.

“Better,” Yerin says with a small smile.

“Did Sojung take care of you?”

Yerin glances over at her, and as well as Sojung knows her, she can’t make out anything in her expression. No warmth, or tenderness, or affection. It’s like the Yerin she was with just minutes ago has disappeared, or rather retreated into herself.

“Yes, she did,” Yerin says. “Sojung unnie is good at taking care of people.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Seokjin says. “Sojung, thank you. I hope I haven’t taken you away from anything important.”

Nothing can be more important than this, Sojung thinks, using every vestige of willpower she has to not give anything anyway. She isn’t as good at this as Yerin, not even close. “You have not. How was the meeting with abeonim?”

A crease forms between Seokjin’s eyebrows. “It was…enlightening.” That could mean almost anything. “He wishes to speak to you later.”

“To me?” Sojung asks in surprise.

“He is our father, Sojung,” Seokjin says, amused.

He sure doesn’t act like it, Sojung thinks, but of course she can’t say that. Not about the king. “Right. Well, does he want me to go to him or…?”

“He said he will send someone for you later.”

Great. She’s almost beside herself with excitement.

Seokjin turns back to Yerin. “You drank your medicine, right?”

“Yes. I promised you I would, didn’t I?”

“I knew you would.” He smiles. “You wouldn’t let me down.”

Sojung clears . “If it’s all right with you, orabeoni, I’ll take my leave. I see that I am no longer needed here.”

“Of course, and thank you again. I appreciate your help, Sojung.”

She pastes a smile on her face and hopes it looks genuine. “It was my pleasure.”

“Don’t worry about abeonim wanting to see you,” he says, his voice gentle. He must think that her expression is because of that. “He is not displeased with you.”

“That is so reassuring, because his opinion means the world to me.” As soon as the words leave , she regrets them.

Seokjin shakes his head and laughs. “I forget how funny you can be sometimes. You are—rebellious, and it is refreshing to witness.”

“Only in words, not actions,” she says with a chuckle that falls flat. “If somebody heard what I just said, I would probably be in line for a lashing.”

“I will not tell anyone,” he says seriously. “You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” Sojung says, and she can’t help but think that she can’t say the same to him. “Ye-Yerin, I will see you sometime. I wish you the best in your recovery.”

“Thank you,” Yerin replies politely. “Please take care of yourself.”

“Right,” Sojung says hollowly. “I will.”

 

When Sojung returns to her own chambers, she just wants to lie down in her bed and sleep for a long, long time. Maybe in her dreams, she can see Yerin. Of course, she could go see Yerin as early as the next day and nobody will think anything of it, but she can’t exactly hold or kiss Yerin. She only has her dreams for that.

However, it seems that sleep is unlikely in the near future, because Sinbi is waiting for her and jumps to her feet when she sees her.

“I heard that Yerin unnie was hurt,” Sinbi says immediately. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Sojung replies. “She was…taken ill but she’s making a swift recovery.”

“Taken ill?” Sinbi repeats, sounding unconvinced. “Did she contract an illness? A serious one? Is it contagious?”

“It’s not, so you don’t have to worry about catching it from me if I got it.”

Sinbi frowns. “That’s not what I was worried about.”

Sojung sighs. “I know. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that… It scared me, seeing Yerin so sick. She rarely even caught a cold when we were kids, and now, to know that she just suddenly lost consciousness and nobody even knows what happened to her… It was terrifying.”

“It does sound really scary.” Sinbi’s eyebrows pull together. “Is Yerin unnie really okay?”

“She’s really okay,” Sojung says, feeling like the more she says those words, the more she can believe them. “I wouldn’t have left her side if she weren’t.”

“Would wangseja be okay with that?” Sojung stiffens. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Sinbi says hurriedly. “I heard that he ran through half the palace to get to her side when he found out she was ill. Gungnyeo are sighing about it as a sign of true love or something.”

“I’m sure that he does truly love her,” Sojung says tiredly. “He was the only person who was as worried about her as I was.”

“Well, you truly love her too, don’t you, unnie?”

Sojung looks at Sinbi, opens and then shuts it again.

“I’m sure you would have run through the whole palace for her.”

“Of course I care for Yerin,” Sojung says evasively. “We have been friends since we were children. She is very dear to me.”

Sinbi gives her a look. “Right,” she says, sounding supremely unconvinced.

Sojung feels like she should add something, but she’s too tired and anyway, this is Sinbi and if there’s anything Sojung knows, it’s that she can trust her.

 

Sojung looks tired, not just physical weariness but beyond that. Sinbi makes her a cup of her favourite tea in the hopes it’ll give her some energy. She takes a long sip of it and exhales, her eyes a thousand miles away. Or maybe not that far, probably just at the other side of the palace with a certain consort.

“How was your day?” Sojung asks. “You were with Eunha earlier, right? Did you two get up to some mischief?”

“Why do you always ask that about us?” Sinbi grumbles. “You make us sound like a duo of troublemakers.”

“Isn’t that what you are?” Sojung laughs, that dimple-like line beside showing, and Sinbi’s heart skips a beat.

“For your information, unnie, I’m the best behaved gungnyeo in the palace.”

“Right, of course,” Sojung says with a straight face. “How could I have forgotten that? I must have simply imagined all the trouble you got into.”

“You must have. I told you when we were at the temple that there was too much incense, unnie. Maybe they had hallucinogenic properties.”

“If so, shouldn’t you be hallucinating along with me?”

“Maybe I am,” Sinbi says. “Maybe I’m imagining you right now.” Sometimes she thinks that Sojung is too good to be real, is the kind of princess that you dream of rather than meet. Certainly, she’s met enough royals to know that Sojung is not like most of them, is better than them.

Sojung gives a soft chuckle. “I hope I’m more like a dream than a nightmare then.”

“Of course you are,” Sinbi blurts out. You are what dreams are made of.

Sojung’s eyes have slipped shut, so she doesn’t see Sinbi’s expression. “Speaking of dreams, I am very tired. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.” She opens her eyes and gives Sinbi a gentle smile. “Thank you, Sinbi.”

“For what?”

“For—being in my life.” Sojung gets that faraway look in her eyes again. “What happened today made me realize how short life can be and how important it is to treasure the people in our lives.”

Sojung sounds…strange, and it makes Sinbi ask, “Is Yerin unnie really okay?”

“Yes.” Sojung pauses. “Of course she is. Why?”

“You sound like…like she’s really ill or something.”

“She’s not. She’ll be completely fine.”

Sinbi hesitates. “Will you be, unnie?”

Sojung looks at her, blinks and turns her face away so that Sinbi can only see her profile. She looks beautiful but distant, like a character from a fairy tale rather than a person here in Sinbi’s life. “Yes. One day. I hope.”

She’s started to walk away and she’s almost reached the inner chambers when Sinbi finds her voice.

“Unnie. Thank you.”

Sojung stops but doesn’t turn around. “For what?”

“For being in my life.” It’s only because Sojung’s back is to her that Sinbi can say her next words. “No matter what, I want you to be in it. I’m grateful you’re in it.”

Sojung is silent, and the only sound Sinbi can hear is that of her own blood rushing in her ears. She wonders if Sojung will just say nothing and walk away, but she does speak.

“Thank you,” she says, finally. “That means a lot. Get some rest too, okay?”

She continues walking away, albeit with slower, heavier steps, and soon she’s out of sight. Sinbi is left standing there, thinking about how Sojung didn’t say you too.

---

A/N: I don't know why I hurt WonRin like this. And WonB at the end too. Why did I do this to them, why did I do this to myself lmao.

Also, this is literally all I have written (I wrote the majority of this story in like two borderline all nighters before some important test/assignment, like when I do most of my writing) so I'm not sure when the next update will be. I was on a marathon writing this and then after that I've just been stuck for weeks and weeks so it's not looking good.