II. The First Week: Grand Displays

 

Sunlight shines through the glass dome ceiling of the ballroom. A glowing medallion against a clear blue sky. Beautiful and serene. She leans against a pillar, simply staring up above and she wonders how many more visitors have arrived in the capital. Perhaps, a hundred? Two hundred? Or maybe even more?

 

A hard thing to tell.

 

But one thing’s for certain, more were expected. Much more. From what she’s observed, the first week of the festival was reserved for welcoming everyone. Just this morning, banners were still being hung. Merchant stands and tents were in the process of setting up. And wagons of supplies were still traveling from one end of the capital to the other.

 

Many were still arriving. Many were still getting settled. Many were still preparing. And the rest were out sightseeing.

 

All for the festival.

 

But the suitors, well, they were caught up in other things.

 

Here, in the grand ballroom of the castle, they all stand, waiting for their turn. Seulgi reaches into the pocket of her trousers, pulling out a tiny roll of parchment. The invitation they all received two days ago--two days since her encounter with the Princess.

 

Like an autumn leaf, the paper is crisp to her touch. Crackling softly as she carefully unrolls it, reading the elegantly written, short-worded message once again. It says:

 

All suitors are to come to the castle for an audience with the Princess.

 

That's it. Short, sweet, and completely unhelpful.

 

A loud groan echoes as the ballroom doors open for the fifth time that morning. Two knights of the Royal Guard walk in, armor clanking with each step, returning with the suitor who was summoned earlier. They call the name of another Lord to and they all leave the ballroom together, closing the doors behind them once again.

 

It seemed that the “audience with the Princess” was a one-on-one matter. Private between the Princess and the suitor. And it piques Seulgi’s interest as to why they were even bothering with such a thing. Honestly, this quest for a suitor was much too convoluted in her opinion. More than it needed to be, at least.

 

Chatter arises in the ballroom as a handful of men approach the newly returned Lord, interrogating him as to what transpired. Voices trample over each other. Louder and louder. And despite how hard she concentrates, Seulgi’s unable to pick up a single coherent sentence. Gaining any sort of clue was proving to be difficult. All she could do was gauge the turnout of their private meeting by the expressions they wore as they spoke to the crowd surrounding them. Still, it isn’t much for they all seemed to be so… what’s the word?

 

Arrogant?

 

Overconfident?

 

Surely, one of the two.

 

Well, that’s fine, she supposes. She’d just have to take a more direct approach then. With the heel of her boot, Seulgi pushes herself of the pillar, scouting the ballroom for a friendly face. One that wouldn’t mind a bit of idle conversation. And in the far right side of the room, she locks eyes with a tall and slender man. His hair brushed back in waves, touching his ears. He gives a flicker of a smile.

 

He’ll do.

 

The sound of her brisk, light steps echo as she quickly makes her way over to him. A small look of surprise uplifts his face but he seemed to welcome her nonetheless. Then, the golden hawk embroidered on his left shoulder catches her eye.

 

“From the sigil on your tunic, I assume you’re of House Seo. Ruler of Fallcrest,” Seulgi grins, offering her hand.

 

He accepts her handshake.

 

“And I’m assuming from the silver bear pinned to your collar, you’re of House Kang. Ruler of the Bear Claw Isles.”

 

Judging from the approval they find in each other’s eyes, all assumptions are correct.

 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Seul Kang.”

 

“Good to meet you, my Lord, I’m Youngho Seo but I prefer to be called Johnny.”

 

Seulgi raises a brow, slightly shocked by his casualness. Not that it offends her. Not at all. In fact, she quite likes the air about him. Cool and nonchalant. A stark difference compared to the pompous nobility that occupied most of the room.

 

“If that’s the case, then please just call me Seul,” she insists, happy that one less person would be addressing her as Lord Kang.

 

Johnny nods in affirmation before pulling his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest as he warmly smiles.

 

“I’ve never been to the Bear Claw Isles but I’ve heard it’s quite beautiful there.”

 

Pride swells up in her chest and naturally, she can’t help but boast a little.

 

“As both ruler and resident, I’m inclined to say it is,” Seulgi chuckles, maintaining some modesty.

 

The remark draws out a hearty laugh from the man. Easy on the ears and rather sweet sounding for someone so tall as he towered over Seulgi by a head or two. Though they had barely engaged in conversation, Seulgi finds an underlying boyish charm to Johnny. A rather alluring trait. Certainly, he’s a strong contender for the Princess’s hand. And doubtlessly, her brother would’ve never stood a chance against the likes of him.

 

“Well, you’re certainly more well spoken than the first day, Seul, That day, you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. I’m astounded by your turn around,” he says as he begins to his chin in thought. “Or are you just that terrible in front of beautiful women?”

 

Seulgi blinks but quickly regains her composure. This is it. Perhaps, Johnny can give her some of the answers her brother refused to reveal.

 

“Ah, well, I’m certainly not great with beautiful women,” Seulgi says sheepishly, selling a timid smile and scratching the back of head. “But do you mind enlightening me on what exactly happened?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

“I had a bit to drink shortly before,” she lies calmly.

 

Immediately, his jaw drops and he bends his knees to lean in closer. As if they were trading secrets and he was on the edge, wanting to hear more. Fully engaged. Eager to listen. Truth be told, it wasn't the best lie to give but it was definitely the most believable considering her brother. At the very least, she seems to have Johnny’s full attention. And that’s all she needs.

 

“No, why ever would you do that?” he asks, slightly appalled.

 

Why ever, indeed? Funnily enough, she asked her brother the same question when he drank just before an important dinner they were hosting at their castle a few years ago. She repeats the same answer he had given her.

 

“To loosen the nerves. As you correctly guessed, I’m rather horrible when talking to beautiful women. I thought a bit of liquid courage would help. Unfortunately, it reduced me to a bumbling fool from what I’ve heard.”

 

He gives her a sympathetic look. One that seemed to say, he’d been in the same boat once before.

 

“I’ll tell you, the sight was certainly embarrassing.,” Johnny sighs. “Even I felt like hiding for you. My cheeks flushed for your embarrassment.”

 

And Seulgi braces herself, anticipating to hear just what sort of mess her brother made of himself.

 

//

 

Night had fallen and Seulgi starts making her way back to the inn, kicking stray pebbles along the cobblestone walkways as she reaches the gates. Only a fourth of the suitors were able to meet with the Princess so far. Judging from who was called today, she assumes that they’re going in alphabetical order. In which case, her turn would either come tomorrow or the day after.

 

She shoves her hands in the pockets of her trousers, hiding them from the cold. Echoes of Johnny’s voice linger in her head as she thinks back to what he told her--the humiliating tale of her brother’s failure.

 

He had barged in clumsily, storming through the doors of the meeting hall where the suitors were supposed to assemble. At that point, not only had he missed the opening ceremonies but he was late for the gathering as well. In his desperate haste to apologize, he apparently knocked over several decorations--flowers and wreaths tumbled onto the floor. But it didn’t end there, Seulong also tripped over a Lord or two, causing many of those around him to fall from his scrambling and knock into the tables and chairs at which others were seated.

 

According to Johnny, who had met the Princess a handful of times before, he had never seen such a deadly edge in her eyes. Princess Irene’s footsteps echoed in the hall and Johnny told Seulgi of the shivers that ran down his spine at the sight. For the Princess was seething, lips pursed tight as her eyes fell upon Seulong.

 

He choked when he tried to speak. Staggered to his feet only to fall onto his knees, nearly toppling over the Princess but she managed to take a step back just in time. Sharp gasps cut the tension for the briefest moment before the deadly silence enveloped them once more. Princess Irene uttered two simple words.

 

“Get out.”

 

Then, her brother was hoisted to his feet by the Royal Guard, dragged out of the hall, and Johnny assumed he was thrown out of the palace after such a shameful display.

 

Seulgi takes a deep breath, pausing for a moment to gaze up at the starry night sky. Moon shining bright overhead, she finds herself mesmerized by its glow. After hearing that story, it’s a small wonder why Seulong had been so desperate. Her shoulders slump from secondhand embarrassment and she shakes her head.

 

“That idiot.”

 

//

 

Seulong lays on his bed, staring the ceiling. The soles of his feet throbbing from the pain of having walked all morning, afternoon, and evening. Busying himself by roaming the capital, mingling with his fellow visitors and townsfolk.

 

Since the first night of their switch, Seulong decided to take extreme caution and only leave the inn with a disguise. Tying his hair back all the way as opposed to his usual half ponytail and adorning simple clothes just as Seulgi would. Adding a little charm to his ensemble, Seulong tied a bandana around his forehead giving him a look similar to a commoner. No second glances would be spared his way and he could carry on through the festival as just another one of the crowd.

 

Of course, Seulgi warned him beforehand not to get too confident and do anything outrageous, lest he blows their cover. Please, he wasn’t that stupid. Not all the time, at least. He simply nodded and reassured his sister that he would be the utmost careful.

 

And so far, all has gone well on his part.

 

A harsh creaking grabs his attention as he quickly sits himself up from his bed. Seulgi enters the room with an exasperated sigh. And he stares at her, wide-eyed and excited.

 

It was promised that every night upon Seulgi’s return to their room, she would report every single important detail. What the Princess said. What the suitors were doing. What Seulgi did. Every little thing he missed and was supposed to see and do.

 

Seulong scoots to the edge of the bed as Seulgi gently shuts the door and grabs the vanity chair to sit on. She undoes her half ponytail, letting her hair fall to frame her face and then ruffles it a bit.

 

“Alright, I hope you’re not tired. I’ve got a lot to talk about.”

 

With eager anticipation in his eyes, he shakes his head.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

He’d been dying all day to hear what had been going on.

 

//

 

It’s the second day of private meetings with the Princess and it crawls by more slowly than the day before. Almost at a snail’s pace. By noon yesterday, five suitors had their turns. By noon today, barely three have finished. And Seulgi stares hard, watching closely with the utmost concentration as the ballroom doors bellow open upon the return of another suitor. Once again, the rest flock to him with a myriad of questions.

 

“Curious?” Johnny asks as he approaches. Perching himself against the wall beside her.

 

Seulgi raises an eyebrow in return. “Aren’t you?”

 

He gives her a knowing smile.

 

“Somewhat. I shared some drinks with a few of the lads who had their turns yesterday. Would you like to hear?”

 

Seulgi lets the question hang in the air for a bit. Too much enthusiasm may be interpreted as desperation. And although Johnny doesn’t seem the type to be extremely wary of, Seulgi finds it better to be safe than sorry. They’re both wanting the Princess’ hand, after all--along with everyone else in the room.

 

She hums. Counts the seconds in her head up to ten.

 

“Will it cost me anything?”

 

In the corner of her eye, she catches Johnny tapping a finger to his lips, pondering the inquiry briefly. A boyish grin flashes across his face.

 

“How about a bottle of wine to share later?”

 

She shakes her head with a tiny laugh.

 

“Deal.”

 

The crowd begins to die down as many return to their respective places in the room. Grouping up into circles of two or three people, discussing among themselves. About twelve men or so still stand in a loose ring near the ballroom entrance, fishing for whatever information they can.

 

“Well, from what I remember, they said their meeting with the Princess was oddly normal,” Johnny starts as he readjusts the belt of his tunic from being slightly off center. “She asked each of them three questions to start. Their name, their age, and hmm… what was that last one? Ah! That’s right, she asked of something that held great value to them.”

 

Name. Age. Value.

 

Seulgi mentally notes those three points. Very ordinary questions, indeed. Questions that the Princess most likely already knew the answers to as well. Only the last question provokes thought.

 

“That’s rather interesting,” she mumbles. Just loud enough for Johnny to hear and he nods his head along in agreement.

 

“Isn’t it? Let me see, I believe one of them mentioned their collection of prized jewels, each one plucked from different corners of the world. The other responded by saying his House’s ships, claiming they were the best vessels in the kingdom. And the last man blathered on about how incredible his coliseum was, which was, of course, named after him,” Johnny pauses, watching the room for a brief moment. His eyes flutter down to Seulgi. “You see the intent in their answers, don’t you?”

 

“Plainly,” she nods.

 

Jewels. Ships. A coliseum.

 

Each one of them had taken the question as an opportunity to impress.

 

Johnny pushes himself off the wall, taking two steps forward. His hands rest on his hips as he surveys the room once more. He raises his chin, pointing to a man with neatly trimmed chestnut hair wearing a black tunic. “That’s Lord Yunho of House Jung. He’s tall and rather handsome, wouldn’t you agree? Nice set of shoulders too. His family possesses the greatest fortress in the kingdom. And on top of that, his House is among the richest.”

 

“Over there is a rather unique case,” he smiles as his attention switches to the far right corner, settling on two girls Seulgi hadn’t noticed before. Short and petite. One with long blonde hair, tied in a braid draped over her left shoulder. And the other with soft hazel hair, bangs partially obscuring her eyes. “Lady Wendy of House Shon. The blonde next to her is her lady-in-waiting, Yeri. They weren’t here yesterday and I doubt you remember seeing them during your fumble after the opening ceremonies, especially since you were escorted away so quickly, but men are not the only ones after the Princess’ hand,” he winks back at Seulgi, catching the look of surprise on her face.

 

“House Shon is not one to look down on either. Their lands have the best vineyards--something I’m quite jealous of. And well, Lady Wendy is quite the beauty herself.”

 

Johnny motions her closer with the wave of his hand. Eyes narrowing at the small ring of suitors still huddled together. “The man who came back earlier, Lord Changmin of House Shim. He’s the ruler of Aramoor, the land of performers and home of the grandest theater. I heard that the man himself has the voice of an angel, capable of serenading any woman.”

 

He takes a deep breath. His heavy hand clapping down on Seulgi’s shoulder causing her to stumble a bit. She gazes up at him, mildly confused as the boyish smile on his face fades leaving but a small trace behind.

 

“There are a lot of remarkable people here with many desirable things they could offer the Princess. Many of them are desirable themselves,” he says, keeping his voice low. “I don’t know much about your Bearclaw Isles, Seul, but I hope you have something of worth that could appeal to Princess Irene. Your first display has already put you dead last in this race.”

 

Dead last.

 

He isn’t wrong.

 

As if Seulong’s idiocy didn’t cripple his chances enough, now possessions and value hinder them. Abundant riches. Grand monuments. Rare commodities. Unearthly talents. Yes, the Bear Claw Isles are beautiful and in her heart, it stands above all the rest, but she’s not naive. Clean, clear blue waters and luscious forests aren’t tempting treasures to offer.

 

House Kang isn’t among the richest families. They hold no magnificent theaters. No bloody coliseums. They’re an old House. That’s simply it. Land and noble blood is all they have.

 

And somehow, she’ll have to make do with it.

 

“Lord Kang!” a voice shouts.

 

The room goes silent and Johnny whispers to her ear, “You’re up.” He then gives her a gentle push, urging her forward.

 

She begins to walk, slowly and carefully, as she feels the weight of heavy stares fall upon her. In the corner of her eye, she sees about one or two start to whisper. Her footsteps echo and a few more join in, muttering into the ear of the person beside them. Their eyes bore holes into her and their buzzing grows louder. Loud enough for her to pick up on.

 

There’s a repeated phrase.

 

A nickname she’s unknowingly acquired.

 

The Graceless Bear.

 

--

 

Two men of the Royal Guard open the doors to a modest-sized room. Inside, paintings of all sizes cover the walls, ranging from marvelous sceneries to incredible portraits. But aside from the walls, the rest of the room is empty save for a small round table in the center. And sitting there, is the Princess. Her dark eyes falling upon Seulgi’s frame and a small curl twisting at the corner of her lips, beckoning her.

 

“Please, sit.”

 

Seulgi keeps her eyes from wandering. Lifts the chair opposite of the Princess as she pulls it out, so not to scratch the floor, and then seats herself.

 

“Your name?” Princess Irene asks as her expression quickly falls, turning into what looks to be a mix of boredom and impatience. The repetition and formalities seem to be tiring her, Seulgi assumes. And so, she answers promptly.

 

“Seul Kang.”

 

The Princess narrows her eyes.

 

“Is it not Seulong Kang?”

 

For a moment, Seulgi freezes. A slight chill crawls along her skin turning it into gooseflesh but she swiftly regains her composure, clears , and offers a shy grin.

 

“It is, Your Highness. I’m just not very fond of my full name.”

 

There’s a momentary pause, then the Princess sighs and waves her hand.

 

“Fair enough. And how old are you, Lord Kang?”

 

Seulgi’s lips part to speak, quick to answer, but she almost stumbles on saying twenty, revealing her own age and not Seulong’s. With nearly two fumbles in a row, Seulgi pauses, reminding herself to be more careful.

 

“Twenty-three,” she answers.

 

“Oh, you’re just a tad older,” Princess Irene hums to herself. “Do you happen to know my age, my Lord?”

 

“Twenty-two”.

 

The Princess arches a brow and then nods. “I’m pleased to see you’re more attentive than I thought, Lord Kang. That, and you’re not stuttering so far. Obviously, you seemed to have pulled yourself together since your prior embarrassment,” she says with a slight edge to her voice. And still it surprises Seulgi--ever since the night they met in the gardens, how the strength and command in the Princess’ voice defied her small and delicate appearance. Her aura both intimidating and captivating. “Now, Lord Kang, I want to ask, what is something that is of great value to you?”

 

There it was. The question to which Seulgi had been pondering the answer to from the moment she was escorted out of the ballroom.

 

What can she offer?

 

What can she boast about?

 

Really, there is only one thing.

 

“The Isles themselves,” Seulgi answers with conviction.

 

And the response yields a pleasant reaction as the look on Princess Irene’s face brightens and relaxes.

 

“Oh? The Bear Claw Isles?” the Princess tilts her head. “Do tell.”

 

And by some miracle, Seulgi’s answer doesn’t fall flat as she catches the subtle twinkle in the Princess’ eyes, curiosity sparked and intrigue rising. A surge of confidence fills her chest. The time to impress is now or never.

 

“Well, assuming you’ve never been to the Bearclaw Isles, let me say, first and foremost, it is utterly beautiful,” Seulgi grins as she begins to paint a brief picture of home. “The towns are small in number compared to the main continent but the forests, the plains, the lakes, the animals--just the scenery is enough to take your breath away. We may not have the same kind of busyness as the capital and it’s certainly much quieter on the Isles, but such peacefulness and serenity is hard to come by these days, don’t you think?”

 

Words can only do so much and if she had all the time in the world, she would’ve told the Princess everything about the Isles but unfortunately, it was not so. This was but a small meeting among many. And her answer one among all the rest. With little time to impress and only so much to say, Seulgi shrugs, wearing a bashful smile, hoping to at least hold the Princess’ full attention.

 

“Compared to grand coliseums and theaters, it may not seem much but I believe the value and rarity of such a feeling is of great worth. You would surely love it there, Your Highness.”

 

“I see. And what are some things you like to do on the Isles?” the Princess asks, barely batting an eyelash and though her expression was indifferent, a spark still shined in her eyes.

 

And that alone is all Seulgi needs.

 

“Fishing is great, swimming too and--oh, I forgot to mention how crystal clear the sea is around the Isles! Truly, you must see it for your own eyes.”

 

“So you like to fish then, Lord Kang?”

 

“Of course. It’s a small hobby though. I enjoy hunting far more but with such delicious fish all around, how can I resist? I’m sure Your Highness would love it.”

 

“I see.”

 

“And if fishing doesn’t quite suit your taste, there’s plenty of other sights to see and things to do.”

 

That’s right, there was no shortage to the wonder of the Bearclaw Isles--Seulgi makes sure to convey it properly. The words spill so easily from her lips and not a single detail is missed. But as she draws on and on, she notices something. A tiny hint of growing disinterest within the Princess’ gaze. It’s not entirely apparent and to her credit, the Princess concealed her feelings rather well, and Seulgi thinks that maybe she should continue on despite it. Win back the Princess’ attention. Convince her a little more. A few pretty words may win her back.

 

But somehow, Seulgi can’t bring herself to do so. For she can see that it is more than mere disinterest.

 

“Your Highness,” Seulgi says, interrupting her previous ramblings.

 

“Yes?” Princess Irene absentmindedly responds.

 

“May I ask a question?” Seulgi carefully requests. “An honest question.”

 

And surprisingly, the Princess quickly submits.

 

“You may.”

 

“You seem to be rather… irritated,” Seulgi politely states. Because although she was given permission, even the smallest misstep could cost her. “Did something happen? Did I say something wrong?”

 

This time it takes a moment. Brief silence and small deliberation before the Princess gives any kind of reply. A short sigh escapes her.

 

“You are not the sole reason,” the Princess finally admits, sweeping a few strands of hair away that had fallen against her cheek. Then, once again, she is quiet. Lost in her thoughts, it seems, as she begins to twirl her hair around her finger with Seulgi patiently watching and waiting for her to say more. “Since we’re being honest, tell me, truthfully, why do you want to marry me?”

 

Why?

 

Seulgi blinks.

 

The answer is obvious, is it not?

 

“Because you’re the princess. You’re beautiful. Amazing. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

 

Princess Irene scoffs as she shakes her head. A trail of small laughter follows and it is not light and full of amusement. No, it is the sound of bitter disappointment.

 

A misstep.

 

“And that is where my irritation lies,” the Princess sighs. Eyes fierce and voice cutting. “Learning that nearly all of you are the same, Lord Kang. One by one, you each try to impress me. With words, status, possessions.” Little by little, her voice grows louder. “All I wanted was to share a conversation, to actually talk and get to know one another but even that could not be done as I’m simply silenced by everyone’s ramblings and deafened by continuous boasting.” And the embers within her are no longer quiet as the Princess gives in, letting the fire grow--her emotions overcome her. The words pour forth, quick and scalding. “You all want to serenade me? Sweep me off my feet? Then how about starting with the basics and getting to know me. Because then, maybe you all wouldn’t be so eager to have me.”

 

Everything ceases and finally, she breathes.

 

“But I suppose that doesn’t quite matter, does it?” the Princess’ eyes fall to the table, chest heaving as she mutters beneath her breath, “A princess is still a princess.”

 

Seulgi stares dumbfounded. Unsure of what to say or if she should even say anything at all. The Princess’ last few words ring in her head. If she could just say something to--

 

“It seems I’ve spoken too freely. Rather unbefitting of a princess some might say,” Princess Irene speaks again, sounding tired and dejected. Her eyes close and she brings two fingers to her right temple, massaging it to calm herself. “My apologies, Lord Kang. You may leave.”

 

That’s it. After everything, that was it. Seulgi moves to stand, hands gripping the arms of her chair as she’s about to rise but a lingering thought keeps her.

 

A few mere seconds of hesitation.

 

A few mere seconds of quiet.

 

A few mere seconds to remember all that has been said.

 

“Your Highness,” Seulgi gently calls out, “if I could say one more thing.”

 

“Go ahead,” The Princess offers a small nod as she switches to massaging her left temple. “Speak.”
 

“Why didn’t you just tell them then--that all you wanted was plain conversation in getting to know each other? I’m sure if you had said so, then they would have obliged.”

 

The Princess stills. Her eyes flutter open, drifting upward to meet Seulgi’s gaze. A soft and weary smile seems to force itself upon her lips. “Does something so simple need to be said?”

 

//

 

Irene sits quietly by the window of her chambers, watching the evening sunset, wondering--simply wondering. Reflecting back on the long and unfortunately, predictable day, she bites the inside of her cheek. It’s always the same, isn’t it?

 

The doors of her room open and close with a loud thud. Light footsteps follow and they draw closer to where she sits. Strides so familiar to her ear, Irene needn’t turn around. For it could be no one else but her lady-in-waiting, Joy.

 

“Are you annoyed or disappointed?” Joy asks with her signature hint of mischief faintly present in her voice.

 

“Both.”

 

Bright laughter fills the air and Joy further questions. “Why?” And in the reflection of the window, Irene can make out the vague image of Joy smiling widely at her with eyes shimmering like jewels filled with amusement. “It’s exactly as you foresaw.”

 

“Yes, but… I suppose I was a bit hopeful that I wouldn’t be completely right.”

 

And perhaps it was foolish of her, but was it so wrong?

 

So many people--so many different people and yet...

 

“Well, at least there seem to be an interesting few,” Joy sings cheerfully and immediately, Irene turns to face her, wearing a disapproving scowl. Because Joy’s singsong tone was often a cause for worry and more times than not, it spelled trouble.

 

“Joy,” Irene scolds.

 

The taller girl throws her hands up in defense.

 

“No need to be so alarmed, Your Highness. I assure you,” Joy claims. Still, Irene narrows her eyes at her, full of suspicion. And the girl merely giggles. “I simply took a few peeks into the ballroom and listened in on a few conversations. You know how I typically am.”

 

Yes, she knew better than anyone.

 

“Nosy,” Irene smirks.

 

Joy tilts her head, never dropping her smile, “Very. But anyway, it seems you have quite the pick of suitors. I saw a few familiar faces as well. Did you speak with Lord Yunho yet?”

 

“Earlier today, yes.”

 

“He’s grown. I almost didn’t recognize him.”

 

“Yes, he’s matured a lot,” Irene nods.

 

Yunho was taller now, much taller and certainly less lanky from when they were kids. She remembered the way he would always slouch with his head hanging heavy on his shoulders. Unkempt hair covering his eyes. Hands always hiding in his pockets. But today, when he walked into the room with such confidence, she couldn’t help but be stunned. Indeed, he’d grown from boy to man and for a brief moment, she wondered how much of her childhood friend remained. Worried that he was somehow lost to adolescence. It would be no surprise. After all, it’s happened many times.

 

But thankfully, it was not the case. And Irene smiles faintly at the thought. “He hasn’t changed a bit from when we were children. Still as kind as ever and just as easy to talk to. I almost forgot it’s been years since we last saw one another.”

 

“And how about Lady Wendy?” Joy quickly moves on, effortlessly switching topics. “I was rather surprised to see her here. And competing for your hand, no less.”

 

Irene shakes her head at the playfulness in Joy’s voice.

 

She didn’t speak to Wendy yet. The chance would either be tomorrow or the day after. A meeting to look forward to.

 

“Ah, Wendy. Her courage and audacity is admirable. I actually didn’t send an invitation to her but she quickly caught word of what was going on in this year’s festival and insisted she participate. So I allowed it.”

 

In truth, Irene just didn’t have the heart to say no. Wendy was a kind and gentle girl. Warm and loving from the day they met back in their youth. And since that moment Wendy has always looked at her with a tenderness Irene has never seen or felt before. Till this very day, it puzzles Irene--why her? Wendy had a handful of admirers herself and yet, she never gave them the time of day. But for Irene, she seemed to give everything. Even so far as to wanting to be Irene’s mistress of all things.

 

“It’s nice to know Lady Wendy is as entertaining as ever,” Joy giggles, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “She’s always shown you great affection.”

 

“Yes.” Irene turns back to face the window, soaking in what little was left of the sunset. “And it’s much more than I deserve.”

 

But what did she deserve? Who did she deserve? And would she even find them or was this little Moonlight Festival game a farce that would only gather her hopes and break them down into pieces. Perhaps, she should have never listened to her father and taken part then.

 

Mulling over everyone she has spoken with so far, very few shined and all the rest were but lifeless shadows in her mind. So obvious with their intentions, that they would take her for her name, caring for nothing more and settling for no less. But that was to be expected, was it not?

 

Because nothing was different.

 

Nothing is ever different.

 

“Oh!” Joy exclaims from a sudden thought. “I heard you also spoke with that Lord Kang today as well? The clumsy one?”

 

“Yes. Why?”

 

“Nothing,” she hums. A poor attempt to mask her curiosity. “I just find him a bit interesting after the blunder he made. Certainly gave me a good laugh.”

 

And Irene recalls her meeting with him earlier in the day.

 

The Isles themselves.

 

That was his answer. Quite genuine too, given the bright expression he wore as said it. Strangely though, the reasons that followed seemed more forced and tailored as he went on. No heart or soul. Just pretty words to listen to. Empty.

 

“He’s definitely quite odd,” Irene says aloud as she recalled all of her encounters with Lord Kang, trying to determine his character. Though he was proving more difficult to peg than most.

 

“You think so, too?” Joy grins enthusiastically. Then, her voice lowers to little more than a whisper, as if to give a secret. “Did you hear the name that’s been going around then?” Irene’s ears perk up. “The others have started calling him the Graceless Bear. Cute, isn’t it?”

 

Cute?

 

It’s plain mockery.

 

“I don’t like it,” Irene scowls.

 

And Joy muffles a small laugh, knowing just how much the Princess detested such things.

 

//

 

The third day is a bore. Not quite different from the previous two days. Only there is an increase of chatter in the ballroom as more than half of the suitors have already had their turns. They converse and speculate of what’s to come next. Boasting and bragging of their encounters. And Seulgi finds it so amusing and honestly, amazing that they’re so confident that their meeting with the Princess went well. More than well in fact. A great deal of them go so far as to declare that they left the Princess speechless and stole her heart.

 

What nonsense.

 

The memory of Princess Irene’s face fills her head. It was not the look of a maiden awestruck and in love. Far from it. Hidden in the darkness of her eyes and tightly pursed lips was a lady whose great patience and tolerance was withering.

 

Listening to all of them talk, they really had no idea.

 

Johnny’s turn is next and as he is summoned, Seulgi exits the ballroom as well. After having gone through almost half of the suitors, those who had finished were given permission to roam around the first floor of the castle. And now with no one to talk to, Seulgi makes her way down the hall. Aimlessly walking and lost in her thoughts.

 

Her footsteps echo against the marble floors. High ceilings. Long, wide hallways with rooms every few feet.

 

So vast.

 

So empty.

 

A few guards pass her. Two or three maids scurry by with folded sheets in hand. One suitor waves hello and then walks on. And still, she does not stop. Her feet simply continue forward.

 

Wandering.

 

Till she arrives at a dead end, welcomed by two wide-open, giant wooden doors that reached the ceiling, Seulgi enters without a second thought, captivated by sky-high shelves and the smell of old books prickling her nose. Dust shimmers in the light as she walks. Her fingers gently trace the spines of books lining the shelves as she proceeds further and further into the library. The shelves create pathways like a maze and she loses her way, glossing over a myriad of titles. Titles she’s never heard of. Titles that she can barely pronounce.

 

Seulgi had always enjoyed a good tale or two. Though, usually she heard them told from another person, rarely through reading a book. And she thinks, perhaps she knows about two-hundred or so and how small and insignificant that number seems to be among the thousands and thousands of stories collected in this library.

 

Curiosity feeds her, taking her deeper into the library until she hits another dead end with another set of doors--smaller doors. Her eyes narrow at the royal family crest carved into the arch above the doorway. Her hands reach for the handles.

 

“My Lord, that room is off-limits.”

 

And Seulgi’s hands drop instantly to her sides as she turns around to face a rather decrepit old man, hunched over with few small books tucked underneath his left arm.

 

“My apologies, I had no idea,” she quickly bluffs. “I was simply lost and trying to find my way out.”

 

He slowly smacks his lips a few times and pulls at the collar of his heavy robes.

 

“Ah yes, this room is incredibly large, isn’t it?” he laughs with a few coughs mixed in between. “Many visitors find it difficult to navigate but do not fret my Lord. Follow me and I shall lead you out.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

They squirm through narrow pathways and shuffle past piles of books. Turns and corners Seulgi can hardly remember passing by--or did she even go this way in the first place, she wonders. Silence hangs between the two of them. But resting on the tip of her tongue is a question.

 

“If I may ask,” Seulgi starts, careful of her tone. Unsure of whether or not she would be overstepping her bounds, “why exactly is that room off-limits?”

 

The old man snorts and coughs. Readjusts his robes again and then arches his neck left, then right. Two loud cracks. Seulgi winces at the sound.

 

“It’s the Princess’ private study,” he answers.

 

And Seulgi blinks.

 

She had previously assumed it was a closed off section home to forbidden works or controversial material. The sort of dangerous or secretive pieces that only the Royal Family knew of. Something high risk. Something extraordinary like in the stories. Something of the sort, at least.

 

“Surprised, I assume?” the old man chuckles as they finally escape the maze and step out somewhere near what seems to be the back of the library. He briefly looks about, then slightly turns right, waves his hand, and beckons Seulgi to follow.

 

“Not too many know that Her Highness is quite fond of reading. That private study of hers is where she spends a lot of her time doing so. That and she hoards her favorite books in there too. She can be somewhat possessive, that one.”

 

Seulgi smiles at the warmth and sentiment so thickly laced in his voice.

 

“Sounds like you know the Princess very well.”

 

“Of course! I’m the one who taught that little lady how to read and write,” he bellows proudly and he seems to stand a little straighter. “What about you, my Lord? Judging from the fact you walked in here, I assume you have a liking for literature?”

 

“More of a curiosity than a liking,” Seulgi corrects. “Most of the stories I know I’ve learned from travelers and taverns. I’ve never really picked up a book and read its entirety for enjoyment. What is it that the Princess enjoys most?”

 

“Nearly everything. Fables. Poetry. History. Philosophy,” the old man takes a deep breath, winded from all the walking and talking. “Her Highness has a wide variety of interests.”

 

And then, finally they reach the two giant doors that marked the entrance. The old man sets his books down on a nearby table, almost toppling over but Seulgi gently catches him by the shoulder and steadies him in time. He gives a shaky nod in thanks.

 

“Well, here we are,” he huffs. The back of his hand wipes tiny beads of sweat from his forehead. “If you ever find yourself itching for a book during your stay, please come back again, my Lord.”

 

“Thank you,” Seulgi bows. “Perhaps I’ll ask the Princess for a recommendation and do just that.”

 

She spins on her heel to head out but his rough voice halts her once more.

 

“Wait, you’re one of her suitors, correct?” He poses the question, already knowing the answer. Though, his voice is different now. Smooth and quiet. Almost sounding worried. “Treat her well. I promise she’s not as cold as she seems. Just a little hard to please at times. Stubborn to a fault as well. But she’s got a good heart.”

 

Seulgi smiles.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

//

 

The day ends and they are all dismissed. Seulgi takes small strides, moving languidly as the suitors dart past her one by one until she is the very last to exit the castle doors. Orange and red paint the cobblestone path. She hides her hands in her pockets, taking her time as she sways left and right, bathing in the sun’s fleeing warmth.

 

Tomorrow would be the final day of private meetings with the Princess. And Seulgi assumes that it will be no different than the past three days.

 

They will all talk. They will all exaggerate. Full of hot air and astounding self-confidence, they will all say how well things went with the Princess. And they will think they are in her good graces.

 

But they will all be wrong.

 

Just as wrong as she was.

 

Seulgi stops and lifts her head to the sky, eyeing the clouds and then turning to look at the sun, when a rare sight catches her attention.

 

There, on the balcony outside of the ballroom, stands the Princess who seemed to be gazing somewhere far, far away with a stillness that could not be disturbed.

 

Seulgi’s brows furrow together.

 

“Seulong, tell me, why do you want to marry the Princess?”

 

Her brother slowly rises from his bed, staring at her in confusion as if she had just asked him the stupidest question.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I just want to know if I answered correctly for you. That’s all.”

 

Seulong sighs and undoes the bandana from his head, wringing it in his hands as he contemplated. He shrugs once. Twice. Bites his lip and sighs.

 

“She’s the Princess. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to marry her?”

 

Yes, perhaps that’s what they all think. After all, it’s reason enough. Though it’s a reason that’s evoked bitter laughter and Seulgi can hear it as clear as day in her ears. The letdown.

 

Irene Bae.

 

Beautiful is what she is. Graceful and elegant.

 

Royalty is what she is. A Princess.

 

But who she is, Seulgi barely knows.

 

Treat her well. I promise she’s not as cold as she seems. Just a little hard to please at times. Stubborn to a fault as well. But she’s got a good heart.

 

And as Seulgi leaves to go back to the inn, those fatherly words drift in her mind.

 

//

 

It’s the last day and Seulgi was wrong--something is different. There’s this feeling of disorder. An uproar begins and numerous voices shout, drowning each other out. A handful of men run to the guards stationed at the doors of the ballroom. The rest trail after to hear. The man at the very front, tall and lanky, asks a question.

 

“Are we allowed to leave the castle while the Princess finishes?”

 

The two guards exchange looks. Obviously, suspicious. Seulgi does her best to get closer, wanting to know exactly what the sudden commotion is about.

 

“No,” the taller armored man declares with no room for argument. “You--”

 

A hand, small and fair-skinned, hushes him as it pats his shoulder twice. The armor clanks from the gesture and from behind his gigantic form, a girl emerges. She’s a foot or so shorter, donning an emerald gown with her long onyx hair swept to the side, draped over her shoulder. And she manages to steal everyone’s breath away.

 

“Lady Joy?” the guard on the other side utters in surprise.

 

She smiles sweetly. The corners of her lips curling too tightly to be anything innocent.

 

“Let’s not be too hasty in saying no,” Joy winks and then turns to the lanky suitor. “Why is that you ask to leave the castle?”

 

“I wish to buy the Princess a gift. Something to show my gratitude--”

 

“I, as well!” Another man cuts in, waving frantically, making sure he is heard.

 

“Me too!”

 

“Aye!”

 

Soon, everything is lost to shouting and yelling. Indistinguishable voices blend together into a mass ruckus. Joy glances them over. She snaps her fingers and the two guards stomp twice, metal against marble, commanding silence and attention.

 

“A game of gifts!” Joy claps her hands together in glee. “I like it. I will tell the Princess myself. Come back by sundown and she will be waiting in the ballroom to receive them.” Then with her quick instruction and dismal, she exits the ballroom, singing two words. “Good luck!”

 

And suddenly everyone is running, breaking for the castle doors. Seulgi stumbles as she’s bounced back and forth, shoulders bumping her and turning her every which way. A hand grabs her by the arm, steadying her.

 

“You have to keep up, Seul!” Johnny shouts as he lets her go and then takes off.

 

--

 

A gift.

 

Seulgi runs through the main square. Beads of sweat start at her temple. Merchant booths, tents, and stores are scattered about, each one with a crowd of their own. She pushes her way through, scouts their wares but nothing. Not a single thing catches her eye.

 

A gift.

 

She recognizes a few suitors running back towards the castle. Things sparkle and glitter in their hands. Seulgi clicks her tongue and rolls up the sleeves of her tunic. The sun is getting lower. Time is almost up.

 

A gift.

 

Seulgi takes a moment to breathe. Hands on her hips as she realizes she’s one of the last suitors left in the square.

 

Just choose something,

 

Anything.

 

A necklace is easy enough. Even a ring or some rare exotic doll. But Seulgi can’t bring herself to do it. None of those will do--she knows.

 

Then, across the street, a quaint little shop catches her eye.

 

There.

 

--

 

Seulgi sprints into the ballroom just in time, tunic slightly out of sorts and hair disheveled. She blends into the crowd, quickly fixing herself as best as she can.

 

Near the back of the ballroom, in front of the balcony, Joy leads the Princess to sit on a lone chair. All is quiet and everyone is still, caught in anticipation. Seulgi catches her breath.

 

“What’s going on?” Princess Irene asks, her eyes scanning the crowd before they settle on Joy.
 

“A thoughtful little surprise,” Joy smiles, laying a gentle hand on the Princess’ shoulder. “Everyone wanted to express their gratitude somehow and bought gifts for you. Sweet, isn’t it?”

 

The Princess seems to glance their way for confirmation, noticing the different trinkets each suitor had. Seulgi also bounces on the heels of her feet, trying to get a better look at what those around her had bought.

 

And the Princess hums quietly to herself.

 

“Yes, it’s both unexpected and kind, but what for?”

 

What for? She poses the question, though Seulgi’s more than certain that Princess Irene already knows why. And perhaps, she’s already preparing herself for a number of things she couldn’t care less about. Not to say the Princess wouldn’t be thankful for the gesture but if Seulgi’s figured out the smallest thing about the her by now, it’s that shallow and pretty things hardly impress her. And this is nothing but a ruse to win her over.

 

“I assume to commemorate everyone’s first meeting with you as well as for a successful first week of the Moonlight Festival,” Joy explains and then turns to the suitors. “Is this correct?”

 

Without hesitation, everyone nods.

 

“I see,” the Princess mumbles to herself, indifferent.

 

Then, Joy claps her hands and her voice echoes, “Well, don’t just stand there! Who wants to go first?”

 

No introductions are made as none are needed. The Princess names every suitor that comes forth bearing a gift before they even have a chance to utter a word. Somehow, in the span of four days, she’s able to recognize each and every one of them and Seulgi can’t help but find herself somewhat in awe.

 

Meticulous and observant--two more things Seulgi’s learned about the Princess.

 

She accepts the gifts graciously. Rewarding them with a smile and kind words. And it’s nearly the same reaction every time except for the small few--for those who did not give pearls, bracelets, golden hairpins or the like. Seulgi recognizes some of those notable few. Lady Wendy Shon. Lord Yunho Jung. Johnny. The Princess gives them more, her face softens and there is genuine delight sparkling in her eyes. True appreciation is laced in her voice. And all the suitors mumble and groan, angry they’ve been out done.

 

Seulgi places a hand over her gift hidden in her tunic.

 

It’s now or never.

 

She just hopes she isn’t wrong.

 

One step forward. Two steps. Three. The whispers begin and Graceless Bear falls from the lips of many. Seulgi tunes them out. Her fingers slightly tremble so she clenches her first open and close. Five feet from the Princess, she stops to bend down on one knee and bows her head.

 

“Lord Kang,” the Princess says, devoid of any emotion, signalling her to rise.

 

Silence is cast over the ballroom and all eyes fall on Seulgi’s meager form. From the hidden pocket of her tunic, Seulgi retrieves her gift and holds it out with both hands.

 

“Princess, my gift to you.”

 

Joy takes it and a mysterious grin seems to play at her lips causing Seulgi’s insides to knot, increasing her doubt. But Seulgi swallows it back. She can’t be wrong. She isn’t wrong. Then, Joy turns around, walking ever so slowly, and lays the gift in the lap of the Princess.

 

“A journal?” the Princess arches a brow in a bit of astonishment. Her hands roam over the leather and then flip through the empty pages.

 

People gasp and snicker. Their eyes scrutinizing both Seulgi and the journal. For there is no question, her gift is the cheapest among them all. Graceless Bear. Graceless Bear. They chant it louder.

 

But the Princess pays them no heed. Instead, her gaze finds Seulgi’s, holding it fiercely.

 

“Why do you give me this when everyone else has given me something of much higher value?”

 

There is no anger or annoyance in her voice--not yet. Only curiosity like the last time. And if this is like the last time, then Seulgi knows not to make the same mistake.

 

She inhales.

 

Exhales.

 

Then firmly and resolutely, Seulgi says, “Because it suits you best.”

 

A commotion starts behind her.

 

“Did he just compare the princess to some cheap trinket?”

 

“Something you can just buy from some rundown bookstore?”

 

“It’s insulting, honestly.”

 

Yes, it’s the most appropriate reaction. And Seulgi would’ve thought the same once before. For Princess Irene is royalty. Someone of the highest class, deserving of only the utmost best. Anything less is an offense. Yet, the twinkle in the Princess’ eyes and the tiny curl at the edge of her lips contradict that thought.

 

And Seulgi knows, she isn’t wrong.

 

No, in fact, she’s just starting to figure her out.

 

“And what makes you say that?” Princess Irene presses further, unfazed by the comments of those around them.

 

Seulgi’s hands knot together behind her back.

 

“Because you appreciate books--stories, poetry, and history. And I’ve seen the faraway look in your eyes when you stare at the sky,” Seulgi explains, slowly and sincerely. Ensuring the Princess would not think her words hollow and practiced. “You strike me as a person of deep thoughts and wonder. And that means you have many things to write down.”

 

But as expected, the Princess proposes another question. A smirk evident on her face as her finger traces the spine of the leatherbound journal.

 

“And if I told you that I already had plenty of journals and papers in my study, would you take this gift back and exchange it for another?”

 

“No.”

 

The answer comes quick and easy to Seulgi. Firm and unwavering. Princess Irene narrows her eyes at the statement.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you’ll still need it,” Seulgi declares in full confidence. “One never stops thinking, daydreaming, or feeling. There will always be more to write. And so, you will need more paper. More journals.”

 

The Princess is of royalty. Her position deserves only the best--only what is worthy of her. And so far, they’ve all misunderstood what is worthy and what is not. She said it herself, that night in the garden--I am the one who decides who is worthy.

 

Worthy is not to impress her with status and possessions.

 

No.

 

Worthy is to look past that. Or at the very least, it is the first step.

 

The Princess doesn’t ask anymore questions and a hush seems to have fallen over the ballroom. Seulgi bows her head and grins, “Enjoy the gift, Princess. And I hope you write in it soon because a journal neglected is a lonely thing.”

 

And before she turns on her heel, she catches the smallest wisp of a smile on the Princess’ face.

 

Seulgi wasn’t wrong.

 

//

 

Joy treads closely behind the Princess. Happily twirling in the halls from the turn of events. What fun it had turned out to be.

 

“Fairly clever, that Lord Kang. I didn’t expect that he would give you something you actually liked,” Joy giggles, thinking back to how nervous the man had looked when she pried the journal from his hands. Oh, and the racket it caused among the others--truly amusing. “Graceless Bear,” she says aloud. The nickname is somewhat contradicting now. Joy nods to herself. “You’re right, he’s an odd one.”

 

“Yes,” Princess Irene mumbles, pondering as she stared at the journal in her hand. “Maybe he’s a bit too clever.”

 

Joy rolls her eyes at the incoming skepticism.

 

“Oh please, You love the gift, don’t you?”

 

“I do. What I’m not certain of is his character,” Irene pauses, stopping in the middle of the hall. “As I’ve said before, that man is odd. And you may not realize this, Joy, but these suitors, almost all of nobility in fact, are quite good actors--”

 

“Yes, yes. I know,” Joy sighs, already feeling the exhaustion from a speech the Princess has told her one too many times before. “So you bombarded him with questions for what?”

 

“To measure the extent of his performance. Push hard enough and they’ll start stuttering for lines which they have not yet rehearsed.”

 

So careful as always. Burnt by disappointment so many times. Joy knows she can hardly blame her.

 

“Well, he seemed to pass with flying colors.”

 

For a moment, all is quiet. The Princess looks to the window at the end of the hall, catching the last bit of sun as it sets.

 

“Yes, he seemed quite genuine,” Princess Irene finally admits with what is little more than a whisper.

 

Joy draws a sharp breath and clasps her hands together.

 

“Does that mean--”

 

“Keep a close eye on him,” the Princess simply states. “He’s one to watch out for.”

 

--

 

a/n: it’s been a LONG time. My apologies for being so slow lol though i’m sure you guys are used to hearing me say that by now. Well, this update is way past due. I actually wanted to get this out around January but I ended up starting a two-shot and then in February I updated Temporarily Yours then I was just busy with all kinds of stuff in March and April but even so, my bad for being so late! I really wanted to post this sooner. Anyway, now that it’s been updated, I hope you guys enjoyed it~ And I’m sorry for any mistakes I overlooked lol Many thanks to those who read and liked it, commented, and/or subscribed. And to those who read it but didn’t quite like it, that’s fine =] thank you very much for giving it a chance. Once again, thanks to everybody who dropped by. You guys are the best~ I’ll be working on my next update for Temporarily Yours next =]