As October passed by, Chaeyoung’s worry started to grow. She was nearing the end of the first trimester when the dreams started. First it was vague flickers that nagged at the back of her mind when she woke, unable to put her finger on what it was she had dreamt about, but as weeks passed by, they took the forms of bombs, guns and cars careening off the road. It was with silent panic that she started fretting over their unborn children and their lives. Joohyun never knew a word about it, sleeping soundly beside Chaeyoung, even when her wife slipped out of bed in the middle of the night to splash some cold water on her face and calm herself down after another nightmare. Chaeyoung didn’t want her to know either. Instead, she tried her best to keep her composure, brushing aside Joohyun’s concerns for her and focusing on other things.

One of their main topics of conversation was Hasun, with Joohyun intent on distrusting Chaeyoung’s aunt, despite Chaeyoung’s best efforts to change her mind. More than once, they’d ended up arguing over it, neither of them willing to admit the other was right in some respect, leaving them with heavy silence and their pride as they avoided each other in various areas of the palace. Most of the time, Chaeyoung was busy with meetings anyway, and was always too worn out by the end of the day to even bother arguing with her.

She found herself more drained than usual, and sore all over, her temper uncharacteristically flaring up more often, which didn’t fit well with Joohyun’s snark and endless sarcasm, and Chaeyoung was looking forward to her morning sickness abating. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere for the time being though, making her even more cranky as she had to duck out of meetings and excuse herself from dinners. The worst part was that there were still only a few people who knew, so she could hardly use it as an excuse to weasel her way out of things she didn’t want to do, which left her even more irritable when she was stuffed into fitted dresses and skirts to visit hospitals and orphanages, or attend charity galas. Joohyun refused to attend any.

In fact, the only good change during the end of her first trimester was her increased libido, which she’d been expecting, but was still surprising to say the least. Joohyun was only a couple of weeks behind her, with her limited pregnancy symptoms making Chaeyoung feel a little offended, but her heightened hormones made her equally as happy to indulge Chaeyoung in as much as they could squeeze in around days filled with meetings, and exhausted nights after their sullen silences all day. Still, as good of a mood as it put her in, Chaeyoung still found herself worrying, more so as the weeks slipped by.

---

She looked around at the marble floor, taking in the patent leather Mary Jane shoes she was wearing, just like the pair she'd owned when she was younger, with the feeling of unease hanging heavily in the air as she let her eyes wander. There was a family portrait on the wall, that had hung there since she’d been born. It was familiar, with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes of the woman, the softer features of the fair haired man, and the white frilly dress of the newborn baby cradled in the woman’s arms.

She felt scared as she stood in the middle of two columns of guards, their ominous march echoing in the long hallway, and she felt like a child as she followed them along in silence. Stopping in front of a towering pair of doors, they parted beneath her touch, revealing a spacious sitting room. It was comfortably furnished, the way she remembered it, with stuffed settees and the large fireplace with orange light spilling out of it from the crackling flames. The place had smelled like leather and flowers. It was all so familiar to her - it was her home - and the woman sitting in a wingback armchair, legs neatly folded and crossed at the ankles, was just as familiar. A wave of relief washed over her.

“Mom?” Chaeyoung asked, taking a hesitant step forward, her voice sounding young and innocent to her own ears.

And then the dark haired woman turned, and Chaeyoung saw a streak of white in her hair and realised that it wasn’t her mother, it was her Aunt Hasun. Aside from that one streak, they were identical, and Chaeyoung paused for a moment, the troubled feeling welling up inside her again. Where were her parents?

“Chaeyoung,” Hasun sighed, a sad look on her face. “I’m sorry.”

Realisation dawned on her, and Chaeyoung opened and closed , feeling herself shaking with sobs. Turning around, she ran out of the room, but instead of finding herself in the hallway, she was running down the front steps of Sunstone Palace, skittering to a stop at the bottom as she looked at the figures all lined up in the middle of the courtyard. Her grandfather was there, tall and regal, as well as her aunt and uncle, her cousin, and Kim Sandara. She opened to let out a cry of relief, taking a step forward, but then pain blossomed in her heart, and she stared down with wide eyes at the vivid red stain spreading across the front of her white shirt. Finding herself speechless with shock, she looked up again, looking at her family with fear in her eyes. Her grandfather took off the small golden crown he was wearing and held it out to her. Numbly shaking her head, Chaeyoung stayed rooted to the spot, her hands clasped over her heart as blood ran over her hands, soaking through her clothes and dripping down onto the floor.

“Chaeyoung?” a voice asked from behind her, and Chaeyoung whirled around, choking on her fear as she took in the sight of Joohyun standing on the front steps of the palace, two little blond girls in her arms and a loving smile on her face. “Aren’t you going to pick?”

She looked back at the crown her grandfather was holding out to her, and then back at her wife - at her family - and took a step up the staircase, watching a wide smile spread over Joohyun’s face. That single step triggered a loud ticking noise, and Chaeyoung whirled back around, just in time to see a blast radiate from behind her family, obliterating them all in the force of the bomb exploding. She let out a small sound of surprise, watching as the golden crown, unharmed by the explosion, clattered to the ground with a dull, ringing sound, skittering to a stop near her feet. Knowing that it was left for her, Chaeyoung stepped towards it and scooped down to pick it up, clutching it tightly in her hands.

A soft gasp of surprise came from behind her, and Chaeyoung whirled back around to watch as Joohyun fell to her knees, a red stain blossoming on the front of her shirt, the little girls gone, and her wife looking ashen as she stared at Chaeyoung with accusing eyes. Letting out a hoarse shout, Chaeyoung ran up the steps, almost tripping over her feet in her haste, trying her best to reach Joohyun. It felt like there were a thousand steps, and each one she took, another appeared. But then she was there, reaching out with a bloody hand, while Joohyun reached out for her, their fingertips stretching, aching to reach each other.

---

With a start, Chaeyoung bolted upright in bed, her chest heaving as she breathlessly gasped for air, feeling her heat pounding in her chest. Reality came flooding back to her as she became aware of the fact that she was in her bed, in her room, with Joohyun sleeping beside her. She couldn’t see much through her blurry vision and the darkness of the room, but she could hear the soft rhythm of Joohyun’s even breathing, and Chaeyoung reached out to gently touch her, feeling her stir beneath her touch. Choking on a breathless sob, she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to shake the memory of the dream from her mind.

And arm was thrown across her waist, and Chaeyoung jumped slightly, jostling the bed. Looking down at Joohyun, she watched her stir slightly, cuddling up against her, and Chaeyoung swallowed the lump in as she reached out to tenderly her hair out of her face. With a sharp inhale, Joohyun raised her head slightly, and Chaeyoung realised that she was awake.

“Chaeyoung? What’re you doing?” she mumbled, sounding annoyed and still half asleep.

“I- nothing,” Chaeyoung murmured, slipping out from underneath Joohyun’s arm and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, “go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.”

“Oh.”

She was asleep again a moment later, snuggled up beneath the blankets, her dark hair in contrast to the pillow as Chaeyoung cast her a lingering look. Reaching her a silk robe draped over an armchair, she shoved her feet into her slippers and grabbed her phone. It was five o’clock in the morning, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep right then and decided to take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t rest - she’d been troubled by these dreams for weeks now, and they were only getting worse, making her fret over their safety - so she snuck out of the bedroom, quietly tiptoeing past Aoife asleep in her basket, and settled down on a sofa.

Within minutes, she’d phoned her head of security and made arrangements to tighten security around the palace, as well as herself. It made her feel a little more relieved, although she wasn’t sure how long that would hold. Especially when Joohyun found out. Chaeyoung had grown up with her parents’ bodyguards, and then Lisa as her own when she was older, and becoming queen, with dozens of guards watching her every movement of lining the streets for big events, had been a big adjustment that had left her feeling smothered and like her privacy had been violated. Every room they entered had a bodyguard posted outside, and when they left the palace, there were six other guards accompanying them, not as closely as Goeun or Seungyoon, but there nonetheless. It had taking some getting used to, and neither of them liked it, and Chaeyoung knew Joohyun wouldn’t like this either, but she told herself it was necessary.

Passing the time by sketching the shadowy features of the room in the lamplight, the empty fireplace filled with cold ashes, the books that they’d been reading the night before strewn across the coffee table, along with fine teacups with the cold dregs of tea in them. She drew it all, and then she drew Joohyun, holding the image of her in her mind, sketching the slight swell of her soft stomach, and the tiny scar beneath her eyebrow, her shallow dimples and ever smirking lips. That was how Yerim found her a couple of hours later, quietly letting herself into the suite, on her way to politely wake the young royals up, when she spotted Chaeyoung sitting on the sofa.

“Leave her to sleep,” Chaeyoung murmured, giving Yerim a small smile, “we’ll take breakfast later today, please.”

Dipping into a curtsy, Yerim nodded, “of course, ma’am.”

She retreated from their quarters, leaving Chaeyoung alone again, her thoughts still troubling her, and she took to going over Joohyun’s birthday party plans to pass the time. It was a week away, and she’d been planning a masquerade ball for her, following through on her suggestion that they put the ballroom to more use. Joohyun had been happy to let her plan it, and even help