My senses woke me up as soon as light filtered the before cloistered room, and I squirmed. I blinked to open my eyes that were already used to being closed and saw that one of the housemaids was opening the velvet curtains. I accidentally grunted rather than talk and she jumped in surprise.

She bowed as soon as she saw me, her whole body trembling in what seems to me was fear and apologized, “I’m sorry for waking you up, princess.”

Her accent wasn’t French, though it may have hints of it. It was more of Asian. I’m guessing she’s Japanese, and had served the royal family long enough to caught up a little of the accent. I coughed and outstretched my opened palm, shaking it. “No, it’s okay. I was just trying to greet you with a good morning but my throat went dry.”

She bowed again, and apologized as if waking me up was a sin. “I deeply apologize for my wrongdoing, madamemoiselle.” Then she straightened her body up, though she was still trembling and added, “If you want I could bring you and your fiance breakfast. What would you want?”

I gratefully declined the offer, mustering a soft smile on my sleepy face. “No, it’s fine. We’ll eat with my great grandmother.”

She excused herself and went out hastily, almost scrambling off.

I sat up, the comforter rode down to my thighs while Jiyong’s side rode up to his, uh somehow, very thin midriff and then, I looked at his sleeping face.

I frowned. It wasn’t Jiyong who was beside me. It was a girl who I didn’t know. She wasn’t wearing Jiyong’s clothes, thank god but instead, wore a maid’s uniform.

She scrambled up from the bed hastily, almost tripping herself with the comforter and bowed to me. “I’m very sorry, princess. Your fiance ordered me to this and I am not allowed to say no to the masters’ orders. Please forgive me.”

I was clueless than ever. Why would Jiyong order her to do this? Why the heck would he order her to replace him in sleeping beside me?

I gathered up my thoughts quickly and asked, “Where’s Ji?”

She bit her lip, closed her eyes and sighed before answering, “He was the maid before.”

“What?” I asked again, definitely clueless.

The door opened and the maid before, the one who pulled the curtains aside, entered. She laughed, giving off a comepltely different attitude than the one she showed before and spoke, “Good morning, princess.”

But it wasn’t her voice from before. It was low, loud and much more male. It was like…Jiyong’s voice.

I narrowed my eyes and he laughed heartily.

I stood up from the bed and started walking towards him. He opened his arms up and said, “Okay I know you were scared because you didn’t see me as soon as you wake up, Come on, give me a hug.”

I was now near. He continued to talk. “I will never leave you, right? You must be scared. Come on, hug me.”

I stopped in front of him, and before he scooped me into a hug, my fist met his face.

The maid behind me squeled as we both stare, though hers was horrified while mine was loathing, at the lifeless form called Jiyong.

I planned on finding and talking with my father first before I go down for breakfast, but when I successfully saw a glimpse of him shuffling into his formal clothes, Jiyong dragged me towards the kitchen. I thought it was for breakfast, but I was flabbergasted to see that kitchen in the maids’ headquarters was turned into a complete fitting area. In the doorway, all of the maids formed two lines, forming what seems to be a runway in the middle. After three seconds, they bowed in unison.

Then Jiyong pushed me towards them. They grabbed me hastily and started pulling all of my clothes, their actions sychronized, until I was almost except for my underwear. Someone wrapped a vest around my torso, making my already flat chest flatter. Someone lifted me up as someone pulled a pair of black pants in my legs and put my feet into a pair of shoes, and then I was brought down again so someone could dress the upepr part of my body. Then I felt my hair being tied, wrapped in what seems to be a hairnet, and being wrapped again in a wig.

After a few minutes, the maids took a step back, took a great look at me from head to toe and giggled. I was even more dumbfounded.

Someone from the maids signaled me to turn around, moving her index finger into a circular motion, and I obliged, turning around.

From the mirror, I saw a very different reflection of myself. I was wearing very prince-like clothes, with cufflinks, badges, tailcoats and everything. The wig I wore was blonde, anime-like with the bangs styled to only one side. I blinked twice.

Suddenly, I my arm was seized and I was shocked to see I was looking down at Jiyong. He blinked. “Oppa, let’s go!”

Jiyong was skipping ahead of me, his skirt bouncing up and down as I stare at the activities he listed for today. It now occurred to me that he planned a Kaichou Wa Maid-sama cosplaying today, and he listed activities about the anime that includes: Studying (?), Sports Festival, Fright Night and a Cultural Festival. I’ve continuously told Jiyong that he’s out of the character, but he still insists on acting cute.

He stopped in front of a huge double oak door, and unlocked it. I followed him inside.

It was a mini library. Book schelves were located around the long desk at the middle of the room, which was facing a wall with the screen the projector is projecting.

“Sit down, Oppa.” Jiyong ordered, smiling sweetly at me. I eyed him curiously and looked around the library suspiciously before settling down on the swiveling chair facing the screen. He snapped his fingers and the screen turned into a PowerPoint presentation. The subject for today was Monarchy.

I arched a brow. “This thing with me being a princess, it’s something not to be serious of.”

He chuckled. “Come on, Dara. You’re a princess by blood. You’re going to inherit the throne. Do you expect that once you walk in here, you’re going to go home as easy as that?”

His face now changed. He wasn’t acting adorable now. He kind of reminded me when we were fighting over the fieldtrip, when I told him I’m not going because I didn’t have the money to. I almost stammered when I asked, “What are you trying to imply now?”

Jiyong’s face completey changed into his former adorable one and as he tilts his head to the side with a sweet smile on his face, he replied, “I’m sorry about that. The subject will now start, Oppa.”

My fear didn’t subside, however.

He started with the lesson about rules in Monarchy and one of it was that princesses must marry someone of royalty. Jiyong showed a screenshot of the rule, and examples of princesses who married princes.

“Why would they do that?” I asked. “What if the princess doesn’t love the prince she’s going to marry?”

Jiyong smiled fondly at me. “Simple,” He started. “The marriage should still take place. No such thing as love exists in this place.”

I tilted my head to the side, shocked and doubtful.

In Jiyong’s version of a Sports Festival, we can only do a tennis match since only a tennis court exists in the palace grounds. Before, they said, they wanted to place a football field but the royal family members were too few to have a football match. My great grandmother Yunji already asked the royal couple about us using the court and they agreed almost instantly. The maids told me no one in the royal family ever stepped in the court to use it. They preferred golf more.

Jiyong didn’t change his costume, and neither do I. We were the captains of the opposing teams, and both of our teams were composed of seven members including us. For the first doubles, Jiyong’s team got the point while we got the point for the second doubles. For the third singles, our team got the point while Jiyong’s team got the point for the second singles. For the third singles, it was Jiyong versus me and now, we were down to the match point.

My costume was too heavy for me, and now that I’m playing and sweating, the costume seemed heavier. On the other hand, Jiyong was having it easy. He wasn’t even sweating that much.

When he successfully returned my shot, I stopped pivoting, raised my hands and shouted, “Okay, you win! I don’t want to play anymore!”

The ball hit the inside and Jiyong ran up to me to lift me up. “I won, Oppa!” He repetitively shouted, and I only smile down at him.

He was too adorable, I admit, too adorable that I subconsciously press my forehead to his in an instant. Jiyong whispered, “I won, Dara.” then kissed me hastily on the lips.

Everyone swooned; Great grandmother Yunji shouted angrily.

It was a rainy evening. We all got numbers for the Fright Night, and I didn’t have a partner unlike the others that’s why I walked alone while holding a huge umbrella in the ‘forest’. It wasn’t actually a forest, because the trees were cutouts from cardboards and it wasn’t spooky either. It never aroused fear inside of me.

I stopped and watched as a white lady crossed in front of me. She stopped in the middle, turned to me to show her pale, bloody face and then continued walking.

On the other hand, I continued on my track.

As I trod on the path, I came across a body lying deathlessly on the muddy ground. I walked closer to take a good look, and my eyes widened in fear when I saw who the person was.

Cold sweat trickled down my nape as I watch the lifeless body of Jiyong. I took it first as a joke, and called him by his name but he didn’t respond, no matter how many threatening phrases I say. I kneeled down beside him, my umbrella falling down a meter from my spot and checked for his impulse and I almost smiled when I found a faint one. But he was not breathing, and I watched with great fear at his fallen chest.

Tears strolled down my eyes, and I called out to him again, “Ji, come on. Don’t die.”

But he didn’t respond.

I covered my eyes with both of my hands as I cried when suddenly, I felt a cold grip on my wrist. I jerked back, and saw Jiyong sitting up. Now, both shock and fear appeared on my face.

“Ghost! You’re—oh my god—a ghost!” I shouted on the top of my lungs as pale Jiyong tried pulling my arm. He was too strong, even for a ghost, and won over the control of my hand.

“Calm down, Dara. I’m alive! See?” He placed my hand on his chest, and I felt the familiar beat of his heart against his chest. I relaxed a little and he assured once again, “I’m alive.”

“You jerk.” I sputtered, and he pulled me into a strong embrace.

I felt him smile behind me, the contours of his face moving against my back but I didn’t. I just continued to cry.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, kissing my ear as the rain poured down over us.

Both Jiyong and I now wore our casual clothes. We didn’t attend his preparation for the cultural festival because great grandmother Yunji was furious about Jiyong’s joke and ordered us to dry up in our room. We watched as the maids circled the bonfire, singing a song in unison. From our spot, I could faintly hear K. Will’s Day 1.

Jiyong was drying his hair with a towel, standing in front of me as I sat on top of the windowsill. He smiled down at me, not his former Lolita smile, but his usual carefree and gummy smile. I subconsiously smiled back.

He removed the towel from his hair and reached up to dry my hair. “You tired?” Jiyong asked, still smiling sweetly at me.

“Not at all.” I lied, smiling back.

“The day of the results is tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Nervous?”

I bit my lip. “Maybe?”

“Doesn’t sound so convincing.”

“Yes, I am nervous.”

He kissed me again on the lips and it lasted…for three seconds. When our lips parted, he smiled again at me and said, “I love you.”

I smiled, kissed his chin and I laughed when it tickled me. With I whisper, I said, “I love you too.”

Jiyong and ate breakfast the other day with the royal family, and the only adjective I could use to describe their breakfast was: foreign. The only food that I ate all throughout the breakfast was hashbrown and spaghetti. Other than that, I never touched anything, completely opposite of Jiyong and the royal family. They seemed to know everything that’s on the table.

“This fromage is very delicious, sir.” Jiyong complimented. “And this bread, it accentuates the jam mixed in with it.”

And when my grandfather asked me if I thought the same of the ‘fromage’, I only answered, “Yeah, it was fine.”

After my comment, they returned into complimenting the food.

After breakfast, which I didn’t enjoy at all, the royal family and I went in my father’s study room to open the envelope that contains the results, which arrived shortly after breakfast. Jiyong chose to wait at the room beside since he insisted that he’s not a part of the family.

“You sure, lad?” My father asked, worried and Jiyong assured him by nodding his head.

We all entered the study room. Father sat on his chair, my grandparents sat on the two chairs at either side of the study, and I chose to sit on the floor. They were worried at first, but I assured them with my smile. My fingers tap nervously on the floor, unable to relax with the tension.

My father carefully opens the sealed envelope with his letter opener, slowly working his way into taking the stick of the seal off and my grandmother sarcastically commented, “So skillful, my son.”

The envelope was opened, and my father pulled out the white paper containing the results from inside. He unfolded it and silently read the contents with his eyes the only ones moving. After a few seconds, he folded the paper again and handed it over to my grandfather. He did the same—unfolded the paper and silently read the contents—before he gave the folded paper to my grandmother. She only took a peek from the bottom part, her doe eyes twinkling as she blinks.

Then her next action took me aback. My grandmother smiled at me as if she’s attending my funeral and she’s peering down at me as I lay in my casket. A shiver ran down my spine.

I shook the negative thoughts off, and took the meaning of the smile as a hallucination of mine. My grandfather and father stood up from their cushioned seats and smiled at me, their smiles almost making me blind.

“Welcome to the family, Sandara.”

I stood up from my seat and looked down as my grandmother handed the paper to me. Hastily yet deliberately, I opened the results and a number 99.99% typed in bold greeted my eyes.

“Sandara—“ My grandfather tried to say but I didn’t hear the rest of it because I had already dashed outside to see Jiyong. My legs moved on own.

“Ji! Ji!” I cried out as I run along the corridor and when I arrived in front of the room beside the study, I hastily opened the door. My lips dropped. The room was empty.

I quickly dashed towards outside again and ran along the corridor, crying out his name. “Ji! Where are you, Ji? Ji!”

I oversaw a pair of housemaids walking their way in the opposite direction and I shouted over to them, “Did both of you saw Ji?”

One of them hesitated at first but shouted back, “I saw him outside—“

I didn’t let her finish her sentence and quickly turned my heels towards the stairs. I ran down hastily, taking two steps at a time and when I reached the landing, my great grandmother Yunji was the first one I saw.

She tried to stop me. “Sandara, you better not—“

But I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence because I didn’t want to and because I am chasing Jiyong down. A pair of housemaids opened the double oak doors hastily as they could to let me step outside without hassle and I successfully reached the outside. My eyes cringed. It was raining.

Then I stopped almost hastily, too hastily that I almost fell face flat on the wet ground. The iron gates were opened, and halfway to the other side was Jiyong with his luggage.

He smiled at me, the sweet smile he always give me and shouted, “I love you! Don’t forget okay?”

I shouted back, “Where are you going?”

Jiyong smiled and replied, “Somewhere. Still thinking of you.”

My tears rushed down my cheeks. “Why? I’ll go with you. I’ll always go wherever you’ll go.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll always be the one I’ll love.”

I choked. “Did my father talk you down with this?”

He smiled and didn’t answer my question. “I love you!”

Then he crossed the other side and the gates closed after him. With senses kicking in, I ran towards him and he waited—he patiently waited. When I reached the gates, I stopped quickly to avoid colliding with the iron bars and whispered, “Why?”

Jiyong shook his head, ing his hand inside and caressed my cheek. “Why, indeed.”

I leaned in. He leaned in. Our lips touched with every intimacy we feel for each other but it only lasted for a few seconds, too hasty yet passionate. Jiyong smiled and whispered, “I lvoe you.”

I was hesitant but I can’t open the gates. I knew my father was behind all of this, and even if I plead, they won’t open the gates.

I closed my eyes, kissed him back on the lips and whispered, “I love you too.”

His touch was gone immediately and slowly, I opened my eyes. Jiyong was gone and only then I realized,

The perfect boyfriend doesn’t exist.