Needless to say...

His Majesty Lu Han, in all his humble honesty, had never been so provoked in his life. His lips curled delicately into a smug smirk, irises musing amusedly into humor-filled crescents. "Over your dead body?" he echoed, a lace of incredulity biting down onto his words. His lips released a contemptuous scoff, a disdainful look waltzing onto his features as a black veil of anger masked his entire being. "You've got quite the ego, haven't you?" he inquired sarcastically, giving a roll of his doe-like eyes.

Byul's shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, her hand sweeping through the wisps of her golden hair. The near-white locks of her fringe fell back onto her forehead with a light plop as she strode forward, interlocked her hand over the hilt of the sword, fingers barely grazing Lu Han's. He scowled, feeling an electric jolt surge throughout his tall frame; his grimace deepened however, feeling her gentle fingers yank his grasp away from the handle. "An ego is something you have to get used to, if it's a problem for you, Lu Han-shii," Byul whispered tauntingly, cocking her head to the side.

Lu Han glared ferociously, locking his jaw as his fists clenched together at his sides, knuckles morphing into a deadly white. He took the opportunity to observe her as he felt themselves fall amidst a staring contest. Her snow-white blonde hair trickled just above her chin, framing her delicate, heart-shaped face neatly; there was red make-up at her eyes, curling outwords eleborately to accentuate the onyx of her pupils; her jaw was defined -- scuplted to near perfection, as was her manificently arched nose.

He felt something within him arise. But at this point, all he could do was watch.. or in this case, glare. "Pull the sword then," Byul announced, drawing Lu Han back to the harsh reality. Moans surrounded the hostile air as the waves of revolt had finally passed with the rain clouds above. The sun pertruded from the grey clouds brilliantly, casting a glow on the royal pair with indignant glory and radiance. Lu Han peeked up at Byul from behind his short lashes, snatching her hand away from the sword, and replacing it with his own.

It didn't budge, so harder he tried.

She laughed, then, at the countless attempts. "You're a foolish person, to actually believe you'd be the the Chosen One," she whispered. Harsh mockery defined her meaning, ringing vibrantly in her words. "A weak, young monarch like you as king of the world? Don't humor me," she snorted, earning herself yet another glare -- one of countless she's received today. She gestured towards the onslaught behind her, a bitter smirk twitching at the corner of her lips. "Human are foolish, in general, so don't feel bad. We travel to a foreign land for months and months, only to have our men injured. But why is it worthy, as we declare? Because it's in search of power. We look for power and glory, and because of that, no matter what kinds of catastrophes we face, or what casualties we suffer, it's always worth it... because in the end, we'll attain at least some bits of glory or power."

"Human beings are selfish, deceiving creatures, aren't they?" she continued.

"If you think that way, you wouldn't be here; so why are you?" Lu Han demanded.

He didn't know what he was doing.
She didn't know either.
One or the other could have slaughtered the opposite party by now, but they haven't.

Why not?

They were absolutely enticed.. utterly captivated by the other.

Her answer was simple, however, and it drew Lu Han into her all the more:

"Not for me.. but for my late father."

The sword was left neglected in the courtyard. Several attempts were made by Lu Han after Byul's countless tries. Neither of them were able to pull the sword, but in truth, it was to be expected. No heaven or God would desire a newly experienced monarch to rule the world, so why would it be them? They have experienced adventure. Was that enough? To their men and vassals, most definitely, but the young monarchs were not satisfied with the hunger that remained unsatiable in their stomachs.

What it was yearning for, they still were not able to determine that, but they were longing for something in all earnesty, and it was going to take more than just some Holy blade to satisfy it. Byul, later that night, mounted her charger, pulling herself away with her horse to a nearby meadow. The London air was sickly stale, still matted with the scent of blood and murder; the night was darker than usual, and the moon hidden behind a mass tangle of ugly grey clouds. Behind her was a small creek surrounded by serene meadows; the euphonious croaks of odd toads and twinkles of late night crickets sang around her, lulling her to a dreamy state of mind.

She unmounted herself from her new steed, brushing its unfamiliar hair with her hand before sending it off to fetch water for itself from the strewing creek. The rustling of the water was tranquil, but what caught her attention, was rather the bustling of the bushes and thorns coming from ahead of her. About ten to twenty meters ahead of her, there was a brush of forest, barren and hazy in color as well as vacancy. She glanced up with her alert eyes, pulling on her cloak hood to mask her golden hair.

The voice that called to her, though, made her push it back down; and a sudden churn of her stomach emerged.

"You can't hide when I've already spotted you, Queen."

Lu Han of the Chinese Province.

"Tell me, Queen, what brings you out in the open so late into the violet night?" He's picking berries at a nearby bush, feeding them tenderly to his chestnut-coloured horse. He eyes her. She's avoiding his gaze and is rather looking through him rather than back at him; her irises lay upon the fallen oak behind him, unmoving as she continues to parry his inquiries. "So your late father.. it was his dream then to venture to come see the blade?" He received a curt nod in return, before she turned around to tend to her horse.

"Weak," Lu Han muttered breathlessly, a hoarse chuckle escaping past his pale lips.
"Pardon you?" Byul, by now, was whipped around, an indignant flare arising behind her contemptuous stare. "Weak? And to whom are you addressing, now?"
"You.. you and your father, both, actually," Lu Han retorted wittily, a cocky smile lining his supple features. "You, for obliging to your late father's requests without any rebellion enforced; you didn't even want it, yet you forced yourself into doing it for the sake of your late father? Weak: in self-control and self-respect. And your father, whom was so blinded by power, that even falling into fatal sickness, he makes his daughter promise to venture out to London for him? Weak in respect for his daughter and in selflessness. Foolish monarchs like you don't deserve your titles," Lu Han spat, glaring at Byul.

She scoffed at Lu Han's disparaging comments, her pupils blazing with outraged fury. "Says you, who was so confident that the sword would be his! You fall submissive to your lustrous desire for authority! You crave attention, and you're so weak that you have to practically beg for it --"
"I don't need to beg for anything, woman," Lu Han interjected vehemently, a superior tone streaming through his heavy words. "I'm not like you; as a king, I don't need to ask for anything. I don't have anything to fall submissive into. Men are born with authority, so it's only natural for them to crave it even more with this 'lustrous' notion you suggest," Lu Han argued. "Women like you don't belong out in the fields. Just go back home, and work on seaming your pretty princess gowns together and occupy yourself with balls and waltzes, rather than onslaught and murder!"

"So it's going to be like that?" Byul seethed. "Did you come out to find me just to look down upon the female population? Is that it? You view me as inferior? As superior you may think, you're just a bastardly coward that can't even --"

Before she could utter another condescending lecture, the wind was knocked out of her as she felt her back scrape up against the bark of a tree; she was pinned, with Lu Han's hands curled tightly around her biceps, his weight holding her down against the oak. He glared down at her earnestly, flickering back and forth from her eyes to her quivering lips. Fear. It was obviously detected in her wandering orbs. The rapid trembling of her lips quickened as she felt his grip on her tighten. "Is this how you want to feel for the rest of your life? Endangered by powerful men who can easily overpower you and conquer you?" Lu Han breathed sincerely. "Don't take my words to heart, misinterpreting them so rashly like that. Take my words to heart, having understood my intention. When my father passed, I was in charge of taking care of my mother. She was so heartbroken and in so much grief, she neglected her health. Consequently as a result, she's now bedridden, and paling sick with some kind of plague that even the best doctor in our province cannot treat. Women are fragile, delicate creatures. Because of that, they don't belong in a world of bloodshed and vehement violence, but instead should be taken care of by those who can protect them --"
"I can protect myself!" Byul objected, violently yanking herself out of his grasp.

His soft, warm touch lingered on her shoulders, causing a shudder to pass through her. Lu Han looked at her, a different glow resonating through his eyes. There was worry, pity -- a hint of contempt, as well. "You're going to get yourself killed if you continued this," he warned her in a promising tone. He watched her retreat to her horse, remantling the saddle back together before mounting the beast. She glared down at him, grimacing at the butterflies throwing up inside of her. 

"Tell me, Lu Han-shii," she whispered contemptuously. "We're obviously educated people. Expertised in foreign languages, business matters, and law. We're schooled in fine hostels of education and harbored the most advanced academics."
"Your point?" the other chorused dubiously.
"If you really were as smart as any monarch would be," Byul continued vaguely, "you would know better than to threaten a queen so rashly."

She galloped to him, halting at his side. He shot her a sideways glance, before raising a brow.

At her words, then, he smirked, not even bothering to turn to watch her retreat back to the comfort of her inn.

"We'll meet again, Lu Han-shii.."

"We most definitely will, Byul Xiaojie."

..you mesmerize me.