The long thin arms of the willow branches tickle the pond’s surface, creating tiny veins in the otherwise still water. Strained sunshine illuminates the lilies’ petals, intensifying their color. I half sigh to myself, wishing I had the means to better capture the scene instead of being confined to the black and white of ground ink and paper. Beside me, Minho, Jonghyun, and Taemin are similarly engaged while Kibum lies on a blanket under the tree, dead asleep.
“Noona, isn’t mine good?” Taemin happily holds out his paper, but it’s snatched away by Jonghyun, who instantly doubles over in laughter.
“It’s a frog prince,” he cackles, waving the drawing around.
“No, it’s Minho!” Taemin retorts, trying to get the paper back.
Minho grabs it and examines it. “My eyes aren’t that big!”
“You do too!” Jonghyun laughs, widening his own eyes. “They’re big and round and shiny.”
“Are not!”
“Are too!”
“Noona, where’re you going?” Taemin asks, stopping his laughter long enough to sit up as I stand.
“Away from you noisies so I can concentrate,” I tease, carefully keeping my inkwell away from my clothes and grabbing more paper from the pile. At Minho’s frown, I roll my eyes and point towards the nearby bend in the garden path. “I’m just going over there. I highly doubt anyone’s going to kill me when you’re within shouting distance and yes, I’m fine without company.”

    Hiding my smile at the puppy like look on Jonghyun and Taemin’s faces, which I’m learning they try to use to its fullest potential as often as possible, I stroll through the grass and leave them behind. Once I round the bend, I find a waist-high rock to lean against and set to work again, trying to depict the rustling, bubbling swirl of water amongst the rock as it moves downstream. The concentration required for observing quickly numbs me to all else, the water and my paper quickly becoming the only things in existence.
“An interesting style.”
              My hand’s movements stops as I look up at the woman who suddenly appeared at my shoulder.Her thick, sleek ebony hair held back at the base of her neck by a net scattered with small drops of peach colored stones. Plump lips smile as her shining eyes continue taking in my work, one hand carefully keeping the spring bud colored, silken sleeve of her silver embroidered robe out of the still wet ink. When her gaze finally strays back to my face, her smile widens.
“Do not worry, little deer,” she chuckles, patting my cheek and sitting beside me, her skirts fluttering out. “I mean you no harm and I’m sorry for startling you. I’m always in awe of people who can freeze a second in time forever.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I look down at my paper. “It’s not very good; I’m still getting use to this brush.”
“Nonetheless, your show the freedom of the water,” she says, her fingers tracing the air above the ink. Glancing at me, she adds, “Perhaps it is because your own heart yearns to be free?”
My head jerks back up. “What do you mean?”
The woman chuckles again. “You and I are not so different. When I first came here, it was not by my will either.”
“You know who I am?”
She nods. “Most of the palace does. Your arrival caused quite the stir.”
“So I’ve gathered,” I reply with a light snort. Remembering Kibum’s warning, I add, “My friends are just around the bend.”
“I know, my dear. I have no wish to harm you, but your willingness to trust strangers is understandably diminished, no?”
“You’ve got that right.... What did you mean by ‘when you first came here’? If you didn’t want to be here, why’d you stay? Or did you just give up?”
“You certainly are inquisitive, aren’t you?”
Readjusting my legs to be more comfortable, I shrug. “Persistence seems to be the only way to get answers around here.”
“Very true,” she laughs. “Well, in a way, I did give up, but not for reasons you would expect. I tried every day in every manner I could think of at first because I had been happy before. I was the daughter of a mountain spirit guardian, content to play amongst the trees and fields of my father’s home for eternity, but it was not to be. A son of the last dragon king saw me on his travels and fell in love with me, asking his father to arrange our marriage. Despite my pleas, my father readily agreed to the match and in no time at all I found myself confined to this palace at the bottom of the sea.”
“What a spoiled brat,” I comment, shaking my head.
The woman just smiles, nodding. “So I thought too. I refused to see him and sent back the elaborate presents he tried to win me with. Depressed with my continuous failures to escape, I eventually stopped eating and fell ill. I expected to be abandoned like an old toy, but the prince nursed me back to health personally, never leaving my side. Even though I still wouldn’t speak to him, he would bring me mountain flowers and read and talk to me for hours, eventually succeeding in breaking my silence.
    We slowly became friends, spending more and more time with each other even after I was well. One day, he finally apologized for being the cause of my unhappiness and offered me what I had missed most: my freedom. To return to my home, for he couldn’t stand to see the longing in my eyes when I talked of it.”
“But you didn’t take it. Why?” I ask, utterly bewildered.
“Because, when presented the chance, I found it was no longer what I desired with all my heart. Simply put, I had fallen in love,” she smiles.
“But he took away everything from you without even asking or giving you the choice.”
“Yes, and for that I hated him for a long time, but what is the use of spending your life consumed with hate? The prince was arrogant and strong-headed at first, but underneath it all, he had a good heart. The man he became was the one I fell in love with.”
I gaze at the rippling water unseeingly. “So.... moral of the story of the story is.... give Onew a chance?”
“Clever and refreshingly straightforward.” The woman laughs softly, a bright, tinkling sound. “It is merely a suggestion. Youth should not be spent on despair or anger at what has happened that cannot be undone. As you say, we can only make best of what cards are dealt to us. You can be happy if you give yourself the chance to be.”
“But I don’t even know him!”
“Have you tried to get to know him?”

“...No. It’s not that I hate him. It’s just- ... I don’t know. I don’t even know what to think of him.”
“As I said, it was merely a suggestion.” With a grace I envy, she rises from the ground, brushing grass from her skirt. “But know that if Onew had had any say, he would not have chosen for you to go through this in this way in a thousand years; he learned from his father’s mistakes. Nor are you alone in your pain. He hurts as well.”
“How do you know all that for sure? Are you two close?’”
“Well-”
“Mother! Oh, excuse me. They said you were in the lilly garden but they didn’t mention you had-” Onew stops when he sees me, hands outstretched. His smile falters for a second before he says, “Good morning, Lilly. I’m sorry to disturb you; I didn’t see you there.”
I look between the two, belatedly noticing the resemblance in their faces and way of standing. “Mother?”
“It’s all right, my son. Lilly and I had just finished speaking,” she says, patting his cheek. Taking his arm, she turns back to me with another smile. “Please call on me if you need anything or someone to talk to. I look forward to meeting you again, child.”
    With that, she tugs her son away, Onew casting another glance at me over his shoulder. I sit there, unmoving as my mind tries to catch up with this new realization. I called the king a brat. I spilled my thoughts to Onew’s mother. His mother. I might as well have told Onew himself.
“Lilly? Earth to Lilly.” A hand waves in front of my face, making me jerk back. A still half asleep Kibum looks at me strangely. “You all right?” “Yeah,” I breathe. “I’m fine.”
“I thought I heard voices, but the idiots are passed out where they were before,” he yawns.
“I was just talking to myself,” I lie, wanting to keep this to myself for a little longer. “I think I’m done painting.”
“Do you want to go back to your room?”
“No. Can we stay out here a bit longer? The sun feels nice.”
“Of course.” Kibum helps me gather the paper, ink, and brushes, bringing it back to the willow.     Minho, Taemin, and Jonghyun are fast asleep in the grass, not even stirring when we pass them. Setting everything out of the way, Kibum smoothes the blanket for me.
“You can take a nap too, if you want. I’ll keep watch,” he says as he leans against the tree, blinking his eyes to try to wake himself up more.
“Thanks.” Lying on my side and using my arm as a cushion, I close my eyes, Onew’s mother’s words still swirling in my head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The fine silk hanbok hits the rock with a loud slap, clear stream water splashing everywhere. My own plain muslin skirt clings to my legs as I kneel on the wet rock that sits just above the water. My hands are already wrinkled but the basket of clothes by my side is still half full. Wringing the excess water from the silk, I lay it on one of the larger, sunnier rocks and reach for the next skirt. Turning back to the stream, I frown in confusion and dart my hand out.
“Where did you come from?” I ask curiously, allowing the rich green and throughly soaked sash to trickle through my fingers.
    The fact that it’s silk alone indicates its owner as a noble, but the delicate embroidery of gold thread proclaims the fact even more.
“You’re nothing I’ve ever seen before...Maybe you belong to Lord Kang?”
    That would make sense as I know some of Lord Kang’s servants like to use the river as well, though they prefer to do it away from me. I’m too different. Still, I wouldn’t want them to get in trouble for losing something like this. Gathering up the still wet clothes and putting them in my basket as I dare not leave them, I hoist it onto my head and begin walking upstream.
    As I continue walking, I fish out a shirt, then an undershirt, and finally a pair of pants from the water. Shaking my head at the carelessness as I wring the water from the pants, I slow when a clear song rings out through the trees, stopping when I realize it’s a man’s voice. Despite my sudden fear, the melody beckons me, tempting my feet to move towards it. When I reach a large rock as a bend in the river, the voice stops. I quietly set my basket down and peek around the rock’s edge.
    At first, there’s nothing. Then, suddenly, something bursts through the surface of the water. My breath catches in my throat as the figure wipes his hair from his face, his back to me. Who thought a man’s body could be this beautiful?
    The water turns to molten gold in the evening light as it trickles from his cupped hand onto his upturned face. The gold mixes with the russet locks of hair that brush his shoulders. His skin is golden and smooth but for subtle corded muscle, free of any blemish. While one corner of my mind manages to remember this is a man in front of me, I can’t look away.
    Suddenly, he flings his arms to the sky and laughs, a sound of such pure delight that it makes me smile in return. The man splashes more water on his face to smooth his hair back before he turns to the bank. A frown fails to mar his strong, beautiful features as it appears on his full lips.
“I know I put them there,” he mutters, starting to walk out of the waist-high water.
Realizing what he’s looking for, I hurriedly cast my eyes downward, step around the rock, and call out, “My lord, I-”
    I look up in concern when I hear a loud splash. The water turns foamy as the man flails backwards, his arms and legs seemingly everywhere.
Hurriedly covering my eyes with one hand, I search for the clothes I’d found and blindly hold them out. “Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t mean to startle you. Your clothes washed downstream. I swear I didn’t steal them.”
Water sloshes as he regains his feet and comes closer, the clothes leaving my hand as he clears his throat. “It’s all right. I should’ve put them higher on the bank. Thank you for returning them.”
“If it pleases you, my lord, I’m sure my master, Lord Park, wouldn’t mind you borrowing some of his dry clothes,” I offer, gesturing behind me. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want a fellow nobleman to have to wear soaked robes.”
“Oh, thank you.” Rocks slide against each other as he walks to the basket. “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with the area or its residents yet. I’m just visiting my grandfather on the mountain for a few weeks.”
“I didn’t know Lord Kang had any grandsons-” Realizing my error, I flinch and bow my head, waiting for a blow. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. A slave has no right to question the likes of you, my lord.”
The rustling of clothes behind me stops. “A slave?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I don’t know Lord Kang. My grandfather’s a recluse of sorts; he doesn’t like to see people a lot,” he says, his voice carrying a kind of sadness. “My name’s Jinki, not ‘my lord, by the way.”
“I couldn’t possibly be that disrespectful,” I reply, keeping my eyes covered.
“I promise I’m no lord despite my clothes. They’re borrowed so I could properly visit my grandfather. I’m just a normal person. My name is my only title so please use it.” Tender hands pull mine from my face and lift my chin when I refuse to look him in the eyes. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Please, what’s your name?”
    Slowly, I open my eyes, my breath stolen when they meet his. More golden than fresh honey, they sparkle with something I can’t describe, something that mesmerizes me completely.
“Haeyoung,” I murmur. “My name is Haeyoung.
 

==============

Hello lovely readers! I'm so so sorry for being away for so long and only having this one chapter for you. I feel like such a bad writer! T-T Senior year, job searching, and grad school applications have and are the life from me. I will try but can't promise for more updates soon. Thank you for sticking around with me.

<3 <3 <3