Chapter 1 “Behind the shadows, a story is waiting to be told”

He douses in the frosty river, behind the waterfalls at the first light. He has to get her scent off of him. Scrubs, brushes. At some point, his fist connects the wall, and it hurts as much as his ego slowly begging him to stop adhering the pain, but he can’t seem to care less. There were much, much more painful things he has been considering the past two hours.

After his bath, he picks up his washed clothes, tracks the forest back to a little home in the middle where a chimney burned a bit and that kept the wolves away from lingering to this side of the mountains, where a merchant and his overly protective wife and their brooding daughter lives for the past 29 years. A mile away, he can already smell the stew for breakfast, so he quickens his pace and reaches the porch, brushing the winter out of them. Today marks the first day of Spring.

He enters in the kitchen, floor crustily creaking. To his surprise, he isn’t scolded today for getting the place dirty, like a dog barging in after his ceaseless digging in the wild. And another surprise goes to show it is not his surrogate mother cooking today.

“Seulgi? Up at this hour?”

She tilts her head to the side, observing the young boy. “Jongin? Taking a bath?”

He laughs coldly, takes his seat. The table is all set too, which he thinks at first glance might just be the wrong home. “And mother?”

“She went to see Sangsang the doctor.”

“Why? Is her kidney bothering her again?”

The question fades into her almost mindless stirring and birds chirping, in the silence of the meal, boiling; eventually Seulgi turning around and serving a bowl to Jongin, as she sits across him without uttering another word. They usually are not as quiet as today, but the situation calls for it. And Jongin knows that Seulgi knows what the situation is, and why of all things to have for breakfast if there is even such a meal existent in their routine, is meat. A stew of vegetables thrown in but mostly deer meat. From her hunt yesterday, he assumes.

“She’s a princess after all,” Seulgi confirms.

He stops, mouth hanging a little open, before gazing at the girl who everyone thinks is his female replica. They are not siblings, Jongin sometimes justifies, and that is relevant and true. She’s paler, most definitely, her hair ebony black, and deep russet eyes mere slits like daggers that can be fatal upon each glare, but he swears she’s one of the kindest people ever to walk the planet (a contradicting trait in fact, when they are hunting).

Jongin looks away and swallows. “Do you think if I attend her engagement party, unmasked, what are the chances she’ll recognize me?”

“I think,” she grimaces, “if you attend her engagement party, you’re one mad man.”

“But I love her.”

She rolls her eyes. “No one is saying you don’t.”

Jongin’s ears turn a little red, almost fuming, as his fist curled when he pounds the table in disappointment.  “If I love someone that much, I just can’t stand here letting her marry a man her heart isn’t even with? traditions.”

Seulgi eats calmly, unperturbed still. “Again, she’s a princess. Now eat up, father told me we are to pick up some vegetable boxes by the porch today at noon.”

He dismisses his bowl, wipes his mouth, and stands up; he pulls a coat from behind the door. Seulgi looks up, slightly panicking now at what ideas might have struck him.

“Jongin, seriously! What is wrong with you?”

Inhaling deep, Jongin pauses by the doorway, turning back and holding his hand out for her to reach. The sun’s just peeking through the mountainside along with the shadow of the palace on top, which overlooks the whole of Sangdokchi. Seulgi’s been thinking about it lately: his impulsive mood rushes that will get even the wisest elder confused. Sometimes she’s hesitant about them, his emotions, if ever he can see through the pretense of hiding behind a mask every night for the last five years, enchanting, seducing, making love to the Sangdokchian heiress, in hopes that it will change anything. It doesn’t, he knows that.

But Jongin’s always been a stubborn .

She takes his hand anyway.

-oOo-

“Wake up! Today’s the day!”

Things to remember when in the Honsang palace: (1) the higher monarch, the King and Queen usually travels; (2) this means their oldest daughter, duchess Boa heads all decisions while they’re away; (3) Honsang is a nation of crops, so anyone who refuses potatoes at their dining table shall be sent to the dungeon for a month.

Peeking from behind the curtains, the sun slowly brightens up the otherwise constantly dark room of the young prince as the woman ties them together a pair, each in every window and this stirs the young prince from his slumber.

He rubs his eyes, body refusing to get up. “I don’t want sweet potatoes for breakfast.”

“You have no choice, child.” She almost sings her response, such a joyous tune, in fact.

He cringes at this. “I still much prefer a good sleep than breakfast anyway.”

The lady lets out a hearty laugh before sitting at the side of the boy’s bed. “Have you lost track of time? Today is the engagement party. Your engagement party, Sehun.”

Rolling his eyes and struggling to sit upright, the prince clicks his tongue. “What I don’t understand is why we still continue to have stupid traditions. It is almost the 18th Century and we are behind from the Western countries. We’re even behind China!”

She nods and understands his reasons. “Does it bother you that it’s Krystal? Or does it bother you that you will be ruling over Sangdokchi in the next months?”

“A little of both,” he grumbles. “Well, mostly because it is Krystal. You should have seen her face at the Elder’s Circle when they announced the spring union of the Sangdokchi princess and the heir of Honsang. I also do not understand how if she is to be my wife, then why on earth can I not rule over Honsang instead?”

“It is not your fate to be the ruler of Honsang,” Boa responds. “It has been decided on your birth, we were all read and who you are fated to be with. Honsang is in my hands once father and mother retire the crown. And while my marriage is not until a year till then, it is also very near.”

“Easy for you to say,” he scoffs. “You’re marrying your best friend Yunho. What about me? Why not Honsang? I am the heir to Honsang, it should’ve been me.”

Boa’s smile never faltered. “But darling, who is going to rule over Sangdokchi? Prince Changmin forfeits his eligibility to the throne due to medical conditions and you cannot lead a nation when you are half-dying. You are chosen to marry her because it has been seen even at birth that you will remarkably lead a nation as powerful and as magical as our neighbor. It is one of the highest honors.”

“Yes, I heard that story too many times,” Sehun feebly complains, slumping back into the covers. “Irene noona tells me she is the luckiest amongst us siblings because she does not feel any pressure yet in regards to marriage or ruling.”

Getting up now, Boa grins back. “Irene is set out to be engaged in two years too, as one of the Kings from the Northern Kingdom is going to pass it on to his son. Do you remember Junmyeon, right? They are to be wed soon, but you cannot tell her just yet. Let the free spirit be free while she still can.”

Sehun remains still, merely fiddling with his fingers and watching as Boa opens the windows, takes out his expensive outfit for tonight’s event, and the tailored suit for his travel, and at the same time nagging him to take a jasmine oiled bathing for today. He eventually follows orders, obeys them just for today he thinks - he will be after all, away from Honsang for quite a long time he might as well be polite.

“So you have met Krystal recently? At the Elder’s Circle?”

He shrugs, emerging from his closet, as princely as one might suggest, while tidying the collar and cuffs. White suit, white shoes, like snow, like winter. Like yesterday. Spring encourages the land of Honsang to grow, to be bright. It is not his favorite season if anyone ever paid attention to what his favorites are. Perhaps that is why he is a little cranky (“You’re always cranky,” Irene would say) on most days of where it’s expected of him to be sociable.

“She looked surprised,” he replies, escorting his sister out and down to the dining hall. “ opened a little wider and her eyes grew bigger. I don’t know if it came as that much of a shock. I don’t think it was a shock, though. I think she knew she will be getting married, but she wasn’t expecting it’d be me.”

In this morning’s course, there is sour cream soup, cheese and buttered mashed potatoes across the table, wheat bread to pair it up and