I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why I became emotional, but I did. My eyes filled with unshed tears and I made sure to keep them wide open, to try not to let them fall.

However, the more I think about it, the more I realize why I became filled with emotion. I suppose I became emotional because I thought I would never be able to get out. He had already promised his grandmother there was a queen, and that queen was me. If I agreed, I’d be the queen, and if I disagreed, the King could simply demand it and I’d have to recognize his authority. If I didn’t give in, he could have me killed. Then I’d never get back home. . . .

“Han Soojin?” the King called to me.

I pushed myself away from the door and slid across the floor to my original spot just in time for the doors to open.

He lowered his head so that he could look into the room. His eyebrows were raised in expectation, as if he was waiting for me to say something first.

“Why . . . do you have this extra room?” I asked quietly, hoping he wouldn’t bring up me pretending to be queen.

He gave me a small smile. An amazing small smile, may I add. His whole face seemed to relax, as if when he smiled he forgot his duties as king and became a simple man: a man who laughed like everyone else, cried like everyone else, and wished and dreamed and hoped like everyone else.

“I’m not sure why I have it,” he answered just as quietly as I had asked. “It’s been here since my father was king. However, it’s proven itself useful, has it not?” His eyes danced with mischief and I was surprised he would have such a look in his eyes since he was king.

The playful, easefulness of his eyes only made my anxiety worse. I knew I didn’t want to hear about me being the queen, but the longer we waited, the more nervous I became. This small talk was driving me insane. My skin was crawling just waiting to know if I needed to be the queen or not. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I felt like I was back in middle school, eager to confess a secret I had just learned from a friend of mine.

“Y-your Majesty?”

He looked at me, the small smile still in place. “Yes?”

“Do I need to be the queen?” I refused to beat around the bush. There wasn’t really a casual way to maneuver this topic into the conversation anyways.

The smile slowly faltered until his face looked like it was twisted with a new sort of pain. He sighed heavily, the kind of sigh that interacts with the whole body, making his shoulders slouch and his chest cave in. Even his eyes seemed to deflate into dejection.

I waited for him patiently. He began to sit down right outside of the doorway to the secret room. He sat with his legs crossed and one hand on each knee. His back became straight and his face was hard, showing no emotion.

“I would be forever grateful if you were queen, however I cannot force you.” He paused, thinking. “Well, I can force you, but I will not. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” One of his eyebrows raised and he distractingly glanced at the ground. His eyes met mine as he whispered, “Isn’t that right?”

His voice was low and smooth, taking me off guard.

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. This isn’t fair. Why does the king have to be charming on top of everything else?

“I know nothing about being queen,” I started explaining, trying to find any excuse I could use.

“I can teach you.” He dismissed my worry with a strong tone and a simple wave of the hand. “It’s nothing you can’t learn in time.”

“But, I need to get home.” I refused to look him in the eyes as I said this because for some reason I felt guilty. I didn’t know why. It’s not like I was lying to him for my own entertainment. He’d probably have me locked up for being crazy if I told him I was from the future. I tried to think of it as protecting myself because I didn’t want to start imagining what would happen if I was labeled as mentally crazy.

“We can send your family a generous amount of riches. Where is your family? What household? What town?” He leaned in a little as he talked, like he was genuinely interested in what I had to say.

“But I don’t have any clothes.” I was grasping at straws now. I was trying to find anything that would allow me to be incapable of becoming the queen. Anything.

“Even if you had regular clothes, you couldn’t possibly wear them. We’d give you clothes of the royal family, the ones the queen wears. Don’t worry, we’d have everything completely ready for you to take her place. It would be easy and simple.”

Simple was the last word I’d use to describe this situation. Could you imagine? “Well, first I time-travelled 450 years into the past because of God knows what, then I was taken to the palace, met the king, and was asked to become the queen. But don’t worry, they gave me clothes and taught me the proper etiquette. It’s quite simple, really. Kind of a bland story if you ask me.”

No.

“Before I give you an answer,” I said quietly and slowly, “can I ask you a question, sir?”

He nodded, the small smile back in place. “Anything.”

“How did you know I wasn’t the queen?”

His head lowered and he chuckled quietly to himself. I didn’t understand what he found amusing, but I didn’t inquire about that part. “Your neck.”

“Huh?”

“Your neck,” he repeated, without any further information.

“My neck?”

“Yes, your neck.”

“What about my neck?”

He seemed to catch on to what I didn’t understand. “The queen has a birth mark on the lower right side of her neck, close to the back. I checked and you didn’t have it.”

I nodded. “So that’s why. . . .” I remembered him lifting my hair up off my neck and leaning around to see it. I hadn’t understood why he’d do something like that, but now I knew.

“So, your answer?”

I shut my eyes tight and took a deep breath.

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. Sure. Why not? Because it's a death wish. No. Yes. Definitely. Never ever. Never. Yes.

“Yes,” I said. I hadn’t even realized I’d agreed to it when the word left my mouth. I had to let it sink in, slowly but surely, letter by letter. Y-e-s. Yes.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hands. I looked up at the king with worried eyes. “What did I just do?”

His lips were pulled in tightly together, like he was trying to suppress a smile. He avoided looking me in the eyes and sighed, letting his smile take over his entire face. The look of genuine happiness eased the constriction on my heart slightly. Instead of it feeling like a two hundred pound rock sitting on my chest, it became a one hundred and eighty pound rock.

“I am forever grateful, Han Soojin,” he told me kindly. He stood and held out his hand. I grabbed it and he gently helped me off the floor. “Now we must get started. This is exciting!”

I nodded absentmindedly, his words going through one ear and out the other. I was so distracted and confused with myself that I didn’t take notice of him holding my hand tightly in his.

“Let’s see . . . wardrobe will need to be first. Those clothes are dreadful,” he continued enthusiastically. “You’ll also have special privileges, however that seems to be implied. Understand?”

I nodded again, but once more, the words didn’t register. He kept talking on, mentioning things I should know if I were to pose as the queen.

I said yes. I can’t believe I said yes. What was I thinking? Right, I wasn’t thinking. Why did he have to smile? Why does he have to be cute? And nice? This is torture. Absolute torture.

I looked up at him and witnessed that bright, white smile and quickly looked away.

Oh, Lord help me.

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