A/N: This set of chapters will be kind of a filler with the intent of making sure you guys don't look at Chanyeol as simply erted. Let me make it clear. Chanyeol is erted and kind in this fic. Thank you to those who have subscribed. Even though ya'll are few (since this is not -yet- a rated M fic [yes, rated M fics are more popular if you haven't noticed]), I made a promise to finish this for myself so I would be letting myself down if I don't see it til the end. 

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Anna Danielle Sabine

The dining table was filled with numerous dishes and side dishes. Most were vegetables and seafood of different colors. Looking at it all together, the food almost wanted to make you happy with all the bright yellow and red peppers. I ate well enough despite having a completely different palate. The crowned prince was seated across the table. I could not dare look at him now that he has declared 'it'. Was he staring now? I could not tell. My sharp senses apparently do not work with men with such handsome faces. 

"How do you like the seafood stew," he asked quietly, just enough to keep the conversation between us. 

I looked up at him and panicked. "The stew is fantastic! You can tell the seafood is fresh," I ended up saying something so pathetically dumb louder than expected so the younger prince looked at me very quickly and went back to his meal. I mentally cursed myself and calmed down. I saw the crowned prince smirk and then smile brightly in the corner of my eye. I desire for my soul to fly away from body now.

The emperor decided to let us get settled into the palace first. My room was roughly the same size as the one back home. A thin paper sliding wall separated the sleeping area from the rest. But everything else seemed to be miniature. A miniature closet, a miniature shelf, miniature silk pillows, even a miniature writing table- all positioned in a way that looks like that of a reception area in a busy French hotel. God knows what I would do with this set-up. I slid the paper wall aside and there was my bed. A foldable comforter is what it looked like to me. I wonder what the bathroom would look like as well.

My heart was sinking from the disappointment with the living conditions so I quickly grabbed my favorite book from my suitcase and trudged along the palace hoping to find the little gazebo along the pond that the prince had shown me earlier. My steps were heavy. I cannot phathom the amount of stupidity I had displayed when I agreed to go along to EMPIRE OF JOSEON. I mimicked the emperor's disturbing accent in my head as I thought. 

I found the gazebo but I failed to find solace. The crowned prince was there, feeding the fish in all his serene beauty. Blood rushed to my face so I quickly faced about.

"Anna," he called. 

No. I am not giving in to you.

"Anna," he called out once more, "Anna, it is I, Chanyeol. Come help me feed the fish. They have not had their lunch yet!"

What do I care about the fish? 

"Anna," he called a final time in a much gentler voice. 

I was mentally celebrating and congratulating myself for rejecting the prince's invitation when a guard came out of nowhere and approached me. Expectantly, he spoke gibberish. Expectantly, I did not understand the words nor the context, maybe except have an inkling that the guard was angry and that he was not staring at my s. The guard raised his voice. I tightened my grip around the book I had brought all the way from France. Seconds. It will take seconds before I hit this man with it. 

"Please stop yelling at her," I heard the prince say inches away from my back. I was not able to hear his footsteps but now with the little distance between us, the prince's presence was overwhelming. The guard seemed to be shocked. He apologized, bowed and ran along in his little colorful footwear. 

The prince grabbed my wrist lightly, dragging me at his back towards the gazebo. A breeze swept over the landscape and I could smell the prince. He had no perfume on. He had but the faint scent of cherry blossoms and sweat, like he had been spending all the days of spring mesmerizing the little flowers.  Once he had succeeded, he broke the bread in his hand in half, gave me the other half, faced away from me and continued feeding the fish. If he was not gorgeous, nor the prince (once again, I play with power), I would have hit him with the book as well. He really only wanted me to help him feed the fish?! Absurd!

Once I regained composure, I settled my book on top of the garden seats and did as I was told. I value my life enough not to die just because I crossed a prince and not fed fish. 

"Are you upset with me," the prince asked gently, still facing the other way.

I, for one, had no idea what to answer. I threw another piece of bread into the pond and a big Koi fish splashed some water on me. Wonderful. "Yes, I am upset." Wait, no I am not. I am upset over the fish, not the prince but it's the same I suppose. I am upset over this whole retirement!

"Is it because of..." he paused, "because I noticed your..."

I sighed, "No. Not entirely becuase of that." The prince did not deserve my hate. In fact, I have heard and seen men notice the size of my s multiple times. It is not entirely new information. 

"Then what is it?" 

I turned around after I threw the last piece and he was already seated, holding my book. I grabbed it from him. No memory of France will be tainted with anything Joseon. He frowned again. There was that sound again- the sound of my inner self screaming in pain or excitement. Not sure which. But I am positive that I scream for the prince. 

"Oh alright, alright," I exclaimed and sat at the adjacent seat. "I will tell you everything but you need promise upon your life that you will never mention this to anyone, especially your father because then, it will affect my own father, and mother and then, well, it goes back to me. I end up paying the consequences."

He was smiling now. "I swear upon this oath with the loyalty of a prince of the empire."

And so I told the crowned prince everything that he did not need to know about- how my family ended up here and the particular things I am irritated about. I am reduced to a blabber mouth when I am upset. I may have just ruined this whole retirement plan for my parents or started an international dispute between France and the EMPIRE OF JOSEON (in the emperor's accent, of course). 

"Anna, unfortunately, I am in no position to bring you and your family back home, especially since I too am in need of your parents' guidance. What I can do is help you learn to like the palace," he said in all his regal aura.

"And how do you plan to do that when..." I enumerated all the things I found disadvantageous to me in the past few hours since we have arrived and to all my complaints, he answered with a resounding laugh. 

"Sadly, Anna," his laughter just started to slow down, "I do not find the need to change all of that for you."

I looked at him with a clear expression. YOU. ARE. IMPOSSIBLE. I groaned. It is not that I am certain of what I want him to do or not to do. It is just that he is aiming to make me feel better but he is not. 

"Be my friend, Anna." There it was- his master plan for me to like this foreign land. At first he stared at me as if trying to decipher my answer. He was wide-eyed and cautious and uncertain like he had just asked some impossible favor from me. I, too, was surprised. This was exactly my father's plan. For as long as I have friends, I will never want to leave. That was my nature. I hated leaving people behind unless absolutely necessary, more so, getting left behind. 

"What is your name again," I asked while sporting a confident smile (note that I am extremely proud of myself for doing so in front of a gorgeous prince.)

He seemed dumbfounded at first. I am assuming that it is the first time in his life that he is asked his name. "Ch-Chanyeol. My father named me after Al Chan Yeol Mae or ripe fruit. His reason was desiring that I be mature enough before I face an obstacle that will force me to mature."

"But you are still a fruit, however mature," I said. He laughed so loudly, the guards who were rounding the perimeter of pond were startled. Have they never heard him laugh or was it just a rare occurrence? After all, if he is four years older than I am, then he is twenty-three years old. That struck me. The prince is 23. He is a grown man. No. He has the build of grown man but his face and personality seem levelled with mine. "It is decided then. You are my fruity friend, Chanyeol. From this moment on, I will not address you formally." He laughed once more. I do hope my gravestone would not read "Died because she called His Majesty a fruit".

"Nor will I Anna Danielle Sabine de Montailles."