The Marquis stormed into Chaeyeong’s room the following morning, steam rising from his head like a boiling pot. He yanked her from her bed sheets, throwing her violently to the ground. For a terrifying moment, Chaeyeong thought this was finally it. He had grown tired of her presence and was ready to put her out of her misery. She almost prayed he would.

“You! It was all your doing, wasn’t it?! Those men from last night were part of your cult, and you led them here!” the Marquis spat in her face. His contorted face looked even more menacing as it came inches from Chaeyeong’s own. What gave him the farfetched idea that she had been involved, Chaeyeong had no idea. It was another one of his gimmicks, a way to vent out his anger. She knew nothing of what happened last night, although it must’ve been involved with V’s coterie. No note of this was made to the Marquis; any word out of her would result in another beating.

“I told you that if you made another step out of line, things won’t end well. You really wanted to see the extent of my patience, didn’t you, you little classless leech?!” the Marquis dragged Chaeyeong by the hair down the stairs, screaming and begging for mercy. He hauled her for what seemed to last forever, definitely much longer to take her downstairs

 “Stay down here and contemplate on your pathetic life!” the Marquis yelled before slamming the barred door shut. When Chaeyeong finally adjusted to the darkness, she could see the door was connected to three other sides. He’d thrown her into a cage: one which hadn’t seemed to be used in awhile. A foul smell permeated from one corner of the cage, drawing Chaeyeong’s attention. She approached the shriveled lump that produced the odor, curiously drawing closer and closer.

“Dear goodness!” the young girl sighed, recognizing the lump as a sleeping body. Relieved by another presence, she gently nudged the figure.

“Ma’am, please wake up. My name is Chaeyeong, the daughter of the Marquis,” Chaeyeong said, prodding the lady once more. When she didn’t make a motion to respond, Chaeyeong reached over to roll the lady onto her back.

Except the lady wasn’t asleep: at least, not literally. Chaeyeong first saw her eyes, or rather; she saw the empty sockets that used to hold a pair. A large, hairy rat climbed out of the right eye and ran down the corpse’s face into the shadows. The rest of the face was contorted in a similar fashion, frozen in time; the mouth set wide agape, cheeks hollowed out, and skin sagging off her cheekbones. With closer attention she could see how pale and translucent the rest of the lady’s body had become from lack of oxygen flow.  The heap was little more than skin and bones, no doubt rotting away for much too long. Several gruesome holes covered the entire length of her body. Centipedes, rats, and animals that Chaeyeong didn’t even know existed came crawling out of their new home, still attempting to consume the remnants of a food source long gone. The corpse itself was warped in unnatural angles not even an acrobat could will his body into. A finger fell off when Chaeyeong touched her, and several others followed. Chaeyeong immediately released the body’s shoulder and backed away to the opposite corner as far as she could get. Her deafening screams erupted from pure horror, echoing throughout the empty room.

Chaeyeong always knew the Marquis was a morbid human being, but not to this extent. This woman, whoever she was, died an inhumane death with no one by her side. She died slowly as well, tortured until the last of her spirit had descended from her mortal body. Chaeyeong’s voice had grown hoarse when the Marquis finally descended from the stairs.

“Ah! It seems you’ve met Mrs. Moreau! I hope she didn’t leave too bad of a first impression,” he laughed sardonically.

“W-what did you do to her,” Chaeyeong croaked, unable to stop the fear from seeping into her voice.

“Oh, I think the full story isn’t suited for young ladies like you. Let’s just say that I know a man who knows how to enjoy himself with disobedient women,” the Marquis snickered in glee, finding amusement simply from the thought. He did this to the one woman he had sworn to love, simply because she went against him. Without a doubt, his former wife had been toyed with by another man, imprisoned in her own home, and tortured till her heart finally gave out. Chaeyeong couldn’t even find a twinge of regret in the Marquis’ blackened soul. 

“Y-you…”

“Come now, I would not do such a thing to my beloved daughter, would I? That is, as long as you learn to behave yourself properly. That should not be too difficult, right love?” the Marquis asked, challenging her to say otherwise. With terror pulsing through the young girl’s veins, she eagerly nodded in agreement.

“Remember,” the Marquis said before leaving, “be good, Chaeyeong,”

The beatings were continuous. The Marquis would always, always find a way to childishly point his finger at her. Sometimes he’d take the time to bring out the Baton de Bois, the most loved wooden stick. It was almost always at his side, swinging tauntingly from his waistband. Other times the Marquis would lose all patience and hit her barbarically without holding back. Hideous, purple blotches constantly marred Chaeyeong’s translucent skin, which was not much different than the late Mrs. Moreau’s. With no ointments of medical attention, she learned to suffer in silence. He saw her as a stress reliever, but never considered the price paid for his benefit. Of course, why would he? She was nothing more than a common proletariat who should be bending to his every whim. In his eyes, Chaeyeong should be thanking him for the attention.

Chaeyeong learned how to live under two extremes. On one end (where she was kept most of the time), she spent her time talking to Mrs. Moreau’s corpse and contemplated life outside this prison. Her thoughts reached out to Minah, who betrayed her, yet she still wished her old best friend a happy life. Suga crossed her min as well, and she wondered if the two had made up, or if all three of them had gone their separate ways. Chaeyeong prayed to the heavens that her best friends were still there for each other, that neither of them was alone. But more frequently, she thought of V. How he came in through her window in the dead of night and kissed her so tenderly. She yearned for his soft caresses that tricked her into believing it was real. She craved, needed that deception; for the first time in Chaeyeong’s life, she understood why all the other peasants drunk their nights away. More than anything, she just wished V could whisk her away and become her hero one last time.

On the other end, the Marquis would take Chaeyeong along with him like a child showing off his favorite toy. She was always to be starched and ironed till she looked as plastic as she felt. Just like the first night, Chaeyeong was forced to put on suffocating corsets and billowing dresses that made her struggle to walk. Before guests came over, the Marquis would spend hours instructing her on how to properly act. Once in awhile, there would even be a dance instructor that would teach Chaeyeong traditional dances to entertain the guests. It wasn’t completely unpleasant. She felt degraded and objectified when the old men’s eyes would rake her body up and down, although she quickly got used to their erted natures. Other than a shoulder rub or a kiss on the hand, the guests didn’t make any other attempts to touch her. She only had her pride left; they couldn’t take that away too.

Four years later

  The last thing Chaeyeong expected was to go hungry when she was first adopted by the Marquis. He was rich; if there was anything he had to offer, it was the money to buy food. However the Marquis worried that his asset was gaining too much weight too quickly, so he only allowed Chaeyeong one meal a day. Rich aristocrats didn’t like their women too thick. The sound of Chaeyeong’s stomach growling rang awkwardly in the dressing room while Ms. Collet and her ladies busied themselves.

“It’s extremely important for the meeting to go well for your father, dear,” Ms. Collet said while pinning up Chaeyeong’s stubborn curls.

“Who’s it with?” Chaeyeong asked.

“The King,”

This caught Chaeyeong’s attention. The Marquis was to meet with the King. Tonight. She’d heard of how her step-father was in a close friendship with His royal highness, although the Marquis never spoke of him directly. Why so suddenly were they to meet? People would think that as the Marquis’ daughter, Chaeyeong would know all the gossip that peasants could never get their hands on. However she was just as clueless, if not more.

 Only the Marquis’ best carriage and horses took the two to the palace. Everywhere guards were stationed, more so than usual. Each held double barreled guns that Chaeyeong was certain the King would never spend so much money on. Chaeyeong and the Marquis were forced to pass three security checkpoints before entering, although all the palace men clearly knew their family name. Something was very wrong.

However the King greeted them as though it were any other day. Full glasses of blood red wine awaited the guests, even though Chaeyeong wasn’t of age to drink. Seeing her hesitation, the King waved it off. It was if his dismissal solved all their problems, just like that. But in his mind, Chaeyeong knew he truly believed it. Nonetheless, Chaeyeong drank, hoping it could offer even a quarter of the comfort V gave her that night. Not surprisingly enough, she’d already begun to feel tipsy before the first glass was drained.

“So wasted already, dear Chaeyeong? Come on, the fun has only begun!” the King hollered like a wild animal. Excited to have found an excuse to leave, Chaeyeong grasped it and apologized profusely before escaping to the courtyard. Under normal circumstances, the King would have her head on a platter for leaving before he’s had his entertainment. However the flushed cheeks and drooping eyes were a telltale sign that he wouldn’t catch Chaeyeong this time.

As soon as the icy cool air of the courtyard kissed Chaeyeong’s lips, she could immediately feel all the pent up tension leave her. Four years of fear, anxiety, horror, and disgust flowed out with the air she exhaled, just like that. Chaeyeong kicked off her pinching shoes and twirled as if she were a princess ruling the world. The stifling corset along with all the other unnecessary layers of cloth were peeled off and left in a heap on the stone pathway. Wearing only her thin under dress, Chaeyeong ran with the wind grazing her legs, caressing her cheeks. For the first time in six years, she was free.

“Glad to see yuh in such high spirits,” a voice called from the dark. Chaeyeong paused, praying for a terrifying moment that she hadn’t been caught. But the speaker quickly revealed himself in the light. He was much older now, with a stronger build that only food and nutrition could provide. Lean muscle was visible under the thin linen shirt that he wore, which was of much higher quality than Chaeyeong remembered. Although he himself was so physically different, Chaeyeong could recognize that heartwarming smile anywhere. Never again did she expect to see him, especially not here at the palace.

“Suga?” Chaeyeong ran to him instantly, still unsure if he was really there or if the wine was deluding her senses. But as soon as she felt his warm skin under her embrace, as soon as she could hear his heart beat in sync with hers, she knew he had returned.

“It’s you! It’s really you! Suga, I-” Chaeyeong broke off breathlessly, finding tears blurring her vision. She crumbled in his arms, crying whole heartedly without a single emotion held back. Through broken sobs, she spilled out everything that had happened since the day they were separated six years ago. Suga listened patiently whilst holding her closely in his arms. Several times he nearly broke out in anger, but willed himself to be patient till the end.

“Why, dat bastard! I’ll rip off whatever balls he has left and send him straight to the depths of Hell. I’ll send him there myself and make sure he never touches yuh again,” Suga yelled, balling his hands up into fists. Chaeyeong laughed through her tears, recalling the old habit.

“Suga, I only ask that you take me away from here. I don’t care where you take me. Whether it is a dazzling mansion in Paris or back to the dirty streets where we grew up, I’m alright as long as you save me from this miserable life,” Chaeyeong pleaded. Seeing her in such a defeated state fueled Suga’s resolve in a way nothing else could. He suddenly cupped her cheeks in his hands and drew her close.

“Chae, that’ll be the bare minimum of what I’ll give yuh. I’ve joined up with the rebellion forces-”

“There’s a rebellion?” she whispered. Suga stared at her in shock, thousands of questions flying through his head.

“Has he told you nothing, Chae? The Jacobins? The smuggling? Anything?” Chaeyeong shook her head, growing dizzy with all the happenings of the last six years. A rebellion. It hit her like a long awaited gift that finally arrived, although long overdue. It’s what Minah, Suga, and her have all been dreaming of their entire lives. They’ve always heard useless nonsense from the drunkards at the tavern, but nothing that would take action to alter the status quo. Finally it was here, but Chaeyeong missed all of it.

“I need to get yuh out of here, right now. Dear God, I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m so, so sorry Chae. You must hate me, don’t you? After what happened with Minah, I never kept my promise. It’s all my fault, dear goodness, I’m so sorry Chae,” he apologized profusely, begging for her forgiveness. After becoming an empty doll, Chaeyeong didn’t know how to respond to his kindness. Releasing her own emotions felt natural, long overdue. But accepting others? Her opinion hadn’t mattered in forever.

“I-It’s okay Suga, I don’t blame you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. I’ve missed you so much, you know?” Chaeyeong smiled sadly, on the brink of tears once again.

“Chae, I-”

Suddenly Chaeyeong’s entire world came crashing down in the matter of a second. Suga collapsed to the ground; eyes wide in shock as he looked down to see the bullet lodged into his chest.

“No!” Chaeyeong couldn’t believe the blood pooling out from his chest as she held him in her arms. This isn’t happening. No, no, no. How can her new found relief be over so soon? What kind of cruel joke was being played on her this time?

“You’ll be okay, everything will be okay,” Chaeyeong kept repeating to herself whilst pressing the wound with her dress. Neither of them believed her babbling, so Suga finally held her hands still.

“Chae—I…I’m so sorry. But even if it’s not done on Earth, I’ll do everything I can in heaven to make sure the Marquis faces justice. I promise you this,” Suga said through the blood piling in his throat.

“Shhhh, don’t say that, please. You can’t leave me yet,” Chaeyeong cried softly. Through all the wild emotions raging through her mind, she could hear the murderer’s footsteps approaching fast.

“Chae, I-I want you to know…that I love you. Even when we were kids on the streets, covered in dirt and even when we haven’t washed for weeks, you were always so beautiful. We were always hungry but…when I saw you smiling through it all, I knew I could too,” Suga smiled one last time for Chaeyeong. But before she even had time to comprehend his confession, his soul was already soaring high above Marseille’s setting sun, into the heavens above.

“Suga, Suga no, please! I-” rough arms pulled Suga’s lifeless body from Chaeyeong’s grasp, and another pair hauled her up.

“Let go! Stop, bring him back! Let go of me!” Chaeyeong screamed through blurry tears, shrieking because she knew it was all over. “Suga! Don’t leave me here!” she whispered this time, sending a silent message that she prayed would reach his heart.

Chaeyeong was envious. Envious that Suga had already left this cruel world while she was still stuck behind. Yet at the same time, she was so incredibly thankful that one of her best friends was finally at a better place. She’d rather it be this way than for either Minah or Suga to starve for another day.

She also pondered on Suga’s also confession as the world around her disappeared. It all made sense now. Suga always gave Chaeyeong a little more food when splitting the morsels among the three of them. He’d used to make the excuse that she was younger, and therefore needed the extra energy, but Chaeyeong now saw that it was an act of affection. He’d always been going out of his way to make their miserable lives just a little bit better for Chaeyeong. But did she love him back? And if she did, will they be reunited in their next lives?

*

“Not much happened after that. The Marquis’ men returned me to the cage where I continued to live under my stepfather’s thumb for seven more years. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I was when La Guillotine sent him straight to the depths of Hell. My life could’ve been perfect after that. I could’ve gone to find Suga and we would’ve fled France. Maybe go to Belgium, where they speak French. But he was long gone,” Chaeyeong finished, lost in thought. Taehyung watched her, wondering how much he should reveal to her.

Nothing had gone right Chaeyeong’s entire life: not her social standing, not her family relations, and certainly not her love life. In the last moments of her existence, Taehyung wanted to make something right for her.

“Suga…was a great friend,” Taehyung said, watching as Chaeyeong’s eyes lit up.

“Did you know him?!” she gasped.

“We joined the Jacobins around the same time. Both naïve and eager to change the world,” he said, “but did you love him?”

Chaeyeong contemplated for a long time, and Taehyung could see the whirlwind of thoughts spiraling inside her head.

“I-I’m not sure. I’d never really considered the possibility till he was dead in my arms. After seven years I still don’t know the answer,” she finally said.

“Then what about V? Do you still feel anything for him?” Taehyung asked hesitantly. Chaeyeong laughed brightly, amusing him.

“My feelings for him are nowhere near what I had with Suga. You can’t compare a relationship that had begun since childhood with the equivalent of a one night stand. However…it was surreal. V stole my first kiss,” Chaeyeong said, smiling at the memory.

“Is that so,” Taehyung said, holding back a chuckle, “do you remember the way his lips felt?”

Chaeyeong flushed. “Why would you…” She trailed off, too embarrassed to say anything sensible.

  “Chaeyeong, look at me closely,” Taehyung said, forcing her to meet his gaze. Hesitantly, she did, analyzing the pure green that reflected back. It was the same forest green that had pleaded for her to remain silent during the middle of a grand heist. Now fully unmasked, she recognized the sharp curve of the jaw she so delicately traced with her fingers.

“You’re not—it can’t be,” she gasped, covering .

“But it is,” Taehyung smirked, “here in the flesh,”

In a swift motion, Taehyung unlocked the cell door and left nothing to separate the two of them. It was all unreal to Chaeyeong. Heaven had finally answered Chaeyeong’s silent prayer; a remake of that day eleven years ago. She was back in his arms, once again finding comfort and a safe haven in this ugly world. She knew the moment would be sweet to enjoy, but gone too soon. None of that mattered as Chaeyeong felt herself get lost in the maze of Taehyung’s heart. He let her in so easily: out of pity or care, Chaeyeong couldn’t tell. She didn’t want to know either. V’s soft kisses trailed along the curve of Chaeyeong’s neck, almost exactly as they had eleven years ago. He was saving her all over again from a cruel fate she was destined to face.

*

“Chaeyeong,” Taehyung called to the peacefully sleeping form, “it’s time to go,”

Chaeyeong rose in a smooth motion, and smiled. That single gesture broke Taehyung’s heart into a thousand pieces. This girl, who had done nothing but suffer her entire life, was finally (and so fittingly) going to meet an unjust end. He silently clicked the handcuffs over her wrists and guided her outside to La Guillotine.

“It’s not too late to back out now,” Taehyung whispered into her ear, “I could still sneak you out somehow, and we can falsify your death-”

Chaeyeong stared back sadly, breaking him off. She shook her head, gazing out at the thousands of peasants that had gathered to watch her execution. Each one so full of hatred and contempt for what they presumed to be her extravagant life.        

 “Don’t you get it? I want to be free. There’s no other end for me,” she whispered.