Park Chaeyoung gripped her thick hanbok tightly with hawk-eye glances around the room. Her eyes reflected from one person to another, while pursing her cherry lips in a worrisome manner. She let go of her fabric, quietly playing with her finger nails, a habit she does whenever she gets nervous. 

Feeling a hand on her back, she flinched before turning to see her maid, Jinri, with a look of concern flashed across her face. "Your Royal Highness?"

"Y-yes?" 

"Are you alright? You seem to be a bit ill. Perhaps you should go, and get rest."

Her eyes slightly widen at the assumption. "Oh, no, no," her hands waved across her face. After realizing her inappropriate gesture, she timidly looked down with sorry, clenching her wide sleeves. "I assure you, I am fine. Thank you for your bother," the princess whispered. 

Jinri maid gave her a warm smile. "If Princess Chaeyoung needs anything, I will be here." Chaeyoung glanced up to see her maid bow to her before going away to do her chores.

She knew Jinri ever since she could remember. It was at the age of nine when Chaeyoung first met her. Chaeyoung always being shy, took a while to get comfortable around her. As years went by, so many things had changed. The queen died, leaving the princess with just her father. However, she was grateful for Jinri because she was there for her; Jinri was like her mom who held a special place in her heart. 

Chaeyoung had grown so much then. Being 18 years of age, she's been granted a little freedom from her father. Well, it wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. She's allowed to wander the palace wherever she wished, and there's not as much guards having to follow her around as it used to. Although, she would admit she would like to go outside the palace, traveling off from afar, meeting new people and have so many experiences, but that dream was soon shattered at the thought of her father. 

The princess loved her father dearly, however he was just too busy running over the kingdom. And Chaeyoung doesn't blame him, she understood how tiring it was. The only time she sees him during the day is when they have supper. It's the same old questions: How was your day? What did you do today? Did anything happen? That was the usual for every time they saw each other, nothing new and nothing exciting. 

Today, it was different. Not also did many things changed in the past years, but conflicts have abrupt during the time. Especially the Khitan War that began in 993 AD between the Goryeo and the Khitan Liao dynasty. The first invasion was when Khitan had barged into their dynasty at the northwest border. In 1009, the second invasion happened when General Gang Jo led a coup against King Mokjong, who was the seventh ruler of the Goryeo Dynasty. The king died, making King Hyeonjung the new ruler of the Goryeo Dynasty. In 1010, Chaeyoung had remembered fleeing with her parents, away from the capital, which was burned by the Khitans. That night haunted her, watching the fire stand out in the pitch-black as it killed every thing around it. They bequeath at Naju, and soon the Khitan armies withdrew, fearing a counterattack. Her father had asked for peace, but the Liao emperor demanded that he came in person, and the Goryeo courts had refused the demands, resulting a decade of hostility between the two nations as both sides made preparations for the war later in the future.

Today, the year of 1018, was the day where the king honors each and every warrior that is going into battle to finally end the Khitan War led by General Gam-Chan. No matter how relieved Chaeyoung wanted to feel after ending the war, the pain of sadness hit her.

She felt a presence next to her, standing tall and confident, as he loudly cleared his voice throughout the room. "Warriors," he began. "I would like to honor and thank each and everyone of you for sacrificing your lives for this nation." 

Chaeyoung had tried her best to pay attention to her father as he continued on with his speech, until she laid her eyes on the very one she was looking for. A gasp was quickly to be hidden, spotting Jung Yoon-oh. As far as she knew, he was the youngest warrior, being the same age as herself. Despite his young age, his looks said different. He was mature, more manly than most of the guys in this dynasty. He was so kind and caring to others, yet brave at the same time. Yoon-oh was well-respected among the warriors for his hard-work and exceptional intelligence. When Chaeyoung would read outside, she would always find him training for himself to get better, even though he's already highly skilled. She always knew what time and where he would practice. Well, not that Chaeyoung purposely planned to go out when he's there..

She loved watching him train in the bright sunlight where she can omnisciently see everything. She observed his hair that slightly dripped with sweat, his forehead and eyebrows creased as he concentrated with his sharp and fast movements that was impossible to see in a blink of an eye. His breathing going up and down from exhaustion as his eyes never left his opponent. Her eyes would trail down to his muscular biceps that could clearly be seen through his attire and his sturdy chest when he took a break as it heaved in and out. The thoughts of him being in that state made her heavily blush before hastily looking down at the ground before anyone had saw her. Chaeyoung wanted to slam her head against the wall, embarrassed.

She clenched her hands, restraining herself from looking back at him. Her eyes soon betrayed her when she took a peek. 'He was perfect,' she thought. His eyes, his smile, his voice, his laugh. His attractive looks mixed with his cunning, funny, yet heoric personality was beyond exemplary; it was everything a girl would want.

Dejection soon fell on her like crackling boulders falling from the sky when she had realized he was going into the war. The thought of it broke her, tore her apart, not being able to see him anymore for who knows how long, or even worse, if he doesn't come back at all. After her father told her about todays event a few weeks ago, she sobbed in her bedroom. The door locked as she choked on her cries in order to stay silent, feeling the burning torture in her neck. She recalled every bit until this day. Biting into her blanket, forcing herself to stay quiet as the hot and steamy tears rolled down her face. Ignoring the dehydration, while hugging her knees, not caring if she had fainted or gotten sick. It was a suffer, not being to scream her aching heart out, being deeply terrified of her father finding out. Oh, how she dreaded this day so much. Oh, how much she wishes to stop time, so she can savour these moments with hi