Given all the turmoil, Yeonhee had expected not to sleep at all well, but after a luxurious soak in a warm bath of bubbles (she hadn’t had a bubble bath since she was about seven), she was relaxed and tired and when out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow.  Shortly before seven, she woke up feeling thoroughly refreshed, and succumbed to the temptation to stay cocooned in the soft down duvet for several long minutes before finally getting up to browse the bookshelves.  She was halfway through the third chapter of an extremely well written crime thriller when the prince knocked on her door.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, politely remaining just outside the door.

Yeonhee nodded happily.

“We should go down for breakfast.  My mother will be waiting.”

Putting on the fluffy pastel green dressing gown that was hanging just behind the door, Yeonhee slipped on her shoes and followed the prince as he headed downstairs.  She wasn’t sure what to feel about meeting the queen (beyond blank terror), and it must have showed on her face, because as the prince paused at the bottom of the steps to let her catch up, he gave a soft smile.

“Don’t worry,” he said.  “Luhan’s coming in at eight, so she only has half an hour to interrogate us.”

It didn’t make Yeonhee feel all that much better.

“Your highness,” she said nervously as he started towards a door that was a little ajar, “is there anything I need to know about meeting her majesty?  Like, do I need to bow or curtsy?  How do I address her?  Am I allowed to continue eating once she’s finished all the food on her plate?”

The prince paused again and blinked, as though this wasn’t something he’d ever had to consider before.

“No bowing or curtsying and she prefers ma’am in informal settings,” he told her, “and she’s a slow eater so you don’t need to worry about the food.”

Nodding, Yeonhee swallowed.

“Are you all right?” he checked, a touch concerned.

Yeonhee took a deep breath.  “Not really,” she admitted.  “If I was your family I don’t think I’d like me very much.”

The queen was every bit as gracious and well mannered as her son, but it was pretty clear she was confused by and disapproving of her son bringing home a known republican activist.  Despite that, she made an effort to help Yeonhee feel at ease, insisting more or less from the moment that Yeonhee hesitantly returned her greeting that they all ought to speak in Hanmi for the comfort of their guest.  For the first time, it brought home to Yeonhee the fact that Hanmi was not actually the prince’s mother tongue.  Right from their first meeting, he’d spoken to her almost exclusively in Hanmi, but from the way the queen occasionally paused to gather her thoughts before saying something to him, it was evident that they were accustomed to conversing in Zenyu, which was no doubt the main language of the palace.  She was fluent, but not as fluent as her son, who had not inherited her slight but noticeably Zenyu lilt in pronunciation when he was speaking in Hanmi.

Clothes had been laid out for Yeonhee while they were eating.  She returned to the guest room to find a pair of beautifully cut dark jeans, which surprised her because she hadn’t really thought jeans were a part of the palace wardrobe and which looked like they cost more than any other piece of clothing she owned except perhaps a couple of extremely nice cocktail dresses and a ball gown.  To go with them was a pale pink blouse and a pastel blue jumper, giving her a stylish smart casual look that was smarter than most things she would have worn and also significantly out of her price range.  (That said, if a side effect of accidentally causing a scandal with royalty was a gift of extremely nice clothes, it was quite difficult to complain about it.)

One of the household staff took her down to Luhan’s office once she was dressed.  During the walk through the corridors and down onto the ground floor as they wound their way through to the central wing of the palace, Yeonhee took the opportunity to check her phone.  Baekhyun thankfully appeared not to have noticed she was missing (yet, at least), while she had two texts from a number she didn’t recognise.

Hi, it’s Jongin, read the first.  Baekhyun thinks I’m a creep because I had to beg your number off him and he’s worried I’m hitting on you.  You’re probably already aware of these, but in case not, I think you ought to know about these.

It was followed by a second text that had eight or nine links to articles about the prince and a mystery girl on a Valentine’s date.

Also, I thought you said you weren’t dating him?! Jongin had written at the bottom.

Yeonhee hesitated for a moment before writing back I wasn’t.

The response came literally seconds after she saved his name to her phonebook.

From: Jongin, 8.02

YOU MEAN RIGHT NOW YOU ARE????!

The member of staff who’d been showing her where to go bade her a good day, distracting Yeonhee from the dilemma of what to reply to Jongin – which wasn’t so much the problem of whether she was telling him a lie so much as it was the issue of what kind of relationship she wanted with the prince.  It wasn’t something she could blithely wander into based on feelings: more than with any other person she could possibly have a romance with, this had to be a conscious choice, and she had to be sensible about it.  If she wanted to say yes, she had to accept the unpleasantness and stress that would come with it.  If it got too much for her, then it would get too much for her, but he had given her warning and she had already had a little taster of it.  There was no way of knowing exactly what she might be getting herself in for, but one thing was certain: like any relationship, she would be an idiot to think it would be one-hundred percent bliss.

If she said no, she would have to deal with the consequences of that as well, but unless somebody managed to figure out who she was from the photos, life would probably be more normal.

She exhaled, wondering what to type back.

Luhan’s office door clicked open and Min walked out.

“Good morning!” he sa