...

When we met first and loved, I did not build

Upon the event with marble. Could it mean

To last, a love set pendulous between

Sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled,

Distrusting every light that seemed to gild

The onward path, and feared to overlean

A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

And strong since then, I think that God has willed

A still renewable fear . . . O love, O troth . . .

Lest these enclaspèd hands should never hold,

This mutual kiss drop down between us both

As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold,

And Love be false! if he, to keep one oath,

Must lose one joy, by his life's star foretold.

...

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, The Sonnets from the Portuguese, XXXVI,

 

…

 

“Will you be okay while I am gone, Princess?”

Yoongi tenderly whispers, gazing at Seungwan with soft, loving eyes as his calloused palm cups her porcelain, rosy cheeks. She glances timidly at him, feeling suddenly vulnerable and defenseless at his intimate proximity, before breaking out in a reserved smile.

“There is no need to worry so much, love. You know how much I am protected around the palace walls - I cannot even leave anywhere without a companion.” Seungwan interlaces her fingers against his brushes against her face, the faint cold chill of his scarred fingers against her warmth gave her such ease, such comfort - yet she was afraid this was not going to last.
 

Growing up in the palace, the pendulum always swings as things never last and as they seem. What is now is what it is yet you cannot say the same for tomorrow and what the distant future brings, but Seungwan knows she cannot show even a minuscule of the intelligence she possesses.

To her - ignorance is her weapon. Her indoctrination, her wide-spread lie that makes everyone around her believe she is a weak pawn being pushed around in their games, yet they forget that she is the ultimate player, the master puppeteer in her own playing field.

Her ivory dresser is covered in scratches from the spines and pointed edges of the novels and volumes she spends night and day drowning and immersing herself in. She shared her mother’s clandestine abiding pursuit of knowledge and wisdom, yet hid the same intellect and perception with doe eyes and painted lips decorated in jewels and adornments deflecting from their true weapon. They forgot she is as much as her father’s daughter she is her mother’s-  but the illusion of weakness is all her own.

Schemes and conspiracies have been stacked against her since birth, as pointed edges, liquidated poison, and malicious misinformation flying left and right have turned rhythmic and habitual it doesn’t even phase her.

A previous attempt was made to take her life in which hooded assassins veiled in clouded calligraphy rushed in her manors with sharpened spears and blades, yet all the public ever knows about the enigmatic circumstance that the failed slayers numb bodies mercilessly lay against the ground in their own cold blood and wounds while the princess remained untouched by even a hair on her head. No other armed soldier or witness can be named in intervening the situation.

    He snickers in defeat, shaking his head a tired laugh shifting his clinical features with glimpses of amusement and acceptance. Clutching his muscular shoulders as she reciprocates his light retort, Yoongi fondles his thumb and index finger around her chin before reaching forward to press a placid, delicate graze against her lips.

The late morning light filters through the dyed paper screen, bleeding a fusion of orange and red as it was supported by the jute panels that held up the palanquin held up by dozens of armed soldiers and knights that carried the couple gripping bamboo carrying poles.

    “In fact, Lord Min - It should be you I am worried about- I am only doing charity work with our city’s most beloved people while you are crossing the most turbulent seas of the kingdom dealing with dangerous affairs.” Seungwan scolds him playfully, pouting her lips in disapproval as she fiddles with his golden embroidered collar.

    “My future wife, my future Lady Min - she never fails to outsmart me, doesn’t she?” Yoongi responds acceptably, massaging his fingers against the silk of her mauve jacket before pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead.

    “I want you to promise me one thing, Yoongi. I ask that you return to me safely, nothing else- There is no need to repeat the same unnecessary expenses you have spoiled me the last time you had travelled East-”
 

    “Unnecessary? My Princess, I know how much you adore the gifts I give you, and how beautiful you look with what I had gotten with only you in mind. The love of my life deserves nothing but the best, my love. I hope you are satisfied with what I am giving you-”

    “There is no need for material or substantial things for you to prove your love for me, my love- You always shower me with more love with how well you treat me. All I wish is for you to return to me so we can be happy together as always, right?” She wraps her hands around his much larger ones, caressing gentle circles around his bruised knuckles.

Seungwan is no fool to know their betrothal from a young age was no mere coincidence. She knows that as the only daughter and princess of royal rank in the kingdom, her marriage is only means of her father to extend and maintain their domain across the noble families to maintain their domination and dynasty. Naturally, her father the king had graciously invited the Min dynasty’s mogul the hand of the newborn princess to his young heir, who accepted without hesitation or concerns.

The satisfaction and appearance of a wife was an indicator of the status and capabilities of her husband and his family, and how she was treated was mostly to prove her new family’s prestige in society.
 

Her father the King was the youngest son among several dozen, as her grandfather had many wives, concubines and mistresses that carried his blood through his numerous offspring. The brothers turned against one another in greed and avarice for power, dividing the country in a civil war that left the kingdom in devastation.

The bloodshed and brutality that the war left in the kingdom after its conflicts ceased have stained so profoundly that it was rumoured that some abandoned tower houses south of the capital that were inhabited still had fresh blood dripping from its walls.

None of the brothers, uncles and cousins who fought for a claim to the throne as the next heir had lived- which meant their youngest brother whose only joy lay in hunting and travelling remained the victor whose head the crown was upon.

The new King had no intimate or direct relatives left to trust or confide in, with only victorious nobles and aristocrats who had fought for the right side, switched when the result was clear or opted out completely. He longed for the company of his youngest sister - his only true born sister from their lowly mother, the daughter of a merchant, yet all he remembered of her was the image of her dying with roses and lilies in her hair.

When Seungwan was born, her father had an unspoken fondness and sadness in his tear filled eyes as she reminded him of his late sister, and wanted only the best for his daughter that her aunt’s fate will not repeat in her lifetime.

As the only princess, it was anticipated she would be tied off to the wealthiest shipping magnate family who controlled all of the ports on either side of Westeros, and how her connection to the family would help the barren vaults of the kingdom that had depleted during the war.
 

 

Yoongi sighs in defeat, an unheard of piercing grin on his face, before he digs into his velvet pockets, rummaging to find an indigo velour pouch tied with golden strings that he presents and places in her hands.

    “Alright, my princess. If that is what makes you happy, it is what I will give you. Yet I want you to accept this simple gift from me. Not one of my most expensive or precious ones, yet it is what is most special to me.” He folds her fingers around the pouch, as she looks confusingly at him before hesitatingly tugging on the string.

She plucks the sterling silver chain swiftly, unveiling a heart-shaped plated necklace dotted with smoothly cut sapphire stones between its crevices and fissures. Unlocking its hook, the locket unveils a painted caricature of a grey-furred fox with a string of blue winter roses strung across its neck.

“Grey Fox? And blue winter roses?’

“The nickname you and the Crown Prince had given me in our youth, princess. The roses? If you think I would ever forget your favourite flowers, I would be a fool.”

Seungwan beams amusedly at the profound thought and symbolism put into the necklace as she held it upwards, examining it carefully as the sun’s rays filtered through and reflected azure hues on the bedecked walls.

“I will keep this dear to my heart and with me always, my love. No matter where you are, I will always have a part of you with me.” She envelopes it in her palm, and presses a closed fist against her heart.

Yoongi can’t help but feel his heart beat faster, fluttering in bliss and affection for the woman he had come to love with all his being and all his entirety. Having grown up in an austere, draconian household where he had barely seen his father nor mother, sentiment and fondness was uncharacteristic of him.

On the eve of his fifth year, he was formally introduced to the caramel haired princess prettily dressed in gold with an immaculate scarlet velvet cape that had met the first brush of winter snow when his eyes caught hers. By the time she smiled, he couldn’t help but toothily grin back as he knew his devotion and infatuation would last a lifetime.
 

    “Would you allow me to do the honours of putting the necklace on you?”

    “Gladly, Yoongi.”

His heart skips another beat as she whispers his name, his real name, for the first time in his memory, and the significance of this simple gesture weighs down on him substantially. She always called him by his formal titles as if they were political allies or at a formal function - Lord Min, or if they were ever in intimate settings : my love, my future husband, my dear, but never just Yoongi.

He picks up the necklace from the warmth of her palms and holds on either side of the cold metal, as she sweeps her loose locks behind her ears and towards the front of her face, revealing the bare curve of her neck and her upper back.

    “For my future wife. For the love of my life. For the sunshine of my life. For the Lady Min.” Yoongi clasps the lock of the necklace before fondly pressing soft kisses on the nape of her neck and her shoulder blades to each statement he breathed into her skin.

She feels heat build up in her cheeks, caught off guard by his advances yet relishing in the affinity and tenderness that no other could see in the feared Lord Min Yoongi. Tugging on the locket and sensing its polished gemstones against her fingers, she leans back and rests her head on his shoulder as she cuddles into his warmth.

    “If only I could stay longer with you before the wedding, my Seungwan.”

    “I wish the same thing too, my love, but we know your duty comes first. Your duty to the best of the kingdom comes first. I know you would feel more disappointed in yourself if you had done otherwise.”

    “You know me too well, my love.”

A serene lull of comfortable silence drowns over them as the clattering of the knights carrying their rickshaw around the city walls fade out over the continuously increasing chatter and ruckus among the common folk the closer they reach the public market and the more they realize who has come to visit them today.

The wooden slide of the panelled windows glides swiftly to reveal the blue veiled knight’s furtive, secretive expression alert the couple curtly.

    “The Grand Princess has arrived at the orphanage, Lord Min.”

She nods affirmatively, sitting upright and detaching herself from her bethrothed’s embrace, straightening any crinkles and lines forming on her immaculate gown. Before she steps out of the palanquin as the panelled doors slide open, Yoongi gently takes her palm and tenderly presses a kiss against her knuckles.

Seungwan couldn’t help but look back and secretly grin as the corners of her eyes wrinkled and the curve of her smile looped upwards. Without looking back, she charges out of the palanquin, assisted by golden armoured knights extending an arm like she was made of porcelain, stepping into the marshy, disheveled streets of King’s Landing.

From the corner of her eye, the palanquin surrounded by heavily armed knights and spearheaded by mounted horses with their magnificent manes blowing in the wind rode away, as her future husband and his forces eventually disappeared into the distance.

“Your Royal Highness, it is with pleasure for your handmaidens and me to accompany you in your selfless act of kindness.” Lady Park Chaeyoung bedazzles in her garnet frock, outlined in glittering silver that complimented her crimson hair pulled up with plated clips of stars, genuflecting respectfully towards the Princess.    

In the absence of Dowager Lady Bae, Lady Park Chaeyoung is next in the chain of seniority among her handmaidens, as the remainder of her aggregation trail orderly behind her. Each lady dressed to the nines, befitting of their factions, houses and association colours that distinguish each different from the other.

    “Thank you, Lady Park. With nothing but the best company with me, I was able to serve my people one last time as their princess. The next time they shall see me, I shall be Lady Min.” Seungwan greets delightedly, tucking her hands in the nook of her elbows as she embraces the lady firmly.

    “We will lead the way for you, Grand Princess. Everything has been prepared for you.” Lady Kim Jennie appears from behind her, the burnished colour of her garment flecked in speckles of gold makes her understated clothing stress her alluring beauty even more.

Leaving the well protected iron gates from the back alley of the district, cheers and mutterings intensify as news and viewings of the Grand Princess spread throughout the slums of King’s Landing.

    “Grand Princess, she has come to visit!”

“Make way for Her Royal Highness!”

“The future Lady Min!”

    “A deity has left from her palace walls to bless us, lowly peasants, with her presence! All hail the Grand Princess!”

Yerim feels the petals of freshly plucked roses forming a kaleidoscope of colours in the bleak district, facing her palms upwards and spreading into the air as the roses brush against her fingers. She closes her eyes with a satisfied smile, enjoying the bliss of scented petals surrounding her, dwindling into the floor length azure taffeta train of her dress.

Persistent taps on her shoulder wake her up from her chimera, feeling the warmth of Lady Park Sooyoung’s bony fingers piercing into her shoulder blades.

    “Careful, Yerim-ah! It won’t do you much of a favour if your head is always in the sky. Just because we’re out of the palace walls doesn’t mean you can keep your guard down!” The elder playfully whacks the blonde in the head, her whispers turning into muffled giggles as the younger rubs the sore spot she was hit on.

    “I’m sorry, Sooyoung-unnie. I just wanted to appreciate something we rarely saw even in the palace.” Yerim apologizes sincerely, slowing the pace of her marching as she interlocks her arms around the redhead's sleeves.

Sooyoung couldn’t help but shake her head with a knowing, entertained smile at Yerim, pleasantly amused with her unabashed lack of knowing things yet still had a pure curiosity and determination within her.

In another life, they could’ve been sisters easily. Maybe if they were on the same faction-  things could’ve been otherwise.

Halting, they arrived towards the open pavilion of the rundown orphanage, supported by brittle, unsteady plaster caryatid that held up a dilapidated, meager ceiling full of ravaging holes with filthy, unclear liquid dripping from every crevice.
 

    “Princess Seungwan-” A disheveled, scrawny child covered in scratches, wounds and scars came in crashing towards the Princess, tangling its squalid fingers around her waist as her tangled, lice infested locks rubbed against her silk clothed torso.

    “Hwayi-ah, we meet again! Remember how I told you I was going to keep my promise that I’ll see you again.”

    “I knew the Princess will always come to save the day!!”

She smiles warmly as she sits beside the young girl, disregarding the grime and feculence unnatural to her upbringing as she intimately surrounds herself among the orphaned children like second nature.

No wonder the people are so charmed and amazed with the Princess - no other noble nor royal lady has assimilated and sympathized with the common folk and brought herself so close to care for them as if they were her own family and friends.

 

Every laugh she made sounded like the serene mermaid that lingered in the Silver River after dawn when the moon was full in the tales they had passed down generation to generation because they had admired the Princess so much.

 

They had initially been so devastated and dismayed on the official announcement of her engagement to the shipping heir Min Yoongi, equipped with his intimidating, feared reputation as a merciless executioner to whoever doesn’t fulfill his expectations, yet she was quick to ease and convince them that she was in good hands and will continue her visits even as a married woman.

    “Lady Jennie, Lady Chaeyoung, Lady Yerim and Lady Sooyoung, kindly distribute the food and resources we have prepared for the children while I continue to read to them.” The Princess requests, slightly looking behind her shoulder yet not diverting her attention from the children who have been anticipatedly looking up at her.

    “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

The noble ladies immediately assemble collectively as they assign tasks and roles to one another, from who will bring which, to where they will be focusing on assisting. Unsurprisingly, the two Park sisters are put together, energetically whispering and fondly giggling in a secret language they only spoke.

    “Lady Yerim, you will be with Lady Jennie in bringing the soup to the children in the southeast wing of the orphanage.”

Certainly, Yerim couldn’t help but sigh defeatedly, amiably glancing with a reserved nod of acknowledgement towards Jennie, who coldly looked away before heading off to the kitchen.

Tangling a wool checked apron around her waist, she tucks her teal voile sleeves up her elbows as she readies herself for the stains and blotches from the food she will serve to the people she will encounter closely.

    “I’ll be honest with you- I don’t enjoy what we’re doing. If it weren’t for the princess, you would never find me at a place like this.” The blonde is surprised to hear the snarky, impatient tone of her cousin, whose grimace is accentuated as Jennie lifts a platter of chicken and bread for the orphanage to consume with outright disgust.

She follows behind her, carrying the bronze tray with grace and confidence, rather content and fulfilled with the beneficial deed she took part in that will help more than what seems.

    “You are doing a selfless, kind act that may seem little to you know, Lady Kim, but it will be forever memorable to these children.” Yerim retorts factually, her head slightly tilting from side to side as she places the platter in front of a bunch of raggedly dressed children, who scavenge the food impatiently yet with gratitude that makes her smile.

Jennie silently agreed with the younger’s statement, her pride prohibiting her from admitting it or acknowledging it properly, as she gave a nonchalant nod before turning away to assist the children with silent dedication.

Hours passed and went as it was nearly noon, with the scorching spring heat b through the roof of the orphanage. Even with the drops of sweat dripping from the Princess’ forehead, she neither complained nor fretted, as she looked even more enthusiastic and contented to be around the children.

She continued to read, play games, sing songs with her heavenly, beguiling voice that stunned them to silence, and danced all types of songs to the playing of the bards she had personally invited to accompany them to tune.

Yerim felt a simple kind of elation around the children, how they thought her hair was weaved with rays sunshine, or how her eyes resembled the green grass their fathers used to till when he was alive. She admired how they found joy and happiness in everything, even when life unexpectedly takes unpleasant turns and they get hurt and cry, but they always find something to learn out it no matter what.

A pale, mute little girl with her dark locks knotted into messy pigtails tugs on Yerim’s pointer fingers, her chubby, petite fingers grasping and excitedly tugging her towards the front of the pavillion.

    “Towards the gates? We can’t go anywhere but here, Inyeon-ah. We don’t want to get lost or leave your friends here, don’t we?” The blonde kneels to her direction, resting her arm around the child’s shoulder with a knowing pout.

Inyeon refuses to back down or change her intentions. She aggressively shakes her head, pulling Yerim towards the front with all her strength, before the elder accompanies the girl.

Towards the cynosure of the hollow pavilion, buzz and chatter starts building up around the curious crowd that build up around the princess as an unexpected visitor has dropped by the orphanage.

    “Jeon Jungkook?” Yerim blurted out in total shock, her emerald eyes aghast and wide open, covered with her hands as she stood there frozen.

Seungwan peers between her handmaiden and Jungkook curiously, unable to connect an immediate relation between the two, but rather inquisitive on how the two had met before when they were from rival factions.

    “So the two of you have met before?” The princess sits up from the cracked marble bench she sat on, closing a yellowing fairy tale book shut that she had been reading to the children shortly before.
 

    “I don’t think so-” Jungkook dubiously denies, before Yerim cuts him off.

    “It’s a long story, Your Royal Highness.”

The children outburst in childlike, boisterous laughter, rolling on the floor, throwing their head forwards and backwards as they seek air from the intense guffaw they had broken out into.

Jungkook avoided eye contact, heat building up his reddening features in embarrassment, as Yerim gripped her fist in determination to leave the situation with her reputation and prestige intact.

    “It is good that the two of you are in good relations then. We need more friendships like this in this kingdom.” Seungwan remarks casually, the hem of the cream lace of her gown grazing against the brown mud beneath her feet as she stands between them cordially with a welcoming grin.

The younger two stood awkwardly, unable to grasp a proper reaction or refer to strict protocol for a circumstance like this that has never been referred to in any curriculum or upbringing.

As attention diverted away from them, Yerim knew it was either fight or flight now - it was time to fly. She turned around and was ready to spurt off as fast as she can, no matter what direction as long as it brought her anywhere but here- but she was too late.

A tight clutch on her wrist halted here from any movement, turning her body to crash aggressively against the muscular chest of Jeon Jungkook.

    “I wanted to talk to you for a moment, Lady Yerim.”

    “I believe there is nothing to talk about, Lord Jungkook. Anything that ever happened between us is past us.”

    “We had a past?”

She cringed in shame and panic, flustered that she had made things sound even worse than ever happened. It was only a kiss. Just a kiss- not her first, but one she would remember and never forget.

    “I- I believe I was intoxicated at the party where we had last met- so the night is rather blurry in my memory, Lady Yerim.”

To be relieved or be worried - she didn’t know what to feel but for him to even vaguely recognize their interaction could’ve been a dangerous thought if left unclear.

    “But it’s not about that night, Lady Yerim that I want to talk about- It’s about-”

Resisting any denial or shame, her eyes fly straight to his in alertness and convinced assumption as she knows there’s nothing else he would be talking about that only they knew about and only she could be the only person from the opposite faction he would be hospitably speaking to.

    “About Seulgi-unnie and Lord Park Jimin,”

    “Y-Yes, about that - I have Jimin-hyung’s letter that he wanted to give Lady Kang about their plans.”

They look around, over their shoulders, behind, left and right, ensuring no other figure would overhear their confidentially critical information- one that could send the kingdom to flames and ruins.

    “It’s good your timing in delivering it on neutral grounds was fitting.” She snarkily rebuts, crossing her arms as her voice dwindles into an even fainter whisper.

    “It’s always neutral territory wherever the Princess is, even when she’s married to that Min scion. “ He retaliates, dipping his fingers deep into his velvet pockets before quickly sneaking in a carefully rolled parchment with a merlot ribbon tied around it into her palms.

Yerim quickly hides the letter into the hidden pocket of her gown, enveloped between its gabardine inserts. Brushing her nervous, sweaty fingers against the brocade material of her gown, she acts nonchalant and aloof that their interaction even happened.

    “Cheers, Lord Jeon. Hope you’re sober again the next time I see you. Until the next letter.”

 

…

 

The thick, warm air blew agitatedly against the fluttering autumn leaves falling onto the pavement, as metal hooves reverberated in contact with the paved granite.

Taking a sharp left turn avoiding an aging, deeply rooted oak tree, Chanyeol smirks victoriously as he leads the cutthroat race towards the finish line by the path of cherry blossoms before the Golden Pavilion where his entourage traditionally gathered.

 

He tightly tugs on the silver lined rope of his prime horse Flight Stallion, the thoroughbred mare that was second best to none with its rosewood pelt and its onyx coiffure that rode majestically to the speed of light.     

    “Here he comes!!” Lord Kim Seokjin exclaims excitedly, clapping amusedly before he takes another swig of his drink.

As the flaxen ribbon of victory comes into his view, Chanyeol feels the adrenaline and rigour build up in his veins as he cries out fiercely before he triples his pace and rides aggressively before the ribbon snaps as his horse whirls to triumph.

    “As of expected, the Crown Prince always manages to outpace us everytime.” Lord Kim Namjoon chirps snarkily, popping another fresh, green grape in his mouth casually.

Closely trailing, Byun Baekhyun and his silver haired mare is seconds away from winning, before being followed by Choi Minho and Kim Jongin respectively tied in a close race.

The finely crafted bow, dyed red rawhide, vibrated hitting bullseye on the circular spot right on ground zero, no more, no less. He releases his unyielding pull on the fine string, softening his fixated expression with a relaxed grin.

    “You should’ve listened to me last time, Minseok. I told you the Prince will always find a way to win.” Joonmyun chirps with an unperturbed shrug, his eyes not wavering away from the perfect shot he made onto the shooting board.

Minseok rolls his eyes defeatedly, sitting up from the silken canary couch to toss a pouch of golden coins into Joonmyun’s palms, confident in his victory of the bet they had made on who would win.

    “Minho lives to win every race he fights, and would not bear being beat by anything else, but for him to be third and tie with my brother? It is so out of character for him.”

    “It must be the little priestess Sulli’s spells on him again perhaps, Minseok-hyung. She must have been very unhappy that their father, Lord Choi had kicked her out of her exorcism room.” Jongdae banters, tossing a cherry into his mouth before breaking out into hooting laughter.

The Crown Prince snickers amusedly at his entourage members as he swings off his mare, petting his horse’s mane before handing him over to the barn warns to take care off.

    “You must be careful about what you say about her, Jongdae- hyung. She might hear you and curse you next.” He chirps in response, before the entirety of the Entourage laughs in the humour of Lady Sulli’s antics.

Minho arrives with a cheeky smile, unaffected by his defeat yet more interested with the intricately laced bottle of fine wine in his hands. Leave it up to Choi Minho to start a party once he brings out the alcohol. All hell breaks loose from here.

    “It would be atypical of us if we do not offer a toast for our Crown Prince here!” Minho said.

Seokjin and Namjoon appear behind him, mischievous grins on their faces as they hold up pristine wine glasses in their hands.

As per tradition, it is the youngest Kim Jongin who has the honours of serving the wine to all the respective members of the Crown Prince’s Entourage. United under the common association as the Crown Prince’s closest confidantes, they furtively set aside factions and political differences for the illusion of solidarity and unanimity.

    “For the Crown Prince!” Minho toasts his glass to the Prince, before they all shout back in unison and chug all their drinks down their throats.

    “For the Crown Prince!”

 

The burn of the aged wine sims down their throat, each releasing a sigh of satisfied relief with the irreplaceable taste of exceptional alcohol tingles on their tongues.

    “Yoongi-hyung would have loved this wine.” Namjoon examines the half-finished drink in his hands, twirling the glass clockwise as he watches the bubbles form on the surface of his glass.

    “We should send him more of this for his wedding feasts then, Namjoon.” Seokjin agrees, before taking another sip of the drink he is clearly enjoying.

A bright look of recognition fires up in Baekhyun’s golden speckled hazel eyes as he gathers among the entourage with a knowing smile.

    “Speaking of marriages, isn’t the Crown Prince going to become next among us to make his way to the altar?”

    “Ah, of course, how could I forget?!” Joonmyun retorts in agreement, closing his eyes in neglecting such a critical moment in the kingdom’s history.

    “I would rather not speak of something that will not happen until much later.” Chanyeol mutters indifferently, not caring or wanting to talk about something he has been wanting to avoid all his life.

Seokjin slings his arm lazily around Chanyeol’s shoulder, a persuasive, trustworthy expression on his features.

“What’s with the sad face, Chanyeol-ah? You will either end up with Lady Park Chaeyoung or Lady Kang Seulgi - two of the most eligible, beautiful and intelligent women in the kingdom?”

“That’s right, Chanyeol hyung! You talk about it like you’ll be married off to ghosts!” Namjoon adds affirmatively, patting him on the shoulder with amiable support.

 

The prince sighs defeatedly, taking another swig of his drink before his entourage around him break out into whines and the pleas of swaying him to take the situation to light.

Truthfully, Chanyeol doesn’t feel this is the best time for him to tie the knot and find himself with a wife and eventually a family to take care off.

He is satisfied enough with his company of young noblemen in the outdoor activities he excels in, as he knows that being a husband and a father is not what he will do best in his life.

 

Even so, he believes he is better prepared to be the king to his people with proper legislation, sympathetic appeasement to both the common folk and the aristocracy, yet for such a personal, intimate commitment so soon is not appealing to him at all.

“What’s so wrong about them anyway? Look at Lady Chaeyoung, my cousin - with such prettiness and beauty enshrined in her red hair - you’ve met her before I’m sure the two of you will get along fine!” Baekhyun assures him confidently.

“Through Lady Seulgi, you’ll be cousins-in-law with Yoongi-hyung! You’ve always wanted to be so close to him, and now this is your chance. We can all finally be related as a happy family.” Seokjin chuckles, heat building up his cheeks as the strength of the alcohol amplifies in his system.

Turning away, Chanyeol gazes across the open garden beneath him, perfectly manicured lawns of pink roses, cobalt hydrangeas, and ivory peonies lined up impeccably. A fond smile forms on his awe-stricken face as a memory he thought he had long forgotten comes back to him just like it was yesterday.

The sweet smell of summer oozes in the warm, brisk air as fresh oranges and tangerines grow from the bushes in time for harvest season.

 As his sister the Grand Princess celebrates her sixteenth birthday, Chanyeol is in his prime at seventeen, having grown nearly a foot over the past few months and had become more muscular and handsome in his adolescence.

 

No matter if the seasons come and go, nor how much time passes- his penchant predilection for his younger sister never faded. In fact, it grew even stronger by each summer that visited the city.

Only a year stood between them, that it almost felt like they were twins separated from birth - who knew each other like the back of their hands and needed no words but just looks and telepathy to communicate.

    “Seungwan-ah, you can’t keep hiding like that! Your guests for your birthday party are coming anytime soon!” He shouts in frustration, hearing only her faint giggles muffled against the mazes of grass walls between them.

    “If they want to see me, they better try to find me!” Heck, he can even see her flashing her tongue in impish pestering from here.

Chanyeol groans impatiently, stomping his newly shined riding boots against the pavement aimlessly, peeking through every interstice and fissure in the sprawling gardens.

Nearly giving up, he is about to give in to defeat until he spots the contour of the white chiffon gown his sister was wearing for her party, outlined by gold trimmed lace and etched with hand embroidery that shined under the sun.

Tugging on the silhouette’s sparkled veil outlined with sparkling stars, he grips her bony shoulders with his firm hands to face her aggressively towards him, only for the figure to fall on him belligerently.

    “You’re not my sister!” He shouts ghastly, looking at the petite girl with light blonde hair and emerald eyes staring back at him with just as much fear.
 

    “Y-Your Royal Highness, I apologize-” Kim Yerim attempts to shift off her weight on top of the Crown Prince’s, shifting her elbow off the ground, yet instead trips over his knees and plants her lips over his.

 

He is petrified in consternation over the warmth of her soft, rosy lips over his, unexpected that such contact would be made with a noble lady he had barely met and had never spoken to. Her golden locks brush against his jawline, as he attempts to gently detach her from him by her waist, feeling the taffeta against his rough fingers.

Immediately, Yerim jumps away from him, nervously fiddling with her palms before straightening out her dress and clumsily bowing towards him.

    “I apologize, Your Royal Highness! Your sister the Grand Princess is waiting for you by the fountain. Lady Kim Yerim excuses herself”

Before he even gets to say anything, the blonde is out of sight, and he is left laughing in consternation and denial of what just happened to him. He brushes his fingertips against his lips, reliving the feeling of her lips against his own.

 

He hasn’t forgotten that feeling since. In fact, he wants to relive it once again if he is given the chance. Too bad he isn’t seventeen anymore, nor is she the same naive thirteen year old girl that she was.

He hasn’t spoken to her since, yet he longs to see her again. At least one last time before his future is sealed off to someone else.  

    “Tell me, Crown Prince - Who have you chosen?”

 

    “Come on, Chanyeol-hyung - It’s just between us, of course!”

Chanyeol is broken out of his trance as the voices of his entourage rings in his ear repeatedly. He turns around with his trademark whimsical, flirtatious smile.

 

    “You’ll see who I’ll choose when it’s time.”
 

…

 

    Yoongi was given a choice. The most perilous, dire choice in his life - to have ended Park Jimin’s life fair and square in front of his dearest cousin or let him be with fear imbedded into his very eyes - he chose the later.

For the past few weeks, he had been unable to sleep, tossing and turning his crumpled bed sheets and throwing around his feathered pillows regretting and fretting over a decision he had already made.

 

If he lived up to his reputation, he would’ve slit his throat with his sharpened blade without remorse. Reminding his cousin of her duty to the faction to marry the Crown Prince and give the Haeyang faction the victory they deserved, but he didn’t. He didn’t.

Why? It wasn’t the desperate pleading of Seulgi and her gripping his forearm with such intensity as tears bled from her bloodshot eyes that made him give in - but the realization of consequences if he had gone through with his original plan.

The idea of him ruining his reputation once the news of Hanyang heir Park Jimin slain on Haeyang territory by the hands of Min Yoongi was a thought he could not bear, or want to hear. Doing so, he would immediately ruin Seulgi’s chance in the running of becoming the future Crown Princess- she’d become an old unmarried spinster forever if he did.
 

 

In his palanquin, he glanced at his valyrian steel sword scabbard in its leather sheath, sliding it out of its pocket and watching the midday light reflect off its polished surface. With it, he was given the power to destroy, to eradicate and instill fear and horror into anyone who crossed him and was his adversary.

Instead, Yoongi threatened the two lovers to end their ties and never acknowledge that any association or meeting had ever occurred.

Of course, they initially refused, uttering that their love was beyond party lines or allegiances, which initiated even more grievance and resentment in Yoongi as he roared at them with fiery eyes, pointing his blade towards the Haeyang heir.

    “It will only make us worse if anyone else knew about your relationship! The fewer people aware of this, the better it is for both sides! Park Jimin, if I see you one more time with my cousin, I will bring you to court myself for treason and trespassing - am I understood?”

Jimin gulped nervously with wide eyes, his palms gripping on Seulgi’s even tighter, before he pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek one last time before jumping off the balcony and running off into the darkness.

Seulgi squirmed in irritation, biting her lips in a failed attempt of hiding her tears, before she started throwing fisted punches towards Yoongi’s direction.

 

    “How could you!? How could you do this to me?!”

    “I did this for your sake, Seul. You’ll thank me for this later.” He turned away, unable to look at her as he tucked his sword aside without remorse or regret. 

 

Yoongi knows his cousin will never forgive him for what he has done, but when it comes to the faction - he’ll do anything to protect the family that had been ripped apart and destroyed by many others so many times before.

They won’t understand now, on why he’s so harsh on them, so selfish and not recognizing his loved one’s pleas and petitions, when he’s doing all of this for them.  

 

He won’t live to see the faction being annihilated another time. He’s had enough.

 

 

...

 

A/N: Thank you guys for your patience and your kindess with dealing with how slow I've updated once school started! I've really enjoyed and relaxed during this break so I'm really luck I get to write a lot more this time! Geez I wanted to at least update before school ended (winter break ended so late for us so do bear with me!) 

 

Please continue to comment, subscribe, upvote and share this story with your friends! I really appreciate your support and feedback as readers. Nonetheless, this is all for you guys (my late Christmas gift let's say lmao) I love every single one of you and grateful for all the love you've shown me. <3 

 

 

Song: "Found You" by JYJ