Sejeong has seen paintings of the princess, she’s heard the whispers about just how beautiful she is.

And yet she’s nowhere near ready enough when she finally sees her.

Sejeong has been training for this position all her life.  The princess’ personal assistant.  

Sejeong has learned all kinds of things, the princess favorites foods and how to cook them, the proper way to dress her in her robes and all the appropriate knots to keep the silk in place, just the right way to break a neck and neatly plunge a dagger in a man’s back.

To most, Sejeong is nothing more than a glorified servant, they don’t know of all the ways she can dispose of them with total ease should they ever decide to get in her way.

Sejeong holds her breath when a servant stops in front of the princess’ chambers, knocking and pushing the door open when the princess voices her approval.  The younger servant ducks out with a low bow, leaving Sejeong on the threshold, having to step in on her own.

The princess is halfway in her robes, long hair sweeping past her lower back, cascading in waves of dark brown.

Sejeong bows, out of habit, swallows nervously when the princess turns fully to look at her, eyes focused on her, measuring her up.

Of course Sejeong knows the princess is beautiful, everyone under the empire knows, news of marriage proposals coming to them since the princess was fourteen.

She has soft eyes, Sejeong notices, doe like, eyelashes long and fanning out daintily.  The bridge of her nose definitely royal, strong, mouth small but lips plush and delicate, a shade of pink that Sejeong has only seen on cherry blossoms.

“Princess,” Sejeong finally speaks, word stuttering with her nerves, “you should not have dressed yourself.”

The princess looks down at her robes, ribbons tied around her, “I can dress myself,” she says, voice soft, a bit lower than Sejeong had expected, “you don’t have to do these sorts of things.”

Sejeong takes a step forward, catches a flash of the princess’ legs as she shifts, skin pale, curving softly over her calf.  Her stomach twists into itself with the flash of skin, heat rushing up her body.  She realizes the door is open and that the princess isn’t in an entirely decent state.  She turns, closes the doors to the room heavily.

“I am Kim Sejeong,” she says as she walks towards the princess, “you will be under my care from now on.”

The princess turns away from her again, carefully undoing a knot and starting over, “I am Princess Han Haebin,” she says slowly, eyebrows creasing as she once again undoes her knot, “I haven’t seen you before,” she drops her hands, gives up, “have you been training in the mountains?”

Sejeong nods, taking careful steps, unsure on how close she can get to the princess, hands rising when she’s close enough, picking up the ribbons, “I was born on the compound.”

The princess nods, gaze dropping to where Sejeong’s hands have began to tie a knot, movements short but strong, jostling her a bit.

“You’re a bit rough,” the princess says, slowly.

Sejeong stills, looking up, flinching when her eyes meet the other’s, “I apologize, your highness.”

The princess doesn’t say anything to that, instead motions for her to continue dressing her, gaze dropping to watch just what Sejeong is doing.

Sejeong has trained for many kinds of scenarios, has been taught to think and analyze under all kinds of pressure, but the way the princess looks at her, eyes soft, gaze unrelenting, she feels like breaking any minute now.

“Thank you, Sejeong,” the princess says as she steps away, done, “I am going to the kitchen, you can come with me if you’d like.”

Sejeong doesn’t hesitate, says, “It is my duty to be with you at all times, your highness.”

-

There’s a plate of peeled oranges presented to the princess as soon as she steps into the workers’ kitchen, Sejeong watches as she splits one into wedges, biting into one, chewing thoughtfully.

A girl around their age steps towards them, sliding another plate full of of cakes towards the princess.

“Princes Haebin,” she says, smiling, “you’re late.”

The princess pouts, dropping the orange back on the plate, “I had some troubles with my robes.”

“What are those?” Sejeong interrupts, pointing at the cakes.  

The girls turns to look at her, “tea cakes, the princess’ favorites,” she places a hand on her hip, pushing back the shorts strands of her hair that fall away from where she’s gather it in a bun, “who are you?”

“This is Kim Sejeong,” the princess says, reaching for a cake, “she’s my newly appointed assistant.”

“I’m Mimi,”  the girl bows, “I’m a cook here.”

Princess Haebin eats a few of the cakes, smiles when another cook pours her a cup of tea.  She doesn’t talk much.  She rises moments later, servants bowing to her as she goes back to her room.

Sejeong closes the doors again, stands, unsure, by the door.

“Bring me a parasol,” she says, “I want to take a walk around the gardens.”

-

Sejeong still has dreams of the princess under the beams of sunlight.  Light haloing around her, shining in her eyes, smile happy, unrestrained as she had looked at the flowers in bloom.

Sejeong steps into her room, a small space attached to the princess’s own larger chamber.

It’s been months since she first had been summoned and yet Princess Haebin still catches her off guard.

The princess calls for her, voice soft as always.  When Sejeong steps into the room she knows that the princess will not be in her usual attire, she’s caught glimpses of her in different states of undress but like always, the promise of flashes of skin makes Sejeong’s throat go dry.

“Help me get rid of all these layers,” the princess murmurs, fingers already working on the first sash.

It’s the first time the princess asks her to do this, no matter how much Sejeong has made herself present and eager to help, the princess barely asks much of her.  Sejeong follows her wherever she might please to go, sits in on her lessons and conversations but has barely done any of her lower duties.  

Sejeong walks closer, hands already out to help push fabric out of the way.  The silks and cottons of her robes are soft, luxurious under her fingertips.  She pushes the skirts away, the folds of fabric that wrap around her body, adding volume.  Sejeong notes, just how much smaller the princess looks after layer after layer peels away from her.  

Sejeong feels the way her cheeks flush a little, with all the layers gone the princess doesn’t have much to cover her, underclothes just as soft and well made as her outer robes.

“You can go now,” the princes says, quietly, “I can do the rest on my own.”

Sejeong nods, bows down to pick up the clothing, “I’ll put these away,” she says, swallowing to keep her voice from catching in , “sleep well, princess.”

-

Sejeong likes to think that the dreams are because she’s so dedicated to her duties.  So eager to serve and protect the princess that even in her dreams all she sees is her.

She wakes up everyday, before the sun rises, her room dark, the princess still in slumber.  

She should feel shame, when she dresses, goes into the princess’ chambers and wakes her up, the dreams of her floating away.

Dreams of soft, pale skin, the sweetness of pink lips, she pretends they don’t happen, pretends that when she attempts to call her out of sleep that all she sees is her responsibility to the princess, to the empire.

Princess Haebin always rouses out of sleep with difficulty, Sejeong spends a good amount of time jostling her, calling her name softly, begging for her to get up.

The sheets cover most of her, tangled around her body, Sejeong doesn’t bother peeling them back, dreads what she will find under them.

“Princess,” Sejeong whispers, the light of the flickering candles flooding the room in an orange glow, “wake up, today you have a music lesson.”

“Alright, alright,” the princess wakes enough to move away from Sejeong’s hands, “I’m awake, bring out my robes.”

Sejeong does just that, reaching for the outfit the princess had decided on the previous night.  She walks back into the room, not surprised when the princess is still in bed.

“Princess,” Sejeong calls, a bit louder now, “I’ll step out for you to change your under clothes.  Please get up, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Sejeong finishes dressing quickly, listening as the princess finally gets up, footsteps light.  

Sejeong knows she’s supposed to help the princess at all times, but Sejeong has been quick to catch on and follow the princess’ limits.  There seems to be a line not to be crossed when it comes to the princess undressing, Sejeong is careful not to step over it, no matter where her thoughts race to or how much her eyes catch on the small flashes of skin the princess is unaware of.

-

Sejeong is called for during the princess’ music lesson.  She looks one last time as the princess plucks at strings with delicate fingers, smiling when her instructor compliments her.

She steps into an empty room, full of scrolls, bound up pages.  

“The queen sends this request,” a servant steps into the room, carrying a message.

Sejeong reaches for it, bows when the servant does so as well, stepping away.

There’s a gathering two days from now, the queen has trusted her to pick up the princess’ new robes.

Sejeong can do this, is eager to step out of the palace, do something besides standing quietly.

-

Sejeong places the new clothing on the princess’ bed, watches as she reaches for it, smile small.

“Mother knows what colors suit me best,” the princess says, softly, hands running to the deep blue of her robes.

Sejeong has never seen such a rich indigo, knows it must have been expensive to get it done with that cloth.

“Will you dress up as well?” the princess asks, looking up at her.

Sejeong shakes her head, can’t keep back the small laugh that escapes her, “an event like that is for people like your highness.”

The princess sits up, eyes suddenly questioning, “you’re supposed to be with me at all times, no?”

Sejeong flinches with those words, unsure on how to answer.

“You have dress robes, right?” the princess asks, Sejeong nods, “wear them for this.”

Sejeong nods after a beat of silence, “of course, your highness.”

-

Princess Haebin calls her to help her dress in her new robes.  The pale pinks go perfectly with her pale skin, the dark blue jarring in comparison.

“You look beautiful,” Sejeong whispers, awed.

The princess smiles at her, shy, eyes downcast, “Mother knows what colors suit me,” she insists.

Sejeong finds a fine tooth comb on the princess’ vanity, gold with precious jewels embedded.

The princess sits still as Sejeong runs it through the long strands of her hair, gathering on top of her head, arranging it neatly around an ornate silver pin.

“You aren’t dressed,” the princess says between the still air, Sejeong’s hands still pinning up her hair.

“I will,” Sejeong promises, “but you are my priority.”

The princess begins to shy away when Sejeong brings out her paints.  The princess has a small collection but the colors are expensive to get, Sejeong holds her by the wrist.

“Your mother and father spent money on this whole thing, it will please them,” it’s the first time Sejeong has spoken to the princess like this, voice stern, she holds on tighter when she thinks the reaction won’t go well but the princess merely slumps, lets herself be pulled closer.

Sejeong tries to be gentle with her brushing and patting, carefully applying color to the other’s face, cheeks, lips.

“You look like a princess,” Sejeong says when she’s done, freezing when her words hit her.

Princess Haebin smiles at her, a smile Sejeong has never seen, skirting on playful, “have I not looked like a princess before?”

She’s not sure how to respond, like most things she has learned while taking care of the princess, it feels as if all her training has gone to waste when all she can do is open in silent protest.

The princess laughs, stands up.

In her new robes, hair and face done she looks absolutely regal, completely out of Sejeong’s realm of being.

“Let’s meet at the gathering.”

-

Sejeong keeps herself to the edges of the room, eyes always following the princess, bowing when people approach her, never letting her attention stray too long away from her charge.

Princess Haebin moves around the room, smiling easily, eyes pretty with it, voice carrying through in its gentle register.  

She gets pulled around between guests, people eager to listen to her, to look at her.  

Sejeong understands the feeling completely.  

Between the talking, food, music and drinks Sejeong follows as the princess walks away from the crowd.

She follows behind her, quietly, unsure why she doesn’t let herself be known.  The princess walks towards the kitchen, Sejeong can’t understand why when all the food being served at the gathering looks delicious and worthy of her highness.

Haebin stops at the entrance of the kitchen, Sejeong stops a couple of steps away, around the corner of the wall.

She can’t see what the princess is looking at, why her eyes have gone wide, she she takes a step back, turning almost too quickly, but Sejeong’s reflexes are nothing but sharp, she ducks away, watches as the princess goes back to the guests.

The rest of the party is only a mere fraction of what it was before.  The princess still smiles, makes conversation, at one point she plays a song for the guests, gets loud claps and compliments.  But her smile is a bit forced, Sejeong knows it is.  And when no one is looking her expression etches into something turbulent, teeth worrying into her bottom lip.

Sejeong doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move away from the fringes of the room.  She bows and smiles when needed but never stops looking at the princess.

-

The princess is quiet as Sejeong undoes her hair, pulling out the pins in her hair, dropping them on the bed, hair falling gently.  She doesn’t say anything as Sejeong brings out a bowl of warm water, reaching for the piece of cloth floating inside it, wring it before wiping carefully at her face.

It’s quiet, as it always is when the princess calls her in to help her get ready for sleep.  Tonight it feels different as she washes away the color of her lips, as her eyes notice the curls in her hair.  Her hands slow and measured as they undo the first layers of her robes, pushing away at the stiff cloth.

It’s familiar, something she does every night, enough that her body falls easily into the movements.  She’s almost down to the last layers, is ready to hear the princess send her away, she slows her movements, wants to draw her time out.

“Sejeong,” the princess finally speaks, in her silk underclothes, face covered with the glow of the candles, “have you ever kissed someone?”

Sejeong stops her movements, she’s entirely too close to the princess, can feel the warmness from the other’s body.

She nods quickly, hoping to push away the conversation before it blossoms into something Sejeong has not been trained to handle.

“Show me,” the princess demands, voice steady but her eyes wavering, nervous.

It’s probably how many of her dreams start, Sejeong thinks.  The princess in thin silk undergarments, held only by one knot.  Close enough that Sejeong can see dots of green speckling in the brown of the princess’ eyes, eyelashes blinking prettily.  The princess asking for a kiss that Sejeong will never admit she has been ready to give since the first day they met.

“I...do not think it’s appropriate,” Sejeong says, taking a step back, away from the danger.

“Were you taught to deny my requests?” the princess doesn’t hesitate to ask, taking a step forward, undoing Sejeong’s attempts, “is your job not to please me as well as protect me?”

A part of Sejeong, the logical part of her, knows this has something to do with what the princess had seen in the kitchen, a kiss between workers, perhaps.

“This does not fall under my duties,” Sejeong tries again, offering a nervous smile.

“It does if it is what I want,” Princess Haebin steps in closer.

Sejeong doesn’t move back, “has the princess ever kissed anyone?”

A hand reaches for her wrist, pulls her a bit closer, “not yet.”

They kiss under the flickering of the candles.  Sejeong lets herself be pulled closer, closes her eyes when the princess leans closer, eyes already closed, head tilted.  Her lips are as soft as Sejeong knew they would be, yielding under her lips as they had under her brush.  She tastes like the fruits served at the party, sweet and curt.

Even so she’s afraid to cross a line, hands limp at her sides, lips pressed close, their kiss just a whisper of sliding lips, chaste, new.

Like a first kiss.

They kiss for what feels eternities, Sejeong holds on, jaw aching, air rushing out of her lungs.  Eventually the princess pulls away, just enough to take a deep breath, still close enough to drop her head on the curve meeting Sejeong’s shoulder and neck, breaths shuddering with the effort to regain air in her lungs.

Sejeong doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move.

The princess murmurs something, a tickling feeling against Sejeong’s skin.

“Is your highness pleased?” Sejeong asks, voice breaking.

There’s a lot of answers she could get, she expects every single one, displaced anger, confusion, nothing.

Instead she gets a kiss where the princess’ lips have landed in their embrace, “I am for now.”