Chaewon is thirteen when revolution waltzes through her home and drags her family to a grave. She survives - with the help of a little maid, a girl her age whose name she never catched but whose face was the prettiest thing she had ever seen -, but when she tries to get on the train with her friends/ladies in waiting (Sooyoung and Jiwoo, whose faces were tinted with worry), Chaewon wasn’t able, falling in the middle of a roaring crowd, fingers grasping tightly onto a little butterfly medallion. She heard the sound of something heavy falling on the ground, but…

She hits her head, and wakes up with no memory whatsoever, sitting up suddenly in a bed that does not feel like her own (like she’d know, anyway), and with three girls staring at her. Two are blonde. One is not. Tall blonde is the first to rise, saying something about tea, and other blonde retorts something about not exploding the kitchen when she tripped, which just made… Who the hell was she, anyway?

“Are you alright?” Asks the only not blonde in this entire room, and she is the youngest of all of them, she just knows it. “We found you freezing in an alley, so we…”

“We…?” She asks, and the girl catches herself, surprise clear as day in her face. “Oh! Sure. I’m Yerim, and this is Jungeun, and the one who just left is Jinsol.”

“Hi.” Jungeun says, nodding quickly and rising. “Well, that done, I’m going to see if Jinsol isn’t going to burn down the kitchen.”

“That only happened once!” Jinsol retorts, voice distant, and Jungeun snickers at that, leaving.

Only Yerim and herself stay in that room, and she puts a strand of her hair - the color puts her off a little; wasn’t it dyed blonde, before? She had thought... - behind her room, and Yerim clears .

“Anyway, who might you be? Also, sorry about your hair, the soldiers were looking for someone with blonde hair and we were kind of desperate. You really don’t want the soldiers butting in in your life.” Yerim shrugged, passing a hand through her own hair - brown, long, pretty.

She considers the question for a moment. Who is she? She struggles to remember anything, and the flash of a blue butterfly hits her eyes - raising her hand, she looks for the medallion, and panics a little when she doesn’t find it.

Yerim, as if sensing it, took it from her pocket, handing to her; and she grabbed it, relief flooding her veins, and she cradled it in her hands, the weight familiar.

“It’s a nice medallion,” Yerim tries, and she nods, quiet. She turned it over her hands, noticing a small inscription on the back - together always, yves chuu go won -, and she remembers, almost by instinct, the sly smile of Yves and the sweet voice of Chuu.

As such, she must be…

“I think my name is Go Won.” Go Won says, and Yerim laughs, at the same time Jungeun and Jinsol enter - she knows they enter, because Jinsol lets the tea fall to the floor, making Jungeun hiss, cursing.

“How do you think your name may be something?!” Jungeun says, hands on her hips, and Yerim smiles a little. “That’s something you should just… Know !”

“We did find her with blood around her head…” Yerim mused, and Jungeun, pausing for a moment, nodded. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Go Won.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you three as well.” She replies, smiling. They seem like good people, and Go Won doesn’t mind, even if they make her heart ache, as she watches the three interact.

They remind her of Yves and Chuu and herself, but no memories come to mind - only feelings.

Five years pass on the blink of an eye, and Go Won - who got a job in a little teahouse, serving people with Yerim, while Jungeun and Jinsol got jobs on things they don’t speak much about; Go Won wonders if they are intelligence workers, but with the way Jinsol is a disaster, it’s probably not. They were probably working in a factory.

She doesn’t remember much of who she was before the revolution, just snippets - Yves, Chuu, the medallion, a little girl who helped her, and the glittering halls of some place she can’t put a name on.

Go Won also remembers she was to meet someone at a bridge, in Paris, but she can’t quite remember who, as well. As such, she saves her hard earned money to get out of the country and go to Paris, but it’s hard. The four of them can barely scrape by, even with their four salaries, but they manage.

“Have you heard, Go Won?” Asks Yerim, and Go Won looks at her. She is busy, sending a particularly ugly look at the kid who spends her afternoons here - Yeojin, if she can recall correctly -, and when she shakes her head, Yerim continues speaking. She even leans in to do so, which tells Go Won this is some sort of forbidden talk. Perhaps she doesn’t trust Yeojin? “The girl who does passports is back in town. It’s your chance!”

There was someone like that, in their city? Well, it was a big city, but still. She would have thought the soldiers would have caught this girl before. They roamed the streets so frequently, after all, looking for some blonde princess or another. Not like Go Won would know, though; she had black hair, and didn’t get a second look.

“Is she?” Go Won whispers, and Yerim simply nods. This may be her chance - she does have a little money to spare; it might be enough, and they both are aware of it. “Where is she?”

“In the old palace, by the river. Her name is Heejin.” Yerim replied, at the same time Yeojin let out a small scream, distracting them from their distraction. “Hey, Yeojin, shouldn’t you be in school?”

“No…?” Yeojin tried, and Yerim stared at her. “Come on, they weren’t even going to teach anything important today!”

“And how do you know? You didn’t go!” Yerim replied, and looked at Go Won, who put her hands on her chest, fingers touching the vague shape of the butterfly medallion, hidden beneath her clothes. Yerim winked, and her shoulders relaxed a little. “Go Won, do me a favor and leave for today, okay? Go home, I’m going to see if I can talk through Yeojin’s thick skull.”

She simply nodded, untying her apron and putting on its hook, going to the back to pick her things up, hearing Yeojin and Yerim screaming about school. With a giggle, grabbing her butterfly medallion between her fingers, Go Won decided she was going to the old palace.

It was a pretty old place, she supposed - from a time long before the revolution, bigger than anyone else's houses, but she guessed that was royalty for you. Go Won was sure they had better heating, and the place had been abandoned since the revolution, its windows and doors boarded up, allowing no entrance.

Well, that was the intent , anyway. She found a little window that had a gap big enough for her to pass, and as such, she did, falling inside a ballroom, the golden paint that permeated the room chipping in places, a long stairwell with its carpet stained in a dark brown, a chandelier fallen laying in the ground, its crystals scattered about, and the other seemingly about to fall, as well. It was oddly comforting, that ballroom, like somewhere she used to play a long time ago. Go Won didn’t know why, but she felt right at home, inside the palace.

It had been only five years, and yet, the ballroom had fallen into such disrepair. With a sigh, she sat on the stairwell, avoiding the brown spot on the carpet, and put her elbows on her knees, sighing.

That ballroom probably held so many balls, during its golden period. She could almost imagine it - people dressed to the nines, sweet music playing around, the smell of food in the air, laughter permeating the room, echoing around.

Rising up, not registering what she was doing, humming a barely forgotten melody, Go Won allowed herself to pretend she was royalty, in her best white dress, dancing with no one - no, not with no one; she could see, just behind her eyelids, Yves and Chuu, dancing with her, giggling as they went around in circles, holding hands. It almost felt real - like she could just extend a hand and touch Yves or Chuu, like they were there, by her side.

They probably were, once upon a time, but again, Go Won had no idea who they were, or where they were. There was a big chance they were dead; the revolution was not gentle and merciful, after all.

“Who’s there?” Asked a voice - familiar, if just a bit; Go Won would have to strain to remember, through the fog of her lack of memories -, and she opened her eyes, realizing that no, she wasn’t in a royal ball, and she was just an amnesiac no one that was very much trespassing on government property. She made a motion to run, looking back just enough to catch a glimpse of the girl calling to her: she had black hair in a bun, dressed as if she had just returned from travels, wearing a white dress, the collar in a soft blue, long boots with high heels, and what looked like a leather jacket, with matching black boots, like those of a soldier, but she didn't seem like one.

She was the prettiest girl Go Won had ever seen, and that made her stop, in front of a painting she hadn’t been able to properly look, one hand in the handrail.

“Are you…” Go Won struggled to remember the name, still half-stuck in her daydream of a ball. “Heejin?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” The girl said, offering a step forward. “Might I enquire?”

“I’d like a passport.” It was Go Won’s turn to give a step forward, allowing herself to feel hope, and Heejin, for a brief moment, makes a bewildered expression, before schooling her face back into careful neutrality. “I want to go to Paris, but…”

“But they won’t give passports to anyone, I know.” She replied, and covers the little distance between them with six carefully measured steps. “I’m Heejin. Your name would be…?”

“Go Won.” At this, Heejin offers a silent look to her, and then to the painting behind her. It’s an incredule look, and Heejin approached a little more, circling her with a watchful eye.

“Just Go Won? No surname?” Heejin asked, putting a hand in Go Won’s shoulder for a moment, before keeping her walk in circles.

There was a little bunny pin on the lapel of her jacket, Go Won noticed. It gave her a cute air.

“Well, no. I lost my memories, so I don’t quite recall anything but my name…” She touched the place where the medallion was, noticing that Heejin had a smile on her face. “That’s… Quite the story, as well.”

Heejin simply nodded, as if she believed her. Go Won hoped so, at least.

“Alright, then, Go Won. I have a ticket to Paris, but…” She was sheepish, and it was cute. Go Won offered a small smile, nervously wondering what that but could mean.

“But…?” What could be the condition on this, that made Heejin hesitate? Would it be something illegal? More illegal than faking a passport?

Was it murder? Was Go Won going to have to murder someone?

“Well, you see… I already have a ready-made fake passport, but it’s for princess Chaewon.” At this, she took from her pocket a passport, the golden star in the front making her nauseous for a moment, before her stomach settled.

She had heard the rumours of princess Chaewon having survived the revolution; it was said she was a pretty little blonde girl, barely thirteen, who was supposed to have been killed with her family, was alive, and that her two ladies in waiting who had been with her that fateful night were waiting for her in Paris, offering quite the reward if someone brought princess Chaewon.

Go Won thought that it was impossible. No one survived the death squads.

Heejin stopped in front of her, and seemed satisfied with something that Go Won didn’t quite understand.

“You see, her ladies in waiting are looking for her, and you know, you could come with me, and pretend to be the princess! They are in Paris, and you want to go to Paris! Two birds, one stone, you know?” Heejin said, cheery, hands on her hips. Go Won, meanwhile...

“Yes, well, but I’m… I’m not her.” At that, Heejin offered a guffaw that made Go Won change the weight of her body nervously from one feet to another, stepping back a little. “And besides, isn’t she very much dead?”

“If the way the soldiers roam around say anything…” Heejin mused, looking to the painting behind Go Won, and back to her. “Anyway, you don’t want to be princess Chaewon, right?”

“Yes…?” Go Won replied, and Heejin smiled, neutral and polite.

“Well, okay. Then it’ll be expensive, for a passport and ticket. I’ll see how much money I’ll need, but let me warn you, it’s not cheap. But you know , if you ever feel like pretending…” And, with that, Heejin turned, leaving, slowly walking down the stairs, leaving Go Won behind with no other words.

How expensive could it be? She had some savings, but… But lying to people felt wrong. She wasn’t going to…

Well.

“How much?” She asked, and Heejin didn’t even stop, saying a number that was bigger than anything Go Won - no, scratch that, the four of them could save during their entire lifetimes.

Maybe pretending wasn’t that bad. Besides, the ladies in waiting were probably just going to take one look at her and tell her to go away, right? And then, she’d be free to find Yves and Chuu. Wherever they were.

“I think I can pretend.” She said, and Heejin stopped, turning on her heels. “I mean, I’m not exactly princess material, right? So they’re just going to, you know…”

Go Won made a vague motion to her patched up clothes, and Heejin approached in quick steps, grabbing Go Won’s hands. They were… Very warm. And Heejin was really close, too - she had so many eyelashes…

“Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic, Go Won, thank you so much!” She seemed so happy, and Go Won felt a little less bad about lying to some poor ladies in waiting. “Great! Alright, can you meet me here in… Three days time? It’ll give you enough time to say your goodbyes and all.”

So soon? Something in Go Won’s face must have shown, because Heejin simply offered a soft smile.

“The faster, the better, dear. Playing around will make secrets leak.” Heejin grasped tighter at her hands, before letting go. “Alright, fantastic. See you soon, princess.”

With that, Heejin left, and Go Won was so stunned at being called a princess she barely had time to react.

“I’m not..!” She said, voice half trembling, but Heejin didn’t seem to have heard it, slipping through a side door. She was almost sure she saw the other girl’s shoulders trembling with laughter, but it may have been a trick of the light.

With a sigh, she passed a hand through her hair, and decided it was time to head home for the night. If these were to be her last days with her friends, then so be it.