Being a princess, Hyunjin knows all too well the strains of being proper and formal.

 

She loses her childhood much sooner than the average kid would. When she is six, her parents force her to take piano lessons and classical ballet on top of her usual academics. When she is seven, she is already studying Korean folklore and royal history. When she is ten, she is already aware of the importance of her role and can efficiently grasp four different languages other than her own.

 

All throughout her childhood, the one thing that Hyunjin could find comfort in, the one person that she could let loose around, is the daughter of her personal maid. Her parents has always encouraged their friendship for the future of the girl’s mother being relieved of her duties. While it seems eons away, the maid’s daughter knows that the girl she is friends with will be the person she will be taking care of in the future.

 

Growing up with Hyunjin and being friends with her, Heejin is lucky to have a taste of royal privilege. For the most part, it is because Hyunjin is stubbornly adamant on doing things with Heejin. When she first starts piano lessons, Hyunjin practices the day’s lesson with Heejin by teaching her what she learned mere hours ago. (Heejin remembers how Hyunjin’s fingers stretched more easily across the white keys and how her own smaller hands struggled to reach the next octave). When she is seven, Heejin sits on Hyunjin’s bed while her mother braids Hyunjin’s hair. The younger girl stumbles through reading the difficult text of Korean folklore, but, the stories still intrigues her. (Heejin still remembers the first story Hyunjin read to her. It had been the love story of Gyun Woo and Jik Nyo. Heejin remembers the fascination that bloomed in her and the awe that came from learning about the folklore behind Chilseok).

 

Easily, Heejin is Hyunjin’s best and only friend. The two had spent their toddler years playing together, chasing each other through the acres of the princess’ land, catching the cold together after playing in the rain. For the short years that Hyunjin has the freedom of being a child, Heejin is the one to share them with her.

 

~.~.~

 

In every hallmark of Hyunjin’s life, Heejin is there for all of them. The first time Hyunjin loses a tooth, Heejin is the first person she tells. Heejin remembers the fear that had been in the girl’s eyes.

 

“Tokki! I don’t know what happened! I was just eating bread and then my toof just fell out! And my bread had blood on it!”

 

Heejin had already lost a tooth before and remembered what her mom did to take care of her. Taking Hyunjin’s hand, Heejin leads her to the kitchen and asks one of the women there for a warm glass of water. When she hands her the cup, Heejin’s small hands are careful as not to spill.

 

“Just rinse and you’ll be okay, Aeongie. The tooth fairy’s going to take your tooth and give you something in return. Last time, it left me a bracelet!”

 

Heejin later tells her mother about Hyunjin’s lost tooth and when she wakes Hyunjin up in the morning, the girl’s toothy smile is sporting a cute gap while she waves a bookmark in the air, “The toof fairy gave me a bookmark! I don’t have to search for my spot in my books anymore, Heekkie!”

 

Heejin remembers the time Hyunjin got praised for her performance during her first serious piano examination.

 

Heejin had been waiting for Hyunjin outside of the room where her examination was taking place. Hearing the smooth and flawless playing through the door, Heejin is not surprised to see Hyunjin burst through the door with a smile on her face. (Her lost tooth had already grown in at this point, but, Hyunjin had just lost one of her canines so her smile was still gapped. It’s endlessly endearing how how her smile looks).

 

“Heejin! I did it! Teacher said that I was exceptional!”

 

In her excitement, Hyunjin pulls Heejin into a bear hug and twirls her around, her feet just barely leaving the floor.

 

Heejin knew that Hyunjin was going to be perfect. The girl tried especially hard and carried too much motivation and diligence to perform anything less than perfect.

 

The first time Hyunjin gets seriously scolded, she is thirteen and it is the first time Heejin sees the light in the girl’s eyes dim. The two had been rolling around in the grass, playing around, and watching the clouds roll by while picking petals off of dandelions and coming in far too late for dinner.

 

Heejin can hear through the door. Hyunjin’s mother is more disappointed than she is angry and knowing Hyunjin, the girl is more hurt knowing that her mother was more disappointed than she was angry. (Her mother couldn’t be mad at her daughter for being youthful and free. But, in the position she is in, Hyunjin could not be so reckless anymore and her mother expected her to know by now where her standards lay.)

 

“You’re thirteen now, Hyunjin. You cannot make messes like that anymore. You cannot be anything but punctual. You are going to be the future queen of this kingdom and it is irresponsible of you to come into this castle late for dinner with dirt and grass stains on your dress.”

 

“But, Heejin-”

 

“But, Heejin is not like you, Hyunjin. She does not have a land of people to watch over. She does not carry the responsibility you do. She can afford to mess up and walk outside of the lines. You, however, cannot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and they are like vultures waiting for you to mess up. It is difficult and unfair, but, that is the duty we carry as royals. We must be perfect. We cannot show weakness. Our downfall comes at our vulnerability, Hyunjin.”

 

Heejin might not have the responsibilities Hyunjin has, doesn’t have the eyes scanning her every move—the scrutiny and pressure—but, Hyunjin is her responsibility. Taking care of her, outside of lacing up her corsets and dresses, Hyunjin’s emotional and mental welfare is also her concern. Not as her handmaid, but, as her best friend. That's her greatest responsibility, not taking care of the future heir.

 

It is a great responsibility to bear, but, Heejin takes it without hesitance. She would choose Hyunjin over anything any day.

 

That one lecture changes Hyunjin’s perspective on life. Like a switch, she is more watchful and cautious of her actions, more hesitant to make impulse decisions.

 

(Hyunjin usually loves spontaneity—loves randomly going for a horse ride and dragging Heejin with her, loves playing piano at the odd hours of the morning, and springing trips to the town out of nowhere.

 

Heejin can’t remember the last time Hyunjin made a trip to her favorite bakery without planning it and putting it on her itinerary.)

 

Hyunjin changed that night and Heejin is the first to see it. It’s how Hyunjin asks Heejin to braid her hair instead of leaving it to breeze along with the wind. It’s how Hyunjin spends endless hours at the piano even after teaching Heejin a part of a song she is working on. It’s how Hyunjin walks with her toes up after ballet to ease the pain of practicing point. It’s how Heejin has to wrap the girl’s ankles even tighter with tape.

 

It hurts her to see her friend become cognizant of how cruel the world can be. Heejin wishes she reveled more in the pure innocence and joy that brimmed in Hyunjin’s eyes before that day.

 

As they grow together, Heejin sometimes sees flashes of the little girl who had freedom again, like the time when she forced Hyunjin to play the theme song of Naruto for her. At first, Hyunjin refused to play something so trivial as a television show’s theme song, but, all Heejin had to do was pout and flutter her eyes to get the princess to give in.

 

“Heejin, I will not play the song to please your obsession for this show.”

 

At her refusal, Heejin goes for the girl’s Achilles’ Heel and pouts her lips and softens her eyes to further appeal her case.

 

“Aeongie, please?”

 

Hyunjin just sighs and looks away from the girl’s babyish eyes and pout before pulling her phone out and searching for the sheet music.

 

“You’re lucky you’re you, Tokki. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

 

Heejin yips a small sound of excitement and hugs Hyunjin, nuzzling into her neck. Hyunjin tells her to let go, but, the way her body relaxes into Heejin’s affection and the way the older girl can hear the pianist’s smile only gets her to burrow in even further.

 

(Hyunjin’s soft spot for her is just too easy for her to take advantage of.)

 

Pulling up the sheet music for it, Hyunjin only takes a moment to glance at it before playing. Unsurprisingly, she remembers the piece and plays with ease, but, when Heejin starts humming along to the theme song and mimics the Rasengan move Naruto does, Hyunjin laughs and it’s the one where her canines show and it’s bright and warm and chiming and everything Heejin misses hearing and seeing.

 

If Heejin had to go full weeb again for her best friend to laugh like that again, she would. Capitalizing on the happiness that she sees shining in Hyunjin, Heejin takes the black piano dust cover and folds it half and then in fourths to wrap it around her head like the headband Naruto wears. Hyunjin doesn’t have a hand to cover when she laughs even more.

 

Heejin likes Hyunjin’s dedication to playing the sheet music right. She likes how she can see Hyunjin’s relaxed and free smile. It reminds her of the innocent and excited little girl that would twirl them around in circles on the grass at the courtyard.

 

Hyunjin’s mother is roaming around the castle and the sound of her daughter’s laugh eases her tired heart. Being royal isn’t all lavish and pleasure as it is made out to be. It’s easy to lose one’s self in the pressure of being perfect and the stress of putting a whole kingdom on one’s shoulders. She hates how she had to be the person to heave the weight on her daughter’s shoulder. But, knowing that Hyunjin has Heejin beside her to make her laugh again, she is endlessly grateful for Heejin’s presence in her daughter’s life.

 

Hyunjin had her own responsibilities as everyone else did, but, Hyunjin’s mother thinks Heejin’s has the utmost importance. Taking care of her daughter in all of the ways that Heejin does is a duty that is vitally necessary, not just for their kingdom, but also, for the wellbeing of a mother watching her daughter grow in a constrained home.

 

~.~.~

 

Every summer, the king and queen throw a ball in celebration of the coming of the season. When Hyunjin was young, she enjoyed the occasions because she could meet with fellow princesses in Korea and talk with them. Despite being with her other royal friends, she always wished that the one that got her ready would be there beside her. Instead, Heejin remains in the background and away from the glamour of the ball. Hyunjin never liked that and wished the girl could dress up with her and attend the balls with her—she hated how hiding Heejin away sounds a lot like a secret to be kept and being ashamed of her. Hyunjin could and would never be ashamed of having Heejin beside her. If she could, she would link her arms with Heejin’s to show how proud she is to be good enough to have her in her life. Nevertheless, her affection for Heejin shows to be true when the other princesses around her ask for Heejin’s wellbeing.

 

(Subconsciously, Heejin always leaks her way into Hyunjin’s conversations and despite the girl never being at the balls, Hyunjin’s friends knew the kind of person Heejin was and came to think of her fondly too.)

 

Now, however, at seventeen, the balls her parents hold feels like a horrible night of speed dating. All Hyunjin wants to do is hang out with her friends—and even more with Heejin—and eat way too many hor d'oeuvres, but, it seems like her night is an endless line of princes with the goal of courting her. The older she gets, the more viable she is as a political figure and Hyunjin knows that the incessant attempts at her hand is for the benefit of other kingdoms. (Hyunjin’s mother has been pestering her about it too. Sometimes Hyunjin wishes she could be an average seventeen year old teenager stressing about pimples and finals, but instead, she is dealt with the pressure of finding a prince to wed and a kingdom to govern. Hyunjin quickly grew tired of feeling like an asset rather than a human being with emotions and her own ambitions. )

 

At this point, the only person who hasn’t made her feel such a thing was Heejin. Even for being her personal handmaiden, the girl never felt like that to the princess—she had always regarded her as her greatest friend. In front of company, Heejin would address her properly, but, whenever they were alone (which was often), Heejin would call her by her name or by the nickname she gave her when they were five. Heejin makes her feel normal, as if she doesn’t have a future kingdom to rule and she feels protected from the scrutiny her own kingdom has for her in every move and decision she makes.

 

(Heejin is her sanity on her tough days and her silver lining in every passing night.)

 

When the ball comes to an end, Hyunjin is ecstatic to retire to her room where she knows Heejin will be waiting for her. While Heejin s her dress and unlaces the intricate pattern of her corset, Hyunjin is wiping away at the makeup on her face.

 

“I wish you were with me tonight. I mean, I always wish that you are, but, my mother kept sending boring princes my way.”

 

Heejin minds her own business while Hyunjin changes into her pajamas after cleaning her face of makeup.

 

“You know that you’re going to have to marry one of them at some point.”

 

Hyunjin whines and rolls her head around, “I don’t want to marry them, Tokki. I don’t want to marry anyone anytime soon. But, my mom’s been bothering me about it and I’m so sick and tired of feeling like a damn business transaction.”

 

Handing Hyunjin the yellow headband she wears to keep her hair away when she brushes her teeth and washes her face, Heejin notices how tired Hyunjin’s eyes are. She kisses her cheek and feathers her fingers through Hyunjin’s hair and trails the fingers of her other hand down to the other girl’s own to grasp them and to pull her into a tight hug. (Heejin didn’t need to know Hyunjin for eighteen years to know that she needed comfort. But, knowing her for that long gives her all of the right things to do to make her feel better.) The moment Hyunjin’s arms wrap around her waist and lock her in, Heejin can feel the other girl’s body relax and loosen up. Speaking softly and lowly to appease the intimacy between them, Heejin knows that this moment is her responsibility as the princess’ safe haven.

 

“You’re the person that means the most to me, Hyunjin. Whatever it is that you feel—the moments where you’re sad, the days where you’re happy—they mean something to me. Your dreams and little wishes, I remember them. And I wish I had the means to grant them for you. Your existence, not as royalty, but as someone important to me, is so valuable to me. You’re more than an asset, much more valuable than any crown, and more than what anyone and everyone makes you feel. There is not a single materialistic value that could ever come close to your worth as a human being and I can promise you that nothing will ever be enough.”

 

And in Heejin’s arms, Hyunjin cries. It’s the soft and silent kind, but, it’s still enough to make Heejin’s heart pang. Hyunjin’s heart, Heejin thinks, is more precious than anything in the world and she promises to protect it for as long as she possibly can.

 

It’s not just because Hyunjin is her priority as a maid or as a friend, but, it’s because of the way Heejin comes to love her as more than that. She doesn’t remember when she fell in love with her, just knows that she always has. The line between friends and lovers was always blurry to her. All she knows, and all she cares to know, is that she loves her and that she would do whatever it takes to show Hyunjin that.

 

~

 

When Heejin is nineteen, it is the first time she hears the full story on Hyunjin’s family.

 

Much like tunnel vision, her life and focus had always been on the princess. She knew the girl had a brother and knew that he ran away, but, Heejin never knew why and never took the risk to ask why. The Kim’s runaway son is a topic that none of the family members wished to talk about. All Heejin knew was that he ran away at fourteen when Hyunjin was two.

 

The first time Hyunjin opens up about him, the two had been in the princess’ room, relaxing after dinner. Heejin remembers how the girl traced at the lines on her hand and how she laced their fingers together before telling her about her lost brother. She learns that the throne should have gone to him, but like a coward, he ran away from the responsibility and shoved his rightful place into the hands of his baby sister. Heejin figures that he had been the reason why Hyunjin’s freedom as a child curbed so suddenly. In the years that the king and queen groomed their son to be the king, they had to refocus their adherence and attention to Hyunjin after years of disappointing news—the numerous scouts sent and the flyers posted up throughout the kingdom were never enough to find their runaway son.

 

Hyunjin’s parents would never admit it, but, that is one of their greatest failures, both as parents and as rulers. Hyunjin’s mother stopped crying at night, but, she never stopped looking around corners and odd pockets of their kingdom on her business journeys to look for her son. If he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be and that was just how his personality was. He was always strong-headed and stubborn, more in tune with his own desires and needs than that of others. In actuality, Hyunjin had the natural attributes of a ruler than he had and it shows with how seamlessly it looks when she assumes a great responsibility.

 

That doesn’t mean it is easy for her, however.

 

Hyunjin never tells her mother about the resentment she has for her brother, doesn’t tell her how she doesn’t miss someone who was barely in her life. Hyunjin couldn’t even say she felt abandoned by him if she never felt like he was there for her. But, that doesn’t stop her from making him the villain in her life. It doesn’t stop her from despising him for his cowardice and running away when a kingdom and his family depended on him—when Hyunjin depended on him to be there for her as a brother.

 

Even with Heejin puzzling into all of the empty gaps in her life, nothing could replace the role her brother should have filled. In the likes of family, Hyunjin always felt alone in that matter. Her mother and father had other responsibilities to attend to and rarely spent the time Hyunjin craved for with her.

 

(Hyunjin couldn’t even say Heejin felt like a sister to her. The way she felt for her was something different, something like the love her mother feels for her father.)

 

Sometimes, Hyunjin thinks that if everything were to be stripped away from her, she would be okay so long as she had the one person who was with her from the very start.

 

As long as she had Heejin, life could go on.

 

That is why it terrifies her when Hyunjin listens to her heart calling for Heejin’s name. Endlessly, stuck in a loop, and reverently calling for her, Hyunjin isn’t scared of loving Heejin. It’s what happens after saying her heart’s intention that scares her. It’s not Heejin refusing her love, no, Hyunjin had a sense that her heart wasn’t alone in its feeling.

 

It’s being a princess that scares her. It’s the fact that Heejin is a girl, her handmaiden, especially. It’s how she has a whole kingdom in her name and these clear cut expectations for her to fulfill. She is to be perfect, strong, and unyielding. Vulnerability is her downfall.

 

And invulnerable is something Hyunjin could never be when it concerned Heejin. But, she takes comfort in that. Heejin would protect her at her most vulnerable—she would celebrate in her sensitivity and give her the privilege to see her defenseless as well. Heejin is her downfall. Not as Hyunjin, but, as a princess.

 

As Hyunjin, however, loving Heejin is one of the greatest things she could do. To love someone with a heart as golden and genuine as Heejin’s is her salvation.

 

But, loving Heejin and being with her the way she wants to would be the reason why she’ll be torn away from her. She doesn’t want to be without her. Life without Heejin is a concept so bizarre that Hyunjin refuses to even consider it.

 

Just as the sun rises and falls, Heejin’s presence is meant to be in Hyunjin’s life—there is no other answer, no other possibility.

 

And if Hyunjin were to be brave and confess, then what? If Heejin were to like her back, there would be nothing that they could do.

 

Heejin knows as well as Hyunjin what the princess’ importance is and what her role is to the crown. Heejin swore to the king and queen to do whatever that is best for the kingdom. Being with Hyunjin and endangering her and the kingdom is something she could be condemned for.

 

It terrifies her.

 

If Hyunjin had to keep her heart’s callings to herself to keep Heejin in her life, it would just be another duty to the crown that she has to fulfill. And with her track record, she has been nothing but consistent at keeping to her promise to the crown.

 

If she has to be perfect, strong, and unyielding, so be it.

 

As long as Heejin is by her side through it all, Hyunjin thinks she could do anything.

 

~

 

As it goes, Hyunjin can do most things if Heejin is by her side.

 

When her mother tells her about the prince that she is arranged to marry, Hyunjin can’t help how she spirals.

 

“I don’t want to marry him, mom!”

 

“Hyunjin, you have come to learn by now that what you want has no room in what the kingdom needs.”

 

“I’m fine with taking the crown—I’ve been preparing for it my whole life—but, I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.”

 

Her mother caresses her daughter’s hair, her eyes full of sympathy, “I didn’t love your father when I married him, Hyunjin. You will come to love him.”

 

When Hyunjin cries in frustration, her mother realizes that the girl in front of her sobbing is not the princess and future ruler of the kingdom. The girl in front of her is her daughter, vulnerable and in turmoil.

 

“I’m already in love with someone, mom. And I- I like being in love with her.”

 

Hyunjin’s mother isn’t clueless.

 

She has seen how Hyunjin is around Heejin. She feared this for her daughter, not because she didn’t accept it, but because she knows the people outside of the castle walls would be relentlessly cruel and ruthless if they knew. (And as rulers, truly good rulers, transparency is the marker for genuineness). Her daughter, no matter how refined and responsible and strong she is, is still innocent and young at heart. Sensitive and generous of the love that she gives, it’s one of the greatest things about her. Hyunjin’s compassion and her empathy will be what makes her a great leader. Knowing policies and being an effective diplomat are things that can be taught, but, being good at heart is something that could never be learned if the heart is unwilling to let its guard down.

 

“I know you do, baby. And I am so sorry that I can’t do much for you. I can’t keep people from going against you, I can’t protect you even if I wanted to, and I so badly wish that I could.”

 

The daughter falls apart in her mother’s arms and all her mother hears in her head is Hyunjin’s broken voice whimpering, “I love Heejin, mom, I love her so much.”

 

In the errors that she has made, her son’s disappearance and her daughter’s broken heart are the ones that hurt her the most.

 

She could rule a whole kingdom beside her husband, but, she couldn’t do anything to protect her children.

 

(As a mother, she can’t help but to feel like a failure—unable to keep her son happy and secure enough for him to stay and powerless enough to not courageously stand by her daughter’s heart, she wonders if she deserves the love of her family if she cannot love them the way that she should.)

 

~

 

When Hyunjin trudges back to her room, Heejin is quick to detect her red and puffy eyes. Opening her arms for comfort, Hyunjin makes a home out of them and nuzzles into the girl’s neck. Crying has left her exhausted and her heart’s restraint against keeping her emotions in feels a lot like a losing battle.

 

(Being in Heejin’s arms is the comfort she aches for, and being human, Hyunjin could only be strong for so long.)

 

“What happened?”

 

“I’m marrying someone I’m not in love with and I don’t think I will ever get to marry the person I’m in love with.”

 

Everything in Heejin pauses except for the thrumming of her heart.

 

“You’re in love with someone?”

 

Hyunjin pulls away, enough to lean her forehead on Heejin’s, and she cups the girl’s cheeks and revels in the softness under the pads of her fingers. Her voice is gentle and quiet, raw from the crying she did in her mother’s arms.

 

“We both know that there is only one person in this universe that I could love, Heejin.”

 

And with how Hyunjin’s looking at her, has always looked at her, Heejin knows the answer in the heart.

 

(It’s her. It’s her heart that Hyunjin loves.)

 

Closing her eyes when she feels Hyunjin’s thumb caressing her cheeks, Heejin tightens her grip around the other girl’s waist to anchor herself to the present moment, to not lose herself in her fears.

 

“M- me?”

 

Heejin feels Hyunjin lifting her head to kiss her forehead.

 

Her lips are soft and the kiss that they leave is reverent and gentle.

 

“Only you. Always you, Heejin.”

 

Heejin turns her head to kiss the palm on her cheek, “And you know you’re it for me too?”

 

Heejin opens her eyes to meet Hyunjin’s loving and adoring ones, “It’s one of the only things I ever had confidence in.”

 

“So what do we do?”

 

The princess just closes her eyes and shakes her head, utterly lost.

 

“I wish I knew, Tokki. I wish I could just be with you without people breathing down my neck. I wish I could show you how much you mean to me without being terrified of people taking you away from me or coming for you.”

 

Heejin feels her tears b from behind her lids, the dam that keeps them back dangerously close to cracking.

 

“Me too, Aeongie. I’m sorry I can’t grant that for you. I’m sorry I can’t change things for you.”

 

Hyunjin shakes her head and pulls Heejin into her arms and she hates how she can feel the girl’s wet tears on her neck, hates that Heejin feels pain because of her, for her.

 

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Heekkie. Just like how you can’t change the circumstances of life, I can’t change how I feel for you and I would never apologize for loving you.”

 

That night, after Hyunjin gets ready for bed, Heejin doesn’t retire to her own room like she normally does and instead sleeps with her arms around Hyunjin, her nose buried into her neck. The early sun calls for her like it always does and waking up with the girl she loves in her arms makes her morning better than any of the ones she has had before.

 

Being with Hyunjin makes everything better, that is something Heejin has always known.

 

~.~.~

 

Hyunjin meets the prince she is betrothed to marry in the autumn. Ironically enough, he shares her name. (If Hyunjin hadn’t been in the position she was in, she would laugh, but, her future looks too grim for her to laugh in the face of the universe.)

 

Prince Hyunjin is kind and polite. He respects Hyunjin’s boundaries and treats her equally. He is engaging and interesting.

 

But, he is not Heejin.

 

When Prince Hyunjin courts Hyunjin, the princess can’t stop herself from wishing that it were Heejin’s hands holding hers and her arms wrapped around her waist while they danced. Hyunjin wished that Heejin didn’t have to get her ready for her dates with him—she always sees how her eyes are more downtrodden, her fingers more hesitant to tie the laces of her corset. And no matter how Hyunjin tries to comfort her, it doesn’t dismiss the fact that Hyunjin could never truly be hers. Even if Heejin holds her at night, even if Hyunjin kisses her cheeks every morning and tells her that she loves her, even if Heejin knows that Hyunjin wishes so dearly to be with her, it’s not enough to make her forget that the man who she is helping Hyunjin get ready for is the one who she will end up with, not Heejin.

 

(In the laws of the kingdom, in the happenstances of life, Prince Hyunjin is Hyunjin’s—no matter if Hyunjin’s heart is Heejin’s.)

 

Heejin knows she shouldn’t be selfish and make Hyunjin feel bad for doing what’s best for her kingdom, for fulfilling the duty she is obligated to do. She shouldn’t shut Hyunjin out or distance herself from her, but, she can’t help how her heart tries to protect itself from the future.

 

(Hyunjin is not hers, even if her heart is. A heart to love is only half without the person. And Hyunjin, as much as she loves her heart, needs her there to love, needs her there to hold her at night and to get her through the day.)

 

Heejin doesn’t like how she can see how she is hurting Hyunjin. She doesn’t like how she can feel her worried eyes following her around as she busies herself while getting Hyunjin ready for her dates. She doesn’t like how helpless the princess looks as she turns back when Prince Hyunjin escorts her out. She doesn’t like to watch Hyunjin’s life being taken away from her, but, that is the life Hyunjin has always lived. She has always selflessly lived for others—for her parents, her brother, her kingdom. She has always put her own passions and desires in the background so that she could fulfill the desires and standards of others.

 

Hyunjin, always, will put the world first before herself.

 

Heejin will always put Hyunjin first.

 

But, what good is a mere maid to the future queen outside of her duties of tending to her?

 

Sure, Heejin could love her endlessly and adoringly. She could spend her nights holding her to sleep and playing with her hair to get her eyes to droop asleep. She could tell her she loves her each time she loops the end of a string through each eyelet of her corset, could kiss her shoulder before slipping the rest of her dress on, could blow raspberries in her neck just to hear Hyunjin’s happy laugh, but, she could never hold her left hand in public and feel the ridges of metal on her ring finger and feel her heart sigh in happiness knowing that the ring is a physical tie tethering Hyunjin to her for as long as she lives. She could never show how proud she is to be the one Hyunjin loves most, could never show the world how indescribably wonderful it is to love a woman as compassionate as Hyunjin.

 

Hyunjin could never be truly hers (as she, too, couldn’t fully be hers) and Heejin doesn’t know what hurts her more—that Hyunjin is never meant to be with a lowly maid like her or that Hyunjin wants to be with the person that makes her happiest, but, is held back by every law of the kingdom.

 

Heejin can’t stop how she cries at night once Hyunjin falls asleep.

 

She can’t help how her heart aches—how it aches for her and for the woman she loves.

 

~

 

Whenever Hyunjin has outings with the prince, there is always an unspoken tension. Caught between wanting to know how her time went and not wanting to hear anything from her at all, Heejin is stuck looking at the back of her head while she unlaces the strings of her corset. It’s usually silent until Hyunjin breaks the silence.

 

They don’t talk about Prince Hyunjin.

 

Ever.

 

For both of their sakes, they don’t talk about him.

 

(But, they really should. They really should talk about how Heejin’s heart bleeds and how Hyunjin’s desperately yearns and shouts for Heejin’s, only to be met with deaf ears. They should talk, if not to reconcile with the conflict in their paths, but, to prepare each other for the inevitable.)

 

Heejin knows Hyunjin loves her. But, she also knows that Hyunjin has a greater filiality to her parents, her kingdom—that is just what she always has been conditioned to do.

 

Heejin doesn’t want to accept that someday soon she will not be the one to hold her to sleep, will not be the one waking up beside her, will not be the one by her side in the way that she wants her to be. Even if she has Hyunjin for the brief time that she has her in—in the way in the way that she has her—it’s enough to make her heart long for someone who is not even truly gone yet.

 

(Still, that doesn’t stop her heart from giving itself to her, no matter how much Heejin tries to protect it. How could she when Hyunjin’s eyes are so warm, her slight smile so beautiful, and her arms so inviting?

 

She couldn’t say no to her just as much as Hyunjin couldn’t say no to her.

 

Whether it be playing anime theme songs on the piano or wrapping her arm around Hyunjin’s stomach and her fingers finding purchase with hers, refusing a heart in love is an arduous and difficult thing to do.

 

Even if the happiness she feels with Hyunjin is as ephemeral as it is euphoric, Heejin can’t help how she succumbs.)

 

For the first time, Hyunjin talks about the prince, “Prince Hyunjin asked if he could kiss me today.”

 

Heejin’s fingers halts at the bottom of Hyunjin’s corset, her breath coming out shaky when she exhales, “Did you- did you say yes?”

 

Hyunjin looks down at her fingers and twiddles with her thumbs, a habit she does when she gets anxious, “No. I didn’t- I didn’t want to kiss him. I don’t want to kiss him. I can’t do that when I’m- when we’re- when I love you.”

 

Heejin feels her shoulders drop in relief, but, her words contradict the consolation in her heart, “You’re marrying him, Hyunjin. You’re going to have to kiss him eventually.”

 

Hyunjin squeezes her eyes shut before shaking her head vehemently.

 

“Don’t do this to me, Heejin. Don’t remind me about my duties—don’t start becoming the people who try to do what’s best for me by doing what’s best for them.”

 

(And it terrifies her how well Hyunjin is able to read her, how she knows that Heejin pulls away to save herself from the destruction that will come with Hyunjin marrying someone that isn’t her. It sets ablaze to her emotions and lights the fuse that had been eating away at her.)

 

“I am doing what’s best for you, Hyunjin! You can’t get stuck in this fantasy with me! You can’t forget about reality! Prince Hyunjin is going to be in your life as your partner, not me. He is going to be the one beside you when you when you inherit the crown; he is going to be the one you spend your entire life with, Hyunjin. You are never going to end up with me, no matter how much you love me—no matter how much I love you. We’re not meant to last, Hyunjin. Even if I could wish on