It was Autumn.

I wasn't surprised that I didn't realise it sooner. Didn't realise that the nights were coming faster, that the days were feeling shorter. My mind was too preoccupied by what was happening around me, rampant with anxiety. War was on the horizon and tensions were running agonizingly high. I didn't have the time to notice. Until now.

Without my phone to help me (god knows how dependable I am on my phone) I had no possible inkling that we were just now entering October. The month of bipolar weather, warm days and cool evenings. Now that I thought about it, Autumn's always felt colder back in Seoul. I could remember complaining to dad last year about the crook heating system in our old apartment, because "no way in hell am I going to survive the winter with that piece of junk'!".  He called me dramatic. At the time I told him he was wrong, that I just wasn't cut out for seasons like these... but now I was starting to think that maybe he was right. Maybe I was being dramatic. Or maybe I was just different.

I almost didn't feel like me. The cold pronging at my skin doesn't bother me as much as it would have before. 

I wasn't sure how much time had passed before we found ourselves where we were now, familiar garden surrounding us as we walk in silence. I followed Yves as she lead us past flower beds, navigating the hedge-like-maze to perfection. The sound of birds flapping their wings and chirping their unsung melodies are all that can be heard as they fly over our heads and into the hedges, mingling about through leaves. Their fast, aggressive motions have the branches rattling, leaves falling prematurely and slowly gliding down to our feet. Soon the pebbled footpath beneath us was covered in mixtures of oranges and purples. Unlike the way the leaves crunched noisily beneath my shoes, Yves manoeuvres herself so silently I can't help but stare in awe. She walked with squared shoulders, her hands held tightly behind her back, the clench of her jaw prominent as she grinds her teeth together. All it took was one stern stare for Taehyung to stop at the entrance of the maze like he had all those days ago. With nothing but a knowing glance and an apprehensive nod of his head, he gave us our privacy.  Suddenly the silence between us felt all the more intimidating now that we were alone.

Yves moves almost instinctively. Seeking out the familiar bench in front of the large apple tree, she sits down with a sigh. I hesitate for the briefest of moments before taking a seat besides her, making sure to leave a respectful gap between us. The girl sits stiff as she stares up at the apple tree, her face vacant. Yves' breath mingles with the cold and for a moment I sit still, dumb as I watch mist consume the air. I can't help but swallow the lump that forms in my throat at the uncomfortable quiet.

 The silence surrounding us felt just as, if not even more, numbing than the cold nipping at our skin. In this moment... All I can do is take it all in.

In any other situation I'd think it was oddly scenic. That there was some kind of beauty behind the way Autumn hit Eden. About the way Autumn complimented her. But when my gaze subconsciously drifts to meet her eyes, reality is quick to catch up to me when I notice the somber expression etched across her face.

I can't help but flinch when she breaks the silence.

"They are dying."

Startled, I tilt my head and wait for her to continue.  I watch the way she stares almost absently into the garden around us, the way her jaw clenches a second time. She stumbles over her words as if mulling them over, and then her shoulders are deflating. She doesn't bother checking to make sure I was paying attention, and something told me she was talking to herself rather than me. Nonetheless, I listen.

"Each and every one of these flowers. There once was a time where I use to dread winter, the season where they would wilt and fall. In this moment now it is not yet time for them to part. Their days are counting as fast as the sand in your hourglass. When the last leaf falls and marks winter come... it is only then their time has run out. They will die. Leave their seeds until time is right to return. It is almost ironic."

She falls silent when her eyes pause on an unfamiliar purple flower not too far away, staring back at her in its wilting glory. 

"Mother once told me that they are no different than she and I. That we are like flowers in the way we grow. Changing over time even through the harshest of winters. We adapt. We find ways to survive."

And then she reaches over to pluck the flower from its stem, bringing it close to her nose to inhale deeply.

"Until you rip us from our roots. Nowhere left to hide. No longer protected by the things which have always kept us grounded."

I can't stop my words from slipping from my lips, confusion thick in my voice.

"What do you mean...?"

I knew she heard me but for a moment she doesn't say anything. She purses her lips together as she looks down at the flower in her hands, weighing it carefully as if it was the most fragile thing ever. She catches me by surprise for a second time when she suddenly speaks, ignoring my question.

"The Mugung to us has always symbolised hope. The idea of resurrection, if you will. That when the last petal falls, it is only a matter of time before it blooms once more." And then she pauses. Looking away from the Mugung, she finally locks her eyes on mine. 

I can't stop the way my breath hitches in my throat when I notice just how vulnerable she looks in this moment. She looks at me in such a way I feel my heart beating in my chest. It's only when her next words fall from her lips in a breathy whisper, so quiet I had to strain to hear them, does it finally make sense to me.

"Mother told me we are much like flowers, she and I. But I do not agree. When we die there are no second chances. There is no resurrection. Whatever is to happen in this war, whatever is to come of my people... Eden may remain standing years into your future, but the Eden I know it as will be no longer. There will be no returning to the seeds of what it once was."

She gauges my reaction as if waiting for me to respond, searching my face as if expecting me to reassure her. But then, as if noticing the hopeless look in my eyes, she nods solemnly.

"Distant faces that no one will remember. That is what is to become of we. It is almost ironic that my deepest fear is our destiny." She finishes her sentence with a soft, aggravated scoff. My face instantly twists into a furrow.

She wasn't usually so... down. She was a princess. Trained to hold her tongue, forced to maintain a perfect, positive façade even when her mind begged otherwise. 

"I am worried. Everything that is happening, the events that are unfolding... it has me doubting more than I did yesterday. I know The King is a... complicated man. But he is still my father.  It unsettles me to know he and his men were attacked. I did not even know they had left the Kingdom."

"I'm sure he's okay, right? I mean he has his guards with him. He's safe."

"I can not help but think that may be wishful thinking, Y/N. As far as we are aware, there is a rat within our walls." She swallows the lump that forms in . "It pains me to consider whether there may be more than just one."

She suddenly snaps her gaze back up. I don't miss the pang of frustration that crosses her face, the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips twist into a scowl. She continues, her voice dropping to an annoyed hum.

"Not to mention that with men like Jungkook backing father's actions, I do not see much receptiveness to mothers rule in the meantime. The disrespect is obvious and it frustrates me to no end."

My mind drifts back to the way Jungkook spoke to the Queen in the throne room and a metallic taste rises to my senses. I tilt my head and push.

"How does your mom... you know... stay so patient?" I stumble, careful in my approach. "You'd think she'd have him punished by now."

"It is in mothers personality to be patient. She is a respectful woman, humbled. If her people wish to speak then she will let their voices be heard. She is different to father in that way." I don't miss the way her eyes darken as she continues. "There is not much she can do when father's favoritism influences his actions. I can see it on her face just how much she wishes to defend her status, to put Jungkook in his place... But we both know that as long as he is under father's protection, it is not possible. As the commanding guard of our royal army he has his right to speech."

"What, so he can speak and she can't? I don't know about you but that just feels plain hypocritical to me."

Yves levels me with stern eyes. She opens as if she wants to disagree, to defend the laws put in place by her people... but she can't. Her lips zip closed and after a few seconds, she nods her head in defeat. She looks like she wants to say something, like there's words on the tip of her tongue waiting to be said. But instead she shakes her head and huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I wish not to speak on this any further. It is making my head hurt and I admit there are more pressing things on my mind right now."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod and back away. Settling myself back into my seat besides her, I wait for her to continue. If she didn't want to talk about it then I wasn't going to make her. A silence passes between us as she holds her head in her hands, the tension thickening impossibly further. For a moment I wondered if I did something wrong. If I should've held my tongue and not pointed out how hypocritical ever