It makes sense to me now why Yves doesn't wear the traditional dress and gown associated with royalty. The same clothes her mother wears, covered in golds and riches and the reddest of ruby-gems. She runs; me tailing behind her long strides as we race out of the courtyard. Taehyung lingered off to search for Jungkook, something about 'finding him before it was too late'.

The sound of our footsteps hurrying down long corridors and my worn-out breathing consumes the air. We had to get to the dining hall. Now. Passing by windows that gaze out into the kingdom below, the darkening sky was enough to tell us that it was almost time for supper. It was time to set the plan into motion.

We just had to make sure her dad was okay.

 

"Yves! Wait up!"

My shout has her faltering for the briefest of seconds but then a grunt tears from her lips, and I just make out the shake of her head when she picks up the pace.

"We do not have time!" She calls back, determination thick in her voice. I could only begin to imagine what was on her mind right now.

She was worried, that much was clear. Images of the man in the throne room come back to me, his deep gash and all. As far as we knew her dad could be in a far worse position.

Instead of replying, all I can do is let out an exhausted huff as I push my body to chase after her. I wouldn't say I was a particularly athletic person. Sure, I could get places when I needed to-- but I didn't drop gym for no reason. My knees feel weaker and weaker with each quick step but I will myself to ignore it for now. There were more important things to worry about.

 

We had to have made it to the dining hall within record time. In just a matter of seconds, here we were: Yves rushing through the large open doors with me hot on her tail. Royal guards were already seated at their tables, conversation consuming the room. I don't miss the way the guards closest to the door flinch back in surprise at Yves' bolting figure, barely given enough time to register who she was. Feeling multiple sets of eyes on us as we scurry down the pathway leading to the thrones, I can't help but cower away. Something about the daggers on the back of my head had my bones rattling, anxiety cementing itself in the pit of my stomach. But when Yves suddenly reaches her hand out to grab me by my wrist, I'm torn from my thoughts and back to reality.

The stairs leading to the thrones were covered by the King's guards, royal tunics and all, blocking us from passing through with mean scowls and squared shoulders. But when Yves sends them a particular hard glare, it doesn't take them long to get the message. Tugging me through the barricade we run up the small flight of stairs. It's then the grip on my wrist disappears, and it's then I see the nth side of Yves I hadn't seen before.

Spotting two familiar figures lingering off to the side of the King's throne, Yves practically tackles her father into a big hug that has him stumbling back in shock. His first instinct was to stiffen up and raise his arms, but the moment he realised it was his daughter-- he softens.

"Father!"

"Sooyoung-"

Before he can finish his sentence, Yves is pulling back to search him over. All I can do is stand awkwardly behind them with my hands on my knees, doubled over to regain my breath. It amazed me how she didn't even seem to crack a sweat. But I supposed that's what happens when you have your mind set on something. You get tunnel vision.

"You are okay!"

The man awkwardly pats her back and without meaning to, I can't help but crack a grin. It reminded me of dad. The way he got all awkward when I was emotional, the way he fumbled over his words and moved so stiff it was embarrassing. But, as quick as it came, my grin washes away. Dad...

I shake my head to rid myself of my thoughts. I watch the way the King's face suddenly pulls to a thrown, the way his frown lines thicken as he looks down at his daughter.

"Yes. Which is what confuses me." And then he turns back to his wife. "What do you mean one of my men were injured?"

 

I still. I wasn't sure how, but I managed to completely forget. Giving the man a quick once over I feel the way my eyebrows furrow. He looked... okay? He definitely didn't look like a man who just got attacked...

 

Now it was the Queen's turn to frown.

"He said you were attacked while running errands." She pauses to gauge her husbands reaction. "Why, what is wrong?"

 

Without even meaning to, I tune out of their conversation. Giving them their privacy I let my eyes scan the crowd, looking out into the long dining tables. Everything felt... different. Plates were piled with a mixture of foods but none of them were being touched. Guards sat unusually timid as they spoke with one another, their eyes darting over their own shoulders as if anticipating an attack at any given moment. On one table I notice the impending fight breaking out, mean glares and nasty scowls and all. But when my eyes drift over the table in the middle and briefly lock on a familiar mass of raven hair, I feel a ball forming in my throat.

Olivia sits at her usual spot with her head resting on her palms, fiddling with the cutlery besides her plate. Men bicker away around her but she doesn't crack a muscle. It almost looked like she was lost in her own thoughts. Usually she would snap. She would turn towards them and tell them to "Shut up!" or maybe even instigate some kind of bar fight-- her in the very middle of it. But now... something was wrong. Swallowing, I look away and continue searching. I couldn't worry about it right now. There wasn't any time to. Lowe and behold, it's not long until my eyes land on their target.

Jungkook.

The sight of the man has me frowning. Where is Taehyung...?

The man shimmies his way around the tables as if trying to go unseen, just filing by the walls and mixing with the shadows. It almost surprised me how I saw him. My vision never was particularly bad but now it felt like it improved over night. It's like my eyes took in every movement, every eye roll, every tap of a knuckle against wood. It's like I was seeing everything. My arm absentmindedly reached out to tug at Yves' sleeve and she turns immediately. Giving me a confused stare, I nod my head in his direction.

 

"Look. He's holding something." My eyes drop to a faint glimmer in his hand, some kind of silvered buckle.

Yves hums and shakes her head, her eyes squinting as she tries to search him out in the crowd. "I do not see anything..." She mumbles, quiet but loud enough for me to hear. "Do you think it is the journal?"

I watch him carefully. Watch the way he weaves in and out around chairs, ignoring guards who tried mingling with him. He looked like a man on a mission and it was making me sick. And as much as I tried to get a good look at whatever he was holding, I just couldn't. A frustrated hiss slips from my lips.

"I don't know. He keeps moving."

 

We're drawn from our short lived conversation when a particular grunt sounds from behind us. Turning, we just catch the end of the King's sentence as he furrows his eyebrows-- staring at his wife in blistering confusion.

"-There was no attack." He turns to look between the three of us. I don't miss the way several guards turn our way when they hear his words, their face screwed in confusion. Giving the four men an inquisitive stare, his voice grows louder by the second as if reality was catching up with him. "Who did you let inside my kingdom?!"

His sudden shout has more eyes tearing our way. I recognised who they were immediately; familiar guards who were protecting the Queen in the throne room before the man in question interrupted us. Hearing the King's words sent them into a flurry, a murmured conversation passing between them.

 

"What is he talking about?"

"No attack?"

"Wait a minute-- who was that man?!"

 

Thinking quickly, the Queen grips her husband shoulder and moves him away from the eavesdropping guards. Yves and I follow after them, a look of pure hot confusion passing between us. Now I was interested.

"One of our own men!" Her voice is low when she speaks but there's no mistaking the growing concern in her tone. "There has to have been a mistake. Did you split up? Maybe you missed the conflict?"

This time he doesn't bother masking his frustration. Looking between the three of us, he pushes.

"I am telling you, there was no conflict. I took three of my men and we travelled together!"

 

This wasn't making any sense. Yves and I share yet another look with one another, completely and utterly dumbfounded. We saw it... didn't we? The man who stumbled in, the blood on his hands...

But then it dawns on us, our eyes widening in realisation.

It doesn't take long for her parents to get the same idea. They move quickly.

The King turns on his heel and towards the guards standing over us, his mouth moving soundlessly among the chatter as he speaks to them. I just barely pick out the words "intruder" and "safety" before those same seven guards race out of the room, their eyes wide and their spears clutched tightly in their hands. The feeling of a hand placing itself on my forearm seconds after has me turning around, meeting the Queen's eyes.

 

"We must move. It is not safe to stay here, we must retreat to the throne room until the intruder is found. Y/N, I need you to watch Sooyoung and protect her at all costs, okay?" She speaks so fast that all I can do is nod stupidly, my heart racing in my chest. She's leading us away from the thrones. "Sooyoung, I want you to-

 

"No!"

 

The Queen stumbles back, her eyes wide in surprise. The hand she held on her daughters back only seconds prior immediately slips, instead raising to clutch at her chest. Yves' sudden shout had even the room around us growing quiet, her voice so loud it reverberated. The soldiers look up from their seats and I feel the way their eyes stare daggers up at us, but in particular, at her.

They watch her as she takes a long step away from her mother, the way she stands tall with a look of pure defiance etched across her face. Sparing the briefest look back at them, I can't help but swallow the lump that forms in my throat. I couldn't identify their emotions with just any one word.

They looked surprised. Shocked, even. None of them had to have been used to seeing the princess suddenly snap, especially towards their Queen.

When I turn back to look at Yves and her mom, however, is when I feel a pang in my chest. I don't miss the way a look of hurt slowly etches across her mom's face.

"Sooyoung..." She whispers, her eyes nervously staring down her daughter. "Sooyoung, please do not argue with me now. I am afraid there has been a mistake-"

"No." Yves says once more, this time more confident. I don't miss the way her jaw clenches and she bites the inside of her cheek when her mothers face falls, but if it bothers her she doesn't say anything. Turning around to stand where her father stood only moments ago, she stares out into the crowd of soldiers.

I could only begin to imagine what she looked like right now from their perspective. Standing in front of her fathers grand throne with a look of determination on her face, so strikingly akin to a Queen.

"What is the meaning of this... Guards, take her to the throne room!" The King whispers, quiet but so scathing it has my ears burning. I don't miss the look of concern he shares with his wife before he turns back to Yves' guards, urging them to move quickly. Just as they step forward, however, they're stopped.

Yves looks away from the crowd of guards and turns to face her men. With one particularly hard glare that had even me fidgeting away, the reaction is instant. They back down.

The King can't believe his eyes.

"That is an order!" He attempts again, grabbing the nearest guard by the neck of his tunic. Spit practically flies from his mouth as he speaks. "Take her to safety! Now!"

"I am sorry, my lord. We can not do it."

His face screws up in disbelief. He looks back and forth between each individual guards faces, his daughter, his wife-- and even me. It looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to argue-- anything! But when he realises that the guards weren't going to budge, he falters.

I never stopped to consider it before. That the people favoured the princess over they did the King. Her guards were loyal to her more than they were him. The overseer's exile had to have been the tipping point.

When the King doesn't continue, his lips zipped shut in mute shock-- Yves doesn't waste another second.

She turns back to face the crowd and the moment her words slip from her lips, the reaction is instant.

 

"There is a traitor in this room at this very moment."

 

I didn't expect her to be so upfront about it. A gasp tears through the crowd.

All I can do is stand still as I watch the events unfold. I don't miss the way the Queen's breath hitches in the back of in surprise, the way she stalks over to her husband and leans on him for support. Looking back into the crowd I watch the way the guards stiffen. The way they turn left and right, facing their peers with accusatory fingers raising to the air. They didn't trust each other. The fight breaking out on the fourth table gets bigger now, and suddenly a fist is thrown. When men raise to pull their peers off of each other, I take the moment to search the crowd again-- trying to find Jungkook. It only takes a few moments until I finally do.

Taking advantage of the interruption, he squeezes by the open space left by the guards trying to stop the fight. It's when he walks into the light streaming into the room do I finally see what he's holding.

The journal.

 

"Yves..." I whisper, quiet but loud enough for her to hear. She tilts her head the faintest of inches to meet my eyes through her peripheral. Pointing towards the man she follows my gesture and it's now a newfound sense of confidence crosses her face. She sees it too.

The crowd finally simmers when she continues, her voice carrying over the room sharply. The fighting men are pulled back down into their seats, their menacing glares prominent and all. But I ignore it for now. I don't tear my eyes from Jungkook.


 

"A traitor: one of our very own. One we have walked halls with, one we have fought battles with, and one we have shared meals with in this very room. Helping the Northern Queen as she stages her attack on our Kingdom. Helping our enemies prepare for a war that aims to wipe us out-- forever."

 

Looking away from Jungkook, my eyes still on Olivia for a second time. She still wasn't moving. But then when she wipes her hair from her face and I can get a good look at her, I notice what had caught her attention. Her eyes stay trained in a completely separate direction from the throne, her face washed over by an unrecognisable emotion. Hesitating, I follow her vision only to feel my blood running cold.

A particular man standing in the crowd has my eyes blowing wide. No longer was he the same man who crumbled to the floor in the throne room: unkempt hair, face red from being caked in blood. The same man who begged to the Queen with pleading eyes and tear stained cheeks. But more notable, the large gash from his collarbone to his temple no longer looked fresh-- now instead a deep tissue scar of a wound that once was. No longer donned in royal tunics he now stands with a dark cloak, so familiar to the ones we snuck out with.

The injured man. The supposed council member that interrupted the meeting, crying wolf.

The scowl on his lips is what has me subconsciously moving closer to Yves, anything to warn her, anything to point him out. But before I can say anything I'm left to stand stupidly as she continues, beating me to it.

 

"All these days we have spent blaming the wrong people. Exiling those who needn't be punished." Her gaze hardens impossibly further. "But this betrayal will continue no longer."

 

My eyes stay latched on the unknown man. Thinking quickly, I turn to the Queen with fast strides. The woman flinches back but when she notices the way I bring my finger to my lips, the way my face washes over in pure seriousness-- she stays silent. I whisper, loud enough for her to hear me.

"The intruder. He's here."

Following my gesture to the man slowly inching his way closer and closer, her breath hitches in . Tugging aside two of the nearest guards, her face washes over stern as she speaks in tongues. Just as I had only seconds prior, one gesture towards the hostile man was all it took for the two guards to move-- swiftly manoeuvring themselves around their peers so they can advance on the man without being seen. But before