Again and again, the same dream. For the fifth night in a row, the princess woke up, arm outstretched for a knight that wasn't there. No, her knight would be halfway through their journey up North by now, if everything was going well. And everything had to be going well. For Joohyun, there was no other way but to believe that.

She had only recently realized how big her bed was, and how tiny she felt lying alone in the middle of her chambers. Not that she had much else to think about—to distract her mind—the past days. Spending the time awake was slowly driving her mad with worry and fear, so the princess had decided two days after the ocular squad's departure that sleeping the days off would be the closest thing she had to a time machine. Anything to speed up time and have her knight back in the castle.

Unfortunately, even in sleep her worry plagued what little peace of mind she had left. Five nights in a row, and all she saw was Seulgi lying peacefully on a bed of grass. A bright stretch of green Joohyun had since decided was a random part of the Garden. Which was strange, because Joohyun hadn't been to the Garden since her knight left. She had stared down the dark passageway for hours at a time, peering through the secret opening in the bookshelf, contemplating. But she couldn't do it. Not without Seulgi.

It's not that the dreams were bad per se. Joohyun had come to a crushing realization that life in the castle, and life as a princess, was terribly dull without the company of her knight and best friend. Seeing Seulgi in her dreams, in the Garden, dozing off like she would on afternoons out with the princess, was both the best and the worst part of the princess' days. The best, because it was the closest thing to being with her knight again, and the worst, because Joohyun always seemed to wake up just as Seulgi would open her eyes. 

The Kingdom was situated at the center of the map. They were like the capital of the land. A crossroads, a business center, and for the most part, the ruling brains of the land. A journey up North from the main gates of the Kingdom meant about two weeks by horse, all stopovers considered. And considering everything went according to plan, as well. (Everything had to be going according to plan. They had to.)

On the day of their departure, a customary send-off feast was held at the castle. Members of the Royal Guard ate, drank, sang, and made toasts to the squad members—all hand-picked by Seulgi—who were leaving. At the high table, the members of the Council watched, with the princess sat at the center.

Joohyun wondered if their brief, unspoken goodbye was what caused her worries. The knight was increasingly busy on the days leading up to their departure, and they had spent the least time together the day before. She resented that, even though she also knew she needed the knight to focus on her training and preparations. Because everything had to go according to plan.

Oculars were meant as covert missions. They would go in and out and report what they saw, and the necessary follow-up actions would be decided. Provided, of course, that everything went according to plan. By all means, the princess shouldn't have to worry. All these years, Joohyun had been watching her knight as much as her knight watched for her. She knew—and believed—in Seulgi's capabilities, and knew that the knight had left with the same confidence. And yet, in Seulgi's absence, there was no suppressing the constant rising dread at the bottom of Joohyun's chest.

Everything had been planned and plotted out. Joohyun had made sure, and Seungwan had been by her side making double, triple sure that everything was set. That she wasn't sending her knight to some dangerous unknown. That she would see her knight walk through the castle's main entrance in a few weeks' time, victorious, and with that smile the princess so loved (and missed) seeing.

So why, then, was her heart beating stranger tonight? Something was off. Joohyun knew, but shut her eyes instead, fists gripped tight onto the layers of blanket on her bed in an attempt to mentally swallow the words that were forming in her brains. She was afraid to even think it. Because thinking it might confirm it. Thinking it could strike finality. Her heart thumped in the silent night, the words taunting at the back of her mind—something's happened. Something's happened to the squad.

“Go,” the princess had said that day she bowed her knight goodbye. “And return safely.” 

The knight had bowed in return, her usually slender frame clad in armor, her sword, usually abandoned on the floor of the princess' chambers, slung on her back. Joohyun had hoped the knight could hear all the other words she couldn't say, slipped in between the syllables of her solemn farewell. Hoped the knight could feel her reaching out for one last embrace even as she stood still and watched the squad walk out the grand doors of the castle.

“They'll be fine,” Seungwan had mumbled, patting the princess on her shoulder as they walked back to her chambers that day. The princess wasn't sure if Seungwan was speaking to her or herself, but chose to nod and convince herself as well.

The next several days were spent like that. Seungwan and Joohyun both conversing (and not conversing) in little sentences meant to convince themselves that everything was fine. That everything was going according to plan. Until tonight. Joohyun felt the air in her huge chamber getting out slowly, her vision blurring as fast as her panic rising. Again, she shut her eyes, fingers pressed against her temples, her brains desperately groping for that image of Seulgi on the green grass, sleeping, peaceful. Their Garden. Her knight.

Except Seulgi moved this time, in the depths of the princess' brains, hand stretched out, fingers shaking. And then blood was coming out of her lips, in violent coughs, staining the grass below her.

Joohyun's eyes shot open, faded images of her bloodied knight still vivid in her mind as tears formed. It was just a dream, wasn't it? Her fears had bested her, and she let them. It was a cold night, cooler than usual, and she hadn't been eating properly since the squad's departure. The princess' hand shook as she ran her fingers through the sheets around her, a space she shared just weeks ago with her knight. It was her longing for her knight, surely, that was making it harder than usual to breathe. 

She let her eyelids fall, feeling her hot tears run down her cheeks (no thumbs to stop them this time). With a broken sigh, the princess realized she no longer knew how to sleep alone.

.//

“Word from the squad?” the princess asked, eyes glued to the Council Head standing before her at the long table. It had been a week since her night terror.

Ever since the vision of her bloodied knight, the dreams stopped. The princess no longer saw her knight on the green grass, with or without blood. She had grown silent and even more reclusive, not leaving her chambers. 

Seungwan nodded, her mind racing. She had run and requested for immediate conversation with the princess upon receiving the report from Northern representatives. She thought her lungs would burst from how fast she was running up the stairs, but she needed to make sure the princess got the news from her, and not someone else. It was crucial that she was to deliver this news—for the sake of the princess and whatever poor soul would dare to tell the princess what she was about to.

The Council Head's guilt only rose when she saw the state of the princess upon being let into her chambers. The lack of sleep was evident, a progression she had grudgingly noted over the past several days since Seulgi's absence, but the royalty's eyes seemed redder this morning than before.

“Yes, Highness,” Seungwan replied, her head remaining bowed. She could see the princess' tightened grip on the silver cutlery in her hand. When she was met with no reply, the Council Head pulled out her tablet and continued. “They've logged the squad passing through villages up North. Actually—the report—the squad, they're—”

The tablet shook in the Council Head's grasp, her hands trembling.

“The Head of the Royal Guard,” the princess’ soft voice broke Seungwan’s focus, the tablet falling to the ground in a sickening crack. “How is she?”

“The report—it’s—they’re saying the squad’s on its way back—” Seungwan stuttered, her fingers peeling the tablet off the floor. “They should be here—a few weeks—some of the horses weren’t—”

“The Head of the Royal—”

“She’s not with them,” the Council Head gave in, her rushed whisper somehow sounding loud in the huge chamber. She sighed, unable to get her tablet to work, shaky fingers running through her blonde hair. “Seulgi’s not with them—princess.”

Joohyun’s eyes stayed closed as she shook her head, the words not registering. Not making sense. Everything was supposed to go according to plan. In and out, and then back to the Kingdom and the castle. Kang Seulgi, her knight, her best friend, her Head of the Royal Guard… She was the best in the Guard. She knew what she was doing, she knew the plan. “What—what does that mean?”

“She went after a fallen knight,” Seungwan explained, tightening. “They’d seen a—a hole, in the ground. There was fire—they think—the reports—the dragon is real—no one’s sure—she didn’t want to leave behind a—”

Again, the image flashed in the princess’ mind. Like a horrible projection burnt through her eyelids, Seulgi coughing blood, reaching out for her, silent and broken.

“Leave me,” was all Joohyun could say, resting her head in her hands. Anymore and tears might come out in place of words. They were already teetering dangerously in her eyes.

“Princess—” Seungwan searched for the words. Anything to stop the crashing and burning she was witnessing in the princess’ broken posture. She had watched the royalty try to carry herself the way she used to, stayed silent every time she saw the blank look flash through the princess’ eyes during meetings. She couldn’t bear to see the princess break now. Not when the princess’ confidence in her knight was what kept her sane the past few days. Not when she relied, in secret, in silence, on the princess’ strength for her own. “She—Seulgi’s going to be—We have reinforcements ready to leave—”

“Please leave, Seungwan,” pleaded the princess.

Seungwan could see Joohyun’s tears on the long table, her small shoulders quaking under a weight she couldn’t imagine. How small she looked without her knight—that idiot—by her side. But no words came out. Instead, the Council Head bit on her lip, stopping her thoughts from flowing, and bowed out. The princess needed her space to process the reports, and so did she. 

Dragons struck fear, indeed, because what else was this creeping feeling crushing down on her ribs? Why was her head ringing, her eyes burning, imagining the worst possible images of her friend in some dark hole up North?

Of course the wasn’t going to leave a soldier behind. She was Head of the Royal Guard for a reason. Of course the fallen knight was the rookie Seulgi had told her about just before they left. Of course Seulgi wouldn’t leave behind her potential replacement—the one other knight she trusted to protect her princess in her absence. That idiot.

No, Seungwan couldn’t think it. Couldn’t let her mind form anymore images she didn’t want to be true. For her sake, and for the princess’ sake. That idiot had to be alive somewhere up North, her stupid grin in full form. That idiot, for whatever reason, was the best of the Guard. She was the Head of the Royal Guard.