Yiren stands alone on a podium - the screen flashes as dozens of camera flashes go on. She looks shy, hesitant as she leans demurely towards the microphone. She has notes gripped in front of her and her hands shake as she slowly reads her scripted answer. “My name is Wang Yiren.” She informs the eager crowd - dozens of reporters look on, eager to snap up whatever falls from and slap it on a headline. Countless more viewers watch Yiren through their screens, either Televisions or news websites, it is being live streamed on nearly every channel. “I was born and raised in an orphanage and actually came in contact with the late Queen of the Miyawaki Kingdom. I don’t think anyone could have guess my true origins.” She says, a little sheepishly, before looking straight into the camera that is providing the live feed. “But I am the Lost Princess. The crowned one - Kwon Eunbi, is a fraud.” At her words, the crowd breaks out in a racket, everyone clamoring for her attention, hoping that their question will be the one she chooses to answer. She does no such thing - instead she continues reading out the speech that someone has undoubtedly prepared for her. “I had my doubts when Eunbi first came forth as the Lost Princess.” She admits. “That contradicted with certain memories I held. I couldn’t shake the doubts, so I had a DNA test performed. Copies of the results are being handed around now. They confirm that I, Wang Yiren, am the closest living relative to the crown and that Eunbi was falsely crowned. I demand that she abdicate immediately and return to me what is rightfully mine.” There is a flutter as papers are passed around to news reporters - someone swaps the feed on the screen to show the DNA results and a quick scan of the results show that Yiren is apparently the lost Princess. The King slams down a piece of paper behind Sakura, with identical results printed on its smooth white surface, and points accusingly at it. “This.” He begins, his voice shaking with barely repressed rage. A vein bulges in his temple as he slams his palm flat on the page. Sakura flinches at the sudden noise. “Is absolute garbage.” Never, in all Sakura’s life, has her father expended the energy to shout as he does now. Sakura likes to think she does a good job of suppressing her fear of her father, but she’d be lying if she said she isn’t shaking in that moment. The room rings in wake of King Shunshuke’s furious shout. “How could you allow this to happen?” King Shunshuke yells, directing all focus and fury at Sakura. Sakura trembles and looks away. “I… I don’t see how I could have prevented it.” Sakura admits. “Even you didn’t see this coming.” “You could have prevented it by putting that orphan behind bars when I told you to.” King Shunshuke snarls. He grabs the paper and jerks it forcefully in Sakura’s face - the top wrinkles beneath the force of King Shunshuke’s grip. “If you weren’t so soft, she wouldn’t be roaming around free to do this. Now, I’ve got Sashihara tracking down whatever quackpot doctor they found to fabricate these results, but if you don’t get out there now and fix this then I can promise you the consequences will not be pretty. Now get OUT!” He says, and to punctuate his statement, he grabs an inkpot and hurls it with full strength at the wall behind where Sakura is standing. Sakura, to her credit, does not flinch as it shatters, spraying ink across the pristine beige wall. King Shunshuke jerks a remote at the TV which is still showing Yiren’s press conference, and her face vanishes. He turns away from Sakura, a clear dismissal. Sakura bows deeply before leaving the room, and she maintains her composure all through the dreaded corridor, and it is only when she reaches the sanctity of the staircase that leads up to her own room that she releases the tension she didn’t know she had been holding in her body. She crumbles to the ground, shaking, her heart racing with absolute panic. Slowly, she uncurls her fingers - she hadn’t realized she had been clenching them, but as her fingers peel away from her palms, she sees red crescent moons carved into the fleshy skin of her palms. Sakura massages her fingers into her temples, willing away the sharp headache that has plagued her since disembarking the plane and returning to the palace. If she feels bad, she is sure Eunbi must feel a million times worse. Eunbi had opted to remain in the IZ*LAND Kingdom while her father recovered from the transplant. Sakur hadn’t understood the specifics of what the doctor had said in her brief visit before her plane trip, but she understood that recovery from such a complex and risky procedure was long and stressful, and that each day brought concerns anew. She remembers when she first met Eunbi and she had been pale and gaunt and stressed. She hadn’t known in at the time, but as Eunbi’s cheeks had slowly filled out over the time she knew her, she had realized just how much the stress of her father’s illness had taken from her. Sakura wants to be there, with Eunbi, making sure she’s eating, making sure she’s sleeping, but Sakura knows she is most useful here. Damage control is what Eunbi needs right now, and so damage control is what she will do. Still, Sakura longs to return back to that morning before the news had broken, where her limbs had been tangled with Eunbi’s and she had been able to feel each gentle puff of breath against her neck as Eunbi lightly snored. The memory of that morning is oddly soothing despite the painfully awkward moments that followed, and it is this recall that allows Sakura to gather herself enough to get to her feet. She needs to fix this - not because her father had ordered and threatened her to do so, but for Eunbi’s sake. Her father is ruthless and Sakura fears that if the scandal is not fixed in time that she may have to divorce Eunbi. She has no doubt that King Miyawaki Shunshuke would do such a thing. Eunbi’s one purpose for her father is to prevent the dissolution of the monarchy. Once she stops fulfilling that role, her usefulness to him is done and King Shunshuke is not the kind of man who keep anything around that does not fulfill a purpose. The thought is one Sakura cannot bear to entertain. The thought of removing Eunbi, who, in a very short amount of time, has somehow become frighteningly vital to Sakura, leaves her a nervous wreck. From the moment their marriage had been arranged, Sakura had been prepared to spend the rest of her life with her, willingly or not, but now she wants to spend the rest of her life with Eunbi. She wants her smile, her warmth, her presence. Sakura wants to rule alongside her, to raise kids with her, to grow old with her. And so the fact that this stupid situation threatens all of that makes her sick with panic. What if Yiren’s actions were enough to take away all these things? She has only recently gathered the courage to allow herself to want these things, to hope for these things, and now it all teeters on the edge of a terrifying precipice. As Sakura walks to her car, she pulls out her phone. Eunbi hasn’t texted her since she sent her a message to let Eunbi know she had arrived safely, but Eunbi is not her target. No, if the media and media coverage is her problem, then there’s really only one person who can help her right now. Someone who will help her fight fire with fire. Someone like Lee Chaeyeon. ********** Chaeyeon looks angry. Her arms are folded across her chest and she taps her foot impatiently against the ground. “When I said you could come to my place, I didn’t mean you could bring her.” Chaeyeon scolds, glaring at Sakura. It takes a lot of courage not to cower beneath the weight of her gaze. Chaeyeon is scary. But ultimately, Hyewon is scarier and so when she discovered Sakura’s plans and insisted that she be brought along, Sakura did not have it in her to resist. Plus, while Hyewon is currently making herself at home by criticizing Chaeyeon’s modest apartment in the most offensive ways she can think of, she genuinely did have Sakura’s best interests at heart. Somehow, she thinks she won’t be able to convince Chaeyeon of that based on how poorly Hyewon’s comment on Chaeyeon’s choice of cutlery sets is received. “Hyewon.” Sakura exclaims exasperatedly. Hyewon turns to Sakura, arching a perfectly plucked brow. “Chaeyeon was kind enough to let us into her home, please stop disrespecting her.” Hyewon shakes her head. “Is anything I’ve said so far a lie though? Look at how mismatched this is - she probably did fish half this stuff out of a charity drive.” She sniffs, folding her arms across her chest. Beside her, Chaeyeon lets out a strangled noise akin to a furious growl, and Sakura is sure that the only thing that stops her from strangling Hyewon is the cautionary hand she holds out in front of her. Just subtly enough that Chaeyeon can take the hint, which she does with an annoyed sigh, turning away from the two of them. “Alright.” Chaeyeon exclaims. “If you’re done, can we get on to the reason you lot are here in the first place? To help Eunbi?” Sheepishly, Sakura nods. She takes a seat on the cream leather couch that Chaeyeon gestures to, and she sets the coffee mug she had been holding in a death grip before her. “It’s only instant. I can’t afford whatever fancy brand you probably drink.” Chaeyeon informs her by way of apology. Sakura shakes her head and smiles sheepishly. “No, no. This is fine - and thank you so much for agreeing to this. I’m sorry about Hyewon.” She tells her. Chaeyeon shoots a distasteful glance at Hyewon, who,