To say that their interview went trending was an understatement. The morning news wouldn’t stop talking about them; their faces were plastered on billboards and front pages of the newspapers. Headlines read Feisty Japanese Heiress with a Short Temper: married to Seoul’s Prince? As if things couldn’t get better, several Youtube streamers had now “dug up” information on her and spread them online.

Mari stayed up all night behind the screen, eyes narrowed and fists clenched as they dragged her name around. Claims of her being a fraud heiress due to not being recognized by her family until her twenties arose. They even pulled up ‘evidences’ of her absence, showing several footages of her parents being present in conferences and inaugurations without her. They called her a fake heiress and even demanded a formal statement from the Fujiwara Chairman—her Father—himself. And to no one’s surprise, either the bastard ignored it all or really didn’t know about it (Mari was sure it was the former), he’d been pretty quiet ever since the wedding, leading to these theories being deemed ‘proven.’

Photos of her circulated all over social media while Chanyeol’s faithful worshippers defended him, even going as far as having an online petition for their divorce. Now that one Mari couldn’t comment much about since she would divorce him right away if she could. Petition or not, she didn’t want to stay in their godforsaken penthouse any longer.

He hadn’t been much of help, as well. The self-proclaimed brilliance hid behind his office all day long, pretending to take phone calls whenever she walked in the room. Mari thought she’d be safe within the walls of his company, but eyes followed her everywhere. Out of respect, or perhaps fear, though, no one really said much. Not even Taeyong or Yerim approached her anymore, although they’d never been close enough to be considered actual friends. More like acquaintances than anything, when realization dawned on her that everyone knew who she really was now.

No wonder even her former ‘bosses’ couldn’t look her in the eye now. She’d never been a mundane employee after all, but rather Chanyeol’s fiance, a woman much, much richer and powerful than their boss could ever be. As much as their eyes glinted with curiosity and a little contempt, Mari could still recognize the genuinity of their deep bows and averted gaze. In their minds, they probably believed they were in the mercy of her palm. Although Mari knew she did have that kind of power, she kept shut.

She wasn’t going to be like that.

Maybe a week passed—probably two. Each day she woke up reminded her of the living hell she was in, and every morning was embedded with regret every time she realized she was alone. Sure, Chanyeol was several feet away from the other side of the room, yet ironically enough, loneliness was felt ten times harder in the company of someone you didn’t want to be with.

With the unwanted attention following each step they took, journalists and paparazzi hiding everywhere just waiting for the right moment to pounce, Baekhyun always made sure to keep his distance. If anything, he’d gotten closer to Chanyeol in terms of touch, always on the lookout if anything were to come her husband’s way while maintaining a safe distance from her. He wouldn’t even look her in the eye in fear of adding onto the fire surrounding her. The last thing Mari needed was a scandal should their relationship come into light. She appreciated his actions, she really did, but every time she went to bed, sleep didn’t come easily. She’d toss and turn until her body gave out on her, the only reason she could even fall asleep, although one thought remained constant in her mind.

Tell me you love me.

Show me you love me.

It was selfish, she knew. Baekhyun was restraining himself from even looking at her to keep her safe, so why was she still unsatisfied? It soured her mood for days on end. She and Chanyeol wouldn’t stop bickering, their arguments only halted by phone calls or Jongdae popping out of nowhere. The poor guy seemed terribly awkward in the presence of tension everywhere, yet he managed despite going a little green every now and then.

Mari picked at her nails. She made a mental note to give him a raise someday. Like Baekhyun, Jongdae was another hard worker, enduring every little ty thing Mari and Chanyeol brought with them. It made Mari feel like a little kid sometimes, how Jongdae had to fix the mess they left because the married pair was too immature to deal with things themselves. For once though, Mari allowed herself to lean back in her seat, letting the universe deal with her problems because she was honestly too out of it to even give a miniscule amount of to everything.

Like that day on the interview, Chanyeol and Mari were dressed up again, although a little more modest this time. He’d ditched his suits to a simple white button up with the top three buttons left open, bangs comfortably slewn across his forehead that made him look five years younger. He looked out the window boredly, watching as the view shifted from the skyscrapers of Seoul to the rundown buildings in Gangnam, eyes drooped low.

Mari pinched her thigh, feeling self conscious of herself again. Chanyeol was effortlessly handsome even in minimalistic clothing, while Mari looked overdressed in her pearl-white knee-length dress with a gold chain that served as her collar. Her shoulders and back were bare, revealing smooth skin that was lathered with lotion to give a false effect of healthy luminescence when in reality, her skin was pale and dull due to stress. Her hair was pinned in a low bun, pearl white earrings framing the roundness of her face. She looked like an angel, yet she felt dead inside.

“Do we really have to be filmed again?”

“We’re still in top trending,” he murmured boredly, sounding too tired to even argue with her or give a nasty remark. Chanyeol glanced at her from the side of his eye, however, raising a brow at her. “Especially after that stunt you pulled,” he snorted. Mari opened to retort when the car slowly pulled up to a building that resembled an academy, yet the Gangnam Children’s Home written on top said otherwise. They had a much lesser staff with them this time, with only a few bodyguards (Baekhyun took a day off to hang out with his Dad) and one or two cameramen.

Chanyeol, although barely, visibly lit up at the sight of the homey garden in the front. The rundown walls and chipping paint of the building greeted them, and at Mari’s questioning gaze, Chanyeol smiled for the first time that day. “I go to this orphanage a lot. I’ve been visiting here since I was twenty. The kids are nice, you’ll love them.”

“Is this your way of making small talk? Because I’m not sure it’s working.”

Chanyeol sighed, opening the door for her and extending an arm despite his irritation. “Listen, you ed up as greatly as I have. Can’t we just put this behind us?”

“What, the fact now that everyone knows my Mother is dead and people are trolling me online? Saying stuff how I don’t deserve you and that I’m only after your money?” she rolled her eyes, pressing a thumb to her forehead. “This is so pathetic.”

“Which is why Jongdae suggested this short meeting, to rekindle your bond with the people—”

“They’re not my people,” she corrected hastily, “And they’re the least of my concern.”

“Then why’re you so concerned by what they say?”

“I’m concerned that a hundred people were found paying grave keepers just to see my Mother’s tomb. I’ve had Jongdae sue thirty journalists who’ve allegedly accused me of money laundering, all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Are we really going through this again?” he said, slamming the car door shut. The driver and other staff—the few ones they trusted enough to show their real selves to—all looked away as they argued again. Even Mari wanted to turn away, but Chanyeol was raising his arms in the air in exasperation. “I’m tired, Mari. I’m done. I’ve apologized but things already went to . If you still can’t forgive me, then that’s not my problem anymore. I’ve done what I could do,” he sighed in defeat and leaned against the car, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s save this for another time. The kids are a lot smarter than they look. They can tell right away if something is wrong between us,” Chanyeol offered his palm to her, Mari staring at it with a scowl. “I know you don’t want to do this, but for the sake of keeping appearances, just endure this with me for a little bit. Things aren’t great between us, that much I know, but I’m not your enemy, Mari. I never will be.”

Mari stared at his hand, debating whether she should just take it or not. Her first instinct was to slap it away, but he was right. With pursed lips, she finally laced her hands through his, fighting back the shudder at the coldness of his touch. Chanyeol stiffened from the awkward contact, clearing his throat and looking away. He didn’t say much after that as he led them into the trail that led inside the orphanage when Mari’s heart rate accelerated. She could deal with businessmen, but children?

Chanyeol must’ve felt how her hands trembled in his, because he paused, looking worried. “What are kids like? I’ve never...interacted with one before.”

“They’ll love you. Just be yourself,” was all he said before a nun, or perhaps a nun in training, appeared out of nowhere, a pot of flowers in her hand when she saw them. The faint blinking of a light let Mari know they were already being filmed.

The nun gasped at the sight of them, placing down the pot on the ground before rushing to them. She must’ve been in her mid-forties, although the smile lines on her face made her seem a lot younger than she probably was. “Oh, Chanyeol! You should’ve told me you were coming, the kids would’ve made you a present!” she gushed, crushing her husband in an embrace. Mari stepped to the side, or at least tried to, because Chanyeol’s grip on her wouldn’t let her move away one bit despite his smile. The sister pulled away, beaming up at Chanyeol with her hands now tucked under her chin. “But it’s been quite some time since you last came. They missed you a lot,” her eyes slid over Mariko, the light in them completely fading. “Miss Mariko. It’s an honor to meet you. If I’d known the both of you were coming, I would’ve—”

“It’s okay, Sister Sa. We’re sorry to come by here unannounced. No preparations were needed at all; we just wanted to see the kids.”

“Are you hoping to adopt?” Sister Sa giggled to herself. “My, the kids would be so excited! Chanyeol here would make a great parent and I’m sure you’re going to be an amazing one, as well. Come, come!” She led them into one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. The orphanage really did look like it had been a school at one point with its matching room sizes, although the hallway was littered with walls covered in drawings and a few toys scattered here and there. To Mari’s confusion, only several kids were present.

A little girl playing with dolls in the corner turned her head to them at the sound of their footsteps, showing a broken smile with her missing teeth. She immediately ran to them and launched herself in his arms, Chanyeol crouching down in instinct to catch her. Out of amazement, Mari watched with wide eyes as he rubbed the little girl’s back, his chest rumbling with a low chuckle. “Chanyeollie! You came back! You were gone for so long that I thought you forgot your promise,” she whined, ducking her head in the crook of his neck when her eyes fell on Mari. “Who is she?” she whispered to him.

Chanyeol smiled in Mari’s way, a genuine one this time. With ease, he carried the little girl pressed to his hip as if she weighed nothing. “This is Mariko, my wife.”

“Your wife? Does that mean she’s a princess too?” she turned to Chanyeol with a pout. “But I thought you said I was your only princess.”

“That’s right, you’re my one and only princess,” he nodded enthusiastically, “But Mari here is a queen. She rules over a powerful kingdom and treats her people with respect. Did you know she lives in a palace that looks like a garden in heaven? If you’re nice enough to her, she might invite you for a tea party!”

“She’s pretty,” she mumbled shyly, clutching the doll closer to her chest. Mari flushed at her comment. The little girl was pretty too, with reddish, round cheeks and full bangs that resembled Mari’s. It brought a smile to her face, and the little girl giggled when she did so.

“She’s very kind too. Now go introduce yourself to her.”

“Queen Mari,” she proudly called her, bowing and extending her doll her way. When Mari giggled at her cuteness, resisting the urge to smother her cheeks with kisses, the little girl looked back up with sparkling eyes. “I’m Princess Yuna, Prince Chanyeol’s favorite!”

“You’re his favorite?” she repeated with a light laugh, reaching over to pinch her cheeks. Mari couldn’t help it. Yuna was absolutely adorable. “Well, I can see why. You’ve got bright eyes and a beautiful smile. You’d make an amazing queen someday.”

“A queen? I don’t wanna be one,” she scrunched her nose in disgust, “They’re boring. They just...stay in their rooms and study and be with their King. But princesses get to play and dress up a lot!”

“It can’t be helped. One day you’ll grow up and become a mighty ruler of your own people someday,” she reassured with a nod, glancing inside the room where she stayed. There was a tea set inside filled with toy kettles and teacups. “Chanyeol said you liked tea parties?”

“It’s Prince Chanyeol. He’s not a peasant boy.”

Mari’s head whipped towards Yuna when she noticed the distaste in her voice, almost as if the little girl shuddered. Mari shook the weird feeling off with a laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with peasant boys.”

“Yes, there is. They farm a lot and they don’t have pretty clothes. They talk weird too,” she scoffed, pointing to the room across hers. Mari and Chanyeol followed where she pointed at, only to see a young boy, perhaps only a few years older than Yuna, drawing and muttering to himself in a corner. Yuna frowned. “Eunwoo’s a peasant boy. I don’t like him. He says really weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff like what?”

“He said I couldn’t be a real princess because I was an orphan, and that princesses needed a Mommy and Daddy,” she faced Mari with a hopeful gleam in her eye. “Do you wanna be my Mommy?”

At Mari’s stupefied face, Chanyeol came to the rescue. “She can’t be your Mommy because she and I are married, which means I’m going to be your Daddy, then I’ll be a King.”

“Married? You mean like you’re going to make babies someday?”

Mari and Chanyeol both flushed. She turned away and pressed her chin to her shoulder, wondering why on earth she didn’t let her hair down today. Thankfully, Chanyeol seemed to be in the same state she was, because his ears turned a complete red and he coughed out, “Yes, uhm, something like that.”

“Princess Yuna, can I tell you what makes a princess shine more radiantly than others?” Mari cut off, catching Yuna’s attention who had now listened intently. “It’s when their hearts are filled with kindness. You know what kindness means?”

“Why do you sound different? Are you not Korean?”

Mari blinked back. “No, I’m Japanese. I come from a different country.”

“Then why do you speak our language?”

“I learned it so I could communicate better with people like you,” Mari nodded encouragingly when Yuna tried to mimic her. “That’s right. Com-mu-ni-cate. It means ‘to talk.’”

“Communicate,” Yuna repeated, then fake gagged at the word. “You sound like Eunwoo. You must be a weird Queen too.”

“Princess Yuna, will you listen to me?” Mari repeated, already worried that Yuna had formed a prejudice at such a young age. From what Mari knew, children weren’t hateful unless taught otherwise, or perhaps she must’ve mimicked it from her surroundings. “You should be friends with Eunwoo even though he’s different. Peasants and princesses could be friends. What they do shouldn’t matter at all in friendship, and when a princess is kind to everyone, meaning they’re very welcoming, friendly, and cheerful—yes, just like that,” she tucked Yuna’s hair behind her ear when she grinned. Chanyeol smiled as well, walking closer so Mari could talk to her better. Mari glanced back at Eunwoo, then back at Yuna. “Then they’re going to be a princess that everyone will love. Maybe they’ll even live happily ever after.”

“I want to be a kind princess!”

“And you should be. So try being friends with Eunwoo, okay?”

“Sure, but,” she looked down at her little fists, eyes glistening with tears. “Eunwoo doesn’t like talking to people. He doesn’t even let the sisters come near him that much.”

Chanyeol stepped closer to whisper in her ear, head hung low and his breath fanning her ear. Mari shuddered when it tickled her. “Eunwoo was an abduction victim. He was kidnapped when he was four when his parents, who were international lawyers at the time, couldn’t defend a criminal,” his voice grew lower and nearly inaudible, eyes darkening. “His parents were murdered in their home, Eunwoo taken afterwards. It took a year before he was found stranded on a beach, probably left to die. He spent some time in therapy houses but he didn’t like the atmosphere of the institutions, so social services put him here in hopes he could heal better around people his age.”

Mari’s heart sank. “Do the kids know that?”

“Are you two having the adult talk?” interrupted Yuna with her head tilted to the side, a finger pressed to her lips. “Sister Sa told me not to in when the adults are having an adult talk. They said I wouldn’t understand, but Yuna is very smart.”

“I was just wondering what Eunwoo liked. Maybe I could give him a little gift,” said Mari gently. She tried to shake off the heavy feeling in her chest at Eunwoo’s background. No child should ever have to go through that. In fact, the dread shook Mari to her core that she could barely stand on her two feet, but for the sake of the little boy, she kept herself standing tall. “Do you know what he likes?”

“Roses! Eunwoo loves roses! But the sisters never let him have one because they said it would hurt him,” she announced, then leaned back into Chanyeol’s chest, playing with his collar. “I d