Minho

The creaking of the opening door can't promise anything good. The guards only come in here once a day, when they bring us some bread and stale water.

So today is the day. Siwon has told me that he will ensure that the prince is present at the hanging.

If I can see his face one last time then, death can't be that bad.

I am sorry for the loyal men who accompanied me. They deserve better than this. They deserve a happy and quiet life.

An approaching shadow dances in the flickering light. I take one deep breath and exhale. I am ready and will leave this world with my head held high.

My gaze glides to long legs wrapped in beautiful silk. And the upper part of his body also looks familiar. It may be wearing noble fabrics with vibrant colours, but I am sure that it is the body that wore my old shirt.

My eyes find their way up to the pair of eyes I have longed for, for so long. Those sparkling eyes, they have looked at me with fear, with anger and with sadness.

Those full lips that let loose a tender voice, but that can also be so loud and insulting.

Somehow I wish for that time to come back. It was so carefree.

The long brown hair that is now so neatly done up and not hanging in his beautiful face.

"Titty, you look pretty sharp when you're not walking around in filthy rags." Jonghyun brings me back from my daydream. I am so perplexed that I am at a loss for words. But who can blame me at this sight.

"I'm glad to see you too, Jonghyun." Warmth floods my tightening heart as I hear his voice.

"I missed you!" I wish those words were for me.

"I couldn't agree more with Jonghyun." Says Jinki, looking happily at the prince. But I can only agree with Jonghyun too. He is beautiful.

"Lucas, it's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too."

"What..." He looks at us, puzzled.

"Yep. He's talking now." Jonghyun confirms his confusion.

"Lucas that's great!" You can hear the joy in his voice.

The prince turns to me now. It's hard for me to look at him. He's so noble and finely dressed, and I'm sitting here in my bloodstained rags. My hair is a mess and I certainly still have a bruise or two from when Siwon's men beat me up. How can he not look disgusted when he looks at me?

"Don't you recognize me at all? You look like you've seen a ghost." He looks down at the ground as he says this.

A strand of his hair has fallen forward, which he tucks behind his ear. I feel my breathing quicken. Now I hope that many bruises decorate my face, because I notice how I am turning red.

Jinki said that a compliment would help. But what can I say? No word I know does him justice. But if I saw him today for the last time, I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't tell him everything. But what good would that do? He is the prince and I am only a poor convict on the run. He will never return my feelings, he may even laugh at me. But none of that will matter in a few days. I gather all my courage.

"Your Majesty..."

"Minho..." we start at the same time and for a brief moment we look into each other's eyes. He holds his hand over his mouth as he laughs.

"Please just call me Taemin." Taemin. I get to call him by his first name. He looks shy, but I don't think I'm striking a better figure right now.

"What were you going to say?" he wants to know, looking at me with his big eyes eagerly.

"Well, I...you start, please." I mutter to myself. My fists are clenched around the bars.

"It's really unbearable with you two." I hear annoyed from the cell next to me. I try to keep calm, because I don't know how long this moment will last and I don't want Jonghyun to ruin it for me.

"I'll turn to the wall and count the bricks." Jinki says calmly and Lucas follows suit.

Oh my God! I don't think anything more humiliating has ever happened to me.

But my embarrassed mood quickly eases as Taemin giggles at their behaviour.

"Very well then. I'll get you out of here." I have to smirk a little at his eagerness.

How is he going to do that? Even if he is the prince, it won't undo my reputation.

"But for that, I need to know the truth." His fingers wrap around mine and for a moment I forget to breathe.

They are so tender and soft, like a warm bed. Like a home. And again I wonder why he doesn't turn away from me in disgust. My hands are rough, dry and full of scratches.

"Please Minho, tell me what happened back then. You didn't kill Captain Lee, did you?" I would love to tell him everything. The way he said my name. The way he looks at me. He believes in my innocence. But then what becomes of Yoona?

Gently, his thumb the back of my hand.

"What happens then?" I ask him, whispering. He lowers his shoulders.

"Then I will look for the proof that will get you free." My head aches. Can I trade four lives, including mine, for Yoona's? I promised to protect her. How could I betray her now?

"If I tell you the truth..." His hands grip mine tightly.

"You don't have to worry. We will find a solution." He assures me and I want to believe him.

"Can you promise me that nothing will happen to my family?" I break free from his grip and take his small, soft hands now into mine. I have never felt anything so delicate.

Taemin looks to the side and nods his head eagerly. I think it makes him uncomfortable, so I release his hands, even though I would have preferred to hold them longer.

Pleased, I cut the red apple in my hand. I can already smell its fruity sweetness and don't want to waste a single drop. Today there is a little more food than usual, so mother has allowed me to eat it. For the Peace Festival, the king sends out a lot of food to every village. Everyone should be able to celebrate the end of the war sixteen years ago.

Many men died in the war, many villages were destroyed. Thus, many farmers and other men had to give up their occupations. My father was one of them.

Wistfully, my gaze moves to the pocket knife in my hand. It belonged to my father. He gave it to me when he went to war. He was killed shortly before the end of the war. Since then, my mother and I have been living together with my uncle and my cousin Yoona.

A wide variety of fruits grow in our garden, but the most popular are our apples. They bear the richest red and have the strongest taste than all the others. We can charge good money for them at the farmers' market, which is why I am never allowed to eat them myself.

Except today.

But only a few rich people ever come to a small village like ours and can afford them at full price. We store most of them and make compote, wine or jam from them. My uncle Minseok then goes to town and can sell all our goods. But by the time he gets to town, there is little of the wares left. Because even though our apples are popular, they don't bring in that much money. He usually sells them cheaper, or gives them away to the other villagers because they could never afford them.

"You rascal!" says Yoona giggling as she approaches me. Her fun-loving nature is simply everlasting. Even in the darkest moments, she finds hope, and that's what I admire so much about her. No matter how often her father yells. No matter that she no longer has a mother. I may be older than her, but I can't help but look up to her. Nothing in this world can bring her to her knees.