XVI: SEDECIM

The wheels turn as time ticks by and the capitol fly past our carriage window. It’s the royal ascot today. The day where Prince Myungsoo would plan an assassination against his family and Taemin. 

Though I have told Taemin about it, my stomach still churns, and I find myself pursing my lips. 

The carriage stops, signalling our arrival. Taemin seems to sense my worrying thoughts. Before he steps outside, he turns to stare into my trembling pupils. 

“Trust me.” His voice hangs low between us. 

I know I should trust him — he never had anything that ravels out of his control — he always had everything  in the palm of his hand — that’s why he became the Marquis now. But somehow there’s a heavy rock in my chest. 

I barely force out a smile as I step out, but my foot acts more honest than my lips, as it trips over a ledge. Luckily, before I land flat on the floor (and embarrass myself on my first appearance as the Marchioness), he catches me with his arms, engulfing me into an embrace. 

My cheeks flare — both from embarrassment and shyness, but he doesn’t let go of his arms just yet. 

Instead, he leans forward with his brown luring eyes. 

“You’re not trusting me to the point that you’ve missed your step.” He says quietly, but I see the faint smirk on the corner of his lips. 

I send him a glare, but all mischief vanishes as he continues. 

“This was your vision, and you’ve chose to tell me about this.”

His forehead is almost touching mine, and his voice tingles my ears. 

“Trust me. We’ll be safe.”

He mutters with the sound that only us can hear. 

I return my gaze to his, as the rock on my chest shifts ever so slightly. 

The sound of a cleared throat echoes awkwardly from the distance, and he moves aside. 

I’m in a knee length lavender dress, made from silk crepe, with mid-sleeve and collar details. I bought a wardrobe of purple shaded colours long ago, a week before the wedding, yet I’m so used to wearing green that when my maids bring out the purple collection, I almost flinched. 

Purple is my colour now. The colour of the house I belong in. 

The hems of my pleated skirt flutters against the early summer breeze. I shake off the lingering thoughts in my head and hook my arms around him automatically, then find myself surrounded by several houses, who did not bother to hide their curious gazes and smirks. 

I tug him closer as we walk by, nodding at greetings and giving off polite smiles, as if nothing happened. 

Most houses return a polite smile, as if they did not see us leaning close to each other at the entrance. Others, though, do not bother to hide their judging looks. 

“My lord, my lady, looks like you are both still enjoying the lingerings of your honeymoon.” 

We return him a chuckle, while I grit my teeth inside my head. 

You shouldn’t have created a scene. I scold him. 

You shouldn’t have tripped on the carriage either. I was merely saving you from landing on the floor. He returns. 

“My lord,” a courtier dipped his head. “His majesty awaits.” 

All banter that existed between us now vanishes, as I share a glance with Taemin. He pats my hand on his arm reassuringly, before leaving the enclosure.

I trace his silhouette with my eyes. Normally I would do this part of the act, but today, there is a linger of sincerity in them. 

A voice echoes behind me. 

“Lady Son.”

Standing behind me, Chorong corrects the water lady. 

“It’s Marchioness, your ladyship.” 

She flinches, and I see her force out a smile that looks worse than a scowl.  “Marchioness.” The words slip from her gritted teeth, and I finally turn my head around, pretending to notice her. 

“Lady Bae.” I nod. 

Learning from her lesson last time, she doesn’t spit any spiteful words, instead she turns to greet my friend, the Princess-to-be. 

“Lady Jung.” 

Soon, other ladies surround us in a cocoon - both the newlywed Marchioness and the future Queen consort. I barely have the mind to think of the assassination later, since I have to deal with the ladies with perfect curls and polite words. 

Besides, Krystal’s forced smile was another limestone that only weighed heavier on my heart. Frankly, it has never gone away after she had been selected. I can only figure out how to save her after we go through the assassination.

Soon, after a small talk with the King, Taemin returns, and the royal family begins their entry through a carriage. We were seated on the second row, with the King, Prince Kai and Prince Myungsoo in close proximity. I try to suppress the anxiety off my chest and raise a few smiles, but when the horse race begins to proceed, I can’t help but to turn my gaze to the empty roofs afar.

According to my vision, the assassins will fire their guns from the roofs— when the racestarter squirts his starting gun, bullets will rain from the sky. 

I take a side glance at the empty roofs, then I catch a glimpse of black shadows. 

The horses and riders get ready, as the racestarter holds up his starting gun. 

The black shadows cluster, and I catch a glimpse of a machine gun.

The trigger is pulled.

I clench onto the hems of Taemin’s sleeve. 

He gives me a smile. 

The machine gun fires, right when the start gun blasts.

~~~~~~~~

Naeun embraced the rain of bullets, the cacophony of screams, and the chaotic splutter of blood and tears. 

Yet, instead of bullets, something else emerged from the tips of the guns. 

She looked down to find a purple snip of ribbon landing on her palms.

She glanced back at the shadows behind the roof. They panicked, clashing their guns with each other, before quickly disappearing into darkness. As the racing horses continued to sprint across the track, gasps echoed amongst the audience.

She turned sharply to her husband, who had a few more confetti landing on his forehead. She looked at him with puzzled brows, while he returned her a sly smirk coupled with a wink in his eyes. Before she could react, a boisterous voice echoed on the row in front of them. 

“What is this?” The King was showered in confetti. There was a comical contrast, as the white-beard man was engulfed in a tornado of colourful snips. 

The Marquis shook off the confetti from his shoulders, as he wandered towards the King. 

“Your majesty,” He bowed. “This sprinkle of confetti is done to wish you for longevity and luck of the first race.” 

The King barely managed to conceal his surprise. He cleared his throat awkwardly, then squirted out an amused curl on his lips. 

“Who…’s idea was this?” 

Taemin stole a glance at the figure beside the King, who was also wrapped in a mess of colours. He stifled a smile. “I am honoured to receive the order from your beloved heir, your majesty.” 

Prince Kai raised his brows and blinked without a word. After catching a look from Taemin’s eyes, Kai chuckled awkwardly. “Y-Yes… father. I… I’d thought it would be nice… to—well, lift up the spirits and hopefully, get your horse to… uh… attain this energy as well!” The Prince directed his eyes to the track, before pointing to it excitedly. “See, father! There! Your horse is leading its way!” 

The King glanced between them as his courtiers swept off the confetti. It was an unexpected act, but he didn’t mind the attention. Plus, seeing his Prince and the Marquis with such partnership does reassure him. He raised a lazy smile before dismissing his men and settled back to his seats. 

Meanwhile, Prince Myungsoo struggled to maintain his fake smile. His eyes flashed dangerously as he gritted his teeth and curled his fists beneath his sleeves.

Where are my bullets? He thought. 

He shot a glare at his most trusted ally, the new metal lord, who was equally as puzzled as him. 

He had countless questions in his head: Who replaced his bullets with confetti, Who knew their plans, who ruined them last minute.

Soon, he found his answer. 

Only one man could pull his strings right under the King’s nose.

He swept his eyes past the suited Marquis, who raised a quick smirk towards his way. 

His chest fumed and he refrained himself from screaming in rage. 

The Marquis, the Marquis, the Marquis.

Myungsoo knew he was a dangerous man — in fact, everyone knew. And when he rejected his proposal for ally, Myungsoo expected much worse to come for the Marquis. After his assassination succeeds, the Marquis will be left with nothing. He would prove it to the lord, that he surely chose the wrong side to stand with. 

Yet before everything could happen, the Marquis ruined it right in front of his eyes. 

He had no idea where the plan went wrong, how the Marquis managed to slip past his men to replace his bullets with confetti. 

This was the most dangerous aspect of this man. 

He was tearing apart the Prince’s fortress one by one, without him noticing. 

Myungsoo always thought that he could deal with his old father and his dense other son first. He thought that without his owner, the Marquis would be a harmless dog. 

But he was wrong. He had clearly underestimated the lord. 

Compared to his father and the half-brother, the Marquis is most certainly his greatest threat to the throne.

Myungsoo took a deep, shuddering breath as he curled his fist until they dug deep into his palms. There’s no choice then.

He had to kill the Marquis first.

……

Three weeks later. 

“Lady Jung, you look stunning!” 

“I’m sure his highness will be absolutely mind-blown when he sees you in this dress!”

She squeezed out a curl on her lips at the palace courtiers, as they shoved her with more sets of lavish dresses. 

Krystal isn’t used to squeezing out smiles and forcing out words that didn’t belong to her. But everyone says that she’s becoming the Princess, the future Queen, so speaking with poise and manner was most definitely part of her job. 

The curtains were swept, and all that was left was a lifeless doll in white reflected from the mirror. 

She never expected to spend the rest of her life like this. She expected marriage, yes, but away from the palace turmoil and the political unrest. Perhaps she would marry a merchant, or another noble of the other districts, and most definitely, a man of love. 

But never, a Prince. 

However, realities were harsh. For the next decades of her life, she will be trapped inside a cage, with a man she doesn’t love, a home she doesn’t belong to, and a black hole that she can never escape from. 

Maybe that’s why Kings always get concubines. 

Because they never marry their Queens out of love. 

To be honest, Prince Kai was gentle with her. He had never pressured her into anything, and most of the time, when she remained quiet, he would either start off another conversation, or let her sink in silently, giving her time for personal thoughts. 

She did not miss the twinkle and adoration in his eyes. 

But the Prince is only a man, and who knows, he is probably just another guy who fell for her face. 

She was sure, that soon, he would lose interest in her, get a few more concubines of his own, and instead of being a Princess who lives happily after, she would become Rapunzel, who sits on the top of the tower with no one, and nothing for the rest of her life.

~~~~~~~~

Naeun

I am back in the familiar blinding glint of shimmering gold, the same chamber when I was supposed to be the wife of Prince Kai. The walls are painted in crimson red, with a chandelier and embellishments enlightening the room. 

Instead of myself, it is now my dearest friend who occupies this lavish chamber. In the midst of the grace and wealth and blinding lights, she sits on the ground, with her knees bent and her body slipped in a burgundy chiffon dress.  

When she lifted her head from the crooks between her bent knees, she was someone I’ve never seen before.

She was a ghost. Her eyes were black buttons and her lips were ghastly pale. Before I could look in further, the world swirls, and I see what caused her deterioration. 

First, the spiteful words from the Queen: “Your job is just to produce an heir, why the hell is it taking this long?”  In a golden and red robe, she sits on her engraved throne, looking down at her daughter-in-law from above, with a glare in her eyes. “I don’t know why his majesty chose you, out of all ladies.” 

Second, the disdainful eyes of Princess Jennie. Despite Krystal being the future-Queen, she gives no respect as she knocks her off her path. “There’s only one Princess in this Kingdom. And it’s me, not you, weakling.” 

Third, the condescending smirks of Concubine Kwon, knowing that her son’s competitor has a weak wife. 

 Fourth, the ignorance of the King, who watches her sink off day by day with a cold eye of his own.

And last of all, her husband, the Crown Prince of Elantris. He was a bit different— because there was fondness and love in his eyes. Unfortunately, that fondness cracked, leaving a single slit of weariness that slips past his glances.

A crystallised knife appears between Krystal’s finger’s, as I watch her fist clench on the hems of the icy weapon.

“Mama, Papa, Unnie…”   She whispers. 

“I’m sorry.” 

A tear slides down her cheek. 

She s the knife into her own chest.  

I open my eyes with the same tear sliding down my own cheek. 

I have pushed my friend to the edges of the cliff. 

And now, inside the misogynistic, barbaric court, the icy girl will shatter into pieces. 

But there was nothing I could do. Her wedding was on the way, and there was no chance of removing her name from the imperial decree. I’ve squeezed my brain and explored options but none of which were feasible. 

I am watching my friend step on the last stones to death. 

It has been a long while since I’ve seemingly accepted Krystal’s doomed fate, but now, seeing her real death from the future only rips open the fresh wound in my heart again. 

Being hopeless and powerless, all I could do is to find something to numb the pain. 

……

The same old mahogany door that lies in front of me. Inside this door, lies his frequent residence, where he would weave his webs and conduct his plans and deceiving lies. 

But to me, it’s more than that. 

Our deal was a game changer for me. It saved me and my family from drawing into the chaos, from screaming in agony and from the curses of death. 

Yet the deal that saves my life, was also the same one that kills my friend.

As I stifle a sigh, the door swings open, revealing my same old deal partner with his calculative glasses hung on the rims of his nose.

He raises his brows, surprised that I would step into his territory. While he occupies his office on the ground floor, I take the attic for my poison laboratory, perhaps occasionally the basement pool or the multi-functional rooms on the first floor, where I could paint and draw.

Another punch of guilt hits my heart. While I’m essentially living the best, if not, the most peaceful life, Krystal was going through hell. 

How great of a friend I am.

I suppress my thoughts — knowing that