XVIII: OCTODECIM

“Tell me one of your favourite foods.”

“Seriously?” He asks.

“Come on! I need distraction!”

It looks like Taemin and I are not good with consoles. As soon as he crawls into my bed, we occupy separate poles, and sink into an awkward silence. Sure, I wanted him to stay, but somehow when we ended up on the same bed, I became conscious of whether my tear stains would be seen under the moonlight, I became aware of aware of the warm air that humidifies around us and the eerily awkward silence that stretches between us.

It takes me some while to swallow the hoarseness in my throat when I can engage in a normal conversation with him again.

“Beef.” He says, after a long pause. “Not just any sort of… beef— the one I ate in district 12.”

“Before I came to the capitol, meat was rare, exotic food that never entered our mouths. But when meat arrived for the first, and the only time before my rule, my mother didn’t know how to cook it.”

A faint chuckle escapes his lips.

“At the end, she cooked it with garlic and the tint of herbs we picked from the hill behind our neighbourhood.”

“We didn’t have the lavish ingredients and the talented chefs like the capitol did. Half of the meat was rare, and another half was overcooked, but it was the best meal I’ve ever had.”

“Better than any buffet, any delicate cuisine that the capitol served.”

I catch a glimpse of light twinkle past his night-filled pupils. Everyone saw the sufferings of district 12 with cold sympathy or bleak pity, and I thought that was once how I felt. Yet under his imagery, I see his mother’s clumsy fingers, him and his four siblings circling around that tiny piece of steak, and within that colourless and brutal suffering, I saw a spark of life and waves of warmth.

He breaks my silence with the same question. “And you? What’s your favourite food?”

“Me too, meat.”

“I thought you guys are vegetarians.”

I let off a roll of my eyes. He wasn’t the only one with such misconception on a nature sorceress.

“We don’t get meat often as well, but when we do, it’s delicious too.” Compared to district 12, our sufferings weren’t even called sufferings. Unlike them, we get meat once a month as repay from the capitol, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I tell him the days when the majestic orange sphere would transform our land into a vibrant collection of rainbow — when our petals blossom under its rays, when grass sprout out of their sleep, and when Saeun and I could laugh and sprint freely amongst the tall meadows.

I don’t know why I’m being nostalgic all of a sudden.

Maybe because he shared his story, and I feel obliged to tell one in return. Maybe just to recover from my nightmare. Or maybe it’s the growing warmth that stretches between us.

I don’t know.

I don’t want to know, either.

“Show me a talent of yours!” I say, changing the topic.

Under the silvery Artemis glow, he looks at me incredulously.

“I mean—aside from superpowers! Like funny talents!”

Another embarrassing silence pulls between us and I think I’ve made a mistake. Surely for an emotionless person like him, he wouldn’t have the time or effort to make a fool of himself. And even if he did— he wouldn’t really show it to me. Our relationship is never any special one, and I’m sure he wouldn’t oblige to my request at all.

I... also don't mind if he wants to leave. Its still a bit hard for me to get back to sleep… but I guess I could still manage to stay sane for tonight. At least I’ve already removed myself of the horrifying images in my mind.

So I open my mouth for an apology, to say sorry for stepping over our line and seeking for such an immature request, but he cuts me off before I could utter a word.

“I can remove my double eyelids.” He says calmly, as if telling me what he ate for his meal last night.

“H-Huh?”

He lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “I can merge my double eyelids into single ones.”

“Really?!” I let myself imagine him without double eyelids— surely it won’t be a great difference, right? Somehow, having a funny talent is an unexpected, exotic feature of his, and I am surely getting fascinated. Look! The fearsome, mind-controlling lord is showing me how he can remove his double eyelids!

I scuttle towards him in intrigue, but he is quite hesitant to make a fool of himself. “It's quite imperceptible under the dark…”

“No—” I crawl out of the blankets to pull off the curtain, revealing more streaks of moonlight into the room. “Show me!”

He sighs as I scuttle back into the covets, leaning in closer just to see how he does his magic trick.

He places his fingers above his lashes and somehow manages to folds its thin skin. When he closes his eyes and re-opens them again, a stranger has appeared in my sight.

I burst into laughter. He looks exactly like that stupid snowman he built before.

“You—” It takes a while before I catch my breath. “You look like a coward!”

He sends me a look with that strange eyes of his, earning me another giggle.

“Will you get it back?” I ask, suddenly worried for all the heart-broken ladies across the continent.

“Yea it’ll return normal after I do several blinks.”

He blinks for a few times, and then the beautiful orbs come back again.

“Where did you learn that from?”

He shrugs, but it already piqued my curiosity.

“For what? Are you that bored in cabinet meetings?”

He shakes his head. “Mark always say he wants doubled eyelids.” He chuckles, “I just want to show him that single eyelids are great too.”

“But you look ugly with single eyelids…” I trail off, as he sends me another glare.

“That was exactly what Mark said.” He says, and laughter escapes my throat once again.

When I catch my breath, a surge of warmth rushes into my chest. I think of the many things he did for his family. From the gentle embrace he shared with his brother, the softness in his eyes when he talks about his mother, striking a deal with the King for district 12, to even, getting himself poisoned.

He was doing all of this — for his family.

“You want to save your family by gaining the trust of the King, right?” I mutter quietly.

A slight pause follows, and he answers me with one word.

“Maybe.”

Family was always his weak side. I know, since it’s the same for me as well. We all have our secrets, so I don’t pry on his answer.

“That’s… remarkable.” After all, for him to go this far… its surely something that no one can do.

He lets out a dry chuckle. “It’s all worth it.”

“Besides —“ He turns, and suddenly I’m staring into his deep-set eyes, his dark orbs — the one that made me laugh a while ago, the one that mind-controlled me, and the one that I can never take my eyes off from.

“I even got myself a personal healer.” His low murmur buzzes between us, and suddenly I realise that the tips of my shoulder is already touching his, that his breath is right next to my nose, and that his luscious lips are within an inch of mine. It reminds me of the time when I’m this close to him under the fluttering snowflakes, when we’ve joked around in our favourite season, and when he curled the ends of his eyes into a luring trap, and when his lips was a silent tempting invitation…

Despite my racing heartbeat, sanity overwhelms me, and I shift myself back to the respective side of the bed.

There is nothing between us.

Nothing, but just a deal.

I let myself lean on the headboard, pretending to loosen my shoulders and raise a carefree smile. He doesn’t flinch at my sudden drawback. Instead, we pretend everything is fine and continue our dialogue that stretches from district 4 to district 12, from the sweet memories to the nostalgic episodes.

It must’ve been the warm memories of home that make me relax my shoulders. The silk sheets soothe my bare legs and I think sleep is finally coming on my way.

“That night…”  His mutter sends trickling waves into my eardrums.

“The things I said that night…” he continues slowly, “when you were drunk.”

“I meant it.”

When I was drunk? What did he say? I only remember making a fool of myself with my drunken antics.

A small buzz of silence echoes between us as I search through my memory. “What did you say?” I barely manage to mutter back.

“Don’t worry about your friend.” He answers. “She won’t die.”

I let out an empty laugh. I’ve seen her ing the iced blade into her chest, and I’ve seen how the dark palace will rip her into pieces. How can he ensure her safety, when I, myself, as her best friend, cannot fulfil such a promise?

“I promise.” He vows, and I can’t help but to turn my head his way.

There is a new found glint in his eyes — it’s not purple when he mind-controls others, it’s not darkly fuelled with hatred either, but it glimmers under the streaks of silvery moonlight. I see the twinkle of determination, glowing with simmering force, just like Polaris who guides the whole northern continent with its security.

If he is indeed reading my thoughts, I don’t know. But deafening silence stretches between us for decades, and it is only broken by him.

He opens his mouth.

“Do you trust me?”

Do I?

Do I trust him?

Should I even trust him?

I trust him to keep my family safe because of the potion I’m working on, and because of the deal we’re tied together by. But for the things outside of that sheet of promise…

“I don’t know.” I answer him.

Somehow within my heavy lashes and drooping eyelids, all I could think of was the time he catches my vulnerability at the wedding.

When he calms me with a soothing voice, and when he holds me with a pair of strong arms.

At the end, it was his soft murmur that rings in my mind, and I force out the last words before unconsciousness overwhelms me.

“But I hope I can.”

If he answers me, I can’t hear it. I am sinking into a pool of warmth, bathing under the golden rays, and merging with the lavender meadows at home. It is as if I’m curling up against the warm fur in my childhood bedroom, soaked in comfort and mellow.

……

A streak of light seeps through my lids. It takes a while for my pupils to adjust to the blinding rays.

I’d expect to find the view of my fluttering curtains, or the view of my silky sheets sprawl before my eyes.

Instead, when my vision clears, I see a sharp angled jaw.

Then, the tiny black dots along his mandible, his straightened nose, and finally, his sealed lids.

And then I feel my arms curling around his chest, and the warmth of his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

When all sirens ring off my head, his lashes flutters open.

Our eyes clash into a silent battle.

I retrieve my arms from his, and he retrieves his at the same time. My cheeks burns and I jump towards the other pole of the bed, while he turns away, and we both end up facing each other with our backs.

Before I could switch off the sirens and calm my thunderous heartbeat, he leaps out of bed.

“Sorry.” He mutters, while I sit up and shake my head awkwardly, still unable to match his eyes.

The warmth last night must’ve been his embrace. I’m still processing the tangled mess in my brain as he travels towards the door.

“Do… you… feel better today?” He asks quietly, with his back still faced against me.

“Y-Yes.” I squeak. “T-Thank you.”

He nods and scurries out of the door, while I cocoon myself in the silky sheets that were unfortunately stained with his scent of cedar and wood.

~~~~~~~

When the towering gilded doors opened for the Marquis, the sun still hung up high on the clear blue sky. So far through this summer, the gods did not bless any moist to fall from the sky. Taemin wondered if their ancestors were finally punishing the brutal King and his kingdom for his savage cruelty.

But this punishment could never be directed to the old wicked man.

Because the capitol will never let itself wither under the ferocious heat.

Instead, the millions of poor civilians will bear the vicious shocks. Under the strict implementations, only the defenceless humans will sweat ferociously in the dangerous heat, collapse under the whips and guns, and voice out a silent cry with numb features of theirs. The King’s people were already underfed, and at this point, if no rain hits the earth, Taemin was sure the country will perish.

The old monarch was indeed concerned about the blazing heat, but just for maintaining the steady supplies to the capitol, wholly ignoring the millions of lives at stake.

Taemin thought he would be used to the heartlessness of that old man, yet every encounter with him only fuelled the hatred in his chest.

When his carriage reached the mansion, Taemin hurried into his study right away. If there had to be someone that stood for the powerless humans, it would be him. The first and foremost, he was concerned about his own people in district 12. He wrote to his brother and casted him a note for the weather, to make sure his people are well-fed. Just when he sent Ravi with the letter, a knock echoed on his door.

The door knob turned, revealing the Marchioness with solemn eyes and tightly-pursed lips.

After the awkward encounter this morning, Taemin forced himself to match her eyes as he feel warmth crept up his ears. However, glancing into her concerned pupils, he pushed aside the lingering embarrassment.

With no trace of the shyness this morning, she settled in the seat opposite him.

“Do you remember that night when I saw the new King?” She said, and he nods.

“I’ve just got another vision this morning, and the puzzle seemed to have matched.”

He narrowed his brows as she began her analysis.

In her vision, the blazing summer was the beginning of a catastrophe. The fer