XX: VIGINTI

There is a special power in that magic potion named alcohol. It can numb all the pain and bring you to heaven, but it can also bring you to hell with a striking headache and a memory that haunts your mind. 

I’ve spent a couple of years swirling through the courts, remembering words and deciphering calculative moves as I cling my glass against every important figure of the continent. 

Yet I’ve never felt as defeated, humiliated and embarrassed as now. 

When the streak of morning dew slips through my lids, the only thing I remember is the feeling of her lips on mine. 

The way her lips were softer than any type of petals on earth. 

The way her lips tasted as sweet as nectar.

And the way our lips clashed into a harmonious cacophony. 

It took me a while to navigate through my striking headache and ruffled sheets to realise that the memory was real. 

I feel the blazing heat on my cheeks, my ears, and the haunted voices and scenes replaying over and over in my skull. 

If I remembered what I have said, maybe I would have some context, and I would know what to say to her as an excuse. 

But the worst thing is, I don’t remember what else I did or said to her. 

I only remember the kiss — the way fits mine perfectly. 

~~~~~~~

Naeun

I threw him on the bed without another single thought, snapped his doors shut, and travelled back to my own chambers under the dim light. When darkness surrounds me, when the silky sheets embrace me, and when my eyelids flutter close, the thump in my chest is still a deafening roar against my ears.

The feeling of his lips still haunts me like a ghost, and I twist and turn and tumble, yet no matter how hard I shake this image off my mind, it replays itself like a broken player over and over again. 

“You make me feel.” He said.

What does that mean?

What did I make him feel?

Annoyed? Curious? Troubled?

Or, is it attraction?

No, no, no, surely not… 

Romance…

Right?

But he was different in the way he stares at me with a magnetic pull in his eyes, from the way his eyes engulf the whole universe, and from the way he leans in carefully and softly…

Taemin had never been like this. Throughout our six-month period of betrothal, then marriage, Taemin was always emotionless, a meticulous calculator, a deceitful schemer, a mysterious leader. The only time he showed a tint of emotion through his smouldering orbs, was either when he talked about his family, or when we see the poor civilians screaming silently under the Kim’s rule. 

Even when he comforts me during the night, I always thought it was his mercy, or perhaps, just a sort of… friendliness. 

Not romance. 

And definitely not love in any way. 

And so this thought brings me into a spiral that I could never escape from, even when the morning sun rises, the heaviness in my eyelids never comes, as I lie there, silently and frozenly contemplating what our kiss would imply. 

When the chandelier hangs above us in the breakfast room, I wonder if he remembers a single thing. 

I would rather him forget everything. 

I would rather last night to be a night of mistakes. 

Something that would be buried in the deeds of alcohol. 

Something that we would never have to discuss, or contemplate on.

Because the boundary between us is already blurred. From the way he cuddles me during the night — our line is already clouded, and I do not want this cloudiness to go any further. 

Emotions were never part of my plans, nor his. 

We have said to each other, long ago on the day before our wedding, that both of us do not need feelings, and both of us only need our brains, not our hearts. 

It is only with our brains, that's why we were able to survive through this terrifying turmoiled kingdom. 

It’s better if I’m the only one who remembers this. It’s better if only I know how soft his lips feels, how sweet it tastes…

STOP. 

I scream to myself as, for the millionth time, I try to shake that particular image off and shake my head. My mouth is coated with dryness, and the only thing between us is the sound of utensils against their plates. I send him a quick glance, but he keeps his gaze focused on the plate in front of him. 

Good. I tell myself, as I press down the weird sourness in my heart. 

Yes. Good that he doesn’t remember. 

Good that he doesn’t—

He breaks the silence with a clear of his throat. 

I don’t want to look at him. 

I don’t want to look at him just yet, when somehow, somehow, I’m scared of what he might say next.

“Sorry.”

“Last night…” he opens slowly. 

“I was a bit… too… erm… intoxicated… so… I might have done something…” he coughs, “inappropriate—and… without proper caution… and thought.”

I lift up my head to match his eyes. His pupils tremble just a bit at our contact, yet they manage to stay steady for the next sentence.

“I apologise if any of those actions offended you last night.”

He speaks so sincerely that I almost forgot that Taemin is also a gentleman at the same time. I forget the way he always stands apart when we don’t need to act. I forget that he never takes advantage of me. I forget that he never touches or hugs me if I don’t ask him to. I almost forgot how well he does his job on being a perfect deal partner. 

I try to ignore this weird, sinking feeling in my chest. 

“It’s fine.” I say, forcing out a smile that hopefully looks carefree.

He purses his lips and lets out a frustrated sigh. “I… I didn’t… know… how… what happened… but…” 

“I’ll keep my boundaries next time.” There’s a determined glint in his eyes and I see the blurred line between us is once again sharp and defined. 

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” I say, raising my brows with a smile. “I was hoping you’d fall for my beauty.” 

He looks visibly relieved before letting out a chuckle, and once again, balance is restored between us. Yet when I close my eyes that night, my journey in bed was not steady. From his luring orbs, his soft lips, to my best friend’s hollowed pupils, Myungsoo’s hysterical laugh, and the scarlet gushes of fluid on the palace floor — they pull my sanity back and forth into a violent tug of war. 

And when I wake up with a muffled scream again…

Only silence answers my flowing tears. 

As promised, he keeps his boundaries.

So, I wipe off the tear stains on my cheek, take in a shuddering breath, then cocoon myself back into the warmth of my sheets, hoping dawn would be a better replacement for Taemin. 

……

Dawn comes as promised. I let Chorong and Bomi fill my sunken eyes with heavy powder before I leave my room. When he comes for breakfast, I don’t ask why he doesn’t come into my room anymore. 

I force out a smile. “You’re going to the palace today?”

“Do you want to come?” He asks, and I look up at him in bewilderment. 

“Aren’t you going for cabinet meetings?” A woman is in no place for such matters. The palace is a sacred temple, and even as high ranked as a Marchioness, ladies can only enter once or twice every year. This was also why I knew I will have little chance to see Soojung. 

And little chance to save her. 

“Its a meeting with the Crown Prince at his newly renovated sectors. His highness looked like he wanted to show me around, so I asked for permission to bring a spouse.” 

“And he granted it?” The half-eaten toast remains still in my palm. 

He nods. 

“So…?” 

“So,” he answers on my behalf, “the Crown Princess will have your company.”

And that’s it. I don’t need to wait until winter to see Soojung. I don’t need to wait until she withers under the broken glass and bloody carpets before I can save her. 

Somehow, I see a glimmer of hope. 

I can save her. 

……

I slip on a lilac dress with a bateau neckline, and sleeves up to my wrist. Amethyst earrings hang on my earlobes as Chorong fixes my hair and Bomi finishes the final touch on my cheeks. 

When I descend down the spiral stairs, Taemin is already waiting at the doorstep. I slip on my praline pumps, and there, I am ready to see Soojung. 

On the carriage, he doesn’t take out his papers of work. Instead, he sits silently, with his gaze set on the window. I wonder how he was able to get such permission. Even though he had earned the King’s trust, royal protocols were surely not easy to break. 

“How did you manage to get permission for me? Isn’t it hard?”

I hope he didn’t get himself into another poisonous deal or something.

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t hard, don’t worry.”

I release a sigh of relief on his behalf, but the stone in my heart only weighs heavier for Soojung. I wonder if she’ll look as sunken and pallid as I’ve seen her in my vision. I wonder if she underwent all those hisses and taunts within the cold palace walls. 

I replay her death in my head over and over again as the carriage comes to a halt. My legs moved on their own as I stepped out of the carriage. An immense skylight rises above us, showing a blue summer sky full of clouds to taunt me. 

A courtier leads our way through the golden arched doors into the hollowed hallways. I imagined how Soojung would walk past this everyday, forcing her back straight, and forcing a smile to all the courtiers, maids— 

A soft touch on my palm jolts me awake. 

He grasps my hand gently, as I send him a questioning look. 

Before he answers my question, I cast a look around the hallway. 

Right. The act. 

I’ve entirely forgotten about the act. 

I take a deep breath inwardly, then try to force out the perfect loving smile like before, but he interrupts me before my lips crack into a curl. 

“Don’t force it if you can’t.” His voice appears in my mind. 

I’d expect him to tell me to polish up my act, but I would never expect him to let it off. After all, we are trekking on dangerous grounds. 

“Are… you sure?” I send him a look silently. 

“Of course. There’s nothing they can say. We’re already married.”

Then why is he holding my hand? Maybe he hears my thoughts, but I don’t say it to him. Ever since that kiss, it’s been a week since he stepped into my room, and weirdly as it seems, the careful tug on my hands only reminds me of the time when I could lean into his embrace and forget all my worries. 

Despite the fact that I can’t have it now. 

At least, this will give me some comfort. 

The courtier stops in front of a marbled door. 

“Excuse me a moment, my lord and my lady.” He dipped his head towards us, as the servants notify Crown Prince and Princess of our arrival. 

As we wait for the gilded doors to open, I hear his voice once again, echoing in my head. 

“You’ll save her.” He says, without any doubt or hesitation. 

I send him a spurt of empty laugh. “And why are you so sure of that?”

He turns, and I find myself staring back into his smouldering orbs. 

“Because…”

We share a glance above our intertwined fingers.

“You’ve got me.” He says. 

My heart skips, and my breath hitches. But I barely have time to comprehend and digest whatever he meant about me having him — does he mean that he will help me? Just for the sake of his partner? Or was it for something else? 

My brain swirls into a strand of questions, but the doors swing open, and I am brought inside this room shaded in crimson, accented by gold detailing. Exquisite furnishings and tapestries fill the vaulted room. “Your royal highnesses.” Taemin bows, and I quickly lower myself into a curtsy as the royal couple come into view. 

The Crown Prince is dressed in a mix of finery black and red, while the Crown Princess dons a scarlet dress, with a glimmering ruby necklace chained on her collar and diamond earrings dangling on her ear lobes. I cannot recognise that this ethereal doll is my friend I’ve known for the past decade. 

I swallow a gulp and press down the rising warmth in my eyes. 

“Welcome, Marquis and Marchioness.” The Crown Prince gestures towards the seating vignette. “Please, take a seat.” 

Servants rush in to pour us warm tea. Soojung—or, the Crown Princess masters a perfect smile. “To commemorate your lordship and ladyship’s arrival, our servants have prepared fresh Jasmine tea and some cakes. Please, take a sip.”  

“It is our honour to enjoy such delicacies. Thank you, your royal highness.” Taemin dips his head respectfully again, and I mirror his action with a mannered smile. 

The Crown Prince chuckles. “It is great for my wife to have the company of the Marchioness.” He sends her a look, and she rips open a forced curl. 

“Besides,” he turns back to Taemin, “it is the first time my advisor has made such a sincere request for his wife. Of course, I had to acknowledge this favour.” He smiles, while I try my best not to look bewildered. 

So… he literally asked the Crown Prince a favour for me? How would that be easy?

Taemin shakes his head with a smile, while I press down the rising questions in my head and send Krystal a truthful smile. “It is my honour to be her royal highness’s company.” 

She catches my gaze and gathers up to her feet. “How about I bring the Marchioness around, while you can discuss your matters?”

The Crown Prince nods, and I stand for a curtsy. 

“This way, Marchioness.” The soft tone in her voice shocks me, and I force another smile as we retreat into one of the golden doors.

~~~~~~~

Krystal

Keep your back straight. Curl your lips. Lift your voice. I remind myself over, and over again, even when my knees want to crumble on the cold floor, and when I want to crash into Naeun’s arms. 

I think of all the words I can say to her. I’m doing well, don’t worry. I’m fine, it’s great to see you. I’m happy. 

But I don’t want to tell her the lies she already knows. 

My head is still stuck in debate, but catching a look from her, I know, I can’t stand forcing myself into someone I’m not anymore. I am becoming someone unknown to myself, and inside my rotten heart lies a slowly withering soul. Everyday, my mind is preoccupied with the protocols, the servants, the whispers of the palace, the outfits, the perfect smiles, and I haven’t realised how painfully heavy it weighs on my shoulders until Naeun appears before my eyes. 

She is the only person that represents my past and reminds me of my true identity, and the only figure that brings my sanity out of the dark. 

So I usher her to my chambers quickly, desperately clinging onto this lifeboat that has fallen from the sky. 

I send the servants away, and when the doors snap shut, I still don’t know how to explain to her what I’ve become, how broken her best friend had become—

She wraps her arms around me. “Soojung.” 

She calls me the name that I’ve almost forgotten. 

The identity I once had. 

Myself.

My stiff shoulders, straight back, and forced smiles vanish. 

All the taunting voices, the condescending gazes, the smirks and sneers disappear from my head. 

“My dear, dear,” she stifles a gulp. 

“I’m sorry.” She chokes a sob. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Soojung-ah.”

Before I know it, the broken dam in my orbs bursts open, and tears stream down my face, as she tightens her arms around me, and I feel myself clinging back into her warmth. 

She whimpers, and I can tell she is trying to suppress the overflowing emotions at bay. 

“You did so well.” She whispers and soothes my back, as I bury my head in her shoulders.

“I’m so proud of you, Soojung.”

I think of the taunting voices from the nobles, the condescending gazes that the other families had sent me, the hidden smirks and sneers from servants. They all think this Crown Princess is one of a weak background, one that will not help her husband to the throne, one that remains helpless and heirless in this power struggle. 

Yet no one knew all the muffled cries and silent tears that I have shed throughout the past few weeks. And no one said I did well. No one said I did a good job of memorising the protocols, for changing my form and posture, from the tone of my voice to the way I smile. No one said I did a good job of speaking painfully like a true royal now. 

No one. 

So I let myself pick up the remnants of my tattered soul, and I let myself scoop up my heart that has already melted into pieces. 

When my tears finally run out, I whisper back in her ears. “You’ve kept your promise.” My lips finally curl out into a real smile. 

She promised me that she will come back for me, and she will be there when I need her the most. 

“Don’t be flattered just yet.” She chuckles, earning me a grin. 

“I’ve indeed brought some ice cream, and a book that I thought would become your new favourite.” She winks as she releases me from her arms.

I send her a giggle, and immediately, I clutch onto the two things, something that reminds of me who I am. 

Who I was. 

Naeun pries the belongings from my grasp. “The ice cream will melt.” She sees the desperation in my eyes, so she lets out a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

She hands me a spoon and inside the spacious, glimmering chambers, we dig into the homemade ice cream, just like what we’ve done when we sneaked out of the capitol banquets a decade ago. Without the sly glances of the servants, the stealing gazes of the guards, this has been the best day I’ve had ever since the horrendous wedding. 

I bring her around as said earlier, showing her the golden embellishments and the colourful garden outside our yard. When we come around the window, she spots the white blooming petals, carefully contained in a pink pot. 

The bundle of Tuberose given by Concubine Kwon. 

The glow in her eyes disappear, and I catch a glimpse of darkness flash past her orbs. She sends me a questioning gaze, and I answer quickly. 

“It’s Tuberose, right? They say it ca