A/N: Angst ahead. You've been warned. Sorry :/

Chanyeol maintains close proximity to his master, while his hawk-like gaze continually assesses their surrounding as they meander through the busy town square streets on a bright, late spring afternoon. 

Chanyeol was not thrilled when the King expressed his desire to spend his day of leisure visiting the town incognito in order to witness the state of the capital and its people in person. That too without the protection of the royal guards apart from Chanyeol.

“If I were to be accompanied by a flock of guards that would stymie the purpose of my disguise as a mere nobleman, do you not think, Chanyeol-ah?” The King had reasoned. “Besides, I have full confidence in your ability to protect me. Not to mention, I am quite capable of defending myself should things go awry.”

Ultimately, Chanyeol was not left with much choice but to obey his master’s order.

“Do you feel the warm breeze, Chanyeol-ah?” Baekhyun asks the guard. “It’s a sign that summer will come early this year.”

“Your talents even extend upon climate prediction. Your Majesty’s greatness knows no bounds.”

Baekhyun turns his neck to regard his personal guard with a slitted gaze. “You mock me.”

“I dare not, Chonha.” An impish smile blooms upon Chanyeol’s lips.

Baekhyun scoffs. “You fool no one with your abysmal lying skills, Park Chanyeol.”

“Apologies, Chonha.” Chanyeol dips his head in a small bow, but the ghost of a cheeky smile lingers on his lips.

They continue their stroll when suddenly a boy of adolescent age approaches them.

“My lord,” the boy addresses Baekhyun.

Chanyeol immediately surges forward to stand between the King and the boy as a shield. “Do not approach him. Keep walking.”

Despite Chanyeol’s order, the boy does not move. “My lord, kindly, spare me some coins. My little brother is gravely ill and my family does not have the means to buy the medicine.” 

“Ya, what did I tell you? Keep walking.” Chanyeol speaks threateningly this time.

“It’s quite all right, Chanyeol-ah,” Baekhyun says. The shabby appearance and the desperate pleas of the young boy garner Baekhyun's sympathy. “Tell me, boy, what happened to your brother?”

“The plague, my lord. He has been taken by the plague.”

Recently, a certain portion of the capital has been swept up by a bout of the plague. Baekhyun has been aware of it, for the matter has been discussed at length during the daily assemblies, and measures have been placed to fight against the outbreak. 

“A colony has been set up for those who are suffering from the plague. You must take your brother there. He will receive the necessary treatment there at no cost to you,” Baekhyun informs the boy. 

To ward off the spread of the disease, the government commissioned the development of an isolated colony where those who are suffering are required to be admitted.

“That is where my brother is at present, my lord,” the boy says.

Baekhyun frowns. “Then why do you need money for his treatment? As I’ve just mentioned, it should cost nothing.” He specifically remembers issuing a decree that states the cost of the treatment for those with poor means will be borne by the state.

“We were told differently, my lord. We were told the cost of the medicine was ours to bear.”

“That cannot be right,” Baekhyun mutters with a grimace. He spends a moment in deep contemplation. “You say your brother is currently in the colony?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Lead us there.”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol stand in front of the dilapidated colony where the boy has led them. It is guarded by several guards who have their faces covered with cloth to minimize the inhalation of the diseased air. 

Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun pull out handkerchiefs from their respective sleeve pockets and cover their noses and mouths with them. 

“Chonha, it isn’t safe for you to loiter here. We must leave.”

“No, I haven’t come all the way to simply turn away. I must speak with whoever is in charge of running this place.” Baekhyun proceeds to walk toward the gate of the colony.

“You mustn’t. What if you were to become ill.”

“Worry not, Chanyeol-ah. This plague is largely affecting children and the elderly. As young healthy adults, we shall fair just fine,” Baekhyun argues. “If you are hesitant to enter then you may stay behind. I won’t hold it against you.”

“As your servant, of course, I cannot allow you to proceed alone. But, pray, reconsider. I do not care for my health but rather yours which you shouldn’t risk so carelessly.”

“My mind is made. Follow if you wish,” Baekhyun says decidedly before walking to the gate. 

A guard stops him. “You may not enter. Only the sick, their families, and staff are allowed entrance.”

Chanyeol appears from behind and shows his royal guard badge. “We are here by the King’s order.”

“I see.” The guard exchanges glances with his fellow guards but has no reason to question them further. He movies aside, allowing Baekhyun and Chanyeol to enter. 

As soon as the two enter the colony, the air around them begins to feel different. It is as though they have entered an entirely different land. Unlike the bright and sunny atmosphere of the rest of the town, a dark glum hangs over the place. Baekhyun swears the site is also unusually chilly in contrast with the warm breeze he had experienced prior.

With their faces covered, he and Chanyeol advance further into the colony. They come across several fire pits over which people can be seen hunched. Those people are likely still healthy individuals trying to prevent themselves from getting ill as proximity to heat is believed to ward off the disease. As Baekhyun and Chanyeol pass one shack after another, moans and cries of agony can be heard, giving this place the image of a horrifying nightmare. 

Upon asking around, Baekhyun finally meets with the head physician who is also in charge of running the colony. He introduces himself and Chanyeol as royal inspectors. 

“I’m afraid, we do not have sufficient funds to provide medicine to all our patients, hence we have been forced to ration it and provide it only to those we believe to have a higher probability of survival. Those we believe are likely to perish are either told to prepare for their demise or bring in medicine from dispensaries outside at their own cost.”

“A shortage of funds?” Baekhyun asks. “Why has it not been reported?”

“It has. I have reported it to the Ministry of Taxation a few times, but each time I was told we must do with what is given.”

Baekhyun grimaces. When he had discussed the budget with the Taxation Minister he was led to believe the proposed amount would be enough to tackle the crisis. And even if the proposed amount proved insufficient in practice, he should have been informed of it so they may devise a different plan. 

Baekhyun grits his teeth in anger. He does not appreciate being kept in the dark. He tears off the two jade buttons from his headband and hands them to the physician. “Will these be enough to cover the cost of the medicine for the time being?”

The physician is surprised that the inspector just gave away such precious gemstone buttons without much thought. “This shall be enough to cover the cost for the next several weeks. But are you certain you wish to part with these precious buttons?”

“You need not worry about that. Just make sure all those who come here are treated properly and given the necessary medicine, regardless of their survival chances. We shall return in a few days to make sure you have put the earnings from those buttons to good use. Do not even think about filling your own pockets.”

“I shall not dare.”

“Good. Otherwise, you will face the wrath of the King himself.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

“Haaah,” Sehun sighs in satisfaction. “The warm breeze feels rather pleasant, does it not, nui?”

Mura hums in reply. 

“Janshil-ah,” Sehun addresses the lady’s maid. 

“Yes, doryeonnim.” The maid does not bother sparing him a glance.

The three presently walk down a residential road as they make their way to the town square.

“Are you enjoying this fine weather?” Sehun asks the maid.

“I suppose,” Janshil responds with indifference.

“Which season do you prefer the most?”

“Why do you ask, doryeonnim?”

“No reason in particular. Simply curious.”

Janshil lets out a discreet sigh of mild vexation. “Winter.” She lies.

“Oh, truly? So do I!” Sehun chuckles happily. “It seems we have much in common.”

Janshil furrows her brows. “What else do we possibly have in common.”

“You like sweets, do you not? Well, so do I.”

Janshil’s frown deepens. “How did you know? I do not recall ever mentioning it to you.”

“Oh, just something I have observed.”

Janshil bristles. The notion of the young master observing her habits without her knowledge is quite unnerving. “How strangely observant of you.”

Sehun smiles. “Thank you.”

It was not meant as a compliment, Janshil thinks.

The three continue on their path when a particularly strong breeze courses through. With it, a flurry of pink flower petals come sprinkling down. Mura extends a hand to catch some of the floating petals. The teardrop shape of the petals appears awfully familiar to her. She stops and her eyes curiously search for the tree these petals have drifted from. She locates it instantly— a peach tree in full bloom in someone’s yard, its branches extending over the residence wall.

Mura finds herself approaching the tree. She longingly takes in the sight of the pretty peach blossoms that decorate the tree’s branches. They radiate with a beautiful shade of pink. They also stir fond memories within Mura. 

She looks down to gaze upon the peach blossom ingrained garakji rings that adorn her right forefinger. She lightly brushes the blossom impressions on the rings with her thumb.

I requested peach blossoms specifically because they remind me of you.

Mura remembers the King telling her upon gifting her the rings.

The reminder of that night gives rise to a fluttering sensation in her chest. This sensation is not unlike what she had felt that night when the King placed those rings on her finger. However, back then she had been a fool; ignorant of what the sensation signified; ignorant of her true feelings for the then Crown Prince. 

But then the sweet fluttering sensation is quickly replaced with deep sorrow. Even if she had been aware of her feelings it would have yielded the same outcome, for the King did not share those feelings. She would have been cast away, all the same.

Mura wonders if peach blossoms still remind the King of her. If he thinks of her even for a moment when he enjoys a cup of peach blossom wine like they did together that night.  

“Nui?”

Mura turns to Sehun. “Hm?”

“Is something the matter?” Sehun inquires.

Mura smiles softly and returns her gaze to the peach tree. “Just admiring the blossoms. Beautiful, are they not?”

Sehun shrugs glancing at the tree. “I suppose.”

Mura heaves a sigh. “All right, I’ve had my fill. Let us go now.”

The two, followed by Janshil, then resume their walk to the town square.

They find themselves at the town square market, where Mura takes on bargaining with a vendor over a pair of shoes. While her mistress is occupied with price negotiation, Janshil walks over to a vendor nearby that is selling various accessories for hair. She looks through the multi-colored hair ribbons laid out on vendor’s the table before picking up one she finds to her liking. She asks the vendor its cost and upon hearing it, Janshil quickly places the ribbon back in its original place. She cannot justify paying that much for a mere ribbon.

“Is there one you like?”

Janshil jumps at the sudden appearance of Sehun behind her. “Doryeonnim, you startled me.”

“My apologies, it wasn't my intention. Now tell me, which one do you like? Allow me to buy it for you.”

Janshil regards the young master with a surprised scowl. “No need. I was merely looking.”

“Come now, no need for such politeness. Just pick whichever you desire. I shall be more than happy to get it for you.”

“That is quite generous of you, but I’d rather you do not.”

“No, truly—”

“Oh, manim is beckoning me.” The maid makes up an excuse and rushes to her mistress' side. 

Janshil releases an exasperated sigh. The young master’s failure to comprehend her disinterest in him never fails to astound her. The man is as dense as he is persistent. How much longer must she deal with his tomfoolery?

After Mura reaches a negotiation over the price of the shoes, the vendor wraps them in paper and hands them to Janshil. 

Mura turns to her cousin. “Come Sehun-ah, let us continue.”

“You two go on. I need to stop by Kwon’s bookshop for a quick moment. I shall rejoin you shortly.”

“Oh, all right. We shall be at Master Jang's silk shop. Find us there.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Baekhyun and Chanyeol return to the town square after completing their impromptu visit to the isolated colony. Baekhyun had been silent the entire way back, engrossed in his thought. The matter regarding the plague is much direr than he was originally led to believe and he is enraged that the officials did not disclose to him the true extent of the situation. Earnings from those buttons will only serve as a temporary solution. He must discuss a more long-term budgetary solution with the Treasury Minister. But even as his mind is troubled, Baekhyun's stomach growls ferociously reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. It is now deep into the afternoon and they had not intended upon staying in town for this long. 

He turns to his personal guard. “Say, Chanyeol-ah, do you know of a tavern nearby that serves decent meals?”

The two then end up in an outdoor tavern vouched by Chanyeol, where they consume rice soup with a few side dishes. 

“Chonha, is the food to your liking?” Chanyeol inquires. “I apologize if it does not meet your standards.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “No, no, it is quite all right. I have never eaten at a tavern before, hence I thought it might be a good experience. And it is, for the food is quite delicious. You have great taste, Chanyeol-ah. Not that I doubted it.”

Chanyeol smiles before resuming to eat his bowl of rice soup. 

“Chonha, may I be excused?” Chanyeol asks upon finishing the meal. “I need to use the latrine.”

“Of course. Go on.”

“I shall make it quick.”

“Take your time, Chanyeol-ah. There is no rush.”

As Baekhyun waits for Chanyeol's return, he ponders over the course of actions that may tackle the plague crisis. 

“Nui!”

Baekhyun hears someone shout in the background. He ignores it as he does the rest of the background commotion. 

“Mura nui!”

Baekhyun stills. Surely, he's misheard. 

“Mura nui!”

He hears it again. A man shouting on the street.

Baekhyun abandons his table and runs out toward the street. He moves his head around, frantically searching for the man who uttered that name.

“Nui!”

Baekhyun sweeps his gaze to the left from whence he heard the man calling that name again and finds a rather tall young male figure running in the opposite direction of the busy market street. Baekhyun suspects him to be the man calling out for this individual who happens to be named Mura and without further thought he takes up running after this unknown man out of sheer curiosity. He does not have to follow him very far before the man comes to a standstill behind two female figures in front of a silk shop. Baekhyun imitates the man and halts his own pace while maintaining a considerable yet visible distance from them. 

When Baekhyun had decided to follow the man, he, of course, had considered the possibility this Mura the man kept calling could very well be his Mura. However, he did not take into account what may follow if it indeed happened to be her. He gave his heart no warning or time to prepare itself, hence when he watches the backs of the two aforementioned women turn to acknowledge the man behind them and one of them reveals herself to be the deposed Crown Princess after all, Baekhyun’s heart seemingly ceases to function out of sheer shock. In fact, it feels as though all his bodily functions have come to a halt, as he stands there frozen, unable to move or even breathe. His mind, however, runs amok as it absorbs what, or rather who, his eyes view.

For a moment, Baekhyun thinks it isn’t real. That he is again experiencing one of those illusive visions of his estranged wife. But the more he gazes at her, the more he realizes it isn’t one of his imaginings. No, it is the real Park Mura in the flesh, standing merely a few paces away from him. Following this realization, a tsunami of emotions strikes Baekhyun, splitting him from within.

His legs tremble while his stomach and chest are weighted down by an invisible force. He manages to inhale a shaky breath, but the intake of the much-needed air does little to soothe his frayed nerves. Seeing his parted wife in actuality is utterly devastating and more brutal than seeing illusions of her. As she makes conversation with the aforementioned man whom he followed here, Baekhyun continues to watch her dumbfoundedly without attracting her attention as he blends in among the throng of pedestrians. And as she remains ignorant of his presence, she also remains ignorant of the havoc the sight of her is wreaking within him. 

Amidst the miserable longing, there is a sense of elation in seeing his lost love after all this time. She appears as captivating, as enthralling as ever. The affable and lively manner in which she is interacting with her companion also indicates a happy state of mind, which is pleasing to witness. She appears to be doing quite well and it brings Baekhyun much relief. But concomitantly, it disheartens him to know that she is going about merrily without him while he is in shambles without her. A sliver of resentment finds its way within Baekhyun; crawling in like a worm. But it proves to be fleeting, for any resentment he feels is quickly trumped by an overwhelming and desperate desire to run to his beloved and take her in his arms. Every tiny bit of him is screaming for him to hold her. His soul is begging him to end his suffering and take her away to keep her all to himself for now and ever. After all, he is the ruler, the monarch of this nation and most importantly, he is still her husband. If he commands her to come with him and stay by his side, she is obligated to obey. 

Yes, he must do it then. He is done feeling like a shell of a man, he must have her back so he may become whole again.

Baekhyun sets his foot forward, determined to approach Mura, but then he pauses. A thought crosses his mind like a blaring reminder. The truth of the matter is he will never be content with only having her by his side. He will desire more. He will desire her heart, her affection— something he cannot command her to give him. There are certain things that are even beyond the influence of a monarch. Would it not be more agonizing to be near her every day while the devastating truth of her inexistent love for him constantly looms over him? Can he live with the truth that she is with him merely out of obligation?

No, he can’t. He will have her, body, mind, and soul, or he won’t have her at all.

Baekhyun wants to laugh at his foolish philosophy— all or nothing. How foolish indeed.  He is his own worst enemy. He retracts his foot. Just a bit longer. He will watch her for only a moment longer before he returns to his existence that is as dull as it is soulless without her in it.

“Chonha!”

Baekhyun feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to look at a panting Chanyeol regarding him with concern. His personal guard must have been frantically searching for him as he had slipped out without his knowledge. 

“Chonha, why are you in tears? Did something happen?”

Baekhyun rubs his cheeks and feels the wetness. He had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even realized he was crying. He quickly wipes away the tears. “It is nothing. Let us return to the palace.”

“Are you certain all is well?”

“Yes. Let us go.” Baekhyun proceeds to walk away.

Understanding his master’s unwillingness to speak, Chanyeol does not probe any further and obediently follows him. But not before casting a quick glance at his oblivious cousins, Mura and Sehun, whom he had caught sight of when he located the King. He is certain the King had been staring in their direction while looking utterly distraught. 

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Under the starlit night sky, Baekhyun stumbles along a path of the royal palace grounds thoroughly intoxicated as he guzzles even more spirit from a porcelain bottle in his possession. Behind him, his retinue follows him with troubled expressions. One of whom is Chanyeol. 

Once he and the King returned from their jaunt in town earlier, the latter has been overindulging in spirits to the point of complete inebriation, which is unlike him. At the market earlier, Chanyeol had caught him crying while gazing at what he now strongly believes to be the deposed Crown Princess. And even after they walked away, the King was noticeably dour. Then upon returning to the palace, he began drinking heavily in his chamber before abruptly announcing that he wishes to visit the East Palace. Chanyeol believes the deposed Crown Princess is somehow responsible for the King's current sorry state.

Baekhyun enters the courtyard of the East Palace and surveys his surrounding. The space is too dark— the only source of light being the lanterns carried by the maids in Baekhyun’s retinue. This is the first time he’s set foot in this place since the departure of the former Crown Princess. The place has become a ghost of its former self with no one to inhabit it. 

The East Palace had been Baekhyun’s residence since his appointment as the Crown Prince and it had been his residence for years before his marriage. But all his cherished memories related to this place are tied to the deposed Crown Princess. When he thinks of this place, he thinks of her. And as he stands at the premises, he imagines her running around the place, making mischief, and being a complete nuisance. 

Baekhyun chortles. Indeed, what an utter nuisance his consort had been. But it had been her presence that truly livened this place and she did it all on her own. She had been the one who made this place feel like home for Baekhyun. 

Now, Baekhyun has no home. He may have a roof over his head, but it is no home. Baekhyun lets out another chortle, this time out of pity for himself, before he drowns his sorrow with more spirit.

Baekhyun isn’t sure how it happened but it seems his legs have carried him through the East Palace garden and he finds himself standing under the large peach tree that lives there. It appears its blossoms are in full bloom. He picks one of the blossoms and takes a whiff of its scent. A few drops of tears glide down Baekhyun’s face. The mildly sweet scent of the blossom brings him no comfort as he hoped. He longs for the real thing— his true peach blossom. He discards the flower before turning away from the tree.

Baekhyun’s head and vision become increasingly bleary as he makes his way out of the East Palace, however, that does not deter him from drinking more from the porcelain bottle in his hand. Perhaps, if he drinks enough it may bring about his demise and he may at last be rid of this anguish. Thus Baekhyun takes another swig. He can hear Chanyeol and his chief eunuch pleading with him to stop but he pays no mind. 

They come upon one of the many small bridges that run over the lake that stretches across the royal palace. Baekhyun comes to a standstill when he sees a dark figure standing on the bridge. Despite the lack of sufficient light and his blurred vision, Baekhyun manages to recognize the silhouette. His eyes grow wide with the realization. 

“Buin?” He then takes off running toward the figure. “Buin!” He embraces the figure and the fact that the person in his arms feels like real flesh and bones assures Baekhyun that he isn’t simply imagining her. “Buin, it is indeed you. You have returned. Thank goodness. I’m so happy. You have returned to me.”

Eunbo is at a loss. She had come out for a night stroll with her retinue and had stopped on the bridge to stargaze when the King suddenly approached her and took her in his embrace— an action that is beyond baffling considering the man has shown no interest in her previously; having not even spoken beyond exchanging greetings a few times. But then she smells it— the pungent smell of spirit emanating from him and it relieves some of her confusion. Her eyes then meet with that of the King’s chief bodyguard, who gazes her way for a moment before lowering his eyes to the ground. 

“You won’t leave me this time, will you? Promise me, you won’t leave.” Baekhyun begins to sob. 

Eunbo is justifiably puzzled by the King’s words, but he is clearly in distress and as his consort, it is her duty to comfort him. Thus she places two gentle hands on his back. “Chonha, please be calm. All shall be well.”

“You will stay then?” Baekhyun mumbles.

“Yes, Chonha.”

Baekhyun tightens his hold. “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, the King becomes too heavy on Eunbo and she stumbles backward nearly losing her balance. Chanyeol quickly comes to the rescue.

“Chonha!” He separates the nearly unconscious King from Consort Yoo and hooks the King’s arm around his own neck to stabilize him. “Let us return to your quarters.”

“No, buin. Buin. Buin.” Baekhyun drunkenly calls. 

Eunbo holds the King’s free hand. “I am here, Chonha. I shall be right beside you. Now, let us go to your quarters.”

That subdues Baekhyun and with what he perceives to be Mura’s hand in his, he allows Chanyeol to partially carry him to his residence. 

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Eunbo stays behind in the King’s courtyard while the attendants to the King, who by the time they reached his quarters had completely lost his consciousness, carry him to his chambers. She waits in the courtyard and not long after, Royal Guard Park steps out of the quarters. 

“Fret not, Jaga, the King has fallen into a peaceful sleep,” Chanyeol assures Consort Yoo. 

“I’m glad.” There is a momentary pause from Eunbo. “Park Naegeumwi, do you suppose the King had mistaken me for another?”

The chief personal guard looks to be in thought for a quick moment. “I do not know, Jaga.”

“I suspect the King had thought I was the deposed Crown Princess.” 

After giving it some thought, this is the only conclusion Eunbo could draw. The King had expressed happiness for this person's return and pleaded with her to not leave. And the affectionate manner in which he embraced— those words and actions certainly do not apply to her. They were the words and actions intended for someone the King longs for. Someone who no longer remains with him, but once did. If it isn’t the deposed Crown Princess then who else could it possibly be?

Eunbo does not receive a response to her statement from Park Chanyeol, which further affirms her suspicion. But she chooses not to press further on the matter. “Well then, I shall—” She ceases to speak abruptly when she realizes her precious tasseled pendant no longer hangs from her dangui. She gasps in alarm. 

“What is the matter, Jaga?” Chanyeol inquires. 

“My norigae!” Eunbo turns to her attendants. “I seem to have lost my norigae. We must find it, at once!”

“Jaga, it would be best to look for it in daylight. I suggest we wait until morning.” Her lady-in-waiting advises.

“No, we must look for it presently. It must have dropped during the stroll. We will retrace our steps.” Eunbo then proceeds to walk away.

“Jaga!”

Eunbo turns upon hearing Royal Guard Park calling for her.

“Allow me to assist be of assistance.”

“Oh, no need to trouble yourself.”

“Please, I insist.”

“Very well.” Eunbo aquiescences.

Chanyeol takes a lantern from one of Consort Yoo’s maids and leads everyone in pursuit of the lost pendant. 

Chanyeol suggests they first start with the bridge as he thinks it is likely that the pendant fell when the King had embraced Consort Yoo, and his intuition proved to be correct as while searching the bridge, he found tasseled pendant laying there. Chanyeol picks it up and takes it to Consort Yoo. “Is this it?”

Eunbo sighs in relief and takes the norigae from the other’s hand and brings it against her chest. “It is, indeed! Thank you, Park Naegeumwi!”

“Happy to have served Your Excellency,” Chanyeol expresses while offering a small bow. 

“You have once again recovered my precious norigae for me. This very same one. Do you remember the first time?”

“I do.” 

Of course, Chanyeol remembers. He has relived their very first encounter far too many times to forget. How can he forget the way his heart skipped a beat when the then maiden had turned to his call to look at him as he held her fallen norigae? It had been the first time that a woman’s beauty had captured his interest in that manner.

“At this rate, you will find yourself guarding my norigae more than the King's well-being.” Eunbo chuckles at her own humor. 

A small smile breaks through Chanyeol’s lips, as well. 

“You must find my reaction to possibly losing a mere trinket quite odd.”

“Of course, not, Jaga. I’m sure it is more than a mere trinket to you if you thus fear losing it.”

“You are correct. It is indeed more than a trinket.” Eunbo looks at the pendant fondly. “You see, it was weaved by my late mother.” A smile filled with sadness appears along her lips. “I was but ten years of age when she had gifted me this after crafting it with her own hands. I have made a habit of wearing it daily since her passing for it makes me feel close to her. It has become quite shabby from years of wear, but I cannot bring myself to part from it. ”

“My sincerest condolences for your loss,” Chanyeol expresses.

Eunbo gives him an appreciative smile. “It has been six years since she left us. Though I miss her immensely, the pain of her loss has long since subsided. Now, only the fondest of memories remain with me.”

“I, too, have lost my mother,” Chanyeol informs. “My birth mother, that is. She perished immediately after birthing me.”

Eunbo gazes at him with pity.

“You need not pity me, Jaga. When I was quite little, I was fortunate enough to be adopted by the Left State Councilor.”

“The deposed Crown Princess’ father? Your uncle?”

Chanyeol nods. “He is my paternal uncle. Though my father comes from the noble Park clan, my birth mother was merely his concubine of low birth. As such, I was not quite accepted by my stepmother, hence my uncle and his wife welcomed me into their lives with open arms. They never made me feel like I was adopted. My adoptive mother has always treated me as though I came from her own womb. Thus I was never deprived of the love and affection of a mother. Hence, I say you need not pity me.”

“Then the deposed Crown Princess and yourself are more like siblings than cousins.”

Chanyeol nods with a smile. “Yes, that would be correct.”

“What of your birth father? Do you retain a relationship with him?”

“We meet once or twice a year. We do not particularly share a close bond, hence making time for each other is not a priority for either of us.”

“And your birth mother? Do you ever wonder about her?”

“From time to time, yes. I wonder what kind of a mother she would have been had she lived. I do not know much about her apart from that I have her eyes. Or so I’ve been told.”

“She must have had beautiful eyes then,” Eunbo blurts out. She feels heat rise to her cheeks as she hears herself say that. 

Chanyeol is positively taken aback by Consort Yoo’s indirect compliment. It was a compliment, was it not? A cloud of warmth fills his chest. He blinks rapidly and clears his throat. “I.. uh.. I suppose, Your Excellency should retire to your quarters.”

“Ah, y-yes. It is quite late, after all. I shall bid you a good night then, Park Naeguemwi. Again, thanks for your assistance.” Eunbo then proceeds to leave in haste. 

As she walks to her quarters she gives her lips a few chastising smacks for letting something so inappropriate slip through them. 

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Mura makes one of her weekly visits to Jongdae. As usual, the two cousins spend their time eating and chatting away, and as daylight nears its end, Jongdae suggests that the other should return home. 

“Mura-ya, in the future do not come here without a palanquin. A well-bred lady should not be walking the streets of the slums,” Jongdae tells the other. 

Mura had decided to forgo the palanquin for today’s visit, opting to walk to her cousin’s house with only Janshil as her companion. 

“Very well.” Mura gives her cousin a reassuring smile. She bids him farewell and with Janshil by her side, she takes her leave. 

As she and Janshil walk along the dirt road of the slums, out of nowhere Mura feels someone tug at her right arm. Before she can register what has happened, she sees a young boy running away. She raises the hand that was seemingly pulled by the running boy and immediate dread takes over once she finds her forefinger, which once adorned the pair of marital rings, . “My garakji! Ya!” Mura shouts before chasing after the thieving boy. 

“Manim!” Janshil proceeds to run behind her.

“Thief! Thief!” Mura cries as she chases the boy. “Someone catch him!” She points at the fleeing child who is quite ahead of her. However, no one comes to her aid. 

“Manim, wait,” Janshil keeps crying after her mistress, but her mistress does not falter in her pursuit, sprinting with full force.

From afar Mura sees the boy make a turn into an alleyway, thus she mimics his move upon reaching the said alleyway. However, she finds the alleyway branches into two separate alleyways going in opposite directions with no sign of the thief. 

“Janshil-ah, take right and I shall take left.”

The lady’s maid hesitates.

“Make haste!” Mura barks.

“Very well, but do not go far, manim. Let us meet here shortly.”

The two women then go opposite ways in search of the thief.

The sun has fully vanished and exhaustion has settled into both Janshil and Mura as they tiredly wander about the area still in pursuit of the thief.

“My garakji,” Mura whimpers as her distraught eyes hopelessly survey for any sign of the boy.

“M-manim, it is late. Perhaps, we should end our search,” Janshil, who walks behind her mistress, advises.

“No, we must find my garakji.” Mura insists weakly.

“Manim, it is no longer safe for us to remain here. Your mother must be worried ill.”

Mura turns to face her maid. Droplets trickle from her eyes. “What to do, Janshil-ah? My garakji… His… they were given to me by His Majesty.” She then collapses on her knees.

“Manim!” Janshil rushes toward her mistress and lowers herself. “Manim?” Janshil’s heart squeezes at the sight of her mistress’ melancholic state. 

“My garakji,” Mura utters distractedly. 

Garakji rings symbolize the unity of body and soul between husband and wife. Even though Mura was not one with the King in body, her garakji made her feel their souls were still connected and that notion brought her much solace. Apart from her memories, those rings were the only remains of her marriage, and the fact that they were so thoughtfully gifted to her by the King himself, gave them that much more significance. Mura’s identity as a wife— his wife— was tied to that pair of peach blossom-ingrained silver rings.

Then why? Why were they taken from her so cruelly? Hasn’t she lost enough? Must she forgo all things related to her union with the King as if it never happened? Is this the heavens’ will? If so, what atrocity had Mura committed in her past life to merit such a punishment?

This proved to be the final blow that shattered Mura's resolve. All the hurt and tears that she has worked so hard for months to keep at bay have at last become much too powerful to keep blockaded. She splutters a pained cry as tears freefall without restraint. “My precious garakji. What do I do?" 

Janshil embraces her devasted mistress as tears prick at her own eyes. “Manim…”

People passing by give Mura and Janshil questioning glances, but Mura is much too distraught to care about the fact that she is on her knees on a busy street hiccuping and crying uncontrollably while Janshil tries to console her without much success. 

"Chonha... Ch-ch-chonha." Mura weeps.

She not only mourns for her lost rings but she also mourns her broken marriage now that she has finally allowed herself to do so.

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

A/N: I know I took my sweet time to update, but you guys believe me when I say I had THE worst case of writer's block. I would literally sit in front of the laptop ready to get some writing done but my brain just kept blanking on me. It was so weird. I kid you not when I say this one single chapter literally took me a month to finish as there were days I couldn't write more than a sentence. But at least I gave you guys an extra long chapter. Hope that makes up for it. Even though it's mostly angst. Oops. Don't hate me, pretty please!