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arilevenatz · 1 month ago

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Whispers of Atravelle | 𝟏

Chapter word count: 6k

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The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over YN’s small but cozy bedroom. The sound of her alarm chimed softly, and she groaned before turning it off. Another normal day.

She stretched, rubbing her eyes, before getting out of bed. A quick shower, a simple outfit—jeans and a hoodie—and she was ready to head out. School wasn’t anything special to her; it was just a part of her daily routine. She had friends, got decent grades, and didn’t attract much attention. She liked it that way.

After school, while most students rushed home or to cafés, YN had somewhere else to be—the animal training center. It was a small place, tucked between a bakery and a bookstore, but it was her favorite place in the world.

“YN! You’re here just in time,” her coworker, Mina, called out as she walked in. “We’ve got a new puppy today. Super energetic.”

YN grinned. “Perfect. I could use some excitement after sitting through math class.”

She walked over to the training area, where a fluffy golden retriever puppy wagged its tail excitedly. The moment she crouched down, the puppy jumped on her, licking her face.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” YN laughed, gently holding the puppy’s paws. “Let’s teach you some manners, little guy.”

Her job wasn’t just about training animals—it was about understanding them, helping them learn, and making sure they found good homes. Every day at the center was filled with wagging tails, happy barks, and the occasional stubborn cat who refused to listen. It was messy, tiring, but she loved every second of it.

Her life was simple. No drama, no worries. Just school, work, and spending time with the animals she adored. And she was perfectly happy with that.

Or so she thought.

The evening air was crisp as YN pedaled across the bridge, the golden hues of the setting sun reflecting off the water below. It was a familiar route, one she had taken countless times before. The wind tugged at her hoodie, and she smiled to herself, enjoying the peaceful ride home after another long but fulfilling day.

Then, it happened.

A loud honk.

Screeching tires.

Blinding headlights.

Before she could react, a car swerved onto the bridge, coming straight for her. Her breath caught in her throat as panic surged through her. She tried to turn, to move out of the way, but it was too fast—too sudden.

The impact sent her flying off her bike. She barely registered the pain before she hit the bridge railing, the force tipping her over. The world spun as she tumbled through the air, the wind rushing past her ears.

Then—cold.

The freezing water swallowed her whole. The shock knocked the air out of her lungs, and she gasped, only to have water rush into her mouth. Her limbs flailed, but the current was too strong, dragging her down, deeper and deeper.

Her vision blurred. The muffled sounds of the world above faded.

The last thing she remembered was the endless dark blue surrounding her, her body sinking into the abyss before everything went black.

YN couldn’t feel anything for a while. It was like floating in a dream—silent, weightless, endless.

Then, all at once, a sharp gasp tore from her lips as she jolted awake.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up abruptly, her heart pounding. Everything around her was unfamiliar. She was lying on a simple wooden bed, covered in a thick quilt that looked handmade. The room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp on a wooden nightstand. The walls were stone, with wooden beams stretching across the ceiling.

She frowned. Where was she?

Her hands gripped the blanket as she looked down at herself. That’s when the confusion deepened.

Her clothes were… different. A long-sleeved, cream-colored blouse with delicate lace at the cuffs. A dark brown corset-like vest was fitted snugly over it, paired with a long flowing skirt. The material felt soft yet sturdy, nothing like the modern fabrics she was used to.

Her breathing quickened. This didn’t make sense. She had been cycling home, right? Then—then a car—she had fallen—

Her fingers flew to her head, pressing against her temple as she tried to recall what had happened. The last thing she remembered was the cold water swallowing her, dragging her down into the darkness.

So how was she here?

Her gaze darted around the room again. The wooden dresser, the small round mirror with an ornate frame, the neatly stacked books on a simple shelf. It all looked… old. Not just old—vintage.

Her stomach twisted.

This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her room. And, judging by everything around her, this wasn’t even her time.

The door creaked open, and a woman in her late 40s hurried inside. Her eyes were filled with worry as she approached.

"Oh, dear, you're awake!" the woman exclaimed, placing a gentle hand on YN's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

YN blinked in confusion. Everything felt so strange, but she could tell this woman was genuinely concerned. Hesitantly, she nodded. "I… I think so."

The woman let out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness. You had me so worried." She sat at the edge of the bed, smoothing YN’s blanket. "You should rest a little longer."

YN swallowed, still feeling disoriented. She had so many questions, but one pressed on her mind the most. "What… what happened to me?"

The woman gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "You fainted while playing in the garden. You gave us quite the scare, collapsing like that."

Playing in the garden? YN’s mind reeled. That didn’t make sense. She wasn’t playing—she was cycling home. She was on a bridge. She was—

She fell.

Her breath hitched slightly. None of this added up. Her clothes, this house, this woman—none of it was familiar. But for some reason, this woman spoke to her so naturally, as if she had always been here.

YN’s fingers clutched the blanket as she hesitated. Should she tell this woman she didn’t belong here? That she remembered something entirely different?

Or… was it possible that she was the one who was mistaken?

YN couldn’t just stay in bed. Something felt off—everything felt off. Ignoring the woman’s suggestion to rest, she carefully slipped out from under the blanket and stood up. Her legs felt weak for a moment, but she steadied herself and walked toward the door.

The hallway was just as unfamiliar as the room. Wooden floors creaked softly beneath her steps, and the walls were lined with paper doors, much like the ones she had seen in historical dramas. Her stomach twisted with unease.

She pushed open a door leading outside—and froze.

The world before her was nothing like the one she knew.

An old, grand house stretched before her, its curved tiled roofs and wooden pillars standing tall against the sky. The architecture was unmistakably Korean—traditional, elegant, and completely out of place compared to the modern city she had left behind. A wide courtyard spread out in front of her, surrounded by a low stone wall. Beyond that, trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling softly. Flowers of all kinds bloomed along the pathways, filling the air with a fresh, natural scent.

No cars. No tall buildings. No power lines.

Her breath caught in her throat.

This wasn’t just some old house tucked away in the city. This was a completely different time.

Something was very, very wrong.

"What are you doing?"

A sharp voice cut through the quiet courtyard, making YN nearly jump out of her skin. Her heart pounded as she whipped around to see a woman in her late 20s standing a few steps away, dressed in a simple but elegant hanbok. The woman’s brows were furrowed in concern.

"Who are you?" YN blurted out, still trying to make sense of everything.

The woman looked taken aback. "What are you talking about, my lady? I am your helper."

Helper? My lady?

YN’s head spun. None of this was making sense. She had never seen this woman before in her life.

"What?" she whispered, her voice barely steady.

The woman’s frown deepened as she stepped closer. "My lady, are you feeling unwell? Let’s go inside. You shouldn’t be wandering around after fainting."

YN took a step back, her mind racing. This had to be a dream. There was no other explanation. But if it was… why did it feel so real?

YN couldn’t take it anymore. The air was thick with tension, and the woman’s words only seemed to deepen the mystery of her situation. She stood up abruptly, her frustration boiling over.

"Maybe just call a doctor!" she shouted, her voice raw with emotion. "I don’t need to be treated like I’m possessed. I need answers!"

The two women froze, exchanging another glance before the older woman nodded. "A doctor… Yes, we’ll call a doctor."

Within moments, the house seemed to settle into an uneasy quiet, and before long, a man in his mid-40s arrived, dressed in a simple yet dignified outfit, carrying a leather bag. His expression was calm and composed, but there was a certain seriousness about him.

"Ah, my lady," the older woman greeted him, stepping forward. "We have a situation. She—she says she cannot remember anything. We’re concerned about her health."

The doctor nodded, his gaze turning toward YN, who had barely moved from her spot by the bed. He approached slowly, his eyes scanning her with a practiced, almost clinical gaze.

"May I have a look at you, miss?" he asked gently, his voice surprisingly soothing.

YN hesitated for a moment before nodding. He knelt beside her, his hands light and careful as he examined her head.

After a few moments, he straightened and sighed. "It seems like a mild head injury. A fall, perhaps?"

YN’s breath caught. "I… yes. I remember falling, but everything else is… blank."

The doctor nodded. "It’s not unusual. Head injuries can sometimes cause short-term memory loss, especially after a fall like that. It’s nothing too serious. With rest and care, your memory should return in time."

Relief flooded through YN, but only slightly. She had wanted answers, and now she had one—but it only brought more questions.

"But… I don’t understand," she said, her voice trembling. "How did I end up here? Why am I in this house?"

The doctor exchanged another glance with the older woman, but he didn’t seem as concerned with her confusion. "For now, rest is what you need most. Your mind will clear up in due time. Just let your body heal, and everything else will follow."

It wasn’t the answer YN had hoped for. It was a vague reassurance, one that didn’t explain anything about how she ended up in a house that felt so out of place. But for now, it was the only explanation she had.

The doctor gave one last reassuring nod before turning to leave. "Get some rest, miss. You’ll be alright."

YN stood in the quiet room, the weight of everything pressing down on her. A head injury, memory loss, and a strange, unfamiliar world.

She had no idea how she had gotten here or what was happening—but she was determined to find out.

The hours dragged on, and despite the doctor's reassurance, YN couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped in some strange dream. Her mind was still reeling from the bizarre turn of events when the woman who had introduced herself as Jihan returned.

This time, Jihan came bearing more answers—answers that only deepened YN's confusion.

Sitting down across from YN, Jihan spoke softly, but with a sense of certainty that left YN unsettled. "I know this all sounds crazy, but I need you to listen. You were found unconscious in the garden not long ago, and when we couldn’t wake you, your mother, who you know as the one who helped you earlier, was worried sick."

YN frowned, still trying to make sense of everything. Jihan noticed her confusion and continued, "You are the only daughter of a well-respected priest in our town. Your father has spent his life helping people, healing the sick, guiding the troubled souls. He’s respected not only here but in the entire kingdom."

YN’s mouth went dry. "Wait… what? A priest? Kingdom?"

Jihan’s eyes softened with sympathy. "Yes. You’ve lived here all your life, in a small town on the outskirts of the kingdom. Your father has been the town’s spiritual guide for as long as anyone can remember. People come from miles away to seek his wisdom."

YN’s head was spinning. This wasn’t just some dream—it was too real, too detailed. She had never heard of such a kingdom, never known a priest so revered.

"And the woman you met earlier—your mother," Jihan added quietly. "She’s very protective of you. After all, you are the only daughter of the priest, and the town looks to you, too, for guidance.”

YN felt her heart race. "But… I don’t remember any of this. None of it!"

"I understand," Jihan said, her voice gentle but firm. "But I promise you, my lady, it’s true. You may not remember now, but you have always lived here, in this house, with your mother and father. We’ve all known you your whole life."

YN squeezed her eyes shut, trying to process the overwhelming information. This couldn’t be real. Could it?

She had to admit, though, that everything Jihan was saying seemed too specific to be a lie. Her mind still struggled to grasp it, but she had to at least let Jihan speak—she was the only one offering any kind of explanation.

"This is all crazy," YN murmured, rubbing her temples. "Either I’m going crazy, or I’ve somehow ended up in a completely different life. I don’t even know if this is real…"

Jihan smiled sadly, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and concern. "I know it’s a lot to take in. But you’ll remember. Everything will come back to you, I’m sure of it."

YN sat in silence for a long moment, trying to make sense of the world that suddenly seemed so foreign. She wanted to believe Jihan. She wanted to believe this was just some strange accident, a temporary lapse in memory that would soon be fixed. But everything in her gut told her something was wrong.

The more Jihan spoke, the more YN wondered if she was truly the person Jihan was describing—or if she had been brought into a world where nothing made sense.

As Jihan left, YN was left alone in the quiet room, the weight of everything slowly settling around her. But amidst the confusion and chaos, something unexpected stirred within her—a flicker of excitement.

A second chance.

Maybe, just maybe, she had been given a new shot at life. Whatever had happened to her, whatever strange twist of fate had brought her here, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that this was an opportunity—a fresh start, even if it came wrapped in confusion and mystery.

She leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. "This is crazy," she whispered to herself. "This is insane. But… hey, I could be in a completely different universe, right?"

A grin spread across her face as the idea took hold. Was it possible she had somehow slipped into an alternate reality? A world so different from the one she knew? The thought made her heart race with giddy anticipation.

"Maybe I got transferred to an alternate universe," she muttered with a light laugh. "I mean, I don’t remember any of this. And I’m in a totally different world, right? Why not?"

She stood up, a sudden sense of freedom sweeping over her. Who cared if she didn’t have all the answers? Who cared if she didn’t remember her past life in this strange world?

"This is my new life now," she said, her voice full of newfound enthusiasm. "I didn’t just get one life, I got two!"

YN let out a loud laugh, her excitement bubbling over. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but it felt like this was her chance to live again. And maybe—just maybe—she would make it count.

"YOLO," she said, the words coming out as a playful whisper. "Well, in this case, I didn’t live once. I got to live twice!"

Her heart pounded with happiness, the joy of a new beginning washing over her. The confusion still lingered in the back of her mind, but for the first time since waking up, YN felt something positive—something she could hold on to.

She wasn’t going to waste this chance. She didn’t know what this world held, or how she had ended up here, but she wasn’t going to sit idly by. She was going to live fully, embrace it, and maybe—just maybe—uncover the mysteries along the way.

This was her new life, and she wasn’t about to let it slip away.

After spending a few more days adjusting to her new reality, YN couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. She stepped outside the house, eager to explore the world she had been thrown into.

And what a world it was.

Unlike the towering buildings and endless traffic of the city she had once known, this place was peaceful, almost dreamlike in its beauty. The town was built along gentle hills, with winding stone paths that led through clusters of wooden houses with curved tiled roofs. The buildings were simple yet elegant, their wooden beams dark with age, their paper windows glowing warmly in the sunlight.

A cool breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers, mixing with the faint aroma of burning wood from the kitchens scattered throughout the town. People moved leisurely, dressed in flowing hanboks of soft pastels and deep, rich tones. Street vendors lined the paths, selling fresh fruits, handmade trinkets, and warm steamed buns. Children ran barefoot through the streets, their laughter ringing through the air as they chased one another between the trees.

And the trees—oh, the trees.

Lush willows draped over small ponds where koi fish swam lazily beneath the surface. Cherry blossom trees lined the pathways, their delicate pink petals occasionally drifting down like soft snow. In the distance, the mountains stretched high into the sky, their mist-covered peaks blending with the clouds. Fields of golden rice paddies shimmered under the afternoon sun, and beyond them, dense forests whispered with the sound of rustling leaves.

It was nothing like the modern world she had left behind. It was better.

The biggest surprise of all? She didn’t have to study.

There were no schoolbooks, no exams, no endless pressure to keep up with deadlines. Instead, she had entire days to do whatever she wanted. She would spend hours in the town’s parks and gardens, lying under the shade of a tree as she flipped through books filled with old stories and poetry. Sometimes, she would watch artisans at work—painters capturing the beauty of the landscape, potters shaping delicate vases, or tailors stitching intricate embroidery onto silk robes.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t rushing. She wasn’t drowning in noise or deadlines.

She was just… living.

And she loved it.

Each morning, YN found herself waking up in a world that still felt surreal. The wooden beams of the house, the gentle creak of the floors beneath her feet, the faint scent of herbal tea that drifted from the kitchen—everything about this place was unfamiliar, yet she was beginning to settle into it.

She slipped into one of the pastel-colored dresses that had been carefully laid out for her, the fabric soft and delicate against her skin. The colors were always gentle—pale pinks, soft blues, muted lavenders—chosen, of course, by the woman who claimed to be her mother.

Her "mother."

That still felt weird to say.

YN had yet to fully accept this woman as her mother. Sure, she was caring in her own way, but she was also strict, always reminding YN to behave properly, to stay inside, to act as a lady should. It was suffocating.

And one thing was clear—YN wasn’t made for a stay-at-home life.

After days of playing along, she had enough. One morning, as her "mother" poured tea at the low wooden table, YN sat down across from her and got straight to the point.

"I want to go out."

The woman barely looked up, stirring her tea with quiet grace. "Out where?"

"Just out. I want to see the town, walk around, do something other than sit inside this house all day."

A sigh. "That’s not proper for a young lady."

YN groaned. "Proper? What does that even mean? I’m not going to sit here and do embroidery or whatever you expect me to do. I want to explore."

Her mother gave her a sharp look. "You know your place, YN. You are the daughter of a respected priest. Wandering the streets like some commoner is out of the question."

Oh, so that’s how it was going to be?

YN narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. "Well, I’m going to cry until I throw up if you don’t let me."

Her mother set her teacup down with a soft clink, giving her a disbelieving stare. "Excuse me?"

YN didn’t blink. "I’ll do it. Right here, right now." She dramatically placed a hand over her chest. "I’ll sob like my heart is breaking. Loudly. And then I’ll get lightheaded and sick. Do you really want that?"

Her mother pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly struggling between frustration and resignation. "YN—"

"I mean it," YN cut in, straight-faced. "I will cry like my life depends on it."

A long silence stretched between them. YN held her breath, watching her mother’s expression shift between irritation, disbelief, and something close to defeat.

Finally, her mother exhaled sharply. "Fine."

YN blinked. "Wait, really?"

"But," her mother added firmly, "Jihan will go with you. I will not have you wandering alone."

It wasn’t total freedom, but it was a win.

YN barely contained her excitement as she shot up from her seat. "Deal!"

As she rushed to get ready, she grinned to herself. If throwing a fake tantrum was all it took, she was definitely going to use that trick again.

YN got ready in record time, slipping on her shoes before bolting for the door.

"YN!" her mother’s sharp voice stopped her in her tracks.

She turned around with a sheepish grin. "Yes, Mother?"

"Your hair."

Ah, right. That.

She loves to keep her hair open. And her long, wavy, luscious, black hair was too magnificent to tie up. Maybe that was too many adjectives but she doesn't care.

"At least braid it," her mother instructed, already turning back to her tea.

YN had zero intention of doing that. The moment she was out of sight, she dashed past Jihan, who was already holding out a hair tie.

"My lady, your hair—"

"No time!" YN called over her shoulder.

Jihan groaned, immediately running after her. "At least let me tie it back! You’ll look like a mess!"

YN dramatically gasped. "Are you saying I look ugly?"

Jihan nearly tripped over her own feet. "Wha—? No, I just meant—"

"Wow," YN huffed, placing a hand over her chest. "That’s really hurtful, Jihan. I thought we were friends."

Jihan gaped at her, clutching the hair tie in frustration. "That’s not what I—My lady, please!"

"You wouldn’t make a friend suffer, would you?" YN sighed heavily, shaking her loose hair dramatically. "It’s just so uncomfortable to have my hair tied all the time, you know? But I get it, I guess my feelings don’t matter—"

Jihan groaned loudly, finally giving up. "Fine! Fine! But if your mother asks, I tried!"

YN grinned in victory. "That’s all I needed to hear."

With Jihan defeated, they finally made it outside, the sun warm against their skin as they stepped into the bustling town.

"Alright," Jihan said, straightening herself. "First, we should stop by the temple and—"

"The market!" YN interrupted excitedly, already heading in the opposite direction.

Jihan stared at her in horror. "The temple."

"Yeah, yeah, we’ll go there eventually," YN waved her off. "First, the market."

"My lady, no—"

"Shut up, Jihan."

Jihan sighed in utter defeat as YN marched ahead, practically glowing with excitement.

This was going to be a long day.

YN happily wandered from shop to shop, her eyes shining with curiosity. Every little thing fascinated her—the colorful silk fabrics swaying in the breeze, the intricate jade jewelry glinting under the sun, the fresh fruits stacked in neat piles. The market was alive with chatter, vendors calling out their prices, children weaving through the crowd, and the smell of grilled skewers filling the air.

Jihan, on the other hand, looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"My lady, please," Jihan begged, nearly tripping over her own feet as she followed behind. "We were supposed to go to the temple first!"

YN barely spared her a glance. "Yeah, yeah, we’ll get there eventually."

"Eventually," Jihan repeated weakly. "Your mother is going to kill me."

"Oh, stop being dramatic," YN said with a grin, before stopping in front of a small bakery. The warm scent of freshly baked bread made her stomach growl. Without hesitation, she reached into the pouch of coins her mother had given her and bought a small pastry.

Jihan gasped as if YN had just committed a crime. "My lady, no!"

YN took a bite, savoring the soft, buttery flavor. "What now?" she asked, mouth full.

"You’re not supposed to have non-veg today!" Jihan whisper-yelled, looking around as if someone would arrest them.

YN paused mid-bite. “Egg?"

Jihan nodded frantically.

YN looked at the half-eaten pastry in her hand, then shrugged and took another bite. "Oh well."

Jihan groaned, looking like she was about to faint. "You are impossible."

Before YN could respond, a loud commotion erupted nearby. People gasped, a few children shrieked, and the market’s lively hum shifted into nervous whispers.

She turned her head toward the source of the noise, standing on her toes to see over the crowd. "What’s going on?"

Jihan grabbed her wrist. "It’s nothing we need to worry about! Let’s just go back now, my lady!"

YN gave her a blank stare. "Yeah, you go. I’ll check it out."

"My lady!" Jihan wailed, but YN was already pushing her way through the crowd.

What she saw made her freeze.

A large, aggressive dog had its teeth sunk into a young boy’s arm, its growls deep and threatening. The child, no older than ten, whimpered in pain, his face pale and tear-streaked. People stood at a distance, murmuring in fear but making no move to help.

The boy’s friends stood around him, frozen in fear. They wanted to help, but none of them dared to step forward. The adults weren’t much better—whispering among themselves, but too afraid to intervene.

But YN?

She knew animals.

A dog never acted like this unless it was scared. Something must have happened to put it in this state—whether it was pain, fear, or hunger, she wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain: forcing it away by brute strength would only make things worse.

So, without hesitation, she stepped forward.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as she moved closer. Some even tried to stop her.

"What is she doing?!"

"She’ll get hurt!"

"Foolish girl!"

But YN ignored them all.

Slowly, she crouched down and began to hum—a soft, steady tune, barely louder than the murmurs around her. The melody wasn’t anything special, just a calming rhythm, something familiar, something gentle.

The dog growled louder at first, its body tense and eyes wild, but YN didn’t waver. She kept humming, her voice steady, her movements slow.

Then, carefully, she reached forward and grasped the loose skin near its neck, applying gentle but firm pressure.

The dog thrashed at first, its grip on the boy’s arm tightening for a moment. YN could feel the tremors in its body, the frantic way it panted. But she didn’t let go.

"It’s okay," she murmured softly, her voice soothing. "You’re gonna be okay."

The growling turned into whines.

She continued to stroke its fur, her touch deliberate, comforting. The tension in its muscles slowly eased. Its grip on the boy’s arm loosened, then released entirely. The child scrambled back, clutching his bleeding arm, but YN didn’t take her focus off the dog.

"Good boy," she whispered, still keeping her grip light but reassuring. "It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you."

The dog let out a deep breath, almost like a sigh, before lowering itself onto the ground. Its ears were still flattened, but the wild fear in its eyes had dimmed.

The crowd, which had been holding its breath, finally exhaled.

Jihan, who had been on the verge of fainting, let out a strangled noise somewhere between relief and disbelief.

Meanwhile, YN smiled, gently scratching the dog behind the ears.

YN finally turned her attention to the group of boys. Her sharp gaze swept over them, making them squirm where they stood. She had just calmed a violent dog with nothing but her voice and touch—she wasn’t someone to mess with.

"Did you mess with him?" she asked, her voice firm but not unkind.

The boys immediately looked at each other, shifting nervously.

"N-No!" one of them stammered.

But YN simply raised an eyebrow.

The boy gulped. His friends weren’t much better—avoiding her eyes, fidgeting with their sleeves, glancing at the dog that was now calmly standing beside her. The weight of her stare made them break in mere seconds.

"We—we were just playing!" one of them blurted out. "We didn’t mean to—!"

"What did you do?" YN pressed.

The boys hesitated, but the guilt was clear on their faces.

"We… we threw some stones," another one mumbled, barely above a whisper.

YN inhaled slowly, trying to rein in her frustration. "Some stones?"

The boy lowered his head. "A lot of stones," he admitted.

There it was.

YN let out a sigh, crossing her arms. "And you wonder why he bit one of you?"

The injured boy clutched his arm, guilt creeping into his expression. "I—I didn’t think he’d actually attack me…"

"Of course he did," YN said bluntly. "He was scared. You hurt him, so he acted on instinct. He didn’t know what else to do."

The boys shuffled awkwardly, their earlier bravado completely gone.

"He’s not a bad dog," she continued, glancing down at the animal beside her. His tail was still stiff, but he leaned against her leg slightly, as if seeking reassurance. "He was just protecting himself. If you had been in his place, wouldn’t you have done the same?"

None of the boys could answer.

The crowd was still watching, some murmuring amongst themselves, but YN didn’t care. She crouched down again, gently petting the dog’s head.

“He’s not the villain here," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You are."

That made the boys flinch.

Jihan, still looking pale from everything that had happened, finally stepped forward. "My lady, we should go—"

"In a minute," YN replied, then looked back at the boys. "You’re lucky I stopped him before he did worse. Next time, don’t mess with animals unless you’re ready to face the consequences."

The boys nodded quickly, still shaken.

After everything that had happened, YN simply skipped toward the temple like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jihan, on the other hand, looked absolutely exhausted. "I swear, my lady, you’ll be the death of me," she muttered, trailing behind.

YN just grinned. "But I saved a dog! Doesn’t that make me a good person?"

Jihan sighed, but there was a small smile on her lips. "Yes, yes, you did well."

YN felt a sense of pride bubbling inside her. She had managed to use the knowledge from her past life, and it actually helped someone—even if that someone was a scared, defensive dog. It felt good.

The temple was grand, its towering pillars and intricate carvings giving it a serene, sacred feel. Yet, as beautiful as it was, it was surprisingly empty. Only a few monks moved about, tending to incense burners and sweeping the marble floors.

YN followed Jihan inside, going through the expected rituals—bowing, lighting incense, whispering a small prayer even though she didn’t actually believe in any of this. But if doing this made Jihan happy, then she’d do it.

(Hypocritical, really, but whatever.)

Just as they were about to leave, a sudden shift in the atmosphere made YN pause.

A group of guards stepped into their path, their uniforms crisp and weapons visible at their sides.

Jihan stiffened beside her.

YN instinctively took a step forward, placing herself between Jihan and the guards. She glanced at Jihan, silently asking for an explanation.

Jihan hesitated before whispering, "They are the emperor’s guards."

That didn’t make YN feel any better. If anything, it made her more suspicious. What did the emperor’s guards want with her? She was just the daughter of a priest in some small town.

Still, she kept her expression neutral. She had nothing to protect herself with—no weapon, no escape plan—but that didn’t mean she had to show fear.

She straightened her posture, clasping her hands in front of her to seem composed. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked politely.

The guard who had spoken before studied her for a moment before replying, "We witnessed what you did at the market."

YN tensed.

"You calmed a violent dog with nothing but your voice and touch," the guard continued. "We would like to know—do you have this effect on other animals as well?"

Ah. So that was it.

YN let out a slow breath, her mind racing. The emperor’s guards personally approaching her just because of that? Something felt off.

But she nodded casually. "I suppose so. I’ve always been good with animals."

The guards exchanged glances.

"Then," the lead guard said, "we request that you come with us. There is an animal within the imperial palace that requires taming."

YN’s eyes narrowed slightly. They requested, but the way they stood—their firm expressions, their unreadable gazes—it felt more like an order than a request.

Jihan subtly tugged on her sleeve, clearly panicking. "My lady, perhaps we should—"

YN gently patted Jihan’s hand in reassurance before turning back to the guards.

"Why me?" she asked, tilting her head. "Surely, the imperial family has skilled animal trainers. Why would you need me?"

The guard hesitated for a brief moment before answering, "We just think you'd do a good job.” The gaurd said, smirking slightly.

YN felt a shiver run down her spine..

YN really didn’t want to go.

Her life here was simple and peaceful—well, as peaceful as it could be, considering she had somehow woken up in a different world. But still, she liked it. And she definitely didn’t want to be dragged into whatever business the emperor’s guards had.

So she tried to refuse, keeping her voice polite but firm. "I can’t just leave today. I have a life here."

The guards, however, were unmoved.

"You will have time to gather your belongings," the lead guard said. "We will accompany you."

YN’s stomach twisted. That was just a fancy way of saying you don’t have a choice.

She glanced at Jihan, who looked seconds away from bursting into tears.

YN clenched her jaw. She was scared—of course, she was scared—but she knew that outright refusing would only make things worse. These were imperial guards. If they had orders, they would carry them out, one way or another.

So she inhaled deeply, steadied her nerves, and forced a small smile. "Alright," she said. "Let’s go."

The guards nodded, seeming satisfied with her compliance.

Soon, they were mounted on royal horses, riding back toward her home.

YN had to admit—despite the circumstances, the guards were surprisingly considerate. They made sure she and Jihan were comfortable, even helping them onto their horses. They didn’t push them too hard, nor did they act overly forceful.

Such nice guards… YN thought dryly. Makes me wonder what kind of training the emperor puts them through.

But that kindness didn’t change the reality of her situation.

She was being taken to the imperial palace.

For what, she still didn’t know.

And that alone was enough to keep her on edge.

138 notes · View notes

arilevenatz · 8 days ago

Text

Whispers of Atravelle | 𝟑

Chapter word count: 6.2k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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YN, still panicking internally, quickly put on her best "humble and innocent" act.

"Well, Your Highness, I never had the honor of meeting the royal family before, so I am quite unaware of the proper decorum," she said, trying to sound all old-timey. But then, because she was still YN, she added, "I mean, my bad—guess I missed the ‘how to act around princes’ lesson growing up."

The prince tilted his head, amusement flickering in his sharp eyes. "Is that so?" he mused. "That is rather peculiar. From what I have heard, your father is a highly respected man. Some even say your family is treated akin to royalty in your town."

YN tried not to choke. Was this man calling her out? She needed to play it smart. "Ah… well, respected, yes. But royalty? Nah—I mean, not quite, Your Highness." She coughed, correcting herself. "I am but a simple daughter of a priest, no more, no less."

The prince studied her for a long moment, that same tiny smirk still playing on his lips. "Is that so?"

YN did not like the way he said that. Not one bit.

YN tensed as the prince rose to his feet. He took another slow glance around the lavish room before stepping closer to her.

Too close.

She instinctively took a step back, her mind running wild. Was he about to scold her? Punish her? Did she mess up by not groveling properly? Her brain was about to short-circuit when he suddenly lifted his hand—

She flinched.

But instead of the slap she braced for, she felt nothing but air. Slowly, she cracked one eye open.

The prince—no, Hongjoong—stood before her, one brow raised, his hand casually extended toward her. "I was merely introducing myself," he said, voice laced with amusement. "Hongjoong."

YN blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh."

He tilted his head, smirk widening. "Did you think I was going to strike you?"

She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. "No," she lied.

He chuckled. "You flinched."

"Nah, that was just—uh, a reflex. Yeah."

Hongjoong hummed, unconvinced. "A rather interesting reflex." He still hadn't dropped his hand.

Feeling like a socially inept fool, YN quickly grasped it, shaking it once before letting go. His grip was firm but not forceful, the kind of handshake that screamed confidence but also a little mischief.

"So, YN," he said, crossing his arms. "Tell me—how does a priest’s daughter end up calming a beast that not even our best tamers could handle?"

YN groaned internally. She knew this was coming.

YN felt her throat go dry. "I—I don't know," she stammered, gripping the fabric of her dress.

Hongjoong didn’t look convinced. He took a step closer, his sharp eyes locking onto hers, unreadable yet intense. "You must know," he pressed, tilting his head slightly. "No one else has ever done what you did. You are the only one. How can you not know?"

She swallowed hard. The weight of his words, his presence—it was too much.

"I swear, I don't," she whispered, forcing herself to hold eye contact despite the anxiety creeping up her spine.

Hongjoong didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he studied her, his sharp gaze scanning her face as if searching for a lie. YN felt like a mouse cornered by a particularly intelligent cat. He was important—too important. He could do anything to her if he wanted. And she? She was just a girl who happened to touch a monster and not die.

"I see," he finally said, voice softer, but his gaze still calculating.

YN exhaled, shoulders tense. Was that it? Was he done interrogating her?

Then he smirked. "You're a terrible liar, by the way."

YN wanted to throw herself out the window.

YN felt herself getting frustrated. "I’m not lying," she insisted, her voice a mix of desperation and exasperation. "I don’t know what I did, I don’t know why it happened, and I don’t know what you expect me to say!"

Hongjoong’s smirk only deepened, like he found her struggle amusing. "Mhm," he hummed, clearly not believing a single word she said.

YN groaned. "Dude, I—" She caught herself. Right. Priest’s daughter. Not supposed to talk like that. She quickly corrected, "I mean… my lord, I truly do not know."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. "That was a bit of a strange slip," he mused.

She clenched her fists, barely holding back the urge to tell him to mind his own business. This man—this prince—was not just intimidating. He was annoying.

After a moment, he chuckled. "You’re interesting," he admitted, turning toward the door. "I can see why they’re so curious about you."

YN didn’t like how that sounded. "Who’s they?" she asked cautiously.

He didn’t answer. Instead, as he reached the door, he glanced back at her. "We’ll meet again, priestess."

YN scowled. "I’m not a priestess."

Hongjoong shrugged. “I believe you" he said, almost mockingly, before stepping out of the room.

The door shut behind him, leaving YN alone in her luxurious prison. She let out a long, frustrated sigh before dramatically flopping onto the absurdly soft bed.

"Bro, what the fuck is happening," she muttered into the sheets.

YN wanted to eat in her room, away from prying eyes and annoying questions. The palace was overwhelming enough—she didn’t need to add awkward dinner conversations to the mix. But today, something was different.

A knock on her door startled her. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and standing there—smug as ever—was none other than Prince Hongjoong himself.

Her stomach dropped. "Uhh… what?"

Hongjoong leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You’ve been summoned.”

She blinked. "Summoned?"

He nodded. "Dinner.”

“.... I'd prefer eating alone" she said, waving him off.

"Not today," Hongjoong said, stepping inside. "You’re eating with us."

YN immediately narrowed her eyes. "Us?"

"The royal family," he clarified, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She nearly choked on air. "What?"

"You heard me."

She stared at him, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking. But he just stood there, looking at her like this is happening whether you like it or not.

She shook her head. "Nope. No thanks. I’ll pass."

"You don’t have a choice."

YN groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Bro, I just wanted to eat in peace."

Hongjoong chuckled. "And I just wanted a quiet night, but here we are."

She glared at him. "Oh, wow, must be so hard being a prince."

"It is, actually," he shot back, giving her a knowing look. "Which is why I’d prefer not to waste more time arguing. Come on."

YN sighed, feeling utterly betrayed by the universe. "This is some bullshit," she muttered as she reluctantly followed him out of the room.

She had been mentally preparing herself to sit through an awkward dinner, probably filled with polite nods and silent chewing. What she hadn’t prepared for was walking into a room full of literal gods.

The dining hall was grand, but YN barely processed the details because her brain short-circuited at the sight before her. Seated at the long table were seven other men—each one of them looking like they had been sculpted by the gods themselves.

She froze in the doorway.

Holy shit.

Her eyes widened as she took them all in. Each one had a distinct presence—some exuded power, others had a more relaxed air, but all of them were fine as hell. Was this a dinner or a model lineup?

She side-eyed Hongjoong. Wait… he fits in too.

Her whole life, she had assumed people in ancient times were supposed to be a little crusty—bad skincare, questionable hygiene. But no, apparently, everyone in this era had just decided to be ethereal beings.

Is it in the water? The food? The genetics?

Hongjoong, clearly amused by her reaction, leaned in. "You gonna stand there gawking all night, Priestess?"

That snapped her out of it.

She cleared her throat, quickly composing herself. "Nah, I’m good."

But as she stepped inside, she couldn’t stop thinking:

What kind of unfair world did I wake up in where every guy looks like he walked out of a fantasy novel?

Hongjoong walked ahead like he owned the place—well, he kinda did—and took his seat at the head of the table, his movements casual yet commanding. Meanwhile, YN stood there awkwardly, suddenly feeling like she had walked into the wrong classroom on the first day of school.

She shifted uncomfortably, hyper-aware of the weight of eight pairs of eyes on her. The men at the table didn’t look unwelcoming, but they also didn’t look particularly welcoming either. It was as if they were assessing her, trying to figure her out.

Hongjoong, clearly entertained, raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you going to sit, or are you planning to stand there all night?"

She swallowed hard, her voice a little unsteady. "Uh… where should I sit?"

He tilted his head slightly before nodding toward an empty chair.

YN exhaled and moved to the seat, trying to keep her steps as normal as possible. She had never felt this out of place in her entire life. Sitting down, she kept her posture straight, hands neatly folded in her lap as if that would somehow make her blend in better.

Spoiler: it didn’t.

She was the sorest thumb in history.

The air was thick with something unspoken, tension? Curiosity? Suspicion? All of the above? The guys weren’t staring outright, but she felt their eyes on her.

Was it because of what happened in the arena? Was it because she wasn’t dressed like them? Or was it just because she was an outsider?

Either way, YN had never felt smaller at a dinner table.

She glanced at Hongjoong, who, to her annoyance, looked perfectly at ease. Meanwhile, she was out here trying to remember how to breathe normally.

She cleared her throat. Okay. Just act natural.

…Whatever natural even meant in this situation.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of plates being set, the quiet clinking of silverware, and the occasional low murmur of conversation between the men. YN kept her eyes on the table, trying not to make it painfully obvious that she was staring at literal gods incarnate.

But then, one of them spoke.

"You’re awfully quiet for someone who managed to calm that thing earlier."

Her eyes flicked up to see the guy across from her, leaning forward slightly with his elbows on the table. He had sharp eyes and an even sharper smirk, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead.

"Who—me?" she asked dumbly, pointing at herself.

He chuckled. "Yeah, you. Who else?"

Hongjoong, who had been sipping his drink, set it down with a sigh. "San, must you always be so blunt?"

San. Alright, noted.

Another one, seated beside San, let out a laugh. "He’s not wrong, though. You were—what’s the word—fascinating to watch."

He had lighter hair, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a way of speaking that made it sound like he was constantly amused by everything around him.

"Wooyoung, let’s not overwhelm her just yet," came a calm voice.

The guy who spoke was composed, elegant even, with an aura that felt more mature. He didn’t have the teasing smirk of the others, but there was still something unreadable in his gaze as he looked at her.

Seonghwa.

She had to mentally pin their names down before she got lost in the sea of hotness sitting at this table.

"Overwhelm me? No, no, I’m perfectly chill," YN finally found her voice, waving her hands.

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

"…Chill?"

Seonghwa blinked, and the rest of them looked at her like she had just recited an ancient curse.

Oh. Right.

She forgot she had to blend in.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. "I mean… I am quite alright."

San squinted at her like he knew she was trying too hard, but before he could say anything, another voice entered the conversation.

"You should introduce yourselves properly."

The speaker had a quieter presence than the others, but something about him made YN instinctively straighten up. He was observing her closely, but not in a way that felt rude—just… analytical.

Hongjoong nodded at him. "Good point, Yeosang.”

The introductions started off simple enough.

"San," the sharp-eyed guy across from her said, offering no further explanation. His smirk was just as sharp as his gaze.

"Wooyoung," the mischievous-looking one added, tilting his head with a grin. "Don’t look so tense. We don’t bite—well, most of us don’t."

Before she could react to that, another voice cut in. "Seonghwa." He had an air of elegance, his tone calm but firm.

"Yunho," the tallest one introduced himself with an easy smile. He seemed like one of the friendlier ones, which made her feel a little less like she was being interrogated.

"Mingi," the giant beside him said simply. His voice was deep but not as intimidating as she expected.

"Yeosang," came the smooth, composed voice of the one who had been analyzing her since she arrived.

"Jongho," the last one stated, his expression unreadable. He was definitely one of the more serious ones.

YN blinked, processing all the names. They had just casually introduced themselves like normal people. But something still felt off.

Hongjoong, who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke. "You seem confused."

YN scoffed. "Confused? No, no, I’m just—uh, you know, chillin’."

Seven pairs of eyes stared at her again.

She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Forget I said that. What I meant was—why am I here? And why are you guys so invested in me?"

Hongjoong exhaled dramatically, resting his chin on his hand. "I suppose there’s no point in dragging it out any longer."

She frowned. "Dragging what out?"

He leaned back slightly, scanning her face before dropping the bomb.

"We are the eight princes of Atravelle."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

YN’s brain straight-up lagged.

"…The what now?"

"The princes," Seonghwa repeated, watching for her reaction.

"You mean, like, royalty?" she asked dumbly.

San rolled his eyes. "What else would ‘princes’ mean?"

"I don’t know!" she threw her hands up. "Maybe I thought you guys were some kind of—I don’t know—knights? Warriors? A really attractive cult?"

Wooyoung snorted. "A cult?"

"Don’t act like it wasn’t plausible," she shot back, still trying to process everything.

"Wait, wait—" she held up a hand. "So you’re telling me that all of you—every single one—are royalty?"

"That is precisely what we are telling you," Yeosang confirmed.

She stared at them again.

"So you mean to tell me," she exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose, "not one, not two, but eight princes are sitting here in front of me?"

Jongho raised an eyebrow. "You seem troubled by that."

YN let out a slightly unhinged laugh. "Troubled? Oh, nooo, I’m totally fine. I’m just a humble priest’s daughter who got thrown into an arena, calmed a Titan, and is now casually dining with royalty."

She leaned back in her chair, eyes wide. "This is just my normal Tuesday."

Hongjoong smirked, clearly amused. "You are very strange."

She glared at him. "And you are withholding a lot of information."

His smirk didn’t waver. "Perhaps."

Then Jongho surprisingly started, "You do realize that what you did with that creature is impossible, right?" he asked, arms crossed.

Right.

That.

That was the question she knew was coming.

She had managed to calm a raging beast—no, not just any beast. A Titan.

And she had no idea how or why.

"I mean… I guess?" she tried, but that clearly wasn’t the answer they were looking for.

Mingi tilted his head. "You guess?"

Wooyoung leaned forward. "Come on, priestess, tell us your secret."

"I am not a priestess," she shot back instantly, but they ignored her.

Hongjoong was watching her now, elbows resting on the table, fingers interlocked. He hadn’t asked her outright yet, but his expression told her he was waiting.

She swallowed.

Alright.

Time to try and explain the unexplainable.

"I really don’t know how I did it," she started, gripping the edge of the table. "One second I was about to get crushed, and the next thing I knew, it just… calmed down.”

"Because of you?" Yeosang asked.

"I—maybe?" she ran a hand through her hair. "I think? Look, all I did was panic and—boom—friendly Titan."

There was another pause.

Then Wooyoung burst into laughter.

"Boom—friendly Titan?" he repeated, shaking his head.

San looked at him. "She talks weird."

"She talks different," Seonghwa corrected.

"Is that not the same thing?"

YN groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Kill me."

Hongjoong chuckled under his breath. "Not just yet, priestess."

She glared at him. "I do have a name, you know."

"Yes," he nodded, eyes glinting. "But priestess suits you."

YN wanted to throw something at his smug face.

Unfortunately, she was outnumbered, so she just exhaled and focused on not losing her mind.

Because one thing was clear—

These guys weren’t just curious.

They were invested.

And she had no idea what that meant for her.

It was Yeosang who finally broke the silence. “How do you think you did it?”

YN blinked at him. “Did… what?”

He tilted his head slightly, like he was studying her. “The taming. How did you manage to calm the beast?”

Oh. That.

She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Honestly? I have no idea.” She shrugged. “It was coming at me full speed, and I kinda just… accepted my fate. Closed my eyes and braced for impact.”

A brief silence settled over the table.

Then—without a single word—the princes exchanged glances. Not just casual looks, either. This was silent communication. A full-on, detailed conversation just by flicking their eyes at each other.

Seonghwa finally spoke. “It’s alright. We have plenty of time to figure out how.”

YN blinked.

Wait. We have plenty of time?

Oh.

OH.

That was when it finally hit her.

They were not letting her go.

Girl, you’re doomed. This is it. This is your life now.

She forced a laugh. “Uh… what do you mean by that?”

Mingi, who had been mostly quiet, simply leaned back. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Oh my god.

She quickly masked her panic, sitting up straighter. “I mean—I was supposed to take the animal and leave, right? So… since that’s, uh, not happening, what is happening?”

Hongjoong smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Her eye twitched.

She was so going to fight him.

You pushed your chair back and stood up abruptly. "No. Nope. This is not acceptable," you declared, hands slamming on the table. "You cannot just keep information from me, especially when it's about me."

The room went silent.

It wasn’t the outburst that caught their attention—it was the fact that you were standing between Mingi and Yunho, both of whom were huge. Even with you standing and them still seated, they still towered over you. It was almost comical, like a tiny kitten hissing at two lions.

Wooyoung snorted, barely holding in his laugh. "This is hilarious."

Seonghwa shot him a warning glance, but even he looked faintly amused.

Hongjoong, however, just leaned back in his chair, watching you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure you want to know?"

You crossed your arms. "Yes."

His lips curled into a smirk. A menacing one. "Then here it is, priestess. You’re staying here to tame all of the Titans present in Atravelle."

Silence.

You blinked. "I’m sorry, what?"

Yeosang sipped his tea like this was a casual breakfast conversation. "You heard him."

Your brain malfunctioned for a second.

"ALL of them?"

"Every single one," San confirmed, way too casually for your liking.

Your hands flew to your head. "Bro—what makes you think I can do that? I don’t even know what I did!"

Jongho, who had been quiet till now, finally spoke. "You’re the only one who’s ever managed it. That��s why we need you."

You exhaled, pacing slightly. "Okay, but see, here’s the thing—what if it was a one-time thing? What if that was just a fluke?"

Wooyoung grinned. "Guess we’ll find out, huh?"

You groaned.

You clenched your fists. "Okay, but what if I refuse?"

Hongjoong barely looked up from his plate. "You don’t have a say."

Your eye twitched. "Excuse me?"

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, San—spoke, his voice smooth yet firm. "Sit down, priestess."

And for some godforsaken reason, you did.

Maybe it was the way he said it—low, authoritative, like he knew you would obey. Or maybe it was the way his eyes bore into yours, a silent challenge you weren’t prepared to take. But whatever it was, your body moved before your brain could catch up. You were back in your chair before you even realized it.

Wooyoung, of course, was loving this. He grinned, resting his chin on his hand. "You look good listening to us. Now, eat."

Your eye twitched again.

You were going to lose your mind.

You sat there, silently eating, trying to process the absolute insanity of the situation. Meanwhile, they—the literal eight princes of Atravelle—were anything but silent.

Jokes were thrown across the table like it was a battlefield, and for a bunch of men who looked like they were sculpted by gods themselves, they were behaving like absolute losers.

"Mingi, stop hogging the bread, you giant—"

"I’m not hogging it, Yeosang, you just have tiny hands—"

"Tiny hands?! You—You absolute tree!"

"What? Not my fault you can’t reach across the table."

"I swear to the heavens, if you do not hand me the bread—"

Meanwhile, Jongho, sitting beside them, casually picked up an apple and crushed it with one hand, completely unbothered.

You nearly choked on your food.

On the other side of the table, Wooyoung and San were ganging up on Yunho, nudging him in the ribs as he groaned in frustration.

"I’m just saying," Wooyoung teased, leaning into Yunho’s space, "you have a habit of staring, man."

"I do not!" Yunho grumbled, shoving him away.

"You totally do," San agreed. "Like earlier? When she was dragged into the arena? Your mouth was literally open."

You blinked. Were they talking about you?

"I—!" Yunho spluttered, ears burning red. "That’s—! I was just shocked!"

"Mhm, sure," San smirked. "Shocked by what? Her eyes? Her hair?"

Wooyoung laughed. "He’s shocked by how pretty she is—"

"Eat your food before I throw you across the room," Yunho snapped.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong sat at the head of the table, watching the chaos unfold with an exasperated yet amused glint in his eyes.

And you? You were still stuck on the fact that you were currently surrounded by eight drop-dead gorgeous royal men who also happened to be absolute dumbasses.

Handsome losers.

Your life was a mess.

After the meal was done, you got up and casually—very casually—tried to make your way back to your room.

Only one slight problem.

This castle was huge.

Like, ridiculously huge. The kind of huge that made no sense. The hallways stretched forever, the turns were confusing, and every damn corridor looked exactly the same.

You weren’t about to embarrass yourself by asking someone for directions like a lost child. Nope. You would rather wander until you somehow miraculously stumbled upon your room.

So, you stood there, pretending you totally knew where you were going, hands on your hips, nodding at a random hallway like, yeah, this looks familiar.

You took a step forward, determined to fake it till you made it—

And then you felt it.

Breath.

Warm breath.

Right behind you.

Your entire soul left your body.

You spun around so fast you nearly collided with the person standing there.

And oh.

Oh, you were done for.

Because standing behind you was one of the princes.

And he was way too close.

It was Seonghwa.

And he was standing way too close.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and had the kind of presence that demanded attention without him even trying. His dark eyes studied you with quiet amusement, his lips barely curling at the edges, as if he knew something you didn’t.

"You appear lost," he said smoothly, his voice rich and controlled.

You immediately straightened, trying to save face. "No, I'm not."

One of his brows arched. "Oh?"

"Yeah," you said, crossing your arms, attempting to look confident. "I was just... admiring the architecture."

Seonghwa tilted his head slightly. "The architecture?"

"Yeah. The, uh... walls. Very wall-like. Great walls. Top-tier."

There was a pause. Then—

"I see," he murmured, clearly holding back laughter.

Damn it.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, fine. I’m lost."

Seonghwa finally let out a soft chuckle. "Come. I will take you back."

He turned, expecting you to follow. And well... what choice did you have? You weren’t about to wander around until you accidentally walked into the royal treasury or something.

As you walked beside him, you glanced up. "You don’t have to do this, you know."

Seonghwa didn’t look at you, but his expression was unreadable. "I was asked to."

You frowned. "By who?"

"Hongjoong."

Of course.

The damn prince had probably figured you’d get lost and decided you needed babysitting.

As you walked beside Seonghwa, the question had been nagging at you the entire time. You had seen the creature. You had seen the blood, the smoke, the person that had been pulled out of it. It made no sense.

So, finally, you asked, "What are Titans?"

Seonghwa didn’t stop walking, but he did glance at you, as if assessing whether you truly wanted to know. Then, after a brief pause, he started explaining.

Titans, as he described, were monstrous, humanoid beings—towering in size, with an insatiable instinct for destruction. Some were mindless, acting only on a primal urge to attack. Others, however, had intelligence, strategy. And those—those were the ones to truly fear.

You listened, nodding like you understood, but holy shit. This was so much worse than you thought. Not only were they terrifying, but apparently, some humans could become them. The guy they pulled out of the Titan today? That meant—

"So, wait—" you tried, attempting to put the pieces together. "That dude earlier. He was inside the Titan, but he was the Titan?"

Seonghwa nodded.

You blinked. "You know a lot about them."

At this, Seonghwa finally looked at you, his sharp gaze settling on yours. And then, in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine, he said,

"I have to."

You didn’t know why, but something about the way he said it made your stomach drop.

It wasn’t long before Seonghwa finally stopped in front of your room.

"Here," he said.

You turned to him, hesitant. "...Thanks."

He gave you a small nod, then, just as he was about to leave, he glanced back.

"Try not to wander too much, priestess," he said, his voice carrying something unreadable. "You never know where you might end up."

And with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, feeling like that was absolutely some kind of warning.

Seonghwa entered the dimly lit chamber where the rest of the princes were already gathered. The air was thick with anticipation, all eyes turning to him as he stepped inside.

Hongjoong, seated at the head of the table, leaned forward, fingers interlocked. “So?” he asked, his voice steady but expectant.

Seonghwa exhaled. “She asked.”

A subtle shift passed through the room. Yunho tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest. Mingi let out a low hum, tapping his fingers against the table. Yeosang remained silent, but his gaze sharpened, his mind already running through the implications.

“So, she’s curious,” Wooyoung mused, leaning back in his chair. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Or a problem,” San countered, his eyes narrowing. “Curiosity leads to questions, and questions lead to truths she might not be ready for.”

“She doesn’t have to be ready,” Hongjoong said simply, drumming his fingers on the table. “She will learn. Because she doesn’t have a choice.”

There was a beat of silence.

“She has no clue what she’s done,” Jongho muttered, arms resting on the table as he stared at its polished surface. “She tamed a Titan—without knowing how. That’s not normal.”

“It is impossible,” Yeosang corrected, finally speaking up. “Even if she had some natural ability, even if she had years of training—it should not have worked. And yet, it did.”

A slow smile crept onto Hongjoong’s lips. “Then she’s exactly who we need.”

Yeosang, ever the intellectual, adjusted his posture, his brows furrowing in deep thought. “It’s not possible,” he stated firmly. “Taming a Titan—any Titan—is unheard of. Even more so when the Titan in question is a shifter.” His voice was calm, but the weight of his words settled heavily in the room.

Wooyoung, ever the one to lighten the mood, exhaled dramatically. “Honestly, I’m still in shock. Like, I watched it happen, literally. And my brain still refuses to accept it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She just stood there and suddenly, boom, it felt like I was tamed by her.”

Seonghwa, who had remained composed throughout, finally spoke. “She saw the man who came out,” he informed them, his gaze sharp. “But she didn’t see who he was.”

A beat of silence followed his statement.

“Well,” Yunho mused, leaning back in his chair, “that’s a damn relief. If she had, we would’ve been beyond screwed.”

Jongho let out a low hum of agreement. “We’re already treading dangerous waters. She’s observant, and if she starts asking the wrong questions…”

Hongjoong smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Then we’ll just have to make sure she asks the right ones instead.”

The room remained silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling in.

Seonghwa crossed his arms. “She’s already asking about the Titans. It won’t be long before she starts wondering about everything else.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming idly against the wooden surface. “That’s fine,” he said simply. “Let her ask. We want her to be curious.”

Yeosang frowned slightly. “Curiosity will be dangerous.”

Hongjoong’s smirk widened. “Only if she finds the wrong answers.”

The words hung in the air, unspoken understanding passing between the princes. They had all known this moment would come the second she calmed the Titan. She wasn’t just some lost girl—she was now an anomaly, something they couldn’t ignore.

“She’s not stupid,” Jongho pointed out. “She already knows we’re keeping things from her.”

“Then let’s make sure what we do tell her keeps her on our side,” San said, his tone light but his meaning clear.

Mingi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “How do we even do that? It’s not like we can just sit her down and explain centuries of history to her over tea.”

“Actually, we could,” Yunho mused, before grinning. “But I doubt she’d sit still long enough.”

Wooyoung laughed. “No way. She’d either zone out or start asking the most ridiculous questions.” He mimicked YN’s voice dramatically, “‘So like, when did y’all decide to have giant murder creatures ‘chilling’ in your kingdom?’”

Seonghwa shook his head, but even he had a small smile at that.

But Yeosang’s mind was still on the bigger picture. “We need to test her again.”

Everyone turned to him.

“She could have been lucky,” he continued. “A single Titan responding to her once does not confirm anything. If she truly has this ability, then it should work again.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, considering it. “You’re right.”

Wooyoung grinned. “So, what? We just throw her into the pit again and hope for the best?”

“Not yet,” Hongjoong said, standing up. “We’ll give her time to settle first. Let her believe she’s safe here.”

San leaned back, arms resting behind his head. “And then?”

Hongjoong smirked.

“Then, we see if she really is the key we’ve been waiting for.”

Meanwhile, in YN’s Room…

You lay flat on the giant-ass bed, staring at the ceiling, existential crisis fully activated.

“…I am so screwed.”

The events of the day kept replaying in your head. The dinner. The bombshell of the eight princes. The Titan taming. The fact that they basically said you were stuck here forever.

You groaned, rolling onto your side. Okay. Brainstorm time.

Option 1: Run away. LOL. Yeah, no. You’d probably get lost before even making it out of the palace.

Option 2: Refuse to cooperate. But then what? They’d just keep you locked up.

Option 3: Play along and figure out what’s really going on.

…Yeah. That was the only real choice, wasn’t it?

With a sigh, you sat up. Fine. If they wanted you to be some kind of Titan whisperer, then you’d at least make sure you understood what you were dealing with.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d find a way out of this mess in the process.

Over the next few days, you noticed something strange.

Despite what Hongjoong said—despite the whole “you don’t have a choice” thing—you weren’t being treated like a prisoner.

No locked doors. No chains. No guards breathing down your neck every second.

Instead, you were… kind of being spoiled.

Your room? Huge. The bed? Felt like sleeping on a cloud. Every morning, a tray of food was brought in, filled with things you didn’t even know existed but tasted amazing. And the weirdest part? The princes kept checking on you.

Like, actual royalty. The most powerful men in the kingdom. Just casually stopping by.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. Maybe they had to make sure you didn’t jump out a window or something. But nah, these guys were actually going out of their way to talk to you.

Seonghwa was the first. He didn’t say much—just knocked on your door one morning and handed you a book. “You looked bored,” was all he said before walking off.

(You were, in fact, bored. But you were not expecting Prince Perfect Face to be the one to fix that.)

Then there was Yunho. You ran into him in one of the halls (because yes, you did eventually get lost). Instead of making fun of you, he just laughed and walked you back to your room, chatting the whole time like you were old friends.

Mingi? He straight-up handed you a dagger to practice. Didn’t even explain. Just put it in your hands, patted your head like you were some kid, and said, “You should learn to protect yourself.”

(Which was honestly kind of sweet in a very ‘I can’t say emotions so take this knife’ way.)

And don’t even get started on Wooyoung. That menace? He was just having fun messing with you. Always sneaking up, teasing you, calling you priestess just to see you get annoyed.

But out of all of them, Hongjoong was the one who confused you the most.

He was watching you. Not in a creepy way, but in a calculating way. Like he was waiting. For what, you had no idea. But sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you like he knew something you didn’t.

And the worst part? Being around them, it was easy to forget the situation you were in.

Because yeah, they were princes, but they were also just… men. And not just any men—attractive, confident, powerful men who, at the end of the day, still acted like a bunch of chaotic idiots when they were together.

Which was dangerous.

Because the more comfortable you got, the more you wanted to trust them.

But you couldn’t.

Right?

One afternoon, you were in one of the palace gardens, sitting by a fountain, when a voice spoke behind you.

“You look less miserable than usual.”

You turned and found Yeosang standing there, arms crossed.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “What a compliment. I feel so special.”

He huffed out a small laugh and sat beside you, surprisingly close. His presence was warm—solid.

After a moment, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You’re not scared anymore.”

That threw you off. You frowned, turning to face him. “I—what?”

“The first day you were here, you looked ready to bolt at any second,” he said, his gaze steady. “But now… you don’t.”

You swallowed.

You wanted to argue. To say that of course you were still scared. That you weren’t dumb enough to feel safe here.

But… was that really true?

You did feel safer.

Not because you trusted them completely, but because… they had never actually hurt you. They had the power to, but they hadn’t.

And deep down, part of you was starting to believe they wouldn’t.

“…You’re making it really hard for me to keep my guard up,” you muttered.

Yeosang smirked. “Good.”

You scowled. “No, not good. I’m supposed to be—ugh. Forget it.”

He just looked at you, amused. Then, after a moment, he said, “We’re not your enemies, YN.”

Your stomach twisted. Aren’t you?

Before you could answer, he stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.

“Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Hongjoong wants to see you.”

You eyed his hand, debating whether to take it.

Then, with a sigh, you reached out.

And just like that, he pulled you to your feet—holding on just a second longer than necessary before letting go.

Yeah. This was dangerous.

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