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hanibalistic · 1 month

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GOOD OLD GORYEO | HWANG HYUNJIN

genre | fluff, angst, romance, friendship / time traveling au, historical au, royalty au

synopsis | opening your eyes after being blinded by the sun and finding out you got teleported back in time is definitely one way to avoid attending classes! but one thing worse than time traveling is having to pretend you came from america.

word count | 24.1k+

warning | minor use of weapons / mentions of old-fashioned, bigoted ideas, mentions of war / not accurate to history

note | i eat oatmeal cookies the way a blind cow eats grass. normally, like every other cow.

parts | one, two

There were times when you regretted not studying for your exams. Clicking away from the practice questions, your professor didn’t need to spend the time and effort to make because you knew it wouldn’t be the same as the actual exam anyway, you were always more interested in something else. An obviously staged social experiment, a play-through of a game you have to watch through the gaps of your timid fingers, and even a video of a random guy on the internet teaching you how to pick a lock. Anything that didn’t involve what you chose to learn was good enough.

However, those moments happened less after you entered college than when you were still in high school. You could barely remember how your teacher’s magnified voice echoed through a small classroom, bringing the three dreadful words ‘five minutes left.’ And you were never sure whether it was the sudden emergence of a timed threat in a soundless classroom that always startled you or that you always had an incredible amount of questions marked unanswered on your exam that scared you the most.

Those were times when you regretted not studying for your tests, and there were times when you didn’t when you were glad you caved into distraction and allowed yourself the opportunity to learn some life skills.

That time was right now.

“Okay, you got this,” you whispered, rubbing your fingertips across the body of the bobby pins in your hand. Giving the outside of the tight-spaced jail cell a quick glance, making sure the guards who dragged you here weren't paying you any attention, you reached your hand out between jail bars and cranked your wrist to reach the rusty lock.

To provide context, which you weren’t so sure of either, you might have time-traveled. That was a far-fetched assumption but the only reasonable assumption you could think of. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been enough time for you to gather any facts or recall the sequence of events that led up to your current position, which was in the chambers of a palace.

What you could immediately remember was that (a) when you left home for school, you got startled by a crow taking off and accidentally met eyes with the rising sun, (b) you bumped your head against a utility pole because you were busy recovering from looking directly at the sun, and (c) when you opened your eyes again, you were in the middle of a throne room where a meeting was being held.

You likely would have been executed if not for the fascination of palace officials with your unique attire. You overslept this morning, but since you knew the commute tended to be smoother than in the afternoon, you could take your time preparing for your early morning class. Regardless, the only thing you prepared for was what you needed for classes and spending a full day at the library. The outfit you haphazardly threw on was as simple as a cozy sweater and a pair of pants, but they were unique enough for people from centuries ago.

A shiver finally ran down your spine. Took your body long enough to react to the situation! You should be freaked out about the very realistic—for your current situation—possibility of time traveling and being stuck in an era where the royal status meant everything, especially with all the bad reputation history classes and historical dramas have given these eras. At the very least, picking a lock should be the last thing you should remember!

But you’ve read and watched enough of such scenarios to deduce that if you do die, the worst-case scenario is that you feel some pain. Then, you would wake up on a hospital bed or somewhere in the street. Your worst-case scenario was being sent home, which should be your priority. Still, the thought of death was unnerving, so you doubted you would be looking for it anytime soon.

“Gotcha!” you hissed out joyfully after a good ten minutes of digging around the inner structure of the lock with two tiny pins you never remembered to return to your friend after she took them off her head to redo her hair.

The lock fell open. You pressed your face close to the bars to peek outside. When it felt the coast was clear, you carefully removed the lock from the door, placing it on the floor and scooting over to the back of the cell. You grabbed your schoolbag from the floor and shoved the bobby pins inside the smaller pocket where you found them.

As you were about to zip your bag up, you tore your gaze away from the chamber halls to the inside of your bag. Your eyes landed on a device fit between your lunch and textbooks.

You hummed as you examined the Taser in your hand. Your friend had gotten a duo pack for cheaper after they got accepted into an internship program that required them to work late. They gifted it to you for safety reasons, knowing you’ve got late-night classes one day of the week.

You never thought you’d use it; the campus at night was generally safe, and the walk from the bus stop to your apartment wasn’t long enough to garner any paranoia. Still, it was good that you didn’t fight them on receiving it.

It was ironic that you’ve never had to use the Taser for its assumed situations, but this was an extenuating circumstance, a peculiar emergency. A Taser would come in handy. Shoving it in your pants pocket, you put on your school bag and approached the gate. Thoroughly checking the chamber hall, you slowly slid open the creaking door, cursing at the rough metal feeling on your hands that was undoubtedly going to leave a sickening smell. Successfully slipping out of the jail cell, you went down to where you got dragged from.

The giddy feeling of your escape didn’t last long when the sight of two guards loomed over the shadow of the exit. Palming over the Taser through your pants, you pursed your lips at the disdainful idea that you might have to use it at any mildly inconvenient moment, which would surely use up its cartridges. You cursed at the unfavorable outcome, dumbly looking around your area to see if there was any spare weapon for you to use.

No spears and no shields. You only have the electric gun, sharp stationery, heavyweight textbooks, portable charging cord, and two durable devices.

You glanced at the guards again and sighed. The best chance may be to knock out one of them and bolt. Trying to fight two guards with nothing but adrenaline-filled instincts was far too risky. Leaving your Taser alone, you reached behind for your schoolbag and hastily unzipped it. Your hands fumbled about, finally grabbing the long, thick charging cord. You didn’t bother to zip your bag up as you carefully held onto both ends of the cable, stretching them as much as your arms allowed.

With silent encouragements, you slowly inched your way towards the guard on the right. Then, acting the quickest you have ever been, you stood on your toes to ensure you got the cord around his head and lowered it to his neck. Instead of focusing on choking the guard, once you realize that his partner took notice of you, you yanked his body toward his partner and made them stumble into the wall.

Your desperate attempt has worked! Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you released the guard. You immediately jumped over his legs and planned to bolt out of the chamber when you noticed a man standing by the entrance.

You widened your eyes as you accessed him briefly. His long hair flowed past his shoulders, with parts of his hair tied into a topknot ponytail. Without any knowledge of the current dynasty’s clothing hierarchy, you couldn’t tell what his attire represented—mainly whether he was royalty.

In your opinion, though, he wasn’t flashy enough to be someone of high status. He also didn’t appear threatening. His features were gentle and handsome. He seemed an unlikely trouble.

Your eyes twitched. You weren’t sure what to do next. You didn’t want to make any mistakes based on invalid, shallow assumptions. After all, you couldn’t tell the Queen was the traitor until the season’s finale, and television shows already give you the most blatant foreshadows.

Hyunjin mirrored your expression of wide and bewildered eyes. His lips tucked down into a frown, pursed together tightly in shock from witnessing what you did to the guards. It took him a few moments to process the scene. Afterward, he looked at you fully to access you like you did him. Your clothing was of a very unfamiliar style; your shoes were made of leather, but he couldn’t make out what those loopy strings were. The dull-colored bag you wore was something he’d never seen before.

Oh, and you just made a fool of two trained prison guards as a mere peasant.

Hyunjin breathed in gently. Peasant wouldn’t be the right word, would it? After the court meeting, he’s heard people talk about you around the palace. He was not there to witness your abrupt arrival, but from all that he had gathered, you didn’t sound like—you didn’t look like!—someone from around this place.

“I mean no harm.” You slowly held up your hands in surrender as you inched sideways away from the chamber exit, away from him. “Just let me walk away from here. Please.”

Hyunjin’s eyes trailed along your snail-like movements. You wanted to leave, he understood that. Fortunately, he was partly on the same page as you, too. Not only has he no plans to engage in a fight, especially knowing that you’ve got a weapon at your disposal, but he frankly saw injustice in your sentencing. Nobody was harmed upon your arrival. Throwing you in the chambers and making you knock down two guards was the palace’s fault. They forced your hand. However, looking past you at the guards, who were beginning to regain their composure, he realized your time had run out.

His silence was questionable, but you took his motionless figure as a sign of freedom. Gulping a knot down your throat, you stumbled at his persistent stare. Chalking it up to immense curiosity and a possible lack of manners, you tried to shake off his gaze as you turned your head to face forward.

In front of you was an empty courtyard, likely at the very back of the palace for the prison chambers and more walls you might have to climb over. Sweat began gathering at your armpits and head—you could barely run a mile, let alone climb a wall.

Fully turning around, you gave yourself some time to collect your thoughts before you started to breeze away from the chamber. Your mind was so occupied with organizing your thoughts that you didn’t notice the two guards you pushed into the wall stomping towards your way.

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped slightly when they ignored his presence, likely due to prioritizing the rules of the palace to catch all prisoners and disrespecting his low rank. But, realizing you were in trouble, he quickly pulled himself together and marched toward you.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder, anxiously looking up to find the man standing closely beside you. Your brows furrowed as you exclaimed, “I thought you were letting me go!”

“Hello, guards,” Hyunjin greeted, promptly ignoring you.

He turned to the armored men with a polite smile plastered on his face. Then he motioned towards them with a quick nod as they both bowed their heads down, a response drastically different than what they did a second ago. His chest churned at the sight. It wasn’t easy to disregard his status when it was a direct confrontation. He wasn’t all that big on a royalty’s power struggle, but it sure could come in handy no matter how little of it he owned.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” one of the guards greeted loudly.

You glanced away from the two guards to process what he said. Your Highness. Your Highness. Saying it slower in your head didn’t conjure any more understanding than when he first said it. Your Highness—you snapped your head up at the man who has you by the shoulder, your eyes wide in awe.

He paid no attention to you, his focus entirely on dealing with the two guards adamant about recapturing you. No way! You didn’t address him properly, and he witnessed you escape the chambers. But, now that you took a better look at him, he’s quite princely!

“What the fuck,” you hissed under your breath. “Which one are you?”

Hyunjin flashed you a questioning glance and paused when he noticed your darting eyes. You were clearly anxious, and he wouldn’t understand why beyond the fact that you’ve been involved in palace matters as a commoner. Still, he made an attempt to calm you down by giving your shoulder a loose squeeze of reassurance.

“Your Highness, why are you with the prisoner? Are they attempting to attack you?”

You instinctively stood behind Hyunjin when the men raised their spears as if ready to engage in a fight. You grimaced with a timid glare, wanting so bad to tell them off, but knowing you were at a disadvantage here, you chose to let him handle the matter.

He briefly licked his lower lip, finding the trust you put in him demanding but glorious. Nobody has depended on him for anything because of how little say he has as a prince compared to his brothers, courtesy to his mother’s old age and infertility that, for once, his fortunate good looks couldn’t overshadow.

“You saw me walk toward them. Clearly, they weren’t trying to attack me,” Hyunjin pointed out with a deadpan. These people would say anything with no qualms or reason.

“Then I must request that you hand them over to us.”

“About that–“ Hyunjin paused. He hadn’t thought of any excuse before his instincts to help took over him. Knowing the guards, they would bother him to his wit’s end about keeping you in the dungeon unless he said something they could not refute, and the only thing he knew that no man in the palace could turn down was his father, The king. “They are a distant cousin of mine.”

You slowly arched your head up to frown at him.

“I forgot they are to stay at the palace with me temporarily to visit my family after their travel. It was my mistake that their return slipped my mind,” he continued without sparing you a glance. “I have come to retrieve them from the chambers.”

You pursed your lips together as the guards lowered their weapons. The situation and Hyunjin’s excuse were no longer ridiculous but amusing. It was a horrible lie. Besides its implausibility, it could potentially damage your impression of the intellectual level of people born in this era or tarnish your image of Hyunjin, given that his forgetting a family member was believable.

“We need to inform your father about this, Your Highness. We have been appointed to keep an eye on them especially.”

One of the guards nodded towards you, making you step behind the prince. But still, you peeked a head over his shoulder with a frown, and you sneered at the guards. Leaning closer to the back of his neck, you huffed quietly, “Seriously, am I that threatening, or is your dad a scaredy-cat?”

Hyunjin widened his eyes as he briefly whipped around to stare at you. Name-calling a king was a serious offense, although it served no real repercussions. Everyone knew not to talk ill of his father on palace grounds, so to hear you do so in public jolted his heart with immeasurable panic.

Thankfully, the guards didn’t seem to have heard you, as their faces remained rigid. Not that it would’ve mattered if they did, considering any accusations against you could be deflected easily by a simple lie from him.

He furrowed his brows. His readiness to shield you, a stranger from nowhere, from the wrath of the palace court surprised him.

“If they are to be released, we must inform His Majesty as according to his order, Your Highness.”

No matter how open-minded you were, certain things were just unnecessary. You would have done so if you wanted to attack anyone in the palace. Not to mention how problematic it was to lock a person up out of suspicion simply for being out of the ordinary, wearing unfamiliar clothing, or having new gadgets. You rolled your eyes, and then you sighed in defeat. Bring a modern mindset to old times only worked in movies. Trying to defy royalty in old-town Korea would get you nothing more than a death sentence, even with a prince on your side.

But, above all else, you needed freedom to explore ways to return home, so you figured your best bet was to comply.

“Take me to see the king, then.” Stepping out from behind Hyunjin, you crossed your arms. “We were going to see him anyway. You get to inform him of our relationship and I get to prove my innocence.”

“Wait, hold on–“ Hyunjin turned you around by your shoulders, squeezing you as if to jolt you from delusion.

His plan was never to take you to see his father and clear your name. He wanted to remove the guards, bring you to an exit, and let you leave. Once you were gone, it was his words against the guards. If he claimed that he had never seen you before, the fault of your escape would bounce back to them. Both of you would get off scot-free. Your bold request to meet his father wasn’t helpful.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered through closed teeth as he stared wide-eyed at you. He wasn’t menacing, only concerned and fearful.

You furrowed your brows at his aggression, only able to glance at his grip on your shoulders. Returning from your shrunken state caused by Hyunjin’s abrupt touch, you relaxed your joints and your annoyed brows to stand up to him. “Do you know what I’m talking about?”

On second thought, parading as Hyunjin’s cousin and establishing a relationship with royalty may be the superior way to get out of the palace. All you have to do is lie in the royal court, which you were good at. After that, you could stay in the palace for a few days and leave because it was time for you to return home. You didn’t think the prince thought of all this when he spilled the deception, but it worked out in your favor!

“A death wish is what you have,” he continued to mutter once he got closer to you.

“You were the one who suggested that I become your cousin.”

“To get the guards off our backs!”

“I thought so,” you nodded, “and I say we play the role.”

Your eyes were unwavering, unlike his, but more importantly, they met his. You spoke and thought like someone unknown to the court’s cruelty and the king’s almighty status. He loosened his grip as he again remembered you were not from this place. You were something, somewhere new. Something, somewhere better than here. Hyunjin softened; now wasn’t the time to yearn for a greater unknown.

“If anyone finds out we lied to His Majesty, both of us will be punished,” he whispered.

Your lips quirked downward. “The king is your father.”

“I am not his favorite son.”

He was sure of it. It came out with such ease that it pained you.

“Then there should be no grievances in keeping a lie,” you said after a moment paused. “He knew nothing of you, so he wouldn’t know me. This is the perfect lie.”

You looked less determined, but he thought it wasn’t because you feared what could happen. It was because of what he said about his father. Despite your faltered resolve, you were the one to search for his doubtful eyes, and to think he was the one who stepped up to save you from trouble.

“How do you propose we do this then, stranger?”

“You can start by calling me [Name],” you said. “And your name is?”

“Oh,” he paused in uncertainty to fight the knot in his throat, “Hwang Hyunjin.”

You couldn’t recall reading about him in textbooks.

You liked to pride yourself in lying well, and you wanted to believe you were pretty good at improvising. Despite your occasional jittery demeanor, when push came to shove, you stood your ground well. That superhuman reaction didn’t apply to daily events, such as socializing with others and being confronted in class. But, in the moment of being stared down by a pair of curious yet condescending eyes, you realize you’ve never known genuine fear until now.

Your classmates were never going to kill you, but The king might.

Sweaty hands curled behind your back, you nibbled the inside of your lower lip, the fleshy region between your lip and your chin, and allowed your eyes to roam the courtroom without turning your head. After the initial awe of seeing The king in real life, you marveled at the fact that he looked nothing like the pictures (if you remembered the correct king). Then you found out you were less afraid of him than you were amused.

You could barely recall anything about history, but you still knew more of him than he of you. That should give you an advantage.

The palace court wasn’t big, but it was grand. It was similar to one of your school’s lecture halls, but instead of dull desks and chairs, it was decorated from top to bottom red and gold—the color of prosperity and wealth respectively, even though it only looked tacky and old-fashioned to you.

“My fifth son.”

You glanced at Hyunjin as he bowed with his hands behind him to greet his father. The newly found information entered your head and returned with nothing of importance.

A King’s fifth son didn’t sound outstanding, and Hyunjin probably wasn’t, considering your inability to recall ever hearing his name. Although, to be fair, when he gave you a brief rundown on his immediate family members, you couldn’t remember learning any of his brother’s names either. The only person you knew was his father. Unfortunately, the memories of history his father jolted in you were limited.

As for the long history of Goguryeo, that was something you’ve mostly forgotten since last semester when you took one history class for your general education requirement. Your best bet now was to hope you didn’t bother to delete the pirated textbook, class notes, and assignments from your tablet.

Besides the interior of the room, sitting off to the side were the king’s seven sons. You could only throw a glance at them to avoid raising suspicion, which wasn’t enough to gauge how many of them were good candidates to appeal to if this plan failed.

Glancing to the side during his bow, Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed when he found you staring aimlessly at the man on the throne, the unintentional pout on your face thoughtful yet nonchalant.

Muttering a panicked curse, he reached to tug at your arm without looking up. You were brought down by surprise and then riddled with disbelief when you were met with an identical glare.

“What is your problem?” you hissed.

“You need to bow!” he returned hastily through barely opened lips. “Also, keep it down!”

“Worrywart,” you muttered with an eye-roll.

Hyunjin ignored you as he straightened himself. He wasn’t too worried about his brothers’ opinion of you or whether they would figure out he was lying. Despite their mothers’ dishonorable relationships with one another, marked by the need to please the king as a means to give their sons only the greatest, he and his brothers were as tight as a clove hitch. They wouldn’t vocalize their concerns in the courtroom until further discussion.

Besides, as his eyes darted between his father and his brothers, he realized they were all accessing you with curiosity and wariness.

He exhaled and kept his breath in his throat. This was no time to be afraid, no time for him to let his emotion waver. Hyunjin thought you were threatening, courtesy to your unfamiliar gadgets, but he thought you were reasonable. You wouldn't do anything drastic if no one attempted to attack you. All he needed to do was to lie about your identity and his ties to you. No other harm would come out of those lies aside from them being untruthful, like a moral bankruptcy.

The king breathed in deeply and curled his fists on his knee. He spoke with an authoritative voice, much like any distressed father. “Explain to me what you think you are doing.”

Hyunjin cleared his throat. His nervousness dripped through his tentative movements as he stepped forward without meeting his father’s eyes. His hands were raging with sweat, and he politely held them before his abdomen.

“There is a misunderstanding, Your Majesty. [Name] is a distant cousin of mine who is stopping by to visit me.”

The king sized you up from the comfort of his throne, then asked, “What is their relation to you?”

“First cousin once removed, Your Majesty.”

“How have I not met them before?”

Hyunjin tensed up next to you, his breath hitching in his throat and his hands fumbling with themselves as he tried his best not to glance nervously to your side. He thought that pulled you far enough away on the family tree to knock down any suspicion. That should be distant enough for his father to brush off this fake relationship! He wasn’t sure why his father would ask such a question when the king barely interacted with his cousins.

He couldn’t say that, though. That would be a mockery of his fatherhood.

The ball of anxiousness continued to bounce around in his head when you, after a short period of contemplation, stood up and looked at the king’s general direction. With your chest out, shoulders back, and hand gestures that clearly were here to help you feign nonchalance, you replied for Hyunjin, “It’s because I travel a lot.”

Your voice fell flat, and the room stood still in waiting. Eyes shaking from left to right, you briefly witnessed the gravely anticipating faces of Hyunjin’s brothers sitting on the side. You recognized that kind of expression. You’ve seen it on your classmates when you were standing like a brick at your desk while the teacher stared at you for the answer to a question on the board. You’ve made the same face before. It was the face of someone who knew you were in trouble, who knew how to get you out of it and was hoping telepathically that their frown would be a hint.

“What?” you muttered under your breath. “Was I not supposed to answer?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips into a frown as he discreetly stepped toward you. “He wasn’t asking you, was he?”

“Oh, I’m sorry?” you mocked, then glared. “I thought we were having a conversation.”

“Nobody walking on palace grounds can ever just have a conversation with His Majesty,” he hissed with daggers in his eyes. “You should know that much!”

“Well, color me surprised!” you slurred, your mocking tone unfading. Then, you gritted your teeth and hissed in return, “That sounds like a shit life!”

“Silence!” It could be the echos of this spacious room, but perhaps having a voice that matched the volume of a boombox was naturally programmed into a leader. The king stared you and Hyunjin down. “You dare dismiss my presence in the royal court?”

“No, Your Majesty! I beg you for forgiveness!” Hyunjin immediately went down on his knees into a bow before he stood up. Hastily, but never forgetting to avoid meeting his father’s eyes, he said, “My dear cousin is an avid traveler! They have traveled far and wide to lands I have never heard of! They learn of traditions and customs of so many foreign places that, at times, they forget their own.”

Your eye twitched in disagreement. It's not that his cover story wasn’t helpful; you merely found a bone to pick because he regarded his father’s dictatorship-like attitude as an aspect of tradition. You were no stranger to outdated traditional values, but that didn’t mean you ever accepted them. However, for the sake of your survival in this dynasty, at least before you figure out a peaceful way to return to the modern days, you complied.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” you said politely with a bow you figured would be sufficient in the context of Hyunjin’s excuse.

When you looked up, you awkwardly averted your gaze. You looked to the side of the king’s head but then carefully inched it back to make complete eye contact with him. You pursed your lips; a good king does not thrive when feared. Given that the kingdom hasn’t collapsed or wasn’t in the process, that should account for something. You might not have to be as afraid of him as Hyunjin asked you to be.

“I mean no disrespect when I look at you, Your Majesty,” you explained. “I just returned from traveling somewhere far away. The people there consider a lack of eye contact impolite when speaking to others. It shows that the listener is not paying attention to you.”

“Whether they pay attention or not can also be proven with questions. If you are not paying attention, you cannot answer my questions. Eye contact is not necessary in such scenarios.”

“That is fair, but would you?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Your time is precious, Your Majesty, as are your thoughts and the words you use to communicate them. I doubt that you have time to have leisure conversations, meaning that everything you say is an important detail needed to uplift the kingdom, which you are responsible for.

"Would you want to sit at your throne and ask, one by one, every day, all of your subordinates if they considered your words? Or would you rather know through something as trivial as a pair of eyes that they understand you?”

Hyunjin muttered prayers under his breath. He wasn’t sure if his heart could take any more of this emotional rollercoaster. After your dramatic speech, which was nothing but a bunch of crap put together on the spot, you discreetly exhaled and stepped closer to Hyunjin. You were surprised you managed to improvise so many words without stuttering once.

The prince cleared his throat. He dared not look at his father when he spoke, “Please believe in me, Your Majesty. They are a distant cousin of mine, and they have paused traveling to visit my family for a while. They will not be staying for a long time.”

The king stared at you both stoically before opening his mouth to speak. His voice remained loud and robust, but you could hear the lessening of alertness. He looked directly at you, initiating eye contact, and the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement, “I am curious. Where did you travel to?”

You hummed. Saying ‘Korea’ might be suspicious, as it was derived from ‘Goguryeo,’ but your mind blanked out all the names on a map as soon as you were asked the question.

“I traveled to–uhm–“ you slammed a fist to your palm–“America! Yeah, oh, good lord–“ you chuckled in relief–“the melting pot of cultures!”

Hyunjin pulled a face at your spontaneous behavior.

“It is an interesting place,” you said. “I would tell you all about it, Your Majesty, but I am beat! If you remember, kindly, I was thrown in a chamber.”

“For less than an hour,” Hyunjin quickly added for damage control as he circled his arm around yours.

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. You left out the fact that his father wrongfully threw you in prison but supposed that wasn’t cautious enough for him. “As if you people can accurately tell time.”

“Stop talking. Please,” he whispered before returning to his father. “If we could please be excused, Your Majesty. I believe my cousin should take a rest.”

The king sighed. For the first time, he had the demeanor of an exhausted father. Giving you two a wave of his hand, he dismissed you and everyone else in the royal court. Hyunjin felt his shoulders relax, and with a hasty display of gratitude, he tightened his arm around yours and dragged you to the doors.

The palace was huge. Bigger than your college campus, you wagered, but you’ve also never gone to all corners of your school so you didn’t know how big your school really was. You let Hyunjin drag you across the place, passing courtyards, stone pond bridges, and magnificent buildings until he stopped by an arch entrance. Inside was a building similar to those you’ve passed; you assumed this was his home inside the palace.

“That was unacceptable! You almost cost us our lives!” he said the second he turned around from slamming his room door shut.

You peeked over his shoulder at those thin doors. There were no glass windows at this time; to make up for that, people either went outside for air or used paper-thin materials to cover circular holes in buildings so air could easily travel through. If there were any conclusions you could draw from that, it’s that nowhere around here was reliably soundproof besides distance and a hushed tone.

“They’re not waiting outside, are they?” you muttered. When you were responded with silence, you looked away from the door and turned to Hyunjin. “I need to make sense of something, and I can’t have anyone listening in. Your subordinates cannot be standing outside the door.”

“They’re not going to eavesdrop on us,” he chuckled lowly in disbelief.

“It’s not eavesdropping, it’s listening,” you clarified. “People with ears cannot help but hear their surroundings.”

Hyunjin shook his head with a forced smile. “What can you possibly say that only I can know of?”

“You’ll know once you make them leave,” you said, mirroring his smile with intention.

“They’re not outside. I had them run some errands for me,” he said as he pulled a chair from under his desk. He plopped down on it and gestured for you to speak. “Now, what do you have to ask me?”

You eyed him suspiciously, but you relaxed once you settled with the fact that he has nothing to gain and everything to lose out of sabotaging you. Unloading your bag from your shoulder, you dropped it on the round table, forcing Hyunjin to make space for you.

Immediately, you pulled out your tablet and carelessly pulled another chair from under with your feet. Hyunjin clicked his tongue when you sat down without paying attention, his hands flying up in the air in case you fell.

“First question,” you said, “this is Goguryeo, right? You weren’t messing with me.”

Hyunjin nodded, his head moving as if he was stuttering. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Does Silla still exist?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Your father is King Taejo?”

“You just met him!” he exclaimed, leaning closer to look at the device you held. “What is this?”

“Forgive me for being meticulous. I needed to make sure,” you said mindlessly as you powered on your tablet.

There was much you had to do.

First, you needed to brush up on the historical events of Goguryeo, which would require that your history textbook from last semester was still in your downloads folder. You prayed that it was. It was vital that you understood where you were in history so you wouldn’t run ahead and reveal something you should not.

Second, you’ve got to figure out how you got here. Your plan so far was to carefully jot down what happened to you in the morning and check if anything was out of the ordinary. In terms of playing the confusing game of time traveling, you have a few tricks up your sleeves. Death may not be the only solution.

Third, which you need to do in case you fail at the second point—pick your allies and establish your enemies. Word has it that palace life was complicated. It sounded no more severe than a hardcore version of high school, only instead of the collapse of social status that would last about four years of your life, you would be met with public execution.

To survive the mouse traps and backstabbers, you needed to befriend those you knew succeeded and shun those who were wicked.

Hyunjin should be in the clear for now.

Gradually scooting uncomfortably close to you, the prince faintly leaned back in surprise when your tablet fully powered on and displayed your lock screen. His movement startled you, causing you to snap your head in his direction. When you found out how close his face was, you clicked your tongue and leaned away, brows furrowing and lips pulling into a frown.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“What is this?” Hyunjin asked, eyes trailing at the pixelated cartoon scenery of your lock screen.

“Oh, this–“

You cut yourself off quickly with a thoughtful pause. You were so absorbed in jotting down a mental to-do list that you forgot the technological state, or the lack thereof, in the Goguryeo dynasty. Hyunjin’s intrigue was expected and blameless; even people back in your time were probably surprised when such technological advancement first came out. Pursing your lips, you closed the distance between you two and moved your device closer for him.

“This is a tablet,” you responded, then sighed. That wouldn’t answer his question. He has no concept of a tablet. Clicking your password to bring up your home page, you added, “It’s a digital–“ he wouldn’t know what that meant either–“Um, it’s basically a library you can carry with you.”

He marveled in disbelief. “This has books in it?”

“Yes, and it has many other things,” you said. “It has games. It has canvases and paint,” you flipped aimlessly from page to page, “it has papers and pens. It has instruments. It has all kinds of things!”

He glanced down at the screen. “That’s not possible.”

“You don’t have to believe me,” you mused with a shrug.

“No! I do believe you!” Hyunjin exclaimed as he shot up straight. He blinked in the face of your confusion, likely regarding his sudden outburst, and then his shoulders slumped with calmness. His voice was more regulated, away from excitement, when he asked, “You aren’t from here, right? I wasn’t wrong about that?”

“No, you’re right. I’m not from here.” You shook your head without looking at him. The sweat gathering at your palm from anxiousness would have traveled to your fingers if he wasn’t distracting you from checking your download folder.

“Are you from that place?” He rolled his eyes up. “Um, what is it again? America?”

“Oh, sure,” you mumbled halfheartedly.

Your textbook was long gone, but you still have the essays you’ve written for the class. Some of the outside readings your professor assigned the class were also around, but you doubted they would be of much help, considering most of them were modern critiques of ancient history rather than detailed recordings of events.

Hyunjin noticed your shoulders slump in an attempt to heave a disappointed sigh, and he frowned.

He was entirely in the dark regarding your situation. The only thing he knew now was that you weren’t home, and wherever you came from was different than Goguryeo. Your fear for your survivability was innocently mistaken as homesickness. But, truthfully, Hyunjin wasn’t all wrong. You’ve been too busy to think about home, but once your surroundings quiet down, you will undoubtedly begin to miss everything.

“Hey,” he started softly, tapping your forearm. When you turned to him, he asked, “Can I touch it?”

You raised your brows in amusement. “Sure.”

It was quickly known that Hyunjin had no idea what to do with your tablet. He swiped his finger across the screen carefully, flipping through the pages like you did, but that was about all he knew to do. The colorful buttons on the screen meant nothing to him. They were not applications that brought him elsewhere in the small device. His ignorance cannot be helped. It was endearing. It reminded you of a child testing out a smartphone for the first time or an elderly unable to comprehend a computer's functions.

“Let me show you something cool,” you said as you adjusted the tablet closer to you. “This is a camera.”

“A camera?”

“You have portraits of yourself painted, right?” you asked, looking up at him.

Hyunjin nodded. “Yes, but only once. Only my father had it done more than once.”

“This is almost the same thing,” you said, perching your tablet and flipping to the front camera.

Hyunjin tilted his head, but when he saw a reflection of himself on the screen, he widened his eyes. You angled the camera to try and fit both of you in the frame and then pressed a button to pan out the lenses. He jolted in surprise at the movement; what he initially thought was a spotless mirror turned out to not be a mirror at all.

You laughed as you brushed your hair with your hand briefly, then you reached over to his face and tucked his long hair behind his hair. He gasped inwardly, his shoulders hunching up in surprise at your gentle movement.

“Okay, hold still and smile!” you mused, bumping the side of your head against this.

You quickly took several screenshots of the video recording, not giving Hyunjin any chances to prepare or pose. It took Hyunjin the fourth picture to finally smile up at the camera; the ones before were simply of him displaying complete confusion towards the idea of capturing a still image. Smiling down at the screen as you swiped the pictures, your brows slowly furrowed as your fingers moved across your screen in a back-and-forth motion several times.

A thoughtful hum fell from your lips. You zoomed onto him in one of the pictures and leaned back to get a better look, then you turned to him in real life, doing a mental compare and contrast. Your head went back and forth, eyes shifting from the picture to him, and your brows slowly relaxed as your face morphed with approval.

Hyunjin was unexpectedly good-looking, to the point you wanted to beat yourself up for realizing it just now. Although clearly, your expectations of ancient people have been skewed by hyper-realistic portraits of them that were drawn in the past. His hairstyle and his clothes were not to your taste, but his eyes were soft, his brows were shaped the way people have to achieve with makeup, and his lips were pink and full.

You thought if he cut his hair and wore something casual, he would fit in with people of your time without a hitch.

“No way,” you muttered under your breath before moving the hair that flails about the side of his face and sliding your hand under his side bangs. You nodded then, not even trying to hide that you were checking him out. “You would look good in a headband.”

Hyunjin felt uncontrollable heat creep up his cheeks upon your careless action. Touching his face and his hair as if you were married. He figured this must be normal where you came from, but it wasn’t how a relationship works in Goguryeo! Never mind him being a royalty, even though you’ve made it clear that wasn’t your concern. But he was too tensed up to pull himself away from your touch. This was new to him, and he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Hey, [Name],” he started, trying to divert your attention elsewhere. “How did you get here? Rumor has it that you suddenly appeared in the palace court.”

Your hand discreetly returned to your side. That was a million-dollar question. “I don’t know either.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin stared at you in disbelief before he shrugged. “That’s okay! It doesn’t matter anymore. The point is that you want to go home!”

“I am also figuring that out, too,” you sighed.

You remembered what happened before being spawned several years back, possibly in the most unfortunate location ever. You were heading to school and did your morning routine precisely as you’ve always done it. The only addition to that was you running into something and being forced to glance up at the blinding sun, which then caused you to lose your sight for a few seconds and your ears to muffle as if someone shot a rifle next to your face. You could recall everything, but that was it. There weren’t any connections for you to make to determine the trigger.

Hyunjin pouted when you shrugged, shaking your head with a tired hum. He wasn’t sure what you were worried about, but he wanted to help. “I can arrange a carriage for you if it’s far away. You can have a few escorts to be safe.”

“That’s not the problem, Hyunjin,” you said.

“What is?” he asked, trying to meet your eyes.

It became clear that the issue wasn’t telling him the truth but whether he would believe it and how you could begin proving that you weren’t lying.

“It’s not about where I’m from,” you said. “I’m not from this dynasty. My home won’t exist until a long time after Goguryeo."

“Oh no! You can’t say that here,” he whispered urgently, waving his hand at you with wide eyes. “That implies the death of the king. Those implications aren’t allowed anywhere in the kingdom!”

You frowned, a snort leaking through your nose despite your attempt to suppress it. “He is going to die regardless of what we say or don’t say. No one can live forever, Hyunjin. You should know that much.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips together, his shoulders slumping in defeat, when he finally concluded that you won’t be following the rules here as he wished you would. You had already disrespected the king enough to get yourself a trip back in the chambers with several bruises on your back! It was a miracle that you left the courtroom safe and sound.

He wasn’t as uptight about how you treated him. It was like an old friend, as if you were equal. If anything, he liked the casualness and agency. You chose to speak and act the way you do regardless of his status; you were in complete control of yourself. He admired it. He wanted to be as free as you. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid of what could happen to you if you cross the line. He wouldn’t be able to save you then.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Hyunjin pointed towards your side and asked something more light-hearted. “What are you going to do then? How will you go home?”

“Like I said, I’m figuring it out,” you sighed, closing your eyes in thought. “I just hope I won’t have to stay for too long. I can’t stand it here.”

He pressed his lips together. “It isn’t that bad here.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been here your whole life. You’re already used to this lifestyle.” You gestured around his dull room, at the bed without a mattress and the ceiling without lights. Pulling your lips downward, you hushed out a whimper, “Ugh, I wanna go online.”

Hyunjin fought back a grimace when he saw your defeated state. This felt like a stab to the heart. His home was all he’d known; despite the palace politics, he loved every aspect of it. He loved the outdoors, neighborhood, music, festivals, and food. It was, nevertheless, true that he has never been exposed to anything better than what he currently has.

Being told that your world was so much better to the point that being stuck in Goguryeo was unfortunate enough to bring tears was saddening.

He looked away at the far concrete wall, clearing his throat. “Look, Goguryeo isn’t that bad.”

You peeked at him. “Are you consoling me?”

“Yes, and myself,” he said. “I am also offering you an alternative view of my home.”

You pouted after huffing a chuckle. Perhaps you’ve been unknowingly harsh by focusing only on the loss, not the gain. However, you didn’t gain much besides having Hyunjin as a friend. Closing your tablet, you leaned your head on the table and exhaled to calm your nerves.

Hyunjin remained silent next to you, his presence tranquil and almost unnoticeable. If it wasn’t for his extravagant clothing, which forced you to feel his presence, you would have thought you were alone with your eyes closed.

“Thank you for saving me,” you muttered.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, staring off into a distance. “If it wasn’t me, one of my brothers would have helped you. Or someone out there would have done something for you. It must be hard to be so far away from home.”

You chuckled under your breath, nodding wordlessly instead of choosing to answer with your voice. This silent peace was something you didn’t want to disrupt. It gave you a chance to clear your head and to rest. It was what you needed after putting on a front and pushing aside the reality that had set itself before your eyes.

Hyunjin picked at his fingers as he looked down at you. He could take a good look at you near the chamber entrance, and he knew he wasn’t mistaken that you were pretty in unfamiliar ways. Your attire, your hairdo, and the way you carry yourself—he’s got an explanation for that now, but the truth remained: you’re pretty.

Rolling his eyes away to cease a newfound shock, he looked toward the doors to his room and down at his fingers. He took a few deep breaths silently.

“Hey, I can take you out to town tomorrow. I’ll show you around, get you familiar with this place,” he suggested. “We can have fun here, I promise.”

“Okay,” you replied without a second thought.

You felt the weight of your worries lift off your heavy heart gently, one by one, chunk by chunk. What more could you do? You were already here, and you would have to stay in the palace before you find yourself the gateway out of here.

Surviving meant understanding the ways of the world and networking, which is spoken like a proper career guide! Strengthening your friendship with Hyunjin could be a good thing, and who knows? Maybe he would prove you wrong. Maybe Goguryeo can be fun.

You found your neck aching the following day.

The wooden pillow wasn’t the best thing to lay your head on, you had realized that in the middle of the night after you tossed and turned around for a bit. You thought you could handle it but supposed that conclusion was only theoretical. Eventually, you replaced the pillow with your arm and a folded sweater. Still, the damage to your weak bone had already been done.

Rolling your head from side to side, you sniffed at the chilly, early morning cold. You couldn’t tell the time; your phone was likely incorrect. If you had to guess, you would say it was around when you would wake up for your one morning class. Your eyes were barely open as you stepped down the flight of stone stairs to the outside of the room Hyunjin had people prepare for you the night before.

Reaching into your schoolbag—you have decided to bring it everywhere—you stuck your hand into the small pocket and pulled out a few pieces of mint chocolate you selfishly took too many of at the front of a restaurant. You moaned in delight when you popped one in your mouth and tasted the melting chocolate on your tongue.

Nodding in approval, you played around with the pieces in your palm as you mindlessly looked ahead, staring at the architecture of Hyunjin’s home you didn’t get the chance to observe during the night.

His house was big, which made sense considering his royal status and his residence was inside a palace. The structure was not something you were used to seeing; you’d only occasionally noticed it when you passed by the public palace back in your days. An ironic sigh escaped your lips at the notion that what was once a humble abode not many could enter years later became an attraction that everyone roamed.

Your shoulders slumped when reality hit you again.

A bad night's sleep didn’t put you back to where you belong. This was really happening. You really did time travel.

“Good morning.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden appearance of Hyunjin’s voice. Pressing a quick hand to your chest, you stepped aside to find him looking at you with no trace of exhaustion or grogginess on his face. It was as if he woke up hours ago and did some morning exercise to clear a night’s sleep.

“You look chirpy,” you muttered before rolling your eyes, remembering how the morning went. Your eyes were wide open for a full minute after waking up. You really thought you could drive yourself to insanity with the company of what sounded like millions of birds arguing outside your room, shrieking at each other. “Just like those damn birds outside the window.”

“Oh yes, the birds are very loud in the morning. They wake us up.” He nodded, choosing to ignore your irritated tone. “Don’t you have birds back in your day?”

“We do, but I live in an apartment building. My home is all the way up in the sky. No birds are chirping at that height!” you said in annoyance, popping another mint chocolate into your mouth. “Besides, we have alarm clocks. We don’t need birds to wake us up.”

“Alarm clocks?” he raised a brow.

“Huh? Oh, yes, alarms,” you said between gentle chews. “You set a specific time you want to do anything, and it will remind you when the time is up.”

“How would the clock know what time it is?”

“I don’t know. I never looked that up.” You shrugged. “People just figured out how to make something that ticks every second, and it keeps track of the days and nights, kind of like how they figured out how to make just about everything else I have.”

No matter the direction he was judging from, there was no doubt that your world—or your time—was far more advanced and convenient than Goguryeo. Starting with the tiny gadget that seemed to have all the universe's functions, to your durable but seemingly unendurable schoolbag, and to the so-called alarm clock.

It made him wonder how disappointing it was that the subject of this unplanned time traveling turned out to be you and not him. He may feel less homesick in your world.

“What other things have your people invented?” he asked.

You hummed in faint amusement, although the separation of himself from you merely because of a thousand-year time leap was understandable. You decided not to comment and moved on with answering. Rolling the piece of chocolate in your hand, you smiled as an idea popped into your head.

You unpeeled a mint chocolate piece and held it to his mouth, urging him to eat it. Hyunjin showed a sign of reluctance at first, but seeing that you have been happily munching on the irregular-looking food, he supposed it should be fine. After he took the piece in his mouth, you placed the remaining pieces in your pocket and turned both of you towards the sky.

“I don’t know how alarm clocks are made, but I do know there is a way to tell time without one by using your hand,” you said, holding up one palm. “For the record, I am not liable for the method’s inaccuracy. But one palm is one hour, and the fingers are fifteen minutes. You just have to stack them up to count how long until the sun comes down.”

Hyunjin hummed, nodding without listening to you. The mint chocolate was melting deliciously on his tongue, and he was trying to savor the taste by gently sucking on the piece, but it was melting way too fast for him.

You turned to him, seeing his squinted eyes and moving lips, and immediately knew he liked the chocolate. You let your arms fall to your side as you chuckled. Then you snuck a hand inside your pocket. “Do you want more chocolate?”

Hyunjin looked at you briefly, his eyes unwavering as he gulped down the taste. He nodded, his eyes now round and childlike. “Yes, please. You have my gratitude.”

“How formal,” you joked with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

You opened your palm to display one piece of chocolate, and his eyes sparkled like never before. He quickly snatched it away and popped it into his mouth. Eyes widened just as his features scrunched into a grimace, and you threw yourself into a fit of giggle when he slowly spat the chocolate out onto his palm. The silver wrapping was wrinkled and soiled with saliva, for which Hyunjin showed his verbal distaste.

“You were too hasty,” you said, debating if you wanted to touch the wrapping to take it off for him. “You need to peel that off before you eat. Don’t you guys wrap your food?”

“We do!” he exclaimed, with the kind of annoyance one exuded only when being interrupted. “I’ll show you. Let’s head out to town. We can grab some food on the way, too.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “You did say you are going to show me around.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips together into a smirk of agreement. “I will just change into something plainer and grab a bag of gold, then we can head out,” he said casually. When he noticed the quick change in your expression, he stuttered, “What? What did I say?”

Your neutral face of contemplation slowly turned into a smile, a somewhat satisfied and somewhat envious smile.

For one, the fact that Hyunjin could grab a bag of gold whenever he wanted was the life you strive for in the future. Second, the fact that he was grabbing a bag of gold to bring you around town was rather attractive. You couldn’t believe it took you a time travel accident and a lot of confusion to finally have someone take you out and buy you a meal.

“You said something very good to me,” you said. “I can’t believe you would be the one to say it to me, but I will take whatever I can get.”

“What nice thing did I say?” Hyunjin pressed on when you started to walk ahead of him, even after you had chosen to ignore him the first few times.

You rolled your eyes at his persistence, hiding a playful smile behind your clenched jaw. Turning to him, you bashfully tilted your head to the side, “Hey, you know this is basically a date?”

“A date?”

“You don’t know that word?” You furrowed your brows; perhaps you thought the vocabulary richer than it was. “It’s when two people hang out with each other for a day, usually romantically, as if you are courting me.”

“Court–courting?” Hyunjin stuttered, his fingers finding each other quickly at the front.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him as he seemed to choke up a little. He had done this an awful lot since you met him. Whenever you did anything remotely boundary-breaking, like staring at him for a little longer than average or leaning just a little closer to listen to him talk, he would blush and act all ankle-twisting shy. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the social norms between people around here and your friendly antics were out of the ordinary or because Hyunjin liked you.

A crush, if you may.

You usually swatted away the latter since it made less sense than the first option.

“Yeah, but this is friendly, Hyunjin,” you confirmed, circling a finger between you and him. “Because we are friends, all things considered.”

Hyunjin slowly nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“What do you know, Hyunjin?”

You turned to the light-headed but stern voice that stepped in from the side. A man slowly made his way over with a smirk directed toward Hyunjin. When he approached and noticed your presence, his smile softened to appear stoic.

“Good morning, Minho,” Hyunjin greeted, bowing his head politely.

You cleared your throat and mirrored Hyunjin’s actions. Your haphazard greeting released in a hum so quiet it was barely audible, but Minho cared more about your blatant, curious stare than the lack of mandatory address of his royal status. He was not mistaken, though. You stared at him like he was an unknown specimen, letting his features sink in.

His hairstyle was different than Hyunjin’s. That was the most straightforward observation. His was tied up into a topknot, displaying his forehead and—you’ve got to admit—well-shaped eyebrows that made you feel just a little more self-conscious about your own. His eyes were sharp and alert, with only small flashes of casualness that you would completely miss if you weren’t paying attention.

“Who are you?” you asked him first, then you turned to Hyunjin. “Who is he?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat and nudged the side of your arm. He wasn’t as afraid of your ignorance as he was in front of the king. Actually, he wasn’t afraid at all, merely concerned. While his brothers were not cruel, among all seven of them, Minho was definitely one of the stricter ones when it came to upholding customs and the hierarchy. You wouldn’t get into fatal trouble, but Minho may not enjoy your presence, which would be a massive inconvenience during encounters like this.

You furrowed your brows upon Hyunjin’s physical response and nudged him back. “I’m just asking.”

“Well, don’t ask,” he retorted, as if exclaiming common sense. “I’ll tell you who everyone is.”

“What are you? My caretaker?”

“I basically am under these circumstances!”

Minho raised his brows after eyeing you two back and forth. The fact that Hyunjin was so occupied with you yesterday that he couldn’t attend the gathering of all his siblings contributed to the truthfulness of your claimed relationship.

But, still, a distant cousin showing up abruptly in clothing and belongings unseen by all was too suspicious to ignore. Seeing how you two bickered with each other, though, Minho thought himself too hasty to form that conclusion.

He rubbed his hands, which had been jointed behind his back throughout the morning walk, and asked, “What are you two arguing about?”

You two looked up at him, causing him to freeze in surprise.

Hyunjin cleared his throat again, which he’s been doing an awful lot since you dropped by. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off by a second. Gesturing to Minho by nudging your chin toward his direction, you arched your brows.

“You haven’t answered my question,” you said. “Who are you? You look like you could be a prince.”

“That’s because he is!” Hyunjin exclaimed with a clap. The boisterous smile on his face fell as soon as he turned his back on Minho to force your attention on him. His eye twitched, or he could have imagined it. “If you thought he was a prince, why would you still address him like that?”

“It was an assumption. I didn’t think he actually is one.” You shrugged, not paying attention to his anxious reaction. “Besides, aren’t you also a prince? You should be able to talk me out of trouble if I get in trouble.”

The eye contact he wordlessly maintained told that you stand to be corrected. A knot burned in his chest, traveling up his throat to turn a difficult explanation into ashes. He figured you would know the workings of a royal court and his abysmal status compared to his brothers, considering you came from the future. Perhaps you didn’t learn enough about the structure of a royal court, or you didn’t learn about him in general. Either way, Hyunjin was unwilling to explain the hierarchy of princes to you.

You noticed his expression and felt wronged that he was acting like you’d made the worst mistake known to man. Waving your hand dismissively, you muttered, “I am not supposed to talk to anyone the way I’ve been, Hyunjin. You think I don’t already know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered. “I would like you to follow our customs, if possible, for my sake.”

Guilt replaced the notion of you being wrongfully accused. Looking at his soft eyes, you figured you ought to take him more seriously, considering you’ve been living on his generous favor. Licking your lower lip and sighing, you nodded. “Okay, but for the record, I did listen to you when we were facing your father. I can read the room.”

He slowly smirked in relief. For the moment, you both forgot the presence of a third party standing not too far, observing the conversation.

“They call you by your name, Hyunjin,” Minho pointed out, his voice leveled and calm as it snapped you back to the present.

Hyunjin turned around to level his brother with surprise. He had been so drowned in the joy of such a basic level of intimacy that he forgot the palace wasn’t open to such forms of disrespect. Raising one shoulder into a half-hearted shrug, he furrowed his brows and smiled. “Yeah. Like I mentioned to Father, they have gotten used to the culture of–“

“America. I remember.”

You scowled when Hyunjin pursed his lips and shrunk his shoulders when interrupted. Pushing past to stand before him, one arm stretched before his figure defensively, you said, “We’re friends, so it is normal to call him by name. It doesn’t sound as estranged as how everyone treats each other here.”

Minho hummed stoically, and you thought he was surprised at the way you reacted to him, but it appeared to be something else.

“Friends?” he asked, “I thought you two were cousins.”

You cursed under your breath, turning your head to the side with a scrunched-up face at the simple mistake you made. Minho took the chance to move closer, perhaps to exude intimidation, but you didn’t catch him closing the gap until he was close before you. He leaned down, stopping when the tip of his nose was inches from yours.

Your breath hitched in your nose once you finally turned your attention back to him.

“What are you hiding?” Minho asked.

You pursed your lips, not letting yourself reflect the quivers of your heart.

“I’m not hiding anything, You Highness,” you said, maintaining eye contact with him. “I would also highly appreciate it if you don’t intrude into my personal space.”

Minho only displayed a moment of confusion towards your words before he regained his posture. He stepped back and cleared his throat, letting you have a breather. Hyunjin quickly pulled you behind him to grab Minho’s attention instead. His smile was careful when he looked at his older brother. His hands rubbed together anxiously due to the tense encounter between you and Minho.

“I’m sorry about my cousin. America is a very different place,” Hyunjin said, ignoring how you snorted behind him. “Anyway, I am about to head out to town with them to show them around, so if you will excuse us–”

“Let me come along,” Minho cut in casually. “I haven’t been out in a long time either.”

“I refuse!” you shouted immediately at the sound of the suggestion, grabbing onto Hyunjin’s outstretched arm that acted as a fence and peeking your head over to point at him with an angry grimace. “I’m not hanging out with a jerk like you!”

“[Name]! Please!”

“Just so you know, You Highness!” Your tongue has enough mockery to last Minho a decade. “In America, we let people finish their sentences!"

“You cut me off,” Hyunjin commented.

“What?” You paused so fast it was comical. Your legs ceased to kick, and you stopped pushing your weight onto Hyunjin’s arm as if to use it as a swing. Once your feet hit the ground, you looked up at him. “When?”

“All the time,” he replied as if you should have known that better than him. “You cut me off all the time.”

“What?” This one sounded more incredulous than the last. Dropping your arm to your side, you squinted at him in disbelief. “No way. I do not cut you off all the time.”

“I may be exaggerating,” he said, trying to cushion the impact of his previous accusation, “but the way you talk–your voice, I mean. It sounds like you are interrupting people all the time.”

You widened your eyes to show him your disbelief. Words got caught in your throat when you attempted to muster up a retort, and what came out was a string of incoherent, nasally noises of protest as you pulled several different faces of annoyance. He rolled his eyes at your dramatic reaction.

“And that is somehow my problem?” you exclaimed.

“I didn’t say it’s a problem. I said it as an observation.”

“Okay. You can observe me walk away.”

You did not manage one step before you were met with Minho standing in your way. You paused, looked up at the sky, and closed your eyes, feeling the lack of blessings from a lord you did not believe in, and you dropped your head back down with a pursed, calm smile.

“I forgot you were here,” you said before immediately adding, “Your Highness.”

Minho huffed out a mildly menacing laugh, but his voice might have been made harsher because he was still processing the abrupt change of conversation you and Hyunjin had made. He has a lot of questions, most of them about you and your identity, and unfortunately, none of those questions came from any form of positive interest in you.

Sucking on his teeth briefly, he smacked his lips and inhaled in preparation to keep you in the same spot for longer than desired by asking you questions.

“Why don’t you want me to hang out with you two?” he asked.

“You’re a jerk,” you replied curtly.

“But you don’t know me,” he said, “like I don’t know you.”

“Great! I am not interested in meeting new people so let’s all be on our way!”

“Now, hold on,” Minho furrowed his brows, “I thought America lets people finish what they have to say.”

You opened your mouth when you realized your words were being sent back to you the way you didn’t want them to, and then you closed it quickly when you felt your eyes tear up at the sudden wave of emotions. Exhausted from all the dodging and brainstorming you have been doing, all the while being confused and homesick with nobody to truly understand you.

Not only that, it came to you that you might have overreacted with Minh and left a bad impression. You couldn’t recall if he was an essential figure in the history of Goguryeo, but after making a point to yourself that you’ve got to carefully cultivate a network during this time, immediately failing to do so was a devastating failure. Your survival list was the only thing you thought was in your control, and your mind threw that stability away by refusing to enact it.

You breathed out a croak as you turned away from the two princes, pursing your lips and clenching your teeth to shut yourself up as your shoulders shuddered.

Hyunjin watched your back shiver. He didn’t know you were crying until you let out the uncontrollable, sympathy-inducing sound. His lips parted, but he couldn’t find the right words. What could he tell you anyway? He didn’t even know what you were upset about. Even if he did, what could he do when he knew nothing of your futuristic mindset?

Minho’s hands relaxed in surprise, and they brought themselves to the front of his body, where he began to fiddle his fingers in awkwardness. He never wanted to make you cry.

Hyunjin approached and reached to touch your shoulder, hoping to reassure you. You turned around when you felt his touch and stopped whining. Unpredictable hiccups were what was left of your minor meltdown. When you met eyes with him, you frowned. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“This is embarrassing,” you muttered, reaching for his hand blindly. “I’m hungry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, eyeing his brother, “let’s go eat.”

Minho looked away at the pointed glare Hyunjin sent him. He figured he ought to explain to Hyunjin that it was never his intention to make you cry; he thought you and him were merely engaged in a battle of stubbornness. Seeing you fall to tears because of how much you didn’t want him around was humiliating, but he understood the fault was on him and not you.

When Hyunjin walked past him, he didn’t follow.

The town in the morning was as hectic as you expected. All those montages of the main character walking among the hustle and bustle of the streets, eating steam buns, and playing around with vintage trinkets were ultimately scenes to be recreated unknowingly now that you’ve been inserted into the role of said main character. The only unrealistic thing was that it only took a one-minute montage of them laughing and looking around to get used to time-traveling.

However, you cared enough to admit that you weren't thinking about going home for roughly an hour of Hyunjin bringing you around to eat and check out old-fashioned entertainment. You actually took the chance to experience the welcoming atmosphere. Despite your unusual clothing and hairstyle, they didn’t seem to discriminate against you so much. They treated you well as they would their peers.

Besides that, another thing you took note of was that a simple clothing change was, as a matter of fact, enough to conceal a prince’s identity. It was unbelievable because Hyunjin looked practically the same as he was without a disguise, but no one seemed to have noticed. Or maybe they did, but they chose to not point it out out of courtesy.

The feeling in the buzzing town was much better than that of the cold, stoic palace where everyone was rigid and dull. You would much rather leave the palace if not for your developing friendship with Hyunjin and the many conveniences that came with it. You knew you were not ready to fight for shelter and food on your own in a foreign place; you didn’t want to do it back in your time, and you didn’t want to do it now.

“This,” you held up the steam bun that you took a big bite of, “this is great.”

“I would hope so. It’s your third one,” he said.

“If you had fed me in the palace, I wouldn’t be stuffing myself like this.”

He scoffed. “You know–I haven’t heard a single ounce of gratitude come out of you since the first steam bun.”

Your chewing stopped gradually as you recalled when you two left the palace gates.

He brought you into a shop first, or you dragged him in because you saw a familiar childhood toy. You recounted your experiences with him, telling him how you used to play outdoors with your friends before being introduced to a tablet. He marveled at the fact that you two share common knowledge across time. He had asked if you wanted the toy, and you refused it. It wasn’t something you’d play with anymore.

After, he walked inside a store that you assumed sold stationaries. There were parchment papers, pts of black ink, and lines of different-sized brushes. It was then that you got to hear about Hyunjin’s artistic endeavors.

One of his brothers excelled in instruments, another at poetry, and he excelled in painting. He had started off with landscapes before moving on to drawing portraits of people. You jokingly asked if he could draw a portrait of you, and he said he would consider it. You had snickered at the response; it appeared artists from across time hated that question.

Then, you stumbled upon a food stand selling rice cakes. That began your street cleaning, from rice cakes to chicken wings to steam buns. Unfortunately, Hyunjin was right. You haven’t said thank you once.

“Haha,” you grinned sheepishly, cheeks jutted out with chewed steam bun, “you’re the best, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin frowned, his eyes squinting. He debated, pointing out how you still hadn’t thanked him for paying for your food, but he blanked when you switched the steam bun over to your other hand so you could circle an arm around his.

He laughed, feeling an unknown relief erupting from his chest to replace all the worries that had bothered him this past day. When he glanced down at you, the top of your head impossibly close to his face, his pursed lips uncontrollably quirked into a smile.

He has finally gotten something, someone. For the first time, it felt like he was someone’s closest friend. For the first time, he wasn’t in his brothers’ shadow. Although you needed him to provide you with basic necessities, your demeanor around him was carefree and genuine enough that he believed you stayed with him mainly because you enjoyed his company.

It has to be, or else you would have tried to warm up to Minho more.

“Are you going to keep eating?” he asked.

You hummed lowly, pulling your head away from him and flashing a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s probably not what you’re thinking about. I don’t tend to have any ill intentions,” he sighed. “You’re so guarded. How do you live?”

“You are the last person I want to hear about being uptight from,” you muttered mindlessly as you folded the bag that was once filled with steam buns. “With the way everything works in the palace, I think it’ll do you well if you are more alert of the people around you.”

A momentary smirk appeared on his face, then he shook his head. “Who? Like the guards?”

��Like your brothers.”

Your arm slipped from his when he stopped walking. It took you a second to turn around, and when you met eyes with him, they were grim and questioning. It was expected; you weren’t paying attention when you told him to be guarded against his brothers, but you suspected it wouldn’t be the best advice to receive.

In all fairness, you haven’t studied your essays and readings enough to know if any of his brothers would end up being a tyrant. Your advice was general, created from many television dramas and minor historical facts.

Hyunjin’s upsetting expression made your stomach drop, though, even if your words were sound and reasonable. You assumed he loved his brothers dearly, and the notion that one of them would become the key to betrayal devastated him.

“What do you know?” he asked quietly when you neared. “Which one of my brothers?”

“I–“ you grimaced with sympathy, lips shivering lightly in uncertainly. His face was close, but you were too concerned with the topic to care. “I don’t know either, Hyunjin.”

“Then why did you say that?”

“It’s just a general statement. Cases of betrayal and backstabbing in the royal court happened across dynasties,” you explained, offering him a sympathetic smile and touching his jaw with your fingertips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you this much.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

His downturned mouth stretched even further at your apology. He didn’t think he needed to receive one, but it was kind that you offered one despite it burdening him. Wanting to ask you more about the issue (although you’ve already told him that you uttered a general statement), he thought better of it and held himself back.

Not only was he not interested in knowing a potentially disastrous future, not even with the advantage of preparing for it, but he wasn’t sure if he could truly change the course of history at his current standing. Asking you to research his and his brothers’ lives would depress him. His best bet was to go with the flow and hope for the best.

If he was to get in trouble, perhaps it was meant to be.

The sight of Minho loitering around the palace entrance when you and Hyunjin returned put an immediate frown on your face. He seemed to have noticed it from afar as he abruptly turned his body as if debating if he wanted to head back inside to avoid meeting you two.

“What is he doing here?” you scowled, your eyes unable to tear away from Minho’s rigid figure.

Alarm bells rang in Hyunjin’s ears. He wasn’t sure why his brother would coincidentally be by the palace gates when you two were finally returning home either. It could just be a coincidence. But, unfortunately, he would not put it past Minho to come all the way out for a belated confrontation after he thought through the negative interaction you two had. Your tears caught him off-guard, and now he’s back to finish you!

“I don’t know, but please, just let me handle this,” Hyunjin muttered through nervous teeth. “Do not say anything disrespectful.”

“Everything I say is disrespectful to you lots.”

“What did I just–“

“Okay, okay! I’ll let you handle it. Don’t worry,” you said with both hands up in surrender. As they fell to your sides, you scoffed to yourself. “It’s not like I want to talk to that asshole anyway.”

“[Name].”

“I’m shutting up.”

He retaliated against your elbowing to his side with a light slap, almost tripping on his feet as he stumbled forward to reach your arm when you hopped away from his friendly attack. You slowed your pace once you were nearing the palace gate, and your previously bright expression dulled into a monotonous trance. You got behind Hyunjin, using his shoulders as a shield, and showed on your face that you didn’t want anything to do with Minho.

“Hey, brother,” Hyunjin greeted with a wave.

Minho nodded in return, but Hyunjin could sense that his eyes were searching for someone else. A gulp slid down his throat nervously, and he smiled to cover up his suspicion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Um,” Minho cleared his throat and turned his body toward Hyunjin, “I would like to talk to your cousin.”

Your brows furrowed at his request. Peeking your head to the side of Hyunjin’s arm, you opened your mouth to release an obnoxious rejection and stopped before your—according to Hyunjin—interrupting voice could potentially send you back to the chambers for being hostile.

You eyed up at Hyunjin, bashfully inhaling at the twitch of his eye, and raised your brows to mellow out your displeasure.

“Please let Prince Minho know that I do not wish to speak with him,” you said.

He softened, the defeated exhale from his nose slightly blowing at your face. “Okay.”

Minho licked his lower lip when Hyunjin returned his attention to him. You two were whispering, but judging from the look on his brother’s face, there would be no conversation held at the palace gate as of now. His shoulders slumped invisibly, and he rubbed his hands behind his back. His anxious stance caught your eye, and you tilted your head curiously as to why he was fidgeting.

It couldn’t be possible that Prince Minho has developed a crush on you within minutes, could it? Something along the lines of how nobody has ever treated him with such nonchalance before! You snickered at the mere thought of that cliché possibility. You weren’t delusional enough for that.

“They don’t want to talk to you, I’m afraid,” Hyunjin said.

“What if I only wish to apologize for my misdemeanor?”

“Well, you should have started with that!” You shoved Hyunjin to the side and stepped up, folding your hands in front of your abdomen. A triumphant smile played on your face as you encouraged, “Go on then.”

“Arrogance shall take you nowhere.” Minho squinted his eyes in faint annoyance but immediately relaxed upon dropping the matter of your childish triumph. He swallowed a knot and habitually rolled his eyes.

“Your sudden appearance has been alarming. Even more so your strange relation to my brother and your knowledge of the world unknown to all. I made a hasty judgment of your character and intentions and acted upon my suspicion, which was not made better due to my–“ he tapped his feet to think–“unapproachable personality, I suppose. It was my fault. I did not wish to make you cry. I apologize for my transgression.”

The fact that his apology was genuine pissed you off. To see that there was a side of Minho that was honest and responsible meant that you, too, have made a hasty judgment of him that you felt compelled to apologize for because he did. Simultaneously, you were uncertain how to respond. It hadn’t been such a big deal to you; you practically forgot what happened the second your lips tasted the street food.

“Uhm,” you faked a cough and looked away, “I wouldn’t call it a transgression. It’s not like you committed a crime.”

“Then I apologize for my behavior.”

“I suppose I should apologize for how I acted as well.” You pursed your lips as you inhaled, deadpan surfacing in your eyes. Turning to him, you ducked your head into a slight bow. “I forgive you, and I’m sorry. We got off the wrong foot.”

“Thank you,” Minho said.

That was a turn of events. A turn for the better, Hyunjin reckoned! Being a mediator with no significant power was frightening, and your reckless behaviors haven’t helped him once.

He grinned when you spun around and approached him. The joy crumbled when you leaned closer to his ears and whispered your distaste about how Minho didn’t respond to your apology the way you wanted him to and how you shouldn’t have apologized if you had known he would only say ‘thank you.’

Hyunjin pulled away. The defeat in his eyes was hard to disguise. “You complain about everything.”

“Unfortunately, I find flaws in everything,” you excused with a shrug.

“There are flaws in everything. You don’t have to find it on purpose,” he muttered, raising his hand to flick your forehead. “Some of us just aren’t as whiny as you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, unsure if it was because he called you whiny or he assaulted your forehead. On second thought, you have never called Hyunjin out for going against you in almost everything! When you were butting heads with Minho, he called you out. When you were trying to have a good time in town, he was—ha!—complaining about your lack of gratitude. Now, he dares to say you're whiny? This prince’s a hypocrite!

In playful (also serious) retaliation, you gritted your teeth and smacked the top of his head from the side. Minho widened his eyes in surprise at what he would have thought to be hilarious. Forcing his feet to move, he sped-walk toward you and Hyunjin and, much to both of your surprise, yanked you away from Hyunjin and to his side instead.

You attempted to snatch your hand away, but he held onto you so tightly that you couldn’t help but believe something serious had happened.

Remembering your comment about having a personal bubble, Hyunjin was about to step up and confront his brother about intruding on your space again when Minho abruptly turned his head to glare at him.

He was taken back at first, but when Minho’s eyes began to dart between him and a faraway distance, he turned to see where the signal was being sent.

A girl dressed in luxurious fabrics with well-done hair decorated with a hat-like accessory inaccessible to ordinary folks was closing the distance. You raised your brows curiously at her appearance and possible status; then your curiosity grew when you saw Hyunjin visibly tense up at her presence.

“Greetings, Princess Deokhye,” Minho said, releasing your hand.

Your eyes widened in realization. A princess! Of course! If there were princes in the palace, there would also be princesses. You didn’t think she was significant enough, though, as you couldn’t recall hearing her name. But your knowledge of history was so limited that it shouldn’t act as a rubric on which historical figure made the most impact.

“Greetings to you as well,” she nodded slowly, “to all of you.”

She had a polite smile that you suspected was trained in her because you could tell she was displeased about something. She quickly confirmed your assumption when she turned to look at you with a questioning gaze.

Minho’s hands tensed beside you, seemingly aware of the princess’s temperament. You noticed it, and part of you wanted to applaud that a girl could make two princes pause in fear at a time when the only thing about her mattered was her father’s status.

A soft, awkward chuckle left your lips as you gave her a small wave. “Hi?”

“Hi?” Hyunjin mouthed. He looked almost angry. It would have sounded aggressive if he could repeat the word out loud.

Princess Deokhye’s smile widened in disbelief. She gracefully looked behind her shoulder at Hyunjin, who returned to his usual position. “Is this the cousin everyone has been talking about?”

“Yes. Here,” he marched over to you and stepped between the space of you and Minho, “this is [Name], my distant cousin. They are currently stopping by for a visit from traveling.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, pretending she hadn’t heard that from her lady-in-waiting. She had a faraway look in her eyes that made it seem as if she couldn’t see anybody else when she looked at Hyunjin again. “I see your cousin lacks basic manners, Prince Hyunjin.”

You grimaced. You would be the first person to admit your behavior has not been ideal, given the current setting. Hyunjin constantly reminded you of it with his fidgety hands and worrisome mind; Minho—well, being overdramatic aside, he didn’t have the personality that makes people want to be nice to him, which only doubled down on the fact that you’ve been childish since the moment you time traveled to Goguryeo. However, you have not done anything to Princess Deokhye besides uttering a simple greeting!

If a mere ‘hi’ was what she’s hung up about, then you’ve no intention of taking her seriously.

“They have been practicing the customs and cultures of other nations,” Hyunjin laughed, putting a shoulder on your hand, possibly to support himself, “sometimes–“

“But we are in Goguryeo,” she cut him off. “When you are in Goguryeo, you follow the customs here.”

You squinted your eyes, but not only in annoyance. There was recognition in those faint memories of the conversations you’ve had mainly over the internet, and you made a mental note to yourself that she’s one of those people.

“Do you people never let anyone finish their sentences?” you asked toward the general audience, but your eyes remained on the princess. “Or does it depend on who��s speaking?”

She did not back down from the challenge you posed. “That is an inconsequential–“

“You define that, why?” you interrupted her casually, although it was done with intention. She did not continue to speak over you, surprisingly. Whipping around to Minho, you signaled for his attention. “You outrank her.”

“I–“ he swallowed his stutter–“excuse me?”

“You outrank her in this palace?”

“All things considered, yes,” he replied.

“Good,” you said. “Do you think my questions were inconsequential?”

The corner of his lips twitched at the realization that you’ve dragged him into a petty feud.

Princess Deokhye has been known to be uptight. Still, besides that, she was also the king’s favorite child because she was his only daughter. Among the messy, nasty group of sons that existed only to continue the king’s legacy, Deokhye was a breath of fresh air—young, pretty, graceful, and more devoted to her father than his wives, who’ve been distracted with child-rearing.

Minho knew that, in terms of status, he outranked her because he was a son, and his mother was well-liked by the king. However, without his mother acting as damage control, a battle between him and Princess Deokhye would result in him losing if taken to the king.

Disagreeing with whatever you planned to ask him in the next second was the only way to mediate the situation, but that would give Princess Deokhye an opening to attack you, and she would. That was what she approached you for.

He had to divert attention, and he knew precisely the person to do this.

“If we are debating who should decide what is important or not, I am not the person,” Minho said. “Let’s take this to the crown prince.”

Hyunjin snapped his head over to glare at his brother. “What?”

“There seems to be a disagreement between [Name] and Deokhye where your cousin has fittingly pointed out that we are in no position to decide the outcome,” Minho elaborated. He bit back a smirk when you visibly rolled your eyes at his snarky remark directed toward you. “I don’t believe it is a matter suitable for the king to solve, so let us take it to the closest person we have to him–our oldest brother.”

“Minho, we cannot be bothering Chan about something as trivial as this.”

Hyunjin’s voice faded as you observed Deokhye, attempting to find meanings in her micro-movements. The fact that she did not once interrupt Minho despite him being a damn blabbermouth was not lost on you. She looked down at the ground and back up, her eyes shifting seamlessly between Hyunjin and Minho, skilfully taking you out of her vision. You noticed how much more relaxed she was when her eyes landed on Minho.

You could be delusional, but you’ve seen many phenomenal actors and actresses pretending to be in love. You’ve witnessed your classmates pine after each other too many times to let a change in the gaze, a flicker of the eyes, slip through your fingers. An airy gasp left your barely parted mouth, and you unconsciously turned your body toward Hyunjin to create an appropriate distance from Minho.

Hyunjin automatically placed his hands on your elbow, letting your shrunken body into a half embrace cluelessly. He chuckled, mistaking your nervousness to be from the mention of meeting the crown prince. But the problem that plagued you was that it was clear that Princess Deokhye felt romantic attraction toward Minho.

You weren’t sure if you should be frightened that she possibly saw you as a threat or be disapproving that they share the same father.

You thought the crown prince would be more menacing, but Chan acted like any regular twenty-something-year-old with heavy responsibilities shoved up his ass.

“Why did you three come to me about this?” he asked with a defeated sigh after Princess Deokhye left the room.

She left in disappointment as Chan gently reprimanded all of you for engaging in such an unnecessary quarrel, but you were sure she held back the stomps of her feet because she had to keep up her appearance.

The crown prince made the princess apologize to you for making a rude remark, and you admitted that you were wrong for instigating an argument, even in the name of defending yourself.

You were ready to stand your ground and refuse accountability, but the exhaustion in Chan’s voice and the pile of scattered papers on the desk he was pulled away from made you act otherwise. The crown prince’s got more tasks to fulfill than you expected; it looked like your desk during finals week, except you’ve only got your future to worry about while he’s got an kingdom of people.

“I was against the idea, brother. I promise you!” Hyunjin whined, and then he pointed at Minho. “He brought it up!”

“I have my reasons,” Minho said.

Chan raised a brow. He looked at you, his expression softening into politeness, and then he asked, “What about you? Were you part of this?”

Your jaw dropped as you made random, thoughtful noises to fill the air. Once you formulated an answer, you shrugged. “Like I said, I was defending myself. She shouldn’t come at me like that without knowing me.”

“Come at–what? What are you saying?”

“It’s a phrase.” You waved Hyunjin off.

“I almost forgot. You aren’t from Goguryeo,” Chan said after hearing the brief exchange.

“Um,” you paused, "actually, I am from here. I have traveled a lot since a young age, so it looks like I’m not.”

“And you are Hyunjin’s distant cousin.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “both literally and metaphorically.”

“How is it metaphorical?” Minho chimed in.

“Well, we’re distant cousins,” you muttered, turning to him. “We are also distanced by the sea and land.”

Hyunjin furrowed his brows. “They’re both literal.”

“Whose side are you on?” you retorted, blinking dramatically at him.

“Wow, they do look you in the eyes when they talk,” Chan commented. “Isn’t it bothersome to move your neck around so much?”

You had pulled that out of nowhere, but if it fascinated the people in Goguryeo, you’ve no complaints.

“Not really,” you replied.

“Oh.”

Eventually, there was nothing to talk about. Neither you nor Chan knew each other enough, nor were you both interested in each other enough to strike up a conversation. You understood his position as a crown prince, while he acknowledged your intellectual assets as a traveler. Both of you noted the advantages of being in each other’s good graces, but it wasn’t enough incentive to act friendly.

Besides, awkwardness was inevitable when it came to mutual friends, or in this case, distant relatives. There was nothing else to say, and the sudden emergence of silence proved that.

“Well, I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’ll get back to it,” Chan said. He flashed you a polite smile. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” You nodded.

“Minho, for next time, which I pray there would be none, please don’t bother me with matters as such,” he said before turning to Hyunjin. “And you–if you knew it was a bad idea, speak up. I know Princess Deokhye agreed to it, but you’ve got to consider everyone.”

That was interesting! You tilted your head at Chan’s comment, weaving your overthinking brain between the words and fishing out borderline delusional connotations. Moving your eyes up to glimpse at Hyunjin, then moving them down to look forward, you sucked in a thoughtful breath and pushed the tip of your tongue against your inner cheek.

You closed your mouth, letting out a low, stoic hum that caught everyone’s attention.

Hyunjin recognized that expression of yours. You’ve got nothing good to say whenever you look deep in thought. He slowly closed his eyes and sighed. “What is it now?”

You sucked your top front teeth and smiled. “Do you have a thing for Princess Deokhye?”

“No?” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t have anything to give her.”

“Ah, no–“ you scoffed–“Do you like her?”

Chan cleared his throat and turned away, inching back to his desk as he covered the amused smile with his sleeve. Minho heaved a sigh as if he wasn’t fond of the topic because of how overtly discussed it was. Watching their reaction, then back at Hyunjin, who avoided your eyes out of embarrassment, a knowing smile eased onto your cheeks.

“You do like her,” you hummed in a sing-song tone. “How interesting. I would not have figured out with how rigid you were–“ You paused, recalling the way he tensed up back then and realizing you’d mistaken it as fear. You breathed out softly at the information. “Never mind, I think I see it now.”

“What are you talking about!” he exclaimed. It was a rhetorical question. “Don’t be stupid!”

“You’re stupid,” you retaliated dismissively, a finger held up to shut his mouth as you stared at the ground. “But I have questions for you only you could answer.”

This wasn’t groundbreaking information, or at least it shouldn’t be. It felt like finding out which of your classmates harbored romantic feelings for each other and proceeding to make fun of them for the school year, but not precisely that scenario. You were concerned, so to say, because you’ve concluded that Princess Deokhye liked Minho.

And, of course, Hyunjin and Deokhye have the same father.

Some important things you learned about Goguryeo: marriage within the family was not taboo.

That was it, actually. That was the only thing you learned about Goguryeo, but the sheer shock made it feel like you’ve had to process hundreds of new information at once.

“Sorry if you think it’s weird,” Hyunjin said nonchalantly. “It’s been happening since forever.”

“I don’t think it’s weird. It is weird,” you emphasized after raising your head from his bed, which you were sprawled out on. “You guys are half-siblings!”

“Our mothers are different.”

“Hence, half-siblings.” You bounced up and pulled your legs to your chest, crossing them. “Please pay attention.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes from the table. He sat up, the chair scooting backward, and marched over to you. You struggled when he tried to pull you off his bed; he didn’t particularly care for its cleanliness. He only wanted to give you a hard time because you’ve been stomping on his fragile heart that was hung up on his childhood crush.

That was something you learned about Hyunjin. His feelings for Princess Deokhye grew at a young age, and—surprise! He already knew that she had her eyes set on Minho.

You had given yourself time to consider your words, which you weren’t sure should be comfort or advice. It wasn’t as if you were in any place to give relationship advice, anyway. You have never been in one before, and you’ve also never attempted to pursue anyone. Admiring from afar was your way to satisfying the need for a rich romantic life because it was the only thing you knew to do.

Perhaps your belittlement of his attraction toward a family member was also a distraction so you wouldn’t have to address the elephant in the room.

“What are you going to do?” you asked anyway.

Hyunjin stopped pulling your arms to get you off the bed. He needn't context to know what you were asking, and he knew he had no answers. He dropped your hands and sat down next to you, his eyes staring through the doors, and his shoulders slumped. You watched him, waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts as a man with an unrequited love.

“Nothing,” he eventually answered. “She doesn’t like me, and she isn’t going to marry me.”

Your lips quirked down. “That comes with her not liking you, yes.”

He clicked his tongue and glared at you. His pout was unconscious. “Can you be nice for one second?”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m not good at comforting people with romantic issues. I don’t know what to say.”

“Why? You’ve never liked anyone before?”

You jutted out your bottom light gently. There was not much you could tell him about that. Your attraction to real-life people was always so fleeting you never categorized them as a true attraction. Getting bored of people was a daily routine, and you would even switch your celebrity crushes periodically to avoid being stuck in one place. You have never fallen in love before. You didn’t think you were made for it.

“No, not really.” You shook your head before looking to him expectantly. “What’s it like?”

Hyunjin lowered his head. He anticipated formulating his answers in a way that would reveal true love in a warm, embracing light. It was how he saw it in all the songs, poems, and paintings—two halves of one heart, the strings of an instrument, a brush on a canvas, the world and its admirer. Love is when things are circular. In its birth, there is yearning; in its death, there will also be yearning.

But being in love with Princess Deokhye wasn’t like that.

“It’s…” his voice trailed off momentarily, “it was painful.”

His body had never felt more tense around her, and the adrenaline that got used to rushing up his head during his childhood days couldn’t distinguish him from the child he once was. He stuttered and stumbled, giving in to her every whim against his wishes. His body tricked him into thinking he was still enamored with her the way he did.

Her pining after his brothers for their status and power was a constant reminder that he wasn’t enough. Chan was the crown prince, Minho was calm and graceful, and he could detail a list longer than any book he’d ever read. He became skillful at pointing out his flaws; once he made those clear, there was no turning a blind eye to them.

His mother wasn’t the king’s favorite, which tarnished his spot in the hierarchy. He has no power in the palace despite being a prince, and Princess Deokhye knows that well. He wasn’t ashamed of his mother, but he used to be angry that she cost him the girl, and he thought he should be ashamed of that.

There was yearning. At some point, the yearning for her turned into a yearning for peace, to be away from the emotional turmoil.

You knew loving someone could be difficult, but you reckoned it should never be.

Gaze dropping low, you remained silent as Hyunjin’s tears fell, but you took his hands and laid your head on his shoulder. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he cried because it had been hard for him to go through the process or that he once again came to terms with the fact that his love would never be reciprocated. Only that he cried like a child never been held.

His body relaxed against your warmth, and his crying gradually slowed until there were no more tears to fall. He only now properly registered your intertwined hands. He could feel his palm pulsate against yours, beating like one half of a heart.

You chose to remain silent, but Hyunjin wouldn’t have minded if you talked him out of his emotional turmoil. You could always make him feel something else, be it joy or annoyance. You could always get more than a few words out of him, like plucking the string of an instrument, creating a guaranteed melody.

“Please say something,” he croaked between uncontrollable chuckles. The more he thought about what to say, the more he found it amusing. “You’ve never been so quiet before. This silence is alarming.”

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. “Do you want me to make a comment or provide emotional support?”

“Either way is fine. Just say something.”

“Okay.” You licked your lips. That was the worst kind of response. “I’m glad you two are never getting married because you have the same dad.”

“Again?” He furrowed his brows. “I don’t like it. Say something else.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry it’s not working out. I know she will come around and choose you soon. You’re a great person.”

“That–“ he scoffed, “You don’t even sound like you mean it.”

You shot up at his complaints. A bang sounded when your head crashed into his jaw. You fell back onto his bed, and he doubled over, both of you holding the sore spot that collided. But he was laughing, and you echoed it.

“What is your problem?” he accused playfully.

“What is your problem! Stop being indecisive and tell me what you want to hear!” you retorted in a holler.

When you saw that he was pressing his jaw, you laughed airily and released your palm from your head. You removed his hand and rubbed at the spot with your thumb, swiping it like a brush adding colors to a canvas. It was gentle, almost ticklish, and you were kind.

“You’re not bruising. Stop being dramatic.”

Kind, for the most part.

“How’s your head?” Hyunjin asked, amused. “It’s your fault it’s hurting.”

You pinched his jaw, the previously tender touch not even a memory. Ignoring his protests with a grin, you distracted yourself with an unnecessary sigh as you looked out the door to gauge the time of day. It should be nearing late afternoon, meaning dinner would soon be served. Rather than the palace cuisine, you wondered if you could talk Hyunjin into giving you a nightly tour of the town instead.

“When I leave this place, I’m going to write an essay about you so unimaginably bad that your reputation will be forever tarnished,” you threatened jokingly as you let go of his jaw. “Either that or I get called out for being historically inaccurate.”

Hyunjin rubbed his reddened skin. Treating a prince like that was brutal, but he would never call the guards on you. It was too late for that; you’ve established a friendship with him so refreshing and palpable that he couldn't imagine parting from you even though it’s only developed for two days. In fact, he hasn’t parted from you since he met you, and he recognized that he’s never been stuck with one individual for as long as he’s willingly been with you.

Rolling his eyes skyward, he thought other factors bound him to your side, such as your time-traveling situation, but your company was welcomed. Despite your argumentative nature, or perhaps because of it, his loneliness was quelled.

“Do people even know about me?” he asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” you said. “I’m the wrong person to ask. The only person I know here is your father.”

He nodded. He wasn’t expecting good news from you, anyway. He was in no position to change the world, and it wasn’t his goal. Judging by your dull reaction toward the people he’s brought you to meet, who he thought were the most remarkable people to have lived, he thought perhaps nobody was meant to be remembered in great detail.

He would remember you, though. He figured he ought to.

“Who cares?” You waved dismissively. “I know you, and I like you.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s not all about you.”

“I know,” you hummed. “What do you want to hear from me, then?”

His eyes softened. He thought he had already heard you say it, whatever it was that he wanted to hear after spilling his heart out. He lowered his eyes on his lap, at his hand that held yours a moment ago. Maybe it wasn’t about what you said that he needed.

Your presence, your speech, and even the annoyance you caused—illusionary constants, he’s drowned in them, and the feeling recoiling through his body from the lack of air was familiar.

It was developing too fast. It could not be. He knew this. He felt this before.

It was the same feeling he felt when he was younger and in love with Princess Deokhye.

You sat in the staff area of the courtroom, your lids dripping lower as you tried to listen to the king and the court advisors ramble about politics and foreign trades. Some of the issues you have never heard of, some you could surprisingly remember in vague details, and some you knew you’ve failed a test about. The only thing keeping you interested was quietly applying modern solutions to those problems.

Hyunjin noticed your boredom from across the room and differentiated your micro-expressions in response to the conversations.

Meekly rolling your eyes meant an argument being presented was bigoted and stupid; scrunching your nose with furrowed eyebrows meant you thought the suggestion was plain horrible; quirking a brow meant you were interested or was possibly in agreement; heaving a sigh meant you wanted to leave.

He counted that there were more eye rolls and deep sighs than anything else, meaning the court advisors were not doing good.

Like you, he hasn’t been paying attention to the court meeting. It was baffling that he was even mandated to join when the meeting only required the crown prince and, at most, his older brothers. He has never shown interest in politics. It wasn’t as if he could provide any strategic input. The most outrageous thing was that the king also invited you to join a few weeks ago with the excuse that the kingdom could do well with foreign knowledge.

You have never spoken in court once. Clearly, that’s a fraudulent reason.

“Your Majesty, I advise against starting a war, for we do not have the power to win.”

You sniffed, clueless at how they managed to move away from the topic of war and back to it repeatedly, only to still have no solution. History books did not tell you in detail how these court meetings happened, but you suspected they never came up with a sound solution, as Goguryeo was conquered by Silla with the help of China.

You raised your brows at the thought, suddenly realizing that you may have teleported to a time nearest to the beginning of the war.

“Oh, that’s not good,” you whispered to yourself. “I gotta get out of here.”

Supposedly, you whispered that to yourself. However, once your sight returned to you from the overdramatic sequences of pretend war flashbacks, the first person you saw was Hyunjin, whose grimace was wide-eyed and tight-lipped. Minho sat off to the front of him, tilting his head as if processing your secretive words. You pressed your teeth together to form an ugly smile before lowering your head so you could hide behind the back of a court staff sitting in front of you.

“[Name].” The king has gotten comfortable enough to address you directly by your name. You whimpered quietly; you’ve been here for too long.

You prayed that pressing your eyes together until you saw flashes would make the king forget you’ve spoken or rewind time so you could shut your mouth on your second chance. But that was wishful thinking; your magical abilities ended at the single-use-only time traveling. Sucking in a defeated sigh, you perked up and acknowledged the king with a forced smile.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“It appears you have something to add,” he said. “By all means, tell us what you think.”

“Oh no,” Hyunjin muttered, rubbing his forehead to rid himself of sweat.

He knew you hadn’t been paying attention and that you were ridiculously good at improvising thoughts of no value on the spot, courtesy of modern knowledge of history and other things.

The king has invited you to join court meetings discussing politics because he thought your inputs, whenever they may come, would contribute to the kingdom. Being called on by the king and not having anything to say was embarrassing. But having the king heed your unprofessional advice was worse. It could destroy the kingdom.

He rubbed his hands to gather himself. He didn’t think he would still have to defend you after you’ve adjusted and assimilated into Goguryeo. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Preparing to stand up and talk the king down from putting you in the spotlight, a hand reached behind and stopped before him, signaling for him to wait. Hyunjin looked to find Minho staring ahead at you, who stood up to speak.

“You guys are talking in circles,” you commented. “Someone points out an issue, someone suggests a solution, someone else vetos it, but the same person doesn’t have a better idea–“ you inhaled dramatically, throwing your head back and relaxing your neck to make your head roll about–“and we just keep going around the court with nothing new being said.”

The court advisors threw you dirty looks, but most have nothing to say. Namely, because you were, to them, still Hyunjin’s cousin. Besides, whatever argument they’ve got to discredit you has been dismissed by the king the first day he invited you to join court meetings. Insulting you without proper proof would be equivalent to insulting the king’s decision.

“Do you have any suggestions, then? Since you are so eager to insult our pace of work.”

You side-eyed the advisor. If he didn’t ask you, the king would have. You anticipated the question the moment the king called you on, so you have somewhat formulated a decent response. It wasn’t groundbreaking, but at least it would be new.

“Goguryeo is powerful, but not so much that it would be easy to ask another kingdom to join our forces to defeat another. Asking another monarch to start a war in which you cannot guarantee victory is always risky. The advantages of standing with Goguryeo do not outweigh those risks. With that, Baekje has no reason to join us and not Silla,” you rambled before glaring at an advisor.

"Invading a kingdom without guaranteeing victory, or even attempting to assassinate another monarch will not garner positive results. That is amateur. It is stupid.

“You want to form an alliance and strengthen your borders? To elevate your army? Give Baekje something that Silla cannot provide.”

“That would be?”

“Do I have to tell you everything?” You spun to face the advisor with a grimace. “Resources, money, and troops are valid offerings.”

“Baekje does not lack those any more than we can provide them!”

“It’s not about whether they lack those resources. The point is to strengthen what they have,” you said. “They have troops, so let’s add more troops. They have money. We can provide them with more.”

He scoffed. “How do you suppose we get them to trust that we will deliver what is promised to them, given that they form an alliance with us?”

“What are you even–“ You shook your head in disbelief, your voice gradually decreasing in volume. “Is the monarch of Goguryeo untrustworthy?”

Soft gasps littered across the room. Hyunjin grimaced before lowering his head to his hands, exhaling quiet prayers into thin air. You were doing well. He was shocked the hear you response to the king’s question as your advice was sound and plausible, and then you went ahead and insult his title.

You closed your eyes. No wonder nobody gets anything done in the courtroom. Everyone’s been stepping on eggshells around the king. If the king is an idiot, the whole kingdom reflects the idiocy.

“Your Majesty,” you called, “are you not to be trusted?”

He stared at you for a prolonged minute. The silence in the courtroom felt suffocating for that duration, and his intense eyes made it feel as if he planned to throw you into the chambers. But instead of announcing a punishment, he barely shifted on his seat and replied, his voice low. “No. I am someone who keeps my word.”

“Good,” you said, nodding in approval. “Figure out what you can offer, write a contract, and select a representative to travel to Baekje to propose your request for an alliance.”

“I will discuss this further,” the king announced after a thoughtful silence, letting the corner-sized commotion drown out. He peered at the rest of the court. “For now, everyone is dismissed.”

Strings of protests from court advisors gradually rose, with their defense being that you knew little to nothing about Goguryeo and its politics. You would agree that the king should not take value in the words coming from a stranger, but you understood that wasn’t the place the advisors were coming from.

You were simply not liked in the palace because of your differences, and you have nothing to say about that. Their refusal to get used to your presence after so long was not your problem.

Hyunjin met you outside the room after you brushed past everyone leaving their seats and bolted out the door. His brothers flashed amused smiles when he met eyes with them, already knowing he would be late for their mandatory daily hangout after court meetings.

When you saw him turn a corner into the wall you’d hidden yourself behind, you immediately lunged at him and clung onto his arm. Barfing noises released from your mouth, and possibly even the pit of your stomach, and your face morphed with distress.

All the confidence you had when you spoke in front of everyone was long gone; you never knew where it came from in the first place.

Hyunjin chuckled faintly at your sorry state and hoisted you up by your waist, keeping you steady as he accompanied you to a bench in one of the backyards in the palace.

“That was bad. That was terrible,” you said with wide, angry eyes. “You need to talk to your dad. Tell him to forget everything I said and listen to his advisors.”

He pressed on your shoulder to sit you down on the bench. “Why? I thought your idea was great. It made sense.”

There was truth in that. There has to be. The solution to form an alliance with quid pro quo wasn’t an idea you figured out on the spot. Even Goguryeo has experience dealing with foreign issues through means of fair trade even before you stood up in the courtroom and suggested it. Your solution made sense because it’s worked well since the concept was invented. But that wasn’t your concern.

“It’s not that, Hyunjin,” you muttered, leaning your head into your hands. “I just realized it’s a much bigger issue than I could remember.”

If your timing was correct, the king and his advisors were discussing how to prevent the eventual fall of Goguryeo after it was conquered by Silla, which would mark an important event in the unification of Korea in the future.

The reason why Korea became the nation you knew was because Silla conquered Goguryeo and Baekje. If, somehow, the king decided to push for Goguryeo and Baekje to form an alliance, causing Silla’s attempt to subjugate both Kingdoms to fail, it could drastically change the future.

“Maybe I’m overthinking. I’m probably overthinking it,” you mused suddenly as you straightened your back, startling Hyunjin. “Yeah. Yeah? Yeah! I’m overthinking this! I don’t know what’s going to happen! I’m not going to cause the downfall of Korea. I’m not a villain.”

Hyunjin eyed you carefully, not sure what to do. “[Name], are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay!”

Hyunjin leaned away from your dry, hoarse scream of terror, a sound of pure disgust slipping past his lips at your hysterically widened eyes. You caught onto his quickly recovered distaste like a hawk catching a glimpse of its running prey. When he noticed your eye twitch, he discreetly shifted away from you on the bench, almost falling off the edge.

That was not new, but your twitchy-eyed, clearly annoyed expression never failed to scare him, literally and metaphorically.

Besides the presence of your frustration, whenever your expression begins to morph into that borderline psychopathic gleam, Hyunjin was safe to assume you’re about to do something frowned upon.

After spending so much time with you, he (and possibly Minho) discovered that everything in Goguryeo gets on your nerves. A man being married to multiple women pissed you off; a parent reprimanding their child in public made you act out and almost blow his cover; Minho’s mere existence seemed to tick you off, but Hyunjin supposed that was personal.

He pushed himself back to the center of the bench. At the same time, you huffed audibly, your shoulders falling into a dramatic slump, and then you turned away from him to stare at the line of rocks creating a path.

“Don’t ask me anything in detail,” you said. “I don’t want to tell you what happens in the future.”

You meant well, but the fact that you had to make that point clearly indicated that something terrible would happen. He wouldn’t have asked you about it, though. He would rather suffer when the time comes than be anxious about events he likely cannot change.

“Generally speaking, then,” Hyunjin started, “what are you fussing over?”

You pressed your elbows to your knee to support your head with your palms.

The downfall of Goguryeo wasn’t as big an issue to you. You existence could not be guaranteed if you discreetly saved Goguryeo now, but it mattered less than how it could potentially affect Hyunjin’s life. Information about him was nowhere to be found in your notes, so you couldn’t begin to figure out how to prevent an untimely death.

The easiest path for you to take was to make sure Goguryeo won’t fall to its knees before Silla, but that begged whether it is ethical to change history.

Hyunjin raised a brow when he noticed you peeking at him. He always looked innocent, not a version of naivety, only that he had no malice. Your skin was worn beyond your years from surviving the hopeless economy of your time, so standing next to him sometimes made you feel like an ogre.

He would throw a fit if he heard you talk about yourself like that. The first tantrum you’ve ever seen him throw started because you were downplaying your accomplishments in the future. Years of public education, testing into a university, and joining multiple extracurricular activities. He didn’t understand how irrelevant hard work would soon become on the road to true success. He only knew that you knew how to do so many more things he couldn’t imagine learning.

On second thought, his innocence did constitute naivety, but you enjoyed that about him.

“I’m worried about the future, that’s all,” you replied. “My future.”

“America?”

“Yes–uh–no?” You raised a brow. Now didn’t seem like the time to explain that you’ve been lying about where you came from. “I’m talking about Korea, which is what, um, Goguryeo becomes in the future. We’re all somewhat related to each other in my time.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised, and that reaction wouldn’t be inaccurate.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I’m thinking about how it lead up to that point. The war and alliances and everything.”

“Do we never ally with Baekje? Even during times like this?” Hyunjin asked.

It wasn’t to your knowledge that any alliance was established, but you suspected that if there was one, Silla would not have been able to subjugate both Kingdoms unless they had chosen to assassinate the current monarchs. Even then, though, a kingdom would not fall at their king’s death if he had a son, and Chan wasn’t young enough to be an easy target.

You were unsure about Baekje’s situation, but judging by the court advisor’s idea to assassinate Baekje’s monarch, you assumed their crown prince must be young enough to be manipulated.

“No, I don’t think you guys tried to ally with any kingdom.” You shook your head and rubbed your chin, staring at the floor. “But why? Why didn’t Goguyryeo?”

Was the kingdom overconfident in its ability to fight? Perhaps, but that couldn’t be the case. The king was already talking about the issue regarding Silla. He hasn’t put an order in place to execute precautions besides the suggestion you provided yet, but clearly, he wasn’t ignoring the situation. Could it be that he attempted but failed? The king heeded the advisor’s advice and sent an assassin to kill the king of Baekje, leaving his son in charge. Instead of overruling the kingdom, Goguryeo decided to ask for an alliance.

“Ugh… no.” You pulled a face at the ridiculous assumption. If you were a king, you would have overruled a kingdom without a stable monarch the first chance you got.

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin asked, poking the side of your cheek after he lowered his face to your level.

You averted your eyes to look at him. Your shadows were big enough to bump heads on the floor, and the sun couldn’t bother you as much when you lowered your head like this. Removing your hands from your face, you pressed them to your chest, sandwiching them between your thighs, and you shrugged at him with a smirk. The real issue was convoluted. You didn’t wish to bother anyone with it.

“I’m thinking about home,” you said.

“I see.” He shifted, or swayed gently with his torso. “You’ve never told me about that before.”

You tilted your head. “I’ve talked to you about Kore–America before.”

“No, not the place,” he clarified. “What are you like there? You told me about all these things, but I’ve never heard stories of your experiences with them.”

He was surprised that you didn’t overshare with him; at the same time, he couldn’t believe he had never asked you more about yourself. What you told him about the future took longer to process than anticipated.

Everything felt impossible, borderline a fantasy—carriages that move on gas and electricity, a light source without a candle or the sun, machines that can manually change a room’s temperature. Even when you have proof of their existence, he sometimes wondered if you spoke only to get a reaction out of him.

You licked the corner of your lips in thought before sitting back up. He followed, his body turning to face you in anticipation.

“I go to school,” you said.

“I knew that already.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes and smacked your lips. You weren’t selective about what you wanted to tell him. You just weren’t sure what would be interesting. “I live alone, which is quite an accomplishment because we don’t have rent control. I work late at night on weekdays because I have most of my classes in the morning.”

“Do you have friends back there?” he asked.

You tilted your head with furrowed brows. “Are you looking for gossip?”

“No,” he said. “I’m just curious.”

“That’s exactly what someone looking to hear gossip would say,” you said.

“Fine, then I am looking for gossip.”

You nudged his side with your elbow, your lips pursing into a dissatisfied line. Rolling your eyes away from his face, you inhaled deeply to remember your life in the future.

You haven’t forgotten anything; it would have been difficult to even if you tried because of how frequently you made comparisons between Goguryeo and Korea. Mainly the difference in technological advancement. You haven’t had to do so many things manually in a while—cooking without a microwave, bathing without a shower head, and lord forbid you wanted a refreshing cup of ice water.

“I have a few friends there. We were supposed to hang out after midterms,” you said, lowering your gaze to the floor. “We always hangout after exams are finished. We would go out for lunch first, and then sometimes we will hang out at one of our homes, or we go out for karaoke.”

“That sounds fun,” he hummed.

“How would you know? You’ve never heard of karaoke,” you retorted with a mildly condescending tone, which he was used to.

He rolled his eyes and pulled away from you, folding his arms over his chest with a scowl. “Would you rather I say I think that’d be boring? Huh? Oh, you go out for karaoke–that sounds dumb!”

You laughed in his face, leaving quiet curses behind as you turned away from his short-lived tantrum. You were planning to explain to him what karaoke is, but pettiness ordered you to leave that off the table until the topic’s revisit. The tension in your shoulders faded slowly upon the end of your also short-lived banter, and you sighed up at the sky once your mind began to plague itself with memories of the modern days.

“I wonder where I am,” you said.

“What do you mean?” he muttered, letting go of his crossed arms and scooting back closer to you. “Like, where your body is? In the future?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “There have never been real accounts of time traveling, so I’m not sure what happened outside of me being here. My body could have fainted where I was when I came here, but I hope that’s not the case. I hope I’ve just gone missing.”

You have a theory about your whereabouts in the future, which was the latter. You’ve likely just gone missing, considering you didn’t switch bodies with someone in the past. The only way for your body to lack an occupant in the future and for you to exist in Goguryeo would probably have to be that you were dreaming. You didn’t think you could exist in two different times at once, even if your body was dormant in one of those times.

The hypothesis that you were in a dream was plenty plausible. Given that there have been no real accounts of anyone's time traveling, it could be one or two things.

One, people realized their experience was only a dream. You were suspicious of that, as people would usually talk about uncannily vivid dreams like the one you could be experiencing. Yet, you’ve heard rarely heard of any. That left the second point: nobody remembered. You time travel, live a whole life in the past, wake up with very few traces of it, and chalk it up to the science of people forgetting their dreams.

You looked at Hyunjin, your eyes dimming almost sorrowfully.

It didn’t make sense. Your instincts screamed otherwise. If everything was only a dream, your immediate and genuine concern about changing the future through fixing the past would be ridiculous. You have also never met or brushed past anyone who looked like Hyunjin back in the future. Your brain can only build from things you know. Your mind couldn’t come up with him from scratch.

“You’re real, right?” you asked suddenly. “How do you feel? Do you feel real?”

“What–“ He giggled under his breath. “Yeah, I feel real. I’m me. Do I feel real to you?”

You squinted your eyes playfully before pulling your lips into a dramatic grimace. Your shoulders were hunched up as you shook your head in faux doubt, but the immediate laugher told him that you were fooling around. He groaned, but he wasn’t annoyed, just used to it. He pinched your cheeks hard enough it stretched your skin and stung. You retaliated by mirroring his movement, pulling at his face hard enough that it stretched his skin and stung.

“Stop it!” he yelled.

“You first!”

He let go and slapped his palms to your face, almost knocking you awake from this childish catfight. He smirked in triumph when you widened your eyes in shock at the pain.

“The pain is real, isn’t it?” he said, his voice airy for whatever reason. “I’m real, [Name]. We both are.”

You quieted down. You weren’t talking in the first place, but the air around you depleted the second you calmed. His skin was mellow against your palm, his face solid in your hands. He was always there when you looked, almost like a ghost who could travel at the speed of light, or perhaps you two were simply never apart from each other. It has been weeks, almost two months, and you’ve never felt he was unreal in any capacity. Your instincts screamed so.

Hyunjin was real. He felt so.

You were afraid of that.

“I hope I don’t forget you when I leave.”

You smiled at him and didn’t say anything.

The order for you to travel to Baekje as Goguryeo’s representative for negotiation made you visibly gag in the courtroom.

“What was that?” Minho whispered behind him, and when he turned around, he was once again met with Hyunjin muttering prayers with his head in his hands. He twisted his waist further toward his brother and smacked the side of his head. “Can you calm down?”

Hyunjin perked up at the pain that subsided quickly and wasn’t able to serve as a good enough distraction to the anxiety-inducing offer—order—his father gave you. He glared at Minho briefly as retaliation because his hands were occupied with cupping his head. Then his eyes shifted to find you looking back at him from across the courtroom.

Your lid twitched, which usually meant annoyance, but this time, it doubled as a cry for help. He sucked in a deep breath; he wasn’t sure if he could.

The impending war was too important for his father to neglect. Whatever trifling reason he or you could come up with to deny the king’s demand would fall on deaf ears. But he didn’t understand why you were chosen and was sure you couldn’t either. It took the palace a while to understand your peculiar circumstance, which was already modified to omit the truth.

What made his father think Baekje would listen to a traveler immediately instead of a court advisor?

“Is this a request I can turn down, Your Majesty?” you asked.

The king hummed. “Do you have good reasons to?”

“I do,” you replied.

“Then it is not a request you can deny.”

“You think you’re so funny,” you whispered after a heavy sigh, looking away to concentrate on swallowing a choked-up breath. At the same time, the pit of your stomach churned like you’ve got food poisoning. “What have you got, then?”

The king signaled toward a court advisor in the crowd. The man hastily stood up, bowed at the throne, and turned to you with a rough clear of his throat.

“After careful consideration, the king has decided to–“

The doors slammed open. You spun around to find Princess Deokhye stomping with her lady in waiting nervously scrambling behind her.

“How could you, father!” she exclaimed, almost tearfully. She swatted away her lady-in-waiting, who rushed to her side immediately after she stopped walking to urge her to cease her tantrum. Her body conveniently moved to face your side of the courtroom, and when she met eyes with you, she scowled, shifting the blame from her father to you.

She stomped toward you, the jewelry pieces in her hair threatening to fall off her mad head. “You! You insolent, good-for-nothing scum of the Earth!”

“What did I do now?” You stepped back and held your arms up in surrender once she was near enough for you to feel her breath on your face. Flipping a side of your face away from her, you muttered, “This has to be a gross misunderstanding.”

“Was it not you who suggested forming an alliance with Baekje?” she accused, stepping closer to you the more you backtracked. “Did you not put the idea of marrying me off to a crown prince? To use my marriage as a catalyst for our Kingdoms’ union!”

You snapped your head toward the king. He chose not to see his daughter when he spoke, “We have decided to marry Princess Deokhye to the crown prince of Baekje. Once we have that familial tie, our alliance would be guaranteed.”

Your jaw dropped, as did most of those present in the courtroom. A diplomatic marriage was not your intention when you suggested using an offering to strengthen the union between Goguryeo and Baekje, but the king was wise to insert marriage into his strategy. It was unfortunate that Goguryeo had no other princess but Deokhye, and it would be illogical to present a son, as one could not marry a son off, only a daughter.

Averting your gaze from the distressed princess, you briefly brushed past the king’s face before looking behind Deokhye’s shoulder at Hyunjin. He had sat up straighter, his focus dumped entirely on you and the princess. The bridge of his nose, the space between his brows leading down to the tip of his nose, was faintly scrunched. He looked like he was thinking, processing what Princess Deokhye accused you of. When you caught his eyes, your fingers curled uncontrollably into a flinch.

How could you forget how he felt about her? You wanted to deny her accusation. You refused to be the person who seals his chance with Deokhye after he poured his heart out to you about how he felt. It simply could not be you. Swallowing hard, you inwardly shook off the shivers. He was present in the courtroom when you gave the council the idea. He even told you he thought it was logical and sensible. He knew you didn’t cause this. But why? Why did he look so upset?

“I did suggest forming an alliance with Baekje through offering something in return, but I did not directly suggest a diplomatic marriage. That was a decision made without my presence,” you said. “I made a point that the resource offered needn’t be unique or human. It only has to strengthen.”

“I did not choose this.” You held her gaze to not challenge her but give her the truth. “We have our grievances, but I will never do that to you.”

“But it is already done. My fate is sealed,” she argued after a short moment. Her eyes glimmered with tears, seemingly more frustrated after hearing your sincerity. “All because you decided to tell His Majesty that we needed help for a war that may not even happen!”

You wanted to tell her that it would. It would happen, and Goguryeo would fall, and her fate as a woman in a fallen kingdom where her father is no longer respectable would arguably be worse than being married off to a crown prince. You wanted to tell her that she has no perception of current political conflicts because she was not allowed to be involved. Therefore, she would have never known how possible the approach of a war was. You wanted to tell her that her father was already considering forming an alliance prior to your suggestion.

But her sorrow was understandable. You believed in the immorality of both an arranged marriage and being a bad father, but neither of those was her perspective of the hand she was dealt with, which you also understood.

You saw this situation as an outsider; you believed people should marry who they love and a father should never play their children as pawns. Princess Deokhye saw this as the end of her life; she could no longer be with the man she wanted, and her father had abandoned her for his kingdom.

“What–what are you doing?” she huffed in distaste when you took her delicate hand and brought her to the middle of the courtroom. She snatched herself away with a grimace, rubbing her skin on her dress. “Don’t touch me.”

“Your Majesty,” you called, looking up with Princess Deokhye standing awkwardly by your side. “I would like to object to your decision to marry Princess Deokhye to the Crown Prince of Baekje.”

Gasps littered the room. You seemed to be the star of the show a lot recently.

“How dare you! Haven’t you said enough, outsider!”

“Father–I mean–Your Majesty!” Hyunjin shot up from his seat, attempting to step past his brothers to stand before you and reword your sentence. “Your Majesty, please–“

“You have gone against me every step I take, [Name],” the king began, then he slowly smirked. “Surprisingly, I have yet to hear you utter a single thoughtless point. So, if you may, what do you suggest?”

You stopped breathing. A good king does not thrive when feared. A good king listens and considers.

King Taejo is a good king.

You smiled at Princess Deokhye. For once, she did not scowl. She stared at you with her round, wide eyes. Her hands curled uncomfortably to her side, never having anyone stand up for her before His Majesty before. She almost wanted to stop you, knowing what kind of death sentence you were welcomed into your arms, but she didn’t. Like a child, she waited patiently for you to save her the way her older brothers were unable to, the way her mother was unwilling to.

Apologizing for your lack of malicious intent when the results reflected how it would have been if you did have ill intentions was tone-deaf. As she said, her fate was sealed. You were not the decision maker, but this was partially your fault. Your suggestion led to this—

“A diplomatic marriage is certainly a choice, but what if you offer Baekje knowledge never once encountered? Knowledge from beyond this land and the oceans?” you mused, taking a deep breath and smiling. “What if you offer me instead?

—so you would take accountability for it.

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