#hatred has no place in politics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuuberryy · 6 months ago

Text

prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

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sweetinsaniiity · 6 months ago

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Hail To The King

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - king!yunho x ex-princess!reader ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - 18+, historical au, angst, bone-deep hatred, revenge, imprisonment, enemies-to-lovers, she-fell-first-but-he-fell-harder, prisoner of war, slice of life, slow burn, politics, time lapses, path to healing, redemption, cliché ending, smut towards the end (fingering, face-sitting, mentions of daddy, softdom!Yunho, doggy, missionary, creampie, no protection {don’t do this!!!})◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, stealing kisses, mentions of violence (but definitely NOT described), Y/N gets hurt and it might be triggering to some because !knife was used (ML saves you) ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 28K+ (SHEESH) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - You are the ex-princess of a fallen kingdom whose king, your father, ruined everybody's lives and is now taken over by neighbouring kingdom. Their king, Jeong Yunho has taken you captive to get even and he is determined to break you until you are nothing more than a shell of your previous status as a princess.◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - I'm back after a month! This was longer than I thought but it was needed. More notes towards the end (very important!) Title from Avenged Sevenfold. ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @ginger-mingi @0rangemilk

I slowly put my head down in defeat and put on a cynical smile. The sky looked good today, a little too good, as if it was mocking me with how it expanded above as an ever-growing dream. Only I don't get to live that dream. Today was the day I will get executed for the sins I not once committed. "Princess," Ilri, my trusted maid, pleaded with a shaky voice.

I shook my head with a small smile and tears fell from her eyes. There was not a single dry eye right now and all I could hear were sniffles as I looked around "You shall not call me that," I tenderly patted her head. "I am no longer your princess, my father is dead."

I looked at each and everyone of my beloved maids, the ones I had grown up with, and the ones I will never, ever see again after this. "You all have served me well. May the Gods bless you and your future."

I tried to not to show emotions in my last moments with them, if I do, all the beacon of hope they have will vanish along with me. I waved goodbye to my good maids for the last time and the prison guards proceeded to put me in shackles and drag me to my execution place. They didn't even bother giving me footwear. I can feel the tears threatening to pool in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I'll be damned if any of these people see me cry. The walk was long, as if they were giving me my last shred of humanity before they stripped it away from me. I stared at the heavy shackles that bound my wrists together and suppressed a groan of pain when the guard pulled on it 'accidentally.'

My father, the former ruler of the Kingdom of Aurora, was not the best ruler. I knew my father was not a good person, and he had this coming for him eventually, but now I have to bear the sins he made and pay for them with my life. I was being led to the execution ground, each step I took felt heavier and heavier, and the screams from the people from Dune were getting louder and louder; more ear-piercing, more bellowing.

I was pushed harshly andI suppressed a groan of pain when I hit the ground and realized that my knees and palms were bleeding. I hear the guards snickering from above me. I stood up and looked them in the eye without backing down. They become uncomfortable and shift away. Bloodlust. I slowly talked in the middle of the area, the roars getting more deafening. The people, they want me dead to satisfy their habit of decomposing, right before their very eyes.

And die I will. I kept my head held high, refusing to look down. I refuse to bow down, even if the ground hurts my delicate feet the more I step forward. It seemed like the whole kingdom was here. After the information that Aurora was down, it wasn't much of a surprise that everybody wanted to witness this spectacle. Everybody knew I would be here, and everybody knew me. They have suffered far too long and my death would make a change. Things have been thrown my way - eggs, shoes, tomatoes, even daggers - none of them hit me, yet. I tried ignoring them and continued to my set course until I stopped below what seemed like a stage.

There were people there, officials with how they wore their uniforms, but the only thing that caught my attention was the one man that sat in the middle of the stage - The King. I couldn't see half of his face, nobody except his confidants. He always had this mask that covered his lower face and it always emphasized how dark his eyes were. I'm not talking about the colour, I meant the level of sinister it held.

And right now, it held pure, unadulterated hatred towards me; the type that reduced me into nothing but a vermin. Silence enveloped the whole place, not a breath nor an exhale could be heard all throughout. An official stepped forward with his hands behind his back. He was of average height, nothing too extraordinary. But he was cunning, like that of a fox.

"Your kingdom has fallen, Princess Y/N," the King's right-hand man, Jung Wooyoung, said. "Best believe, you shall concede."

When he called my name, flashbacks upon flashbacks came into my mind. I remembered the sacrifices I had to make to get to where I was. All the suffering, the hurt, but all in vain. I didn't answer, opting to look him straight in the eye. I wasn't trying to rebel or show dominance, just that I meant absolutely no harm. "Lest you deny everything that is your kingdom," Wooyoung paused. "Your father has done, you are, hereby, sentenced to death..."

I tuned him out, my ears ringing so loudly in my head that I couldn't focus. I knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less.

"Kneel."

It was one word, and it had snapped me out of whatever trance I was slowly falling onto. My eyes widened ever so slightly, but I composed myself before anyone could notice. When I didn't move, a tall man wearing full-blown knight armour began to make his way towards me. I stifled a gasp when he drew a sword to my neck. I was sure he nicked the skin because I felt warm liquid trickle down. "Bow down, princess," the knight spat with venom.

The King raised a hand and in one second, the knight left my side. It was unnerving, the control he had on everyone, but not before snapping at me one more time. "If you know what is best for you," another voice from the podium sounded. It was calm, but make no mistake, he was vicious. "Your life no longer belongs to you. Bow."

I couldn't help the fire in my eyes as I stared angrily at the stage and announced in the loudest, firmest voice I could ever muster. "I am the princess of the great Kingdom of Aurora. You may have temporarily erased my home and have taken everything from my people, but you will not take my dignity."

Screams of protests sounded all throughout the arena, but all I could focus on was the smirk from the man who spoke after Jung Wooyoung. It was as if he was waiting for me to say something foul so he'd have an excuse to kill me.

"Was."

It was one command and it made everybody stop. It admittedly brought shivers down my spine. It was the first time I have ever heard the King speak. His voice had this rich, silky, baritone that could bring anyone to their knees. He almost had me. He stood from the smaller throne, and I almost shrunk. He was tall, taller than any man I've seen in my life, and he was broad. His form, the way he carries himself, the regality, solidified his authority.

This was the man that killed my father, the man who destroyed Aurora, something no kingdom has even gotten close to doing. Jeong Yunho was not a man to be trifled with. "The one who speaks with a sharp tongue," he grabbed a bow and positioned it so it was pointing at me before putting the arrow on it. "It's no surprise that God wasn't on your side."

He let go and the arrow came barreling towards my direction. The force of it was so strong, I heard the 'whoosh' sound through the air. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact - waited for my death.

But it never came.

I opened my eyes and craned my head to look down and the arrow was skillfully lodged between my feet. An inch more, it would have landed on my heart.

"Seize her to the dungeons," the King waved his hand dismissively.

I didn't protest, I couldn't, when the guards started dragging me roughly to Lord-knows-where. My stomach felt like it dropped to my foot along with that arrow, the chilling reality and the instantaneous realization that I had almost died. I thought I was ready, but clearly, the terror was indescribable at the face of death. I kept a calm disposition as I was being dragged away, but I maintained eye contact with Jeong Yunho, and he knew I was scared. I could see the sadistic twinkle in his eyes.

Before I knew it, one week had passed since I was thrown down here, one week since I'd seen any sunlight, and one week since I last felt any sort of human interaction. Time flies differently when you're alone. It was driving me insane. They weren't feeding me well, but at least I wasn't shackled anymore. The isolation did give me a lot of time to think, however.

I knew what the King was doing. My father, no matter the monster he was, loved me dearly. Jeong Yunho was getting back at him by making me suffer. Chills went down all over my body at the thought of him. I had never seen anybody in general with the type of hatred Yunho had for me. It was soul-consuming. The sound of metal clanking caught my attention. It was the guard that usually gave me my food, or at least, what looked like food.

"Not up to your tastes, princess?" he said with a mocking tone. I couldn't blame him, my father had made the people of Dune suffer with his wicked ways.

I didn't reply to avoid conflict. "I'll be back in ten minutes," he continued. "The King wants you."

Fear enveloped my entire core. Has he finally decided to kill me after making me wait for one whole week? True to his words, the same guard fetched me and I was surprised to be lead to a small room with a bucket of water. Apparently I had to wash up before the King took to see me.

Or rather, kill me.

I hurriedly did as told and wore a dress that hung for me to take. It was a simple one, much like a commoner's. As we walked, I couldn't help but stare at myself through every mirrored wall we passed through. Twenty-two years as a princess, and now suddenly a prisoner - someone who was truly hated because of my father.

"Enter," a grunt sounded from inside the room when the guard knocked.

The guard left literally before Yunho was finished giving the order to come in. I took a few breaths before I walked in and closed the door behind me. It was large, unsurprisingly, and the first thing I noticed was how different the architecture was compared to my own room in Aurora. But all in all, it was as lavish as it can be. There he was, standing proudly in the middle of the room as he leaned onto what seemed to be his office table, staring at me with his arms crossed across his chest.

He still had that mask that covered half of his face, but his eyes, they made me feel so little. I stared back at him, caught off-guard that he was actually waiting for me instead of being somewhere else and passing a message to me. "How was your stay in the dungeon?" he asked rhetorically, unblinking and unrelenting.

I averted my eyes by looking down on the floor. No matter how hard he tried to keep his expression neutral, there was loathing in those eyes. There was no warmth. I wasn't human to him. I heard him walking, his shoes clacking against the greyish tiles. "Such insolence," he chuckled darkly. "Look at me."

And I did, looking straight into his eyes once more and was taken aback by the disgust that laid on them. It was the first true emotion I saw on him, no matter how negative it was. "You're going to answer when I ask something, yes?" the King snarled lowly. "I would love nothing but to punish you, trust me. Now I'm going to ask you again," he stopped walking a couple of feet away from me. "How was it?"

Angry tears started to pool in my eyes. "Good," I whispered.

He smirked, tilting his head. "Good...?"

Humiliation clogged up my tightening throat. "Good, S-Sir."

His cold, but satisfied, eyes never left me as a sadistic grin flashes upon his face. "Let's get one thing straight right now," he said. "You will address me from now on. You're my property now, got it?"

"Y-Yes, Sir."

Fear was stuck in my throat, but I didn't allow it to show because I knew all this would happen the moment Aurora fell and I was captured by the Dunean army. Yunho hummed in response. "I will break you, Y/N. That fire in your eyes right now will be gone when I'm done with you."

Shivers traveled up my spine at the sheer hatred that coated his voice when he mentioned my name. He motions for me with his finger. "Come here."

My legs felt like they had lead attached to them. I stiffly walked towards him. I stopped directly in front of him, trying my best to stand upright, but I could feel my legs shaking and giving up on me. "You acted so high and mighty at the arena earlier," he clicked his tongue. "Where is that now?"

I bunched my dress tightly in my fists. "I don't know, Sir."

It took everything in me not to back away from him and I gasped in pain when he pulled my hair back hard. Pure contempt filled his features. "Do you know what your father did?" the King hissed, his fists tightening around my hair. "Do you?"

I hate him, but my hatred towards pain was stronger. I bit my lips hard so as to not make any sound. "Yes, please, it hurts---"

I felt a hand wrap around my throat - his other hand - and terror made its way to my bones.

His face revealed nothing, he was very calm, and that was what made it worse. There was no anger, no sneer, not even a mocking stance. It was nothing. He was just staring at me choking on the air he took from me as he squeezed tighter and tighter. I resorted to clawing his arms from me as dark spots started to appear from my vision, my eyes fluttering dangerously, my consciousness steadily fading away from me.

"P-Please," I begged

"Pathetic," he spat.

Finally, he lets go and shoves me harshly. I end up losing my balance due to nausea and almost kissing the floor. I looked up to glare nastily at him, but all he gave me was a bone-chilling stare that made me feel so little.

"Get up," he commanded. I coughed harshly, not hearing him, but he wasn't having it. He grabbed my hair again and dragged me up. I yelped when he grabbed my chin and roughly tilted my head up. There was a significant height difference between us, so my neck was straining. "P-Please---"

"I despise you more than your father, do you know that?" Yunho growled.

"I-I don't understand," I quivered helplessly.

He let out a sinister chuckle. "You might not have indirectly made not only Dune, but other kingdoms as well, a living hell, but you were there. It took me years to erase your father's reign of terror."

My ears rang with each painful word and tears sprung from my eyes. "And you did absolutely nothing to stop it," he continued. I hissed when he squeezed my jaw. "I'm telling you, princess. You will be begging me to stop once I start."

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop him, I swear," I pleaded with him. "I-I'm not my father..."

He smirked darkly. "I know."

He tugged the bejeweled mask from his face, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. I froze when it finally came off, taken aback when I finally saw his face for the first time. I would always remember how beautiful he was, if not for the explosive anger that covered his expressions. His sharp nose complimented his alluring eyes and his jawline was definitely carved by God, himself. However, right now, his facial muscles are tense.

"See this?" he pointed bluntly at his face. "He had the time of his life giving me this."

I was confused at first, not knowing what he was talking about, until I looked at what he was pointing at. There was a scar that ran from his upper lip straight down his chin in a diagonal angle. I paled at the sight, not because it disgusted me, but because I truly felt for him and what he had gone through in the hands of my father. Dread filled my heart. Appearances are one of the most important things about a noble, especially a king, and my father just ruined Jeong Yunho's chances of getting taken seriously by his subjects.

My heart moved a little faster than normal when I realized that the scar never dulled his striking features - if anything, it made him even more stunning. I didn't even notice it at first.

"Open your mouth," he said. There was no expression in his eyes.

I raised my chin higher, not wanting to stall in case he actually strangled me long enough to pass out. And so, I did as told and opened my mouth wide. I cringed when he spat in my mouth, my body feeling hot when I saw a thread of saliva connecting our mouths together. It was humiliating getting spat on, let alone inside the mouth by someone who loathed me. He knew it, so he did it again.

"Swallow," he ordered. I made a sound of protest, and his eyes flashed black. It sunk in that was my fate now, and I cannot escape it.

But I was going to bear it with dignity, or what was left of it. I was born a princess, and no amount of degradation will remove my royal lineage. His lips twitched ever so slightly when I slowly swallowed his spit, and his eyes trailed down my neck where it traced my throat as it went down, and down, until his eyes snapped back at mine again.

"Your pride and arrogance astounds me," he mocked, grabbing onto my hair again and tilting my head upwards. "Let's see how far that takes you."

He leaned down and quickly ravaged my lips in a frenzied kiss. I froze, tears starting to form in my eyes. In Aurora, a woman's kiss held utmost importance. This was worse than being taken against my will. He pulled away momentarily, irritation laced upon his face. "Behave," he commanded in a different language, a language I knew well.

My chest was pained, he spoke Aurorean, which meant he knew exactly what stealing a kiss from me meant. I swallowed down the panic and humiliation and tried my very best to detach myself from the present. I nodded, afraid of another punishment from him. He grabbed my hips, his fingers painfully pressing on it, as I opened my mouth. My father saw to it that no man was to ever get near me unless they wanted a guaranteed death.

He grunted as he bit and explored every surface of my mouth, his strong hands caging me and ensuring me that I would not be able to get out of this. I whimpered in pain when he bit my lip so hard, he drew blood. The metallic taste of it spread throughout my tongue as he played with mine.

Although it was animalistic and borderline barbaric, I could have sworn he was holding back on me. And he didn't disappoint, he pulled away with the most satisfied, sadistic, unhinged smile on his face. I was mortified, taking a step back away from him.

"W-What have you done?" I whispered torturously, ignoring the pain of my now swollen lips.

"Mingi!" the King barked loudly, ignoring me.

I could feel myself slowly hyperventilating, my thoughts jumbling into a manic mess. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, staring at him with defiance. The door slowly opened and in comes a familiar man wearing armour. "My king?" He was the tall man who pointed a sword at my throat and managed to nick the skin on it. "Your mask..."

I knew him, at least by name. Song Mingi was a household name being the Head Commander of all the armies in Dune. "Lock her there," Yunho pointed at a specific room that was connected to this chamber. "And lock her good," he stared at me with contempt. "We don't want an uprising."

I was offended, but I had no energy to contest it. Mingi didn't share the same energy. "You're not going to kill her?"

"No," he replied. "Death is too easy. Go."

Mingi hesitated. "But, sire..."

The King started to walk away but paused without a backwards glance. "Go."

I gasped when an armoured hand grabbed my arm. "You're coming with me," Mingi growled, and then we started walking.

"W-Wait, please," I tried to reason with him, but all I got was the meanest glare I've ever seen in my life so I just clamped my mouth shut. He roughly shoved me towards the room without any remorse and I surprisingly ended up landing on a bed. I quickly scrambled up to take my surroundings in.

"I don't know what Yunho is planning for you, but it's not going to be pretty," the commanding knight spat bitterly. I was surprised with the first name basis reference, but I chose to ignore it. With that, he slammed the door with a loud bang and I heard him lock it.

I realized that I was in a fairly decent sized room, but it was empty with only a bed and a dresser in it. There was also a small window by the bed, but it was barred, and even if it wasn't, jumping would be impossible since I would fall straight to my death. For the first time since my kingdom fell, my father was killed, and I was held captive, I felt real pain. I sobbed loudly, not caring if I could be heard from the outside. Heavy sobs wracked my entire body, and I wasn't sure which one hurt more - the one physical pain or the emotional pain.

Everything hurt so, so much and for a moment, I was stupid to think I could do this. Why did my father's sins have to haunt me? He was dead, damn it, so why? He was a greedy man, plundering and destroying anything that resembled a civilization in his path. He killed so much that his life was barely enough to pay for every single soul he condemned. I huddled myself in my bed, burying myself in the blanket provided as I tried to control my tears from falling. I didn't want to cry anymore, but it was so difficult to stop myself.

I have to survive, no matter what it takes. Jeong Yunho might temporarily stall me, but he will never break me.

And so another game of waiting began. Spending time in this room wasn't all bad, I wasn't getting hurt and I wasn't seeing Jeong Yunho at all, so I was able to focus on my recovery alone. Until one day, that peace was broken. I was just about to make the bed provided to me when the door suddenly opened to reveal the most majestic person I have ever seen. He had this soft yet angular face at the same time. He was pretty.

"I bid you good morning," I bowed slightly, just in case this one was a stickler for rules.

"Charmed," he replied. His voice was only slightly deeper than the King's. "Get ready. He wants you."

I frowned. I knew who he was referring to. "For what?"

He raised a brow. "It's not my place to question---"

I saw red. "So he could finally kill me?" I scoffed. "He can rot in hell for all I care."

I was beyond reasoning and this alone could get me killed, but I could care less at this point. The man narrowed his eyes at me with a dangerous stare. Finally, he sighed, entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Look," he began. "Personally, I don't have anything against you, but I also have no care if you rot in here with your insubordination."

I stared at him as I took his insults. There was a glimmer of anger and understanding in his eyes. "Don't make this harder for the both of us," he sighed. "Don't make him come here and drag you out, himself."

"Your king is an animal," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

The man raised his brows in surprise before chuckling. "Mingi was right. You are ungrateful."

"Am I supposed to be grateful for this?" I cried out.

"Yes, he let you keep your life," he snapped, surprising me. "You're not even supposed to be alive right now. You have no idea what he's capable of, you don't want to know what he's capable of."

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Now, if you're done," he continued. "Get dressed and follow me. There should be some in the dresser."

I gave in and did as told. I don't know what came over me, but at this point, I was too emotionally tired of thinking too much. Escaping reality seemed like a good choice right now. When I stepped out with him, Yunho was already waiting for the both of us. It seems that this was unexpected for the man who escorted me out as well and he had this startled expression on his face.

I almost wanted to hyperventilate again. Memories of what happened the last time I was here came rushing through my mind. I felt as if my lungs were shrinking in on me as I tried to breathe in when the King looked straight at me in displeasure, his eyes lingering a bit longer on my shaking hands. He looked away to turn to the man beside me. "Stellar work, Grand Duke."

I barely kept my expression when I side-eyed the taller man beside me. I just disrespected a Grand Duke because I failed to keep my cool and so far, he's only reprimanded me. There can only be one Grand Duke in this kingdom and I was rude. "You flatter me too much, Your Grace," the Grand Duke bowed his head.

The King raised a brow. "Spare me the servility, Seonghwa."

A deadly smirk paints Seonghwa's lips. "You make it sound like our captive is difficult."

"If she tries anything," Yunho gives me a nasty glare. "You'll be the first to know. Now, get out."

The air was so awkward, at least for me, when Seonghwa left. I didn't know what to do, but I wasn't going to wait.

"You called for me," I mumbled. "Sir."

He turned away to wear that black mask he was known for that covered the bottom half of his face. "Get ready. We're going to court," he ordered.

I faltered. That was a mistake on my part. The unmistakable fire of anger started to cloud his eyes. He narrowed his eyes on me. "What?" he asked threateningly. "Something the matter, prisoner?"

"I-I---" I stammered pathetically, the words getting stuck in my throat. My hesitation cost me. The King chuckled lowly at first, until it slowly turned into a sadistic laugh that bared all his teeth.

"I thought we already agreed that you will obey whatever it is I tell you?" Yunho shook his head. The ferocious glint in his eyes as he started slowly walking towards me were so dark it held no reflection against them. "I even gave you weeks to think about it alone."

Tears burned in my eyes as I averted them. "I apologize, Sir, please..."

He stops halfway all of a sudden, squinting his eyes at me in sheer fury. "Kneel."

I faltered, and he noticed. "I don't like repeating myself," he growled. "Kneel."

I sank to the ground, afraid of the consequences, my knees hitting the ground with a thud. He started walking until he was directly in front of me.

He sat down to my eye level. If he wasn't intimidating before, he certainly was now. This was the closest I've gotten to him and the proximity made me extremely nauseous. He harshly grabbed my chin, his grip was firm and ensured I never looked away from him. "Do you, perhaps, have a craving for pain, Y/N? Is that what you want?" Yunho hissed, his voice low and deadly. "Thick as you are, surely you are not that foolish?"

He paused, his hands traveling down and caressing my bruised neck. "I could collar you," a ghost of a smile. "What say you?"

Cold dread washed over me. "No, please, Sir, I-I'm sorry, don't do it..."

He didn't blink and stared at me with clear hatred. "I'm not like your father," he spat. "But the next time you displease me, I'll take drastic measures, understand?"

I nodded faster than I have ever done in my entire life. "Splendid," Yunho deadpanned. "Be on your best behaviour. Do not disgrace me."

Everything was such a blur. One second, I was kneeling beneath Jeong Yunho, the next second I was in a carriage, and the next moment, I was standing like a slave next to his throne, where he sat, while he looked on downwards. From this view, we could see everything. And we weren't alone. As usual, the Head Commander Song Mingi was there, and he was snarling at me. There were also two more people in here with us - only one of which I wasn't familiar with.

I remember the man who was on the lower level of the box stage, he was the one who told me that my life wasn't mine anymore a couple of weeks ago. It was so bold of him. The man beside him, I have never seen him before, but it was easy to see that he was a Courtier, the king's adviser. Suddenly, the bold man looked up at me and smirked treacherously. "How are you settling in, princess?"

I shrank closer to Yunho, whose face remains stoic and expressionless. I was uncomfortable at the sudden attention. I wasn't used to being held captive at all. "Don't look away," I heard Yunho whisper. He looked up at me with no expression in his eyes. "And get your hands off me or I will make sure you never get to touch anything else ever again.

I didn't even realize that I was gripping his shoulders. "I am sorry, Sir..." With that, he left in disgust.

"Cat got your tongue?" the man continued in a biting tone. "Do you even know what's happening?"

My heart dropped to my feet. I had an inkling what today was about, but it didn't hurt less.They killed my people. The man clicked at his tongue, displeased at my lack of response. "Makes me wonder why my brother didn't kill you yet," he mumbled more in wonder rather than malignance.

I frowned. I had no idea that the King had another brother. I stared at him for a second longer before I looked away. They looked so similar, but different at the same time. A huge difference was that the Second Prince, albeit snide, still had humanity in his eyes - something his older brother lacked. He left the room without a backwards glance at me.

I stared into space, imagining what my life would have been like if I wasn't born as my father's daughter. I sniffled, catching the attention of the people around me. I could see them sneer, hear them mumble under their breaths at how I was faking my grief, but I didn't care. My people were gone. I have failed them.

Even then, I didn't blame anyone but my father. Everything was his fault. A handkerchief showed itself in front of my face. "Wipe your tears now," the Courtier sighed. I didn't even notice him getting here. "Here. Take it before Yunho comes back."

Again with the first name basis. I shook my head. "I thank you, b-but I wouldn't dare accept,' I whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. My blood boiled at the lack of care for my people, but I get it. My father was barbaric. He laughed at dying people. He was about to insist, but the Head Knight spoke. "San," Mingi began with that deep voice of his. "We have to go."

"Look alive," he said. "Everyone will be here shortly."

"W-What? Why?"

"To discuss what happened and how we'll move forward," he paused, hesitating. "Wooyoung?"

I was confused, until I turned around. I didn't even notice that there was somebody else in the room besides me and the Courtier. He began to walk towards us. "To discuss whether we should bury the dead," the King's right-hand deadpanned. "To discuss if we should include you."

"Knock it off," San warned in a heavy tone.

Wooyoung scoffed. "What?" he dared. "It's the truth. Better now than be knocked for six later."

I gulped nervously. "You hate me though," I mumbled.

He raised a tentative brow. "I do," he confirmed. "Your father killed my brother. Callously, might I add."

My breath hitched at the new information, though I wasn't surprised at all to hear it. "Jung Woohyun, was it?"

A flicker of surprise crosses Wooyoung's face. "Yes," he said slowly. "You knew him?"

I shook my head. I knew the names of each and everyone that my father had deliberately killed. I didn't do it on purpose, I just couldn't forget out of guilt. So I did the thing I knew best. I sank slowly to the ground and bowed lowly until my forehead hit the floor. "I offer my deepest apologies to you, Sir. Though I am aware that my words do not hold any weight..."

There was a tense silence in the room. I felt a shaking hand try to help me get up. Wooyoung's eyes held great anger, but they shone with intense sadness. "Your apology will never bring him back," he vehemently spat. "Though I appreciate it, nonetheless."

"That's enough for now," San interrupted, much to my relief. "Everyone is coming."

Right on cue, the doors opened and in came barreling in nobles and officials, all of whom I have never seen before, and the familiar face of Grand Duke Seonghwa alongside someone whose face was the epitome of nobility, itself. I have never seen someone so handsome before. Lastly, Jeong Yunho, the King, himself walked in with all the grace that none of the other nobles had, and behind him was the Second Prince. I took my position to stand like a slave near the King's throne while he sat down next to his brother's smaller one.

"That's the princess?" a man who was well into his fifties pointed at me. "My, she's a thing of beauty!"

I bit back a whimper at all the unwanted attention directed towards me and inched closer to Yunho's throne. A murmur of agreement resounded through the entire room and I cringed inwardly at the blatant display of lust and salaciousness in the eyes of the noblemen who stared at me. I lowered my head, refusing to be the subject of such disgusting thoughts.

"Too bad she's Aurorean," another nobleman chuckled. "I would have loved to taste that..."

That seemed to open a can of worms. Everybody seemed to momentarily forget that I was the daughter of one of the most vicious kings that ever lived, and it automatically made me the center of all of their hatred.

"Oh, our benevolent king," a nobleman bowed in front of us. "I plead that we take the Aurorean princess as an offer to appease your people."

"Heed our words, Our King!"

"Hear 'ye, hear 'ye!"

I swallowed the panic and humiliation that was threatening to spill from my mouth and I tried to back out to avoid the attention, but it was useless. I could feel my muscles straining and my throat closing up in dread.

"You're not going to let them do this, aren't you?" the King's younger brother frowned in disapproval. "This is barbaric and unbecoming of our kingdom, no matter the deed!"

I could feel my hands shaking in anxiety, is this one of the punishments that Yunho had planned for me? I stared at San, possibly the only person who had shown me mercy so far, and I could see the apprehension brewing in his eyes as he and Wooyoung looked at one another. The King didn't say a word. He continued to stare and watch the commotion unfold. The noblemen took this as a 'yes' and began to approach me, but the Second Prince stopped them.

"Halt!" his loud voice boomed, angrily standing up and glaring at everyone who dared to move. "This is preposterous!"

"But Prince Jongho, our beloved Second Prince, Aurora had shown no mercy on thy people when we were suffering!"

"Aye!"

I saw the said Prince's eyes narrow in disgust. I would've been glad to finally put a name to the man keeping my dignity, even if his reasons weren't beneficial for me, but the situation was bad. "You're right, I despise her as well, but we are not them," he gritted his teeth. He abruptly turned to the King. "Brother!" he exclaimed. "You can't let them do this! Park Seonghwa, get up here!"

But the King didn't care. Before the Grand Duke could even get up from his chair, half of the noblemen protested as if they were slighted. "The King's words, or lack thereof," Seonghwa glared at Yunho. "Are final. I'm sorry, my prince."

I looked at the Second Prince in gratitude but all he did was snarl. "Do what you wish," Prince Jongho got up and opened the door to leave, slamming it to make a point.

I cried out when I felt my arms being grabbed as I was being dragged in the middle of the room. Tears filled my eyes when I was released harshly, keeping my head down so I wouldn't have to see their wretched faces. "Good Lord, she's exquisite," I heard someone from above me groan.

I heard all the men hum in approval. I tried to detach myself from all of this - I tried to remember my childhood, my mother, and my good servant and friend, Ilri. I missed her. She would have comforted me in my times of need. I looked up to stare at Yunho. He wasn't doing anything, he was relaxed, even. Our eyes met and he just stared back without any sort of expression.

"It all ends here," the filthy nobleman who suggested this in the first place growled. I gasped when he held out a sharp knife in front of my face. "You will pay for everything!"

I cried out loud when the knife swung and I subconsciously brought my hands to my face. My arms took the hit and they were bleeding badly, but the adrenaline to survive had kept me going. Once again, I turned to look back at Yunho, hoping that my tear-stained eyes were pleading enough for him to save me from this nightmare. He was the only one who can save me, even though I don't deserve it.

I blinked back tears as I talked to him with my eyes. I remember the first time I saw him back in Aurora. Even though he had the same mask he did back then like the one he had on right now, I vaguely remember thinking how majestic he was. I remember the anger, the anguish, his declaration of war with my father and my kingdom. I snapped out of my daydream and my arms were pulled back and I started twisting to free myself when I realized that these noblemen were really going to kill me right here, right now.

I whimpered with a broken voice, something I doubt anyone heard in all the commotion that was happening.

"Enough," the King's firm voice sounded.

Yunho had no need to raise his voice or force anybody to listen. Not a sound was heard throughout the whole room except for my hysterical sobs of relief. It was the most intense feeling I have ever experienced and I used what was left of my adrenaline to scramble towards him and hide myself. I knew this man was bound to finish the job that these noblemen didn't in the future, but right now I didn't care. I'd rather die by his hands than these vultures that want to eat me alive.

"Your Grace? What seems to be the matter?" the nobleman seethed in anger. "You did not seem to deny our pleas earlier!"

"But I never told you to go ahead either, did I?" Yunho raised a brow. He got up from his throne and started to descend. I got behind him to shield myself.

The noblemen all protested in anger. "My King, we all know how much you hate her! She is an abomination in this world, she ruined everyone's lives! She deserves to die! Her father killed the Third Prince!"

I halted abruptly when Yunho stilled in his steps. His back was tense - that nobleman hit a nerve. I whimpered, this was it for me. The nobleman was not wrong; my father did kill the Third Prince. It was a well-known fact that the Third Prince was beloved. Yunho stepped closer to the crowd. I was about to trot like a coward towards him when I felt a hand stop me. I looked up and Seonghwa was shaking his head as a warning. His stance visibly made everybody uncomfortable. "She is my prisoner. She belongs to the King, who happens to be me."

His voice was dangerously low. "You do not dictate to me what to do with her. If the event comes that her life will end, I am the only one allowed to do it because I own her. She is mine."

I gasped when Yunho yanked me harshly towards him. I landed on his chest and when I looked up, his face was expressionless as usual. He lifted his mask a bit to lean down and our lips connected for the second time since we've met, then he pulled away just as fast. That shut up anybody that dared to question him, but the silence was deafening. This time, I didn't have the ability to resent him for it. I'd kiss him a million times if he'd saved me the same amount.

Yunho turned around towards the door with authority and no one dared question it. "Send Prince Jongho back to punish these cretins."

I followed him helplessly until we were back in his chambers. I jumped a bit when he slammed the door hard. He pulled his mask away from his face and threw it away into nowhere in particular. I can't say I'm surprised when I saw how enraged he was. His eyes were wide with anger and his lips were set into a fine line.

I gulped. "Y-Your Grace?"

"What?" Yunho snapped and I almost backed out.

"I-I just wanted to thank---"

"Don't," he cut off, his expression dark. "I didn't do it for you. What even gave you that idea?"

My cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "You are most right, Sir. I apologize..."

Thick silence enveloped the room. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and stared back at me with equal remorse. I was left to wonder what his reasons were, though I knew I would get punished if I asked why.

"You were ready to die that day."

I resisted the urge to look away from him, momentarily confused at what he was referring to. Then, I remembered. He was referring to the day when I was supposed to be executed. "I wasn't," I replied truthfully, hoping it was sincere enough. "No one is ever ready to die."

Yunho crossed his arms. "Why didn't you avoid the arrow, then?"

"Because I know you wouldn't do it...Sir."

He smirked at my boldness. "Admirable. Not many idiots have this type of audacity."

He stared at me long and hard, and I was sure he would demand for me to kneel, but all he did was turn around after. "Get out of my sight."

I didn't waste any time before he changed his mind. I scurried back to the room provided for me and quickly sat on the edge of my bed in exhaustion. I hissed in pain, remembering that my arm was slashed. I quickly inspected it and whimpered when I saw that the cut was deep.

"Oh God," I whispered, pressing the first cloth I saw on the wound, not caring if there would be blood on it, though I can't say I'm too upset about it. This was bound to happen and I'm surprised that it took this long for my blood to spill. It's been over a month since I've been captured, imprisoned, threatened.

A knock on the door startled me. I frowned, who could it be? Do they know I'm here? No one would be respectful enough to knock on a prisoner's door. "C-Come in..."

The Knight Commander entered briskly and behind him was Courtier Choi San and another man I have never seen before. "This is Kang Yeosang," San introduced. "He's a Duke but also a surgeon."

I quickly stood up and bowed my head in respect. It saddened me that I got used to it, but honestly, I couldn't care less anymore. "A surgeon?" I asked. "I'm confused."

The man, Yeosang, pointed at my bleeding arm. "That looks bad. Do you mind?"

I frowned, apprehension filling my guts. "You're going to...treat my arm?"

"Yes? You're wounded, why wouldn't I?"

Because I am the King's prisoner and I am lower than a slave, and slaves certainly do not get treated for any type of injury caused by nobles.

"Why? He does not fit your standards?" Mingi scoffed, and that earned him a glare from the San. I ignored him and went ahead to sit down on my bed and Duke Yeosang followed suit. He held my arm and clicked his tongue as he observed the long gash.

"Unfortunately, you need stitches," he mumbled. "I can administer them to you, but it will be very painful."

My heart dropped to my foot, but I nodded nonetheless. Yeosang gave me a colourful batch of crystal-looking things. "They're calming lozenges," he said when I hesitated to take them. "It's not going to get rid of the pain, but hopefully they will make it easier for you."

"T-thank you, Duke," I gratefully accepted them.

"Yeosang is fine," he waved his hand dismissively. I was surprised but opted not to say anything. He began tying a cloth around my arm. "This is to help lessen the bleeding---"

"A tourniquet, I'm aware," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Yeosang let out the smallest smile and nodded in agreement. I popped the lozenges in my mouth and automatically, the taste of lavender coats my mouth. I bit hard on it when I felt a needle poke onto my skin and I groaned loudly, surprised at how painful it actually was.

"So," San started. "How come you never gave me those lozenges, Yeo?"

I knew what he was doing - a conversation was better than fat silence. I screamed in pain when the needle pierced my skin.

"I need you to stay still, princess," Yeosang frowned. Tears formed in my eyes, but I obliged. "Anyway, it's because you don't deserve them, San."

"Seriously? I would have gone to the end of the world for you!"

"Then stay there," the Duke deadpanned. "Breathe in for me."

"O-Okay," I trembled. I took the deepest breath in and the searing pain in my arm almost made me want to vomit at the very least.

I saw San, and even Mingi, wince when I looked up. I had this urge to look straight and past the door, at the very end of his room, the King was there staring into the room. Yunho stared at Yeosang doing his work on my arm and I resisted the urge to scream again, but all in vain. He took one good look at me before leaving entirely.

"You know I can't live without you," San chuckled, still trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Then die," Yeosang hissed. "Both of you, out!"

"And you," Yeosang's eyes found mine when we were all alone. "I heard about what happened in court. You better check your attitude if you don't want to be a corpse before this year ends."

He paused. "That was what everyone did when your father was still king."

I cringed, both from my words and the pain, but I can't even refute him. "No matter what I do, your King will punish me either way."

"He's not like that," he shook his head. "I'm sure you know how brutal he can get, but you also know he's very fair and just."

"Not with me, no," I smiled bitterly. "Though I understand."

"Believe it or not, he's actually holding back with you."

Blood rushed all the way to my head, but Yeosang wasn't done. "If he wants to get back at you for everything your father did, he would kill you, resurrect you, then kill you again. Wash, rinse, repeat."

Goosebumps erupted all over my body at what I just heard. "All done," he muttered, like he didn't just say the most terrifying thing I've heard in a while. "Go easy on yourself," Yeosang looked at me, but I had a feeling he was talking about something else. Then, he left.

What did he mean that Yunho was holding back?

It had been a couple of months since that. After my recovery, I've been sent all over the palace, but mostly, it's just the King either asking me to do odd stuff or keep me in my quarters. Nothing had changed, Yunho was still the terrifying person who had imprisoned me, but what's keeping me going was Yeosang talking to me a lot. I learned a few things about him, like how he never wanted to be Duke in the first place, but other than him, I've been quite lonely.

Yesterday, I was sent to the kitchen to serve food for the other nobles, but I was isolated on purpose. Whenever I had to eat, they would 'forget' me. Sometimes I don't even eat the food. Everybody dislikes me, especially the servants and other maids. Certain days, I'd find that my food either resembled animal feed or was just straight up rotten. But honestly, it's okay. At least nobody was hurting me. They hate me knowing that I was the former princess of Aurora.

The other week, it was the gardens, but I got lost because the gardens were so huge. Yunho had lost his mind trying to find me, himself. Needless to say, he had locked me in my room until yesterday, but that turned out to be a dud either. At this point, Yunho was really going to kill me.

I should ask him if there was anything I could do around, mostly so he wouldn't kill me. I took a peek outside the room, surprised that my door was not locked, and stepped out. My room - my prison - was directly connected to Yunho's room so automatically, I was within his space. As expected, the room reflected his sophistication. Suddenly, I noticed another door at the far corner. Against my better judgment, I walked through and realized it was a small balcony.

"My goodness," I whispered in amazement as I scanned the beautiful view with my eyes. Yunho had never struck me as a person who enjoyed the little things in life. I took a deep breath and smiled when fresh air hit my nose and filled my lungs. It had been a while since I was able to relax, to be able to feel like I was myself again.

I must've lost time because I suddenly felt a chill enveloping me. Maybe it was my nerves, because I knew I wasn't supposed to be here.

"Interesting."

I jumped a bit, startled. I turned around and saw Yunho standing by the door with his arms crossed. I immediately felt dread and twisted my hands together in fear and submission.

"S-Sir, I'm---"

He was furious, disdain written all over his face. "Come here."

I yelped when he pinned me against the balcony railing, his big hands completely encasing my wrists. He dug his nails on my skin and I looked up at him, pleading for him to spare me. One mistake and I could go tumbling down my demise. "Don't look at me like that," he snarled. "It's taking everything in me not to throw you out down there."

It made me realize, am I able to outdo my father's sins one day? He let me go and turned around. "Never let me see you in here again," his voice hardened. "Get inside."

I walked behind him, my heart pounding uncontrollably inside my chest, and in there was his right-hand man, his brows shot up in mild shock. "Did Yeosang not lock the door?" Wooyoung asked. "I told him not to," Yunho relayed, walking to sit down on the chair he always sat on when he was being an actual king and doing his duty. "A test of some sort..."

He leaned his hand on the table and stared at me. "And you failed."

I didn't know what to expect, but I should have expected that. He wanted to see if I was going to escape. "I-It's not what---"

"Save it. I don't care," he snapped. "We're going to have to straighten you out."

We?

I have never felt so vulnerable in my entire life. Yunho alone was enough to frighten me, but Wooyoung has told me he never liked me. And speaking of Wooyoung, he wasn't even baffled. His face had no distinct expression to it. I had no idea what he thought of this.

"Sit on the table," Yunho commanded. I got moving and tried to jump slightly and sit on the wooden oak table, but it was too high since Yunho was a big man. I had to use a stool to even try and get up. I tried not to whimper when I felt hands grab my waist to hoist me up and lift me effortlessly until I sat at the edge of the table with my legs dangling over it. My feet couldn't even reach the floor.

I closed my eyes and looked down on my lap to avoid making eye contact with whoever it was, but I knew it wasn't Yunho. A hand opened my knees and I was forced to look up at Wooyoung as he gently inched himself in between them so now his midriff was pressing up against me. I couldn't help but freeze, I never realized how attractive Wooyoung was before. "You are going to learn your place," Yunho spoke again, his voice taut. "You are no longer Aurorean, and Aurora is not your place anymore because you do not belong there."

What does that even mean? I tried to squirm away but Wooyoung's hands held my shoulders. There wasn't any force to it. I looked at him apprehensively and he only shook his head at me. "You're going to have to erase every bit of what you've known all your life," Yunho continued. I turned to stare at him and all he gave was a snarl. "You are the King's, not Y/N, not a princess, nothing."

All the blood drained from my face. It dawned on me what this 'lesson' was going to be about. Yunho had taken everything from me - my home, my family, my freedom - but being Aurorean still lives inside me. Wooyoung's face relaxed when he saw the realization on my face. "I'm going to teach you how to kiss, Y/N. You have to learn how to," he paused to look me in the eyes. "Not to be you anymore. That means you don't need to abide by the Aurorean tradition."

The legend was that the gods and goddesses used to marry in the sacred land of Aurora. Every time they kissed to seal the marriage, prosperity would bring itself upon the people and good luck would flourish. Even my father, as evil as he was, never screwed around the tradition.

And now, they want me to give it up. I tried to stay still, to relax my body, but I couldn't. Wooyoung leaned down dangerously close to my neck. "Sometimes, we have to do things we don't want in order to survive," he lowered his voice even more. "Nod if you understand."

I swallowed tightly, but nodded anyway. He continued. "Yunho is doing you a favour, deviating from your tradition does not make you less of a person, but you have to set it aside so you can survive. You saw how fucked up the other nobles are. Do not give them the satisfaction of seeing you fold."

His statement hit me a lot harder than I thought. With that, he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. His eyes watched me observantly before he slowly started to move. I didn't know what I was even doing, so I closed my eyes. "Just move along with me," Wooyoung murmured. Tension filled me, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get myself to relax.

Obscene kissing sounds filled the room and I couldn't help but be saddened at the kiss I tried very hard to preserve. I felt Wooyoung's tongue trying to probe my mouth open and out of surprise, I opened my mouth to accommodate him.

"Very good," he hummed in approval in between kisses. "You can use your tongue, as well."

He was very patient with it. After a while, he taught me how to kiss back, what to do, and what not to do, and he kept complimenting me in between. I was suddenly glad that it was Wooyoung and not Yunho doing this with me. I opened my eyes momentarily and saw Yunho looking at us, or rather, just me. Suddenly, a burst of confidence went through me and a great urge to do well boosted me, but not for Wooyoung. I wanted to please Yunho, because he was watching.

Wooyoung groaned softly when I bit his lip and I felt his erection press against my thigh. His hands began roaming against my body, reaching lower until they reached my hips. "That's enough, Wooyoung," Yunho commanded, his voice cold and uncaring.

The latter pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine, but not before giving me another peck on my lips and then my head. "You did good, Y/N. You're going to be fine," Wooyoung tucked my hair behind my ears, surprising me.

He turned around and bowed to Yunho, who was now standing and staring. "Your Highness."

"Get out."

Wooyoung hesitated, but gave in and left the room. I was apprehensive, lost in thought, when I felt another body replace Wooyoung in between my thighs. I looked up, and I really had to look up, and saw Yunho staring down at me. He leaned down, just like Wooyoung did. "Well done," he whispered. "I have to reward you for being good, so you have to be good all the time."

My mind went haywire. My father never exercised the reward system. I had so many questions, but mostly, I was just afraid he'd hurt me. "Tomorrow, I instructed Seonghwa and Yeosang to go into town to extract some jewelry," Yunho said. "You will go with them to discern if they're real or fake. You know how to distinguish them, yes?"

I nodded, not knowing where this was going. "Splendid," he hummed. "Mingi will accompany you, consider that as free time. But mark my words, I will burn this city down just to find you if you escape. Don't be a fool."

"I understand, Sir," I mumbled, confused if this was a trap or not so he can finally have an excuse to kill me.

Yunho stared at me for a minute or two longer before he withdrew himself and walked away. "You're excused."

That night, I spent the whole time thinking about what just happened. Besides my disdain about my tradition being squashed, I was left wondering if that trip with the Dukes tomorrow was the reward he was talking about. It was certainly odd, was he being lenient on me? That was a reward in itself.

The next day, I found out what he truly meant. It was how I found myself in the town square walking in between Dukes Yeosang and Seonghwa and trailing behind us was a grumpy Mingi. "Try to keep this on, please," Seonghwa fixed the hood that covered my face a bit. "We can't risk you being seen out here."

Temporary freedom. I understand why I was here, the town was beautiful - Dune was beautiful in general. I adjusted the hood myself and tried to look around in fascination. On the outside, Aurora looked like this as well. The main difference was the people of Dune looked happy and were happy. The facade was so obvious back home that it hurts my heart to remember it as we walked past the town, but I was happy that people here found the happiness that my father stole once.

"Right there," Yeosang pointed out somewhere that I didn't even bother looking at. "They should be in there."

The four of us went inside this tavern, the type that was closed during the mornings. Seonghwa led us to the back part of the place and there were two people who looked like thugs waiting for us.

"Who's that?" a gruff voice pointed at me. Seonghwa bought his arm protectively in front of me when they tried to pull my cloak off.

"She will be your ticket to live," the Grand Duke glared. "Because if the gems are fake, I will personally slit your throats."

The thugs glared back but didn't say anything back. Instead, they grabbed their pouch and presented them to all of us. Seonghwa grabbed it, took one good look, before giving it for me to inspect. I was a bit surprised to find various gems of various sizes. There were the obvious diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, but I was surprised to see lesser valued stones, which were still considered expensive but definitely not ones that royals would own. My eyes gleamed when I saw amethysts and pearls, my personal favourites, but frowned when I stared closer. I did what I could, touch them, feel them to gauge my thoughts.

"Well?" Yeosang asked when he saw me frown.

I took a deep breath before I spoke. "Everything but the amethysts were real."

"Impossible!" the thugs seethed at me, charging fast before anybody could stop them. "You lying whore! I ought to---wait, you look familiar."

My blood ran cold but I tried to remain calm. "I-I know nothing--"

Mingi pulled me back as Seonghwa drew his sword to point it at the oncoming thugs. "Swindling bastards," he scoffed. "The amethyst was the one we were looking for too..."

It was in slow motion, one minute everybody was arguing about the fake amethyst and the next, my cloak was being pulled off unknowingly, therefore, blowing my cover. "You're that princess!" the thugs exclaimed in surprise and disgust.

It was too late before they could be stopped, they began charging at full speed as they hollered for the other thugs. I was frozen, never in my life have I experienced something like this.

"Son of a bitch," Yeosang hissed as he snatched the forgotten pouch. "This was their plan all along, what now?"

Seonghwa looked conflicted before he made a split decision. "Run."

I was pushed harshly by someone and I ran along with everyone as fast as I could. I took a peek behind us and saw no less than ten people chasing us down. It was definitely the adrenaline, I could never run like this in normal circumstances. I screamed loudly when I felt my dress being pulled back, halting me abruptly from running. I wasn't sure if I was loud enough, but apparently I was because in a second, Mingi swung his sword down my dress and ripped it apart from the thugs.

"Let's go!" he shouted at me. He pulled and launched me in front of him in a hurry and I thought we were doing well. I heard a groan of pain and saw that Mingi's lower leg was bleeding from what looked like an arrow graze. I halted and tried to run back to him, but he glared at me fiercely.

I nodded and ran, realizing that Seonghwa and Yeosang were separated from us, but at this point, I couldn't really care about it. I just hope they were safe. Soon enough, the both of us were able to hide in a narrow alleyway. We stayed unmoved, not breathing, and nervous as we hid. When we were sure that they were truly gone, we finally let out a long sigh of relief and slumped against the wall.

"Thank you," I breathed out towards the knight. He doesn't respond, he doesn't even spare me a glance. I frowned, my eyes trailing down his bleeding leg. "That looks bad," I whispered.

He raised a brow and finally turned to me. "Maybe because it is," Mingi snapped. I was used to this type of treatment so at this point I was immune to it. I stood up and his eyes followed my form as I began to lift up my dress. His shocked expression was the last thing I saw before he turned around. "What are you doing?!" he hissed, his ears red.

I ripped a part of my already torn dress into a strip and leaned down next to him. "Stick your leg out, please."

I tried to put my hands forward and he jerked away. "Don't you dare touch me," he snarled lowly at me and for a second, I hesitated. "Please, it's my fault--"

"I'll do it and, what, you're going to poison me?"

"No! I mean, no. If I do, feel free to kill me," I pleaded. "Just give me a chance, I-I won't bother you again if you say no."

He contemplated for a few minutes. Surprisingly, he does as he was told, finally realizing my intentions. He watched as I skillfully wrapped the cloth on his leg enough to stop the blood and hopefully avoid any infections. "You are surprisingly good with this," he commented with the softest tone I've heard him speak towards me when he realized I wasn't going to hurt him.

"Let me know if it's too tight," I let out a small smile, completely ignoring his probing look.

There was silence on his end as he stared at me calculatingly. "Thank you," Mingi finally uttered, the traces of spite I was so used to seeing on him when looked at me gone for now.

"W-Wait, you're not supposed to," I tried to stop him when he stood up and stretched his injured leg.

Mingi shrugged. "We have to go back," he stated. "The King will punish you if you're not back yet."

"I don't care," I frowned. His eyes widened slightly. "You're injured, we can stay a bit."

He chuckled and began walking anyway. "No offense, but I've been to war. A graze to the leg isn't going to kill me."

I blushed in embarrassment. He was right, how could I forget that he led an entire military fleet?

When we walked back to the carriage that took us here, Seonghwa and Yeosang were already there, the relief in their faces disappearing when they saw Mingi's bleeding leg and my torn dress. We filled each other in on what happened and I was glad to know that the two of them were able to lose the thugs pretty quickly.Soon enough, we reached the palace and I felt a little sad. I was about to go back to my reality here and I wasn't ready.

"Thank you for what you did with Mingi," Seonghwa chatted while we all walked towards my quarters.

"Y-You're thanking me?" I asked a little bit in surprise.

"Of course," Yeosang frowned, then the realization hit him. "What you did was still worth praise, whether you are a princess or not."

For the first time, I smiled brightly. I forgot how good it felt when people appreciated you rather than speak you with contempt. Mingi was about to say something, but we were interrupted by a panicked looking San approaching us. "What's the matter?" Mingi asked instead.

"You're late," San sighed tiredly. "And he's angry."

Alarm bells started going off in my brain. One thing that I noticed before everyone else even told me was that Yunho was very strict in his time management. It's the one thing that gets him automatically angry when things deviate from said time. And with that, the three of us ventured to the royal chamber. I was outright shaking at every step I took. The King's room was at the isolated part of the palace and from a distance, we all could hear raised voices and some stuff getting thrown off and hitting hard surfaces.

When Yeosang opened the door, the room was in slight disarray, the obvious culprit was the seething King glaring at the three of us as his chest rose up and down in anger. The Second Prince was sitting cross-legged at the couch looking the most relaxed as if he was so used to seeing his older brother lose his temper often. Yeosang walked towards him and whispered something in his ears. It was tense as Yunho continued glaring at me specifically. I'm surprised I haven't dropped dead yet by how hard he was looking at me. Jongho's brows raised slightly as he took a glance at my torn dress and Mingi's leg before nodding and following Yeosang out of the room.

"Just think about what I said," Jongho voiced out before completely leaving the room. Then it was three. It reminded me of my very first time setting foot in this room, Mingi had been there to watch the scene unfold before he dragged me to the quarters. That day felt like a fever dream.

"Close the fucking door," Yunho uttered after a few tense minutes. I was about to move and do as told when he stopped me. "Not you," he hissed. "Come here."

The prominent veins bulging on his temples made me swallow the saliva I hadn't noticed collecting from the hollows of my mouth. His face and tone did not give away his emotion, but I knew for a fact that this was the angriest I have ever seen him since I had met him. "Convince me," Yunho taunted after he sat on the couch where Jongho was earlier. "Convince me not to kill you right now."

I bunched my unkempt dress in my fists because of how scared I was. It doesn't escape the King's attention and he purses his lips in displeasure.

"It's not her fault," Mingi jumped in when he saw my eyes wavering. "Not entirely anyway."

He took a moment to stare at our state - how disheveled we both were - but he didn't seem to care. He turns to the Head Knight with narrowed eyes. "Walk away," he said calmly, too calmly.

"But---"

"Now."

Mingi took one good look at Yunho and with a dejected sigh, he quietly left the chambers. I felt a mix of fear, comfort, and assurance. Mingi and I weren't buddies by all means but it was the first time somebody had directly defended me in front of the King and it was refreshing.

"Let me explain for all of us," I said out loud. I wasn't sure where that burst of confidence was coming from, but it felt good. I felt like I was a princess again after so long.

Yunho raised a brow, eyes slowly morphing from surprise to anger. "No."

At the end of the day, I was still afraid of him overall. "S-Sir, with all due respect I just wanted to explain---"

"Whatever happens outside that doesn't involve me directly, I have no concern, no power over it, slave. You best wise up because I am losing my patience with you," Yunho stated with no expression. I shuffled my feet, my heart stilling when I realized that after all of this, I still can't face up to him. One word and I know he will either have me executed or just finish me off, himself. "You do realize that I tolerate you simply because I'm not ready to kill you yet?" Yunho roughly lifted my chin up so I could meet his eyes. "The goal is to slowly break you, yes?"

Tears began to pool at the corner of my eyes. That look in his eyes, it was the same look my father had when he was about to do something very sinister. I began to whimper when he started to lean down again, but instead of the usual stolen kisses, he leaned down my ear. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered. "I know everything that goes around. Including what happened. I even knew the amethysts were fake."

Everything clicked all at once. He didn't need me to verify if the gemstones were real or not - he just wanted to see if I was capable of following the rules and not escape once I'm given the opportunity. "However," he leaned away. "You do need to be punished. You were late, but you know what?"

I looked at him expectantly and he continued. "There was a small part of me that wishes you did disobey me. I would have had a reason to kill you for good."

He tucked my hair out from my face behind my ear with the coldest look in his eyes. Shivers traveled down my spine when he traced my now exposed collarbone lightly. "Don't you think it would be a shame if your skin gets branded?"

At first I didn't understand what he meant, but when it hit me, all the blood started traveling up to my head and effectively giving me intense nausea. I started to beg. "P-Please don't---"

"Why not?" he sarcastically asked. He unbuttoned his shirt - or rather, he pulled roughly on it and the buttons loosened - and set a section of his shirt aside to reveal a nasty burn on his smooth, otherwise flawless skin. "We have to get even somehow."

Horror replaced my expression of fear and terror. My father branded and burned his skin as a form of torture. I swallowed as I looked at the scarred area, finally understanding the extent of his anger and hatred towards me. He must've been through a lot. "So, how about it, Y/N?" Yunho buttoned his shirt back. "The goal is to slowly break you, yes?"

Acceptance passed through me, and I felt like I was separated from my body. "Go ahead. I-I don't hate you," I blurted out.

His brows shot up in amusement. "Interesting. Why?"

I bit my lip, hesitating if I should tell him or not, but it was too late to back out at this point. "I don't want to give you more power than you deserve over me. I simply don't care about you, even though I know why you're doing this to me."

In an instant, I regretted my decision. Yunho's face slowly transformed from neutral to pure hatred in a couple of seconds. His entire face reddens in anger and I yelped when he grabbed my arm and began dragging me roughly towards his side of the room and threw me on his bed. He hovered over me quickly. His eyes were becoming so red from anger and the usual scowl in his face was getting deeper and deeper. My heart sank, he was so beautiful even when he was on the brink of going insane with rage. "You're going to submit to me," he gritted his teeth as he seethed in anger. "Consider this another lesson, you know what I'm going to do to you right now?"

I shook my head frantically when he started to blindfold me. He barked at me loudly to stay still and my body just froze in complete fear. The blindfold had completely darkened my sight and all my pleas were getting ignored. I felt Yunho get off of me and I heard him walk towards the far end of the room. When your sight is taken out, all the other senses become even stronger.

"You can thank your father for the wonderful scar he gave me," Yunho's voice was coming from the very front of the bed. I heard metal clinking against one another and my body froze in realization. “But I’m not going to,” he whispered. "Open your eyes."

"W-Why?" I whispered.

"Your father made me into the monster that I am, this is just a taste, but I wouldn't do it to my worst enemy."

He stood up and urged me to follow him. I wiped my tears and got up to follow him. I have nothing to lose at this point. I followed him towards the section of his chambers I haven't been before and was a bit surprised to find shelves upon shelves of books. I stared in awe, my father never let me read, but it never stopped me from sneaking out and learning anyway.

"Pick one and take it," Yunho gestured to the shelves. "And pick well. You won't have this opportunity again."

"How did you know I can read?" I asked, my voice scratchy.

"I just do. Hurry up before I change my mind."

It didn't take a while for me to decide what I wanted. There was this specific book I've always wanted to read but I couldn't because it wasn't accessible to just anyone. I looked around and found exactly what I wanted. I tiptoed to reach it because unfortunately, it was perched very high. Figures. The owner of the book was a foot taller than me. My cheeks warmed when I felt heat directly behind me. I looked up to see Yunho, his arms outstretched. I couldn't help but stare at him. He had such sharp yet delicate features at the same time. Subjectively and objectively, there was no denying that he was beautiful. He was the dark, melancholic type of beauty.

"Divine Comedy," Yunho raised his brow as he handed me the book. "Interesting choice."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. "Thank you for the book, Sir."

Yunho hummed in response, his eyes held no expression as usual. He took one look at me before walking towards the door. "Organize my suits and pair them with my pants according to your liking. I'm not sure what time I'll be back, but I'll send someone if I don't."

He was like this. Sometimes, he would ask me to do odd jobs for him here and there, like he didn't just threaten me. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was so I didn't even think of escaping - not that I could, his chambers were heavily guarded - but I digress. I did what I was told. It was easier than I thought since Yunho seemed to be a very organized person, himself. I couldn't help but realize how much I've memorized the way he wanted certain things - he did like blue a lot, disliked velvet, and the little things that went unnoticed by many.

But so far, I haven't been asked to work somewhere else. Mostly, I would just stay in my quarters or Yunho would call me out for certain things. The other maids and servants had found ways to sabotage me. The last time I was out, I was asked to do the laundry, but the servants locked me in the drying room. Yunho almost executed me on the spot even though it wasn't my fault. I got distracted and I opened the book given to me. It had been a while since I felt like myself again and I was doing anything to preserve the little happiness I had right now before it went away again.

"Wow," I exclaimed in awe as I turned the book from page to page, genuinely excited to be able to finally read again.

I sat on Yunho's bed, biting my lip in apprehension. It was just a few moments and a couple of pages before I went back to work again. Besides, he said he wasn't going to come back, right?

For once in my life, I wanted to give in and just do what I wanted, and so I did. Yunho's bed was much softer than mine so the added comfort was giving me pure bliss as I continued reading on.

Soon enough, all the events that happened today were all forgotten as I got lost into another world that wasn't mine.

"How long do you think it's been?"

"I don't know, and I don't care."

"Really? You've never let any woman in your room, much less sleep on your bed, Yun."

"I didn't know you were so obsessed with me, Uncle."

"Don't call me that, brat. Anyway, should I wake her up?"

"No. Leave her alone."

It was one of those moments where it felt like my soul was separated from my body. I could hear everything, but for some reason, my brain wasn't connecting anything and my spirit wasn't waking up. I was aware that there were two voices, one of which was Yunho. All the fatigue caught up to me and I let myself fall back asleep once more.

This bed was the most comfortable thing I've ever been in. It wasn't the quality of it, the one I had back home was softer and bigger, but the solace it brought upon me, though I never understand why.

"You didn't finish your chores."

I squeezed my eyes shut before I sat up. There was no point in pretending since he knows anyway. Yunho didn't even bother to look at me, he was busy writing on a parchment and reading a book at the same time. "I apologize, Your Highness."

I realized my mistake when he paused a bit. Yunho had never told me to call him anything other than 'Sir' before, and surprisingly, he didn't comment on it. "Apologies won't get them done," he grumbled. "I didn't mean to sleep on your bed," I moved to take the blanket off. "I'll just---"

He put a hand up to halt me. "Stay. I need to ask you a few questions."

I nodded, unconsciously grabbing the blanket and wrapping myself around it. I felt a little exposed, though I'm sure Yunho would never look at me in that way, but the way he was looking at me right now, it left me a bit unnerved.

"Anyway, it's time for you to give your dues."

I was confused, but I let him talk anyway. "I need to permanently end your father's reign," his eyes turned stony for a moment. "And you're my ticket to that. For now, find something to do and come back here within three hours."

Right. That was what this was about anyway - at the end of the day, I was nothing but my father's daughter. Without being told, I got up and started to make the bed. I was starting to get better at it as time went by but I still wasn't good at it. I could feel Yunho's eyes follow my every move and it was slightly uncomfortable but nothing unmanageable.

"Get out, Y/N," he said without sparing me another glance.

This is where it gets tricky, my first instinct was to always go to the gardens, but the moment I stepped in, everybody literally glared at me. "No shame at all, princess?" People would snort at me.

Same with the kitchen and all the other sections I can think of. Without any other choice, I decided to walk my way towards a place I've been putting off for a while. I just hope that the person I'm looking for was there. I took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden infirmary wooden door. Luckily for me, Yeosang was there, but so was another person.

"Y/N? Are you hurting somewhere?" Yeosang frowned as he slowly made his way towards me.

I smiled. He was genuinely thoughtful towards me and I couldn't help but like him. "No, he sent me to do stuff but..."

He nodded his head in understanding. "How long do you have?"

"A couple of hours, I-I just, uhm..."

Yeosang quickly held my shoulders and led me to sit on his station. "Don't worry, I'll find something. He was just leaving," he gestured to the man he was with. "By the way, this Kim Hongjoong, he was visiting from Wonderland. Hongjoong, this is..."

That name sounded extremely familiar. I was pretty sure my father had mentioned it once or twice.

Sensing Yeosang's hesitation, Hongjoong cleared his throat. "I know," he shook his head. "It's quite a shame, I know why he's imprisoning you and I get it."

He sighed. "But you are not your father. The princess of Aurora has no business being here."

My heart fluttered, but I couldn't relish the feeling. The fact of the matter is, I was here and nothing I could do was able to change anything. "I-I appreciate it," I gave him a tight smile.

Hongjoong patted my shoulders. "To suffer is to find meaning in the suffering. Be strong." He walked out to leave. I frowned, his voice sounded awfully familiar too - the tone, the diction. I let it slide for now and focused on today's agenda. Yeosang was nice enough to let me clean around even though I didn't need to. It was embarrassing, he had to teach me how to do them. Soon enough, hours passed and I had to go back. "Thank you very much for helping me out," I bowed. "I-I don't want you to get in trouble for being associated with me."

"Don't worry," Yeosang brushed off. "Here, give this to him when you go back so he's in a good mood."

He handed me a scroll that was carefully held together by a thin thread. "This is just intel. Political stuff."

After saying more thanks and more promises that I'll go back to either him or San for more work, I waved him goodbye and went back to Yunho. "Right on time, Y/N. Well done," the latter praised without even bothering to look up from his work. I frowned, has he been working the entire time I was gone to do some duties? I stood directly in front of his table and he didn't notice at first. "What's that?"

He was referring to the scroll. I gave it to him and he proceeded to read it. I couldn't even tell if it was good news or not, he always wore no expression on his face. "Mingi," Yunho called. The said man entered the room shortly and waited patiently. "Summon the Second Prince and the Grand Duke."

"S-Should I go to my chambers, Sir?" I stammered, my heart in my throat, when Mingi had left.

"No," he glanced at me once. "It shouldn't take long."

Minutes later, Prince Jongho came in with Wooyoung in tow. It was odd and I couldn't help but hold my breath as I stepped back to give them space. Yunho had never, ever let me stay before when he had to discuss anything involving the kingdom and right now, I didn't even know what to do.

"Well?" Yunho asked impatiently when nobody said a single word.

"Brother," Jongho stared at me pointedly. I cowered, his glare had the same quality that Yunho has, except his was deadlier. "Do you wish to proceed with her in the room?"

I sighed softly, between the two of them, the Second had always been more vocal about his hatred towards me, so this comes as no surprise anyway. "Why not? This has everything to do with her, no?" Yunho leaned over and looked at his brother with a challenge. "Or do you just have a habit of contradicting me every chance you get, Jongho?"

I know that look, and I hated it. It was rhetorical; he was waiting for you to fail so he could strike. It was what made him more terrifying than his brother or anyone else, for that matter. "You know that's not what I mean," Jongho gritted his teeth. "Her father---"

"I know who her father is," Yunho banged the table loudly with his fist, the sound of it making me jump up slightly. The silence in the room was deafening, even Wooyoung who was usually the one who deescalated everything didn't utter a single word.

"You should have been King, Jongho," Yunho smirked sarcastically, the veins on his neck almost popping in anger. "Having said that, my prisoner is perfectly capable of shutting her mouth. Come here, Y/N."

I was a deer in headlights. Why was he asking me to come over? I had no time to wonder, my feet had a mind of their own and started walking towards the King. I lowered my head when Jongho's glaring eyes followed my every move until I was directly in front of Yunho. "Sit down," he commanded. I was confused and looked around helplessly until Yunho shook his head and pointed at his lap. "Here."

My eyes widened and my face began to heat up wildly at the suggestion. He was such an enigma to me - one moment he would be this close to actually ending my life, and the other he would do things that confused my heart. I was used to his humiliation and unfortunately, everyone else was also used to Yunho doing so. It wouldn't be the first time in front of Wooyoung, but it would be in front of Jongho. I sat gingerly on Yunho's thigh, my cheeks reddening gradually in an intimate position.

"See?" Yunho mocked as he snaked his arm around my waist. "She's such a good girl."

Both Wooyoung and Jongho's face wore an initial shock and they turned their heads to avoid looking at me and the King. I know why he was doing this - it was to show that I do whatever it is that is told of me, no matter how humiliating and degrading it was. This was how he was. He had no problem dehumanizing me. I just had no idea how far he'd go sometimes. What's more is that it was also to keep everyone in check. Right now, Wooyoung and Jongho looked extremely uncomfortable.

I yelped when Yunho lifted my waist a little to position me properly on his lap and my buttocks was directly above his nether regions. My breath kept hitching at every single move and I could have sworn I stopped breathing when he leaned my back towards his chest, the heat of him directly seeping onto me. "Proceed," he commanded. It was one word, yet it held so much weight. I shuddered when his warm breath tickled my skin. He chuckled softly.

The hesitation was clear on Wooyoung's face, but he cleared his throat and proceed to the talk about all the affairs, specifically about Aurora, and alternated speaking with Jongho. They were still uncomfortable, but I could tell they were ignoring what was happening just so they could get out of the room quickly. "You're going to be good and stay still, right?" Yunho whispered on my ear low enough so only I could hear.

I squirmed and tried to turn away but his dark eyes held me captive. I nodded slightly and he gave me a lazy smirk. A zing of pleasure shot through me, I have never seen Yunho's face do anything other than frown or scowl.

"Tell me all of the infrastructural damage and the cost," Yunho stated, his lips getting dangerously close to my neck.

"Right away," Jongho grumbled, clearly displeased at the scene unfolding before him, and began to recite everything.

I couldn't concentrate on any of what they were talking about, my heart was about to leap out of my chest and I was afraid that I couldn't catch it. I bit my lip hard when he leaned in and placed his lips on my neck. Something stirred inside of me as his mouth moved slowly and surely as if he had done this before. I made eye contact with Wooyoung but he just turned away, his face holding extreme discomfort. I gripped my dress tightly in my hands when I felt him lightly suck on a certain part of my skin and wetness pooled down my core. It was an unexplainable feeling and I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. I let out a tiny whimper and everybody freezes. Yunho pulls away and I shut my eyes in pure embarrassment.

"Get out," Yunho growled lowly. It was all Jongho and Wooyoung needed. They both ran out of the room in record time as if something terrible was chasing them down. Yunho took one good look at me and demanded. "Get on the bed, Y/N."

Shivers worked down my spine as I quickly got off him and climbed towards the bed. Soon enough, the bed dipped down and then his body blanketed over me. He suddenly grabbed my hair and my eyes automatically swelled with hot tears. But I felt no fear. I didn't understand what I was feeling, but it wasn't fear.

And then we were kissing. Or rather, he was claiming my lips. That one lesson I had with Wooyoung did nothing to prepare me with his onslaught. Yunho was rough, there was no emotion behind the gesture. His goal was to take what he wants without giving me anything in return.

"You can do better than this," he murmured, my bottom lips between his.

Tears filled my eyes, but my heart soared. I was so confused about what I was feeling and it was making me extremely emotional. I felt my head grow weary with the realization of what I was feeling, though I wasn't too sure. That 'lesson' with Wooyoung did nothing to prepare me for this. I let out a small moan when his tongue started to play with mine, much to my shame and helplessness. There was not any sound or grunt from him.

And then he just stopped. He leaned his forehead on mine and I breathed his scent in. It was a mistake because I knew I would look for it from now on and I can't just get it when I wanted - no, needed - it. He got off and laid down next to me, his eyes watching me, and I watching him in return.

"You are my prisoner and you should never forget that," he rasped. My heart was in my throat and I was about to apologize, when he continued. "But today, I'm going to pretend you are not."

I was too sleepy to comprehend anything, my body was slowly giving out because it was like Yunho sucked my soul out of me with his onslaught. I realized that he, too, looked worn out. I wanted to say something, anything, but the fatigue was slowly catching up to me.

"Sleep," he whispered. As I slowly fell into a slumber, I felt an arm pull me closer to a warm body. Yunho felt warm, I needed his warmth. I craved it, and I don't understand why.

"These are actually beautiful, you did a great job," San smiled as I led him through the garden and showed him the strip of flowers I planted. "You have talent for this, Y/N."

"Thank you," I giggled daintily. "It's all because of you I was able to work in the gardens."

It's been closer to a year now ever since Aurora had been conquered and I was imprisoned as collateral. Lately, I've been working mostly in the royal gardens after the old caretaker had passed away. Most of the servants did not understand the language of flowers so I took it upon myself to take over. Well, San pulled a few strings.

"I have to get going now," San sighed. "The King sent me to Wonderland for some business, I'm afraid you won't be able to see me for a couple of months."

I nodded in understanding. "Take care. Would you please kindly tell Kim Hongjoong my greetings?"

I don't see Hongjoong a lot but he does come visit often. I've yet to figure out how I knew him from before, I still haven't figured it out, but he's been a wonderful company; very different from all the hate I've been receiving.

"Oof!"

I groaned in surprise when a child no older than four stumbled onto the ground, but not before accidentally hitting my legs. I quickly got down on my knees and helped the poor child. "Are you okay?" I asked worriedly and dusted off the dirt from her clothes.

"I-I'm lost, I can't find my mommy," the little child's lips quivered as small tears fell from her chubby cheeks.

"You poor thing," I cooed. "Come, why don't we look for your mommy?"

I quickly held the little girl's small hands into mine as we ventured off. The royal garden was vast, it took me a while to get used to it too and got lost on multiple occasions as well. I took her to the exit where all the servants gathered, and sure enough, one particular woman was frantically running around and asking people if they had seen a child wander off that was no older than four years old. When she saw me, her face went pale as a ghost even as her child slowly ran off to her mother's embrace. She quickly ran to me and bowed repeatedly, leaving me aghast.

"I'm so sorry about my child, Aurorean princess!" the mother cried out. "Please don't punish us!"

It was as if my chest had been hit with something heavy. It hurt to see that my father had left these people with long lasting impressions of trauma that they were not able to leave behind so easily. I felt a sense of remorse, even though I knew that none of this was my fault. "It's Y/N," I offered her a small, tight smile. "I am no longer a princess. Your child got lost and I was hoping we'd find you here."

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief and apprehension filled her expression. I can't say I blame her, but it never meant that none of this hurt. I bent down eye level to the now smiling child as she held onto her mother's dress. "Here, take it," I gave her a pink rose. "I really like this flower, can you keep it safe for me?"

The child happily accepted the rose and I bowed slightly to the mother before I walked off. "Good day, miss."

It was odd how one gesture set off everything. As I walked away, I couldn't help but hear the gasps of surprise and all the whispers I heard along the way.

"That's her, right? That prisoner princess?"

"I thought for sure she was going to punish everyone here!"

"Why is she not acting like her bastard father?"

That day set off something I never, ever expected when I first came here. One day, a group of people from the kitchen approached me and asked if I wanted to try and make food for the servants. "Of course," I smiled brightly. I could see the shocked expressions on their faces when I agreed. "Lead the way."

I had the best meal of my life in that kitchen, not because of the food, but because of the company I had. It was interesting, the crazy part was that I helped that child because I wanted to. It started a spiral of events, and soon enough, I was able to walk through the halls with less glares and most acceptance from the servants.

Joy filled my heart every night before I went to bed at the thought of me and most of the servants getting along. I learned their stories, apologized profusely on behalf of my father. I will never get used to their dumbfounded expression, but it was worth it if I gained a companion or two afterwards. It just intensified all the anger and hatred I had against my father. These were innocent people, he had no business killing for his own gain, torture people for more monetary gain. It was sick, and it made my stomach churn at the thought.

Suddenly, in came the Head Knight. Everyone bowed and he did the same. "Y/N," he began. "The King requests for you."

This was another thing I never expected. "You're getting along with everyone pretty well," Mingi stated as we walked along the familiar halls of the palace. "I'm glad."

"I love the people," I said truthfully. "Everyone seems so full of life and full of love, regardless of what everyone has been through."

Mingi gave me a genuine smile. "Now you understand why Yunho is the way he is with this kingdom." He opened the door for me and ushered me to get in. "Thank you very much, Mingi. I will see you around."

"Sit down," Yunho ordered the moment the door was closed.

I did as told and he gave me a scroll and a quill to write with. I looked at him confused until he spoke up. "What's your writing proficiency?"

I hesitated, but he most likely knew the answer already. He just needed to hear it from me. "I can rival scholars, My King."

He hummed, satisfied. He handed me a couple of books. "These are both about Dune and Aurora," he explained. "Find common ground and write them so I can compare them with each other. Questions?"

"No," I shook my head. "Thank you for the opportunity, Sir..."

He didn't respond and I didn't know what to say anyway so I kept my mouth shut. I began reading and scribbling what I could, slower than I thought since I haven't done anything academic in over a year by now. We worked in silence, and it was much appreciated since there were some things I had to translate, but I tried my best to concentrate and put a lot of effort into every word I did.

He was a good and wise king, he did what was best for his people and it was what my father hated about him the most. It had become a habit for me the more Yunho had summoned me to do more writing.

"For what do I have a prisoner for if you're not going to do some actual work in here?" Yunho would always bite back whenever I always asked him why. He was an intelligent man, I'd come to figure out. He was very eloquent with his writing, very meticulous and well-versed. Not to mention that my heart would always skip a beat whenever I glanced at him while he wrote some more.

"Sorry to bother, Sir, but I don't know what this means," I frowned as I lifted up the manuscript.

"Let me see," Yunho beckoned me over with a wave of a hand. He took one look at it. "Those are symbols of an old language. You need another source to translate."

It had become a favourite activity of mine and I always looked forward to it everyday. There were no words between us, no mockery, no harsh words, and I wasn't a prisoner even for a minute. "This isn't right," I mumbled a little louder than I thought. I covered my mouth when I realized what I did, but it was too late. Yunho was already staring at me.

"What isn't?"

I blushed in embarrassment and the sudden attention. "Your Highness, I-I just translated something really awful in my point of view." He urged me to continue. "The suffering of the common people," I gulped. "A transliteration of how."

He stared at me for a moment. I couldn't read his expression so I wasn't sure if he was angry or not. "And what about it?"

"The monarchy is meant for the people, for the people. What would be their other purpose? I-I understand that they're there for order, but why are the people still suffering?"

Yunho stared at me with a demeanor I couldn't read, but then again, he was never an open book. Or at least, not yet. I held his eye contact, unblinking. He breaks it, nodding painfully slow. He sighed. "The rules aren’t run by us. This world was built on hate and has always been morally bankrupt," Yunho explained. "If it was the opposite, you wouldn't be here."

It was such a morbid point of view yet it was so realistic. He hummed. "And you with the righteous mind. There were many before you, yet the natural evil that is human nature slowly takes over. What makes you so different?"

There was so much to admire about this man yet I don't know where to begin. His words were always this force that always made me want to listen to him - he was that compelling. The fact that he was aware of the vulnerability of the world was so compassionate, but I knew it was born from the suffering that was my father.

No other words need be spoken. I resumed working on whatever Yunho gave me, concentrating on the work because deep inside, I wanted to please him. I didn't let anything disturb me, not the taunts of some nobles coming in and out, not Seonghwa commenting in surprise on how pretty my handwriting was, and not even when I was told to stop. I gave Yunho the scroll I filled out so he could inspect it. My hands were aching by the time I was done, but it was absolutely worth it.

He stared at me intensely and I couldn't help but flush under his gaze. "Come here," he commanded softly. I did as told. "Would you like to stop writing or do you wish to continue?" Yunho asked. His eyes said everything, he was waiting for me to say no.

"I would like to continue if it's okay, My King," I answered. Yunho nodded. His usual expression of disdain was nowhere to be seen and there was something in his eyes - tenderness. He sat up and lowered my body a little and I closed my eyes out of reflex, but mostly because I was scared I'd do something I'd regret if I looked at him.

"Good," Yunho I heard him say. And then, he kissed my forehead softly. Butterflies flipped my stomach upside down. I could hardly believe what was happening. I expected a lot from Jeong Yunho, but certainly not this. His lips lingered and I savoured the feeling. It was worth it. "T-Thank you, Sir," I stammered.

"Continue writing," Yunho pulled away as if nothing had happened. But I couldn't concentrate on anything after.

I still felt his lips on my skin and the very thought of it jumbled my mind into a frenzy. It went on like that until late at night. I felt my body giving up and a small yawn escaped from my lips. My eyes kept closing in on me but I caught myself before they fully closed for the night. I could feel Yunho's eyes on me and I was concerned if he was going to say anything, but he kept on watching. I decided to let my head rest a bit and leaned on the table. It was a mistake, all the exhaustion came crawling onto me and sleep went in and out of my system.

"Who's out there?" I heard Yunho's voice call out.

I heard the door creak open and close but the sleepiness had rendered my body weak. "Yun?" a voice answered back. I knew it was Seonghwa again. It was fascinating, everybody dropped the honorifics when they thought nobody was around to listen.

"Carry her to bed."

I felt myself being carried and I welcomed the warmth Seonghwa had provided me. He started walking, but Yunho's voice sounded again. "Not her bed, Hwa. Mine."

"Oh?" Seonghwa was confused, but he did as told anyway. He laid me down on the familiar bed and I automatically inhaled the scent the sheets had to offer me. "Good enough?"

"You may leave."

There it was, the stony edge on his voice. It was what I was used to. But it was like the universe had other plans for both of us. I felt the bed dip and Yunho's voice would be the last thing I heard before I completely fell asleep. "I should have killed you a long time ago before you started messing with my head."

It was, without a doubt, the most peaceful sleep I have ever had in my entire twenty-three years of living. When I woke up the next day, I felt myself being shaken awake. At first, I thought it was Yunho finally getting sick of my insolence and kicking me out but, instead, two familiar faces met my eyes.

"Yeosang?" I sat up so quickly that I started to get a migraine. "Hongjoong? What are you guys doing?"

I was about to rub the sleep off my eyes but I frowned when I realized that my hands were bandaged. I looked at Yeosang in affection. A thought suddenly passed me and I turned to Hongjoong. "Does this mean San is back if you're here?"

"Of course," Hongjoong smiled. He paused for a bit. "I told him not to come here. I...wanted to talk to you about something. I'll make it quick before my nephew comes back."

My brows rise in confusion and a bit of paranoia. "I-I'm just a prisoner, there's nothing I could help you with," I nervously said. "Do I know your nephew?"

Hongjoong and Yeosang look at each other. "You don't know?" Yeosang asked in disbelief. I shook my head, thoroughly confused now. I took a good look at Hongjoong and that sense of familiarity comes back to me. I realized that he looks slightly familiar, too.

"Your King is my nephew," Hongjoong began to explain. "The former king, Yunho and Jongho's father, was my eldest brother. We had different mothers, however. My father had me late because of his...peculiar hobbies."

My mind began to shut down, and perhaps it was the shock. Now I know who this man was and why he's so familiar. I quickly stood up from the bed and bowed low at Hongjoong repeatedly and in panic. "Forgive my insolence, Your Majesty of Wonderland! I am terribly---"

Hongjoong - or rather, the honourable ruler of Wonderland - chuckled and urged me to sit back down on the bed. "I'm not like that. Plus, I owe you something, do you recall?"

I nodded at him and then slightly shook my head, signaling that I do remember, but I refuse to talk about it right now. He seemed to take the hint and quickly changed the subject before Yeosang questioned us both. "Right, now that's settled," he cleared his throat. "I'll be straight with you, you don't belong here, so I'm going to get you out of here."

You could hear a pin drop with how silent the room had become. Did I hear him correctly? "I-I'm sorry?"

"Yeo, go watch out for that brat," Hongjoong cocks his head towards the door. Yeosang took the hint and left.

"Please tone it down," I yelped. "I-I don't want you to get punished..."

Hongjoong blinked at me before laughing. "Don't worry, Yunho won't do anything. He can try. Your concern is appreciated though."

I frowned, unconvinced. For the whole year I've been with Yunho, I could tell that he will retaliate if anybody crosses him. He is very patient yet he has a short fuse. His unpredictability scares me sometimes. "You've been here for a year?" he asked. I nodded. "Yet that air of royalty never left you. When I first saw you here, I thought you were visiting as a princess. Imagine my surprise when I was told you were a prisoner of war."

"I don't understand," I frowned.

"Being royalty doesn't stop at status," Hongjoong softly said. "It's the way you talk, the way you walk, the way you move. Your blood never lies."

He paused. "You need to go back to Aurora. You're the only hope we have at this point."

My eyes widened at what he was trying to tell me. "B-But doesn't Dune own Aurora?"

"Yes and no," he explained. "Thun about it, why hasn't Yunho transitioned Aurora over to Dune? Aurora is about half a day away by horse carriage, it's not that far. You know the man he is, Y/N. When he wants something done, it will happen no matter how long it takes."

Hongjoong hit the nail on the coffin. I've been thinking about this for a while now but I was too afraid to bring it up to anyone.

"But he will do it," I sighed. "I've been working with him for a while now, there's official paperwork that says so."

"Which is why you have to go before that happens," he convinced, and by God, he is very good at it. "Please, Y/N, you are the queen Aurora needs to finish this damn war---"

"How?" I couldn't help but raise my voice. "Yunho owns me, don't you see it?"

"It's what I don't see," Hongjoong raised a brow. "He doesn't fully own you. You have no slave marking on."

I froze. I wanted to tell him that I didn't mean it that way and Yunho owns me in another sort of bind, but I keep my mouth shut. Of all the people in this world, I was the most aware of the slave collar. My father made everyone wear it. "Aren't you tired of this cycle, princess?" Hongjoong was getting agitated. "This imprisonment bullshit, it's a never ending cycle that won't stop until somebody steps up."

"But why me?" I exasperatedly question.

"Why not you?" Hongjoong retorted. "I am only one king, Y/N, and I cannot do this alone. I hate to bring this up, but the damage your father had inflicted, don't you want to stop it?"

I scoffed before I could stop myself. "Stop manipulating me."

Hongjoong smirked. "You see that sass and observation, Y/N? Imprisonment will never erase the royalty in you. All I want is simple, so as everyone who has suffered for so long," he practically begged. "You have my word that nobody will hurt you, all we want is for you to go back to Aurora and undo everything that's happened."

I narrowed my eyes on him. "We?"

A smirk threatens to spill from his lips but he covers it by clearing his throat. "Yes," he said. "There's people who want peace, and we're working towards it, but we need your cooperation."

I bit my lip, deep in thought. Well, that certainly changes things. "Do you have any idea what's going on with Aurora right now?" I asked, dreading the answer.

Hongjoong heaved a weighted sigh. "They need a permanent ruler," he whispered. "My people and yours have always worked in harmony. What your father did does not constitute Auroreans as a whole. They deserve peace too, you know that."

My heart sank. He didn't want to say it out loud, but he was basically saying that Aurora is currently in a state of disarray. A trickle of shame drops onto my soul. I got so used to being here that I fully accepted the fate handed to me. What happened to the strong Y/N who swore to always fight for what was right? Hongjoong only stared at me as I went through all the stages of grief and hesitation. So, escape, take over Aurora as its rightful ruler, and make peace with Dune. Simple, right?

Wrong. Yunho would kill me first.

"C-Can I think about it, at least?" I looked up at Hongjoong. "This is a little too much for me to take in right now..."

He nodded. "Of course, this is too sudden. I'm so sorry for bringing all of this upon you, princess. I really am."

"How would I tell you?" I followed Hongjoong as he went to the door.

He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "You'll know how to eventually."

I stood by the door for a lot longer than I intended to when Hongjoong had already left. I wanted to tell him, I really did, but how was I supposed to tell him that my hesitation is from my unwillingness to actually leave? I've grown attached to the people here, but the most dreadful out of them all, my want to serve and please Yunho has been growing by the minute.

On the other hand, my people back home are waiting for me. They were the people I lived for even after my imprisonment. Hongjoong's point was impossible to ignore - this cycle between wars and this never ending hate against one another has to stop. Suddenly, the room was suffocating. I decided to step out and walk around for fresh air. It was something I did when I needed to think.

I should get an opinion, but I didn't know who to ask, though. I didn't want to bother Yeosang anymore, San would be okay but I bet he's tired from his journey, Seonghwa would raise a brow at my insolence and Wooyoung might behead me. Mingi's a no-go since he's always with Yunho.I sighed, it looks like I have to Yeosang or San one more time. As I walked further and further, I realized that I had mistakenly gone into the forest-y area. I'd never ventured this far and now I was upset that I was lost.

"Looking for something, princess?"

Warning bells went off my head. That wasn't a familiar voice. I turned around and saw a couple of unknown men that had gathered, and they were all glaring at me. "If the King won't kill you, we will," one of them spat. "How dare you show your face in here after everything we've been through?!"

My heart pounded at the danger I was in. I knew there would still be people who despised me, but it still hurt to hear.

"Get her!"

Before I could do anything, two men grabbed my arms and started to drag me out in the open. "W-Wait, unhand me!"

My breathing turned from heaving to full on hyperventilation. Before I could scream, a rag was put in my mouth to gag me and my screams afterwards were swallowed into nothing. My insides quivered in fear when I was pushed down harshly, though I tried not to get intimidated. I groaned when my hair was grabbed and tugged roughly. "I can't wait to carve your face," one of the men hissed directly on my face. "You look so much like your father, it pisses me off."

The fire in my soul died at that very instant. Was this truly the end for me?

"Get down on your knees to beg and maybe we won't hurt you," one of them propositioned. Everyone laughed out loud at that statement. It was at the moment that my resolve hardened - there was no way I was going to sell my dignity, or what's little of it, right here. When they realized that I wasn't going to move, all hell broke loose. "You fucking bitch, come here!"

My eyes widened when I saw a glint of something metallic in the air, but it was too late. The pain was out of this world, never in my life would I have imagined that the very first time I'd see a dagger up closer was when it was digging into my skin. "Help, please!" I screamed momentarily when I spit the gag out.

They were taking turns carving my body up, until I just became numb to it. They got angrier when my scream stopped. Even Yunho wasn't this cruel.

Suddenly, a figure showed up at the very far end of the clearing. It was Prince Jongho. His face paled and his expression was aghast. I knew from that far it was obvious what was happening. And then, he just left. I smiled bitterly despite the pain. I don't even blame him because my father killed his brother in front of him. His hatred for me knows now bounds.

"What the fuck are you savages doing?! Stop what you're doing!"

Everything stopped in that moment as I felt the light slowly slipping away from my world. No, I knew I wasn't dying, it was perhaps my body shutting down due to extreme pain and trauma. I looked up to see everyone staring at none other than Wooyoung, another person who hated me with extreme intensity. Had he actually stopped these people from hurting me? I didn't understand. He marched over but a voice stopped him from moving.

"You're supposed to be knights, you motherfuckers, stand down!" Mingi's deep, angry voice boomed all throughout the clearing. His furious strides quickly reached us. I have never seen him this angry and it terrified me.

"My Prince, what are you doing here?" I heard Wooyoung's soft voice

"What do you think?" Jongho snapped. "I'm the one who called Mingi, I had to get Yunho too, fuck, he's going to get so pissed..."

So Jongho didn't leave after all. These three were the ones who hated me the most, and now they were here at my weakest moment. Mingi's angry voice was so loud that it attracted attention from other people. "You incredible fuckers, you know what I'm going to do to you all?!" he screamed. "Stick my fucking feet up your asses and walk around like you're flip-flops! Knights!"

A couple of other knights came in and detained the perpetrators aside. I tried to keep my eyes open and they were open enough for me to see what was going on. "Goddamn it," Wooyoung hissed as he helped me sit down. "I'll have to stay here and wait for Yunho."

Mingi stepped up and began to take me in his arms. "I'll take her out of here," he murmured. And then, he was carrying me. While everybody was distracted, I saw one of the men about to throw a dagger at me and Mingi's direction. A shot of adrenaline burst through me and I shouted, "Watch out!"

A look of panic crosses Mingi's face and he had no time to avoid it. But the knife didn't hit us. This was reminiscent of a theatre play with how things were turning up. Everybody pales and for a moment, everything goes silent. I was able to fully internalize everything. I realized I was bleeding profusely and so was Mingi and Wooyoung since they touched me, and that there was another presence.

Yunho heaved an irritated sigh as he stared at his bleeding hand, the one he used to catch the dagger. He turned to me, his face holding no expression. He hands me the dagger. “Kill them," he instructed. Everyone's breath hitched as they waited for my decision.

My mind was a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions. "I-I can't," I wheezed out.

Yunho raised a brow in amusement. "Justice isn't always merciful," he said. "They would kill you in a heartbeat."

I shook my head, the little movement making me dizzy. "That's n-not what I meant," I whispered hoarsely. "Y-You do it. Take the lead and reign over me, Yunho."

He nodded slowly. "Take them to the adjoining room of my office," he instructed Wooyoung. They share a knowing look and Wooyoung walks away. Yunho turned back to Mingi. “My chambers."

I closed my eyes and let myself lay limp in Mingi's arms. Every move hurt no matter how careful he was, but I dare not complain. It certainly caught the attention of some people and I could hear gasps and barely contained anger at my condition. By this, I could hear Yeosang panicking and running off to get his medicinal supply ready. I cracked my eyes open for a little and was not surprised by the amount of people already staring at us. I was just in time to see familiar faces, too.

"What the hell is all this commotion?" Seonghwa was aggravated when he went to the front. He took one good look at me and the blood from his face drained. "Oh, God..."

I was so embarrassed to be seen this way - weak, vulnerable, and helpless. When we entered the chambers, Hongjoong was there waiting. He looked like he was about to say something to Yunho and then he saw me being laid down on the bed. "What happened?" he asked. I don't care who filled him in and he sighed in understanding when he was fully informed.

"Alright everybody, get out unless you're going to volunteer to help out," Yeosang announced before sitting on the side of the bed.

"What do you want me to do?" Seonghwa rolled his sleeves up and sat down next to Yeosang as Hongjoong left to go to the room next to Yunho's office. I was so surprised, he had always been impartial towards me. And speaking of Yunho, he was just leaning by the door, silently watching as his eyes took everything that was happening. I was fine with that, I didn't need to hear him scolding me. Or was I afraid of his disappointment?

"Okay, so it seems that the damages were done mostly to her arms," Yeosang murmured. "Hold them up so I can clean them up."

Seonghwa does as told. I bit my lip harshly as tears fell from my eyes at the sting from the herbs being used to disinfect my wounds.

"Wait a minute," Mingi suddenly murmured, his brows scrunching up as he looked closer at my arm. "There's a pattern, letters---oh my god."

"What?" Seonghwa takes a look and his mouth hangs. It's rare for him to lose composure. He turns around to look behind him. "Yunho..."

Yunho stared at my arm for a solid minute before he turned around and went into the room where Hongjoong was, but he left the door ajar a bit. Loud voices can be heard from the inside. My heart lurched to my throat. I pulled my arm to try and see, but Seonghwa gently grabbed my chin and tilted it up while he shook his head. "Don't look," he said softly. "For your own sake."

"I-It's bad, isn't it?" I croaked.

Yeosang held my hand and squeezed it. "By the time we're done, it will be gone, okay? I have methods to heal without leaving scars, don't you worry."

"You son of a bitch, what makes us different?!"

We all stared at the direction of all the arguments that were slowly becoming louder and louder. It was Hongjoong, and he was furious.

"B-But, her father was a monster---"

"Save it."

The hard edge on that voice surprised me, for this person has nothing but sweet and accommodating to me. It was San.

"I feel bad for those assholes," Yeosang laughed sarcastically to lift my mood up. "San is a little more unforgiving when angry."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!" Hongjoong hissed. "She's the last person you should've done this too, I am extremely disappointed with all of you!" My breath hitched, I sighed, bracing for what's next because I know exactly what he's going to say.

"During captivity, that princess you hate? She would feed everybody, teach everyone to survive after escape, cover for anyone so they wouldn't be punished. She was going against her father!"

Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi all whipped their heads towards me. I closed my eyes to avoid them.

"You know what else?" Hongjoong chuckled darkly. "She gambled her life to help me escape when I was captured without knowing who I was. Hell, she didn't even remember who I was when she first saw me here.".

"But it doesn't erase anything that happened before, oh forgive our insolence, Your Majesty!"

Another round of arguments could be heard and Yeosang finally wrapped my arms, but not before I saw what they had carved on my skin - disgrace.

"That's enough."

There it was, the voice that always made me want to drop on my knees. There was a tense silence. "I killed the Aurorean King so we could be at peace," Yunho started. "I understand why you did it, but she is mine, and mine alone.”

I was startled and jumped a bit when the door opened to reveal Yunho. We made eye contact before he spoke. "It brings me deep sadness that all of you resorted to this brutality," he spoke, the weight of his words heavy. "We've all been through so much, but the day I see the monster the Aurorean King was in any of you, is the day I let all of you go. All of you, get out."

He turned to this room and spoke to no one in particular. "All of you as well, out."

And then it was just me and Yunho in the room, staring at each other intently. "M-My King," I whimpered at his sharp gaze. He raised a brow. "You had no problem calling me by name earlier," he made his way towards the bed. "Don't do it again."

I vaguely remember doing it and I had no idea why I even did it. His air of authority blanketed me as he got closer and closer until he was sitting on the bed. He didn't say anything for a while. "Never forget who you are," he said curtly and firmly. "The world will try you, it will grind you down until you are no more."

I stared at him and saw him in a different light for the first time. He wasn't a royalty, a king, and my captor - he was just Jeong Yunho. Tears started to collect in my eyes. I tried to turn away but Yunho grabbed my chin and tilted it to his face. "The scars will fade," he murmured. "Mine did."

Yunho pulled me onto his body and wrapped an arm around me. Something broke in me and it covered the shock I felt, I just burst right there and then. His other hand patted my back as sobs racked my entire body. It hurt, everything hurt. I've always imagined what it would be like to be in his arms. It was unfortunate that it had to be this way, but it didn't stop me from clutching his shirt and crying miserably. "You're very cold," I muttered in between tears.

"Am I cold or maybe you just don't deserve my warmth?"

"Forgive my i-insolence, Your Majesty."

"Sometimes, when people don't get what they want, they can’t stand the thought of limitations," Yunho sighed.

After a while, I recovered. I spent a lot of my time either in my room to be alone or Yunho's. He would give me a book to read so I could pass the time and it confused my heart so much. But after that, I haven't seen him much. His workload caught up with him and lately, I've been all alone either organizing what he asked me to or simply just basking in the gardens where all the servants spent time with me.

It made me happy that everyone had become warm towards me and was even angry at the knights that had hurt me, but I couldn't help but miss the time I spent with Yunho, even if all he did was glare or snarl at me. Right now, I was at Yeosang's clinic so could check up on me.

"Thank you, Sangie, you're always there for me," I smiled gratefully at him.

He stares at me a bit confused. "Uhm, yeah, no problem, but I'm not the one you should thank the most," he frowned. "Yunho would have beheaded me."

"W-What do you mean?" I asked, my heart beating uncontrollably hard.

"He was the one that kept sending me to you whenever you were injured," he shrugged. "You didn't know?"

My heart palpitated and my stomach did somersaults. Does this mean that he's not going to kill me anymore? "By the way," Yeosang interrupted my darkening thoughts. He dug through his arsenal and brought out an envelope. "This is about your escape."

I sat up straighter in attention. "From Hongjoong?"

Yeosang shook his head. "No, from our head."

"Head?" I titled my head in curiosity. "What does that mean?"

"It means that we take orders from someone higher than us," Yeosang chuckled. "Someone wants you out of here more than us. Now, run along. I have to tend to the King."

I froze and I felt my throat tighten up again. "W-Why? Is anything wrong with him?" Yeosang blinked at me and grimaced. Something tells me that I wasn't supposed to know, and that he assumed I knew. "Kang Yeosang..."

When he still didn't say a word, I bolted out of the room like my life depended on it. I didn't even turn back once. I didn't let it worry me though. The King was an abnormally strong person, so I'm sure he'll be fine. I went to his chambers and unsurprisingly, he wasn't there. I knew he wasn't avoiding me, he didn't care enough for me to do so. I went to my chambers and left the letter in there for now. Suddenly, I heard the familiar sound of the doors opening and closing. Yunho.

I was surprised to see him enter, but I was quickly taken aback by how pale he looked. I tried to stop the fluttering feeling in my stomach at the sight of him because it was the first time I've ever seen him look even remotely sick. When I observed him closer, his breathing was laboured and she seemed to be in great pain. I looked at his bandaged arm and it hit me - his hand was wounded when he caught that dagger!

I completely forgot about that and not once had he got it treated the whole time I was recovering and knowing him, he would never ask for help. My body started moving on its own and I quickly rushed to him and held his arm. I almost pulled away, his skin was burning hot. He was surprised to see me. He stiffened and pulled away from me harshly, glaring at me angrily. "What the hell are you doing?" he snarled. "Just because I haven't punished you in a while doesn't mean I won't hesitate to do it again."

"I-I'm so sorry, My King," I apologized instantly.

He didn't say anything and proceeded to sit down on his bed. It was then I realized how sick he was and he was probably burning up with fever. This might be my death sentence but I pushed forward again and held his wounded hand in mine. I frowned, it was definitely infected. "Y/N," he gritted. His tone held a lot of anger.

"Please let me help you," I begged.

"Do you want to die?" he growled through gritted teeth.

I gulped in anxiety. "You can kill me after," I whispered. "Let me help, please..."

He stared at me, unblinking, his eyes penetrating parts of me I had no idea existed before. It made me uncomfortable, but I never broke eye contact to show my sincerity. "One wrong move," he seethed, his voice dropping an octave lower. "I will kill you on the spot."

I smiled brightly before I could stop myself. I quickly stood up and bowed repeatedly. "Oh, I won't let you down!" I gasped. "Please lie down, I will fetch some cloth and water for you."

I was happier than I was supposed to be and quickly got to work before Yunho changed his mind. I got slightly cold water and some cloth and went back, but when I did, I was surprised to see that Yunho had fallen asleep on his bed. I quietly approached him and set down the water and cloth to the side and stared at him. I had never seen him asleep before. Whenever we slept on the bed, he was always up before me. He was hauntingly beautiful, something I know I can never have.

I dipped the cloth in the cold water and proceeded to dab it gently on his forehead and all over his exposed skin so he could cool off. When I reached his face, I was careful not to wake him. This was the only opportunity he had to rest and I don't want to disturb him. I went on like that for hours, going back and forth in the bathroom to refill the water so it doesn't go too warm. But it was no use. He was still burning up. Without hesitation, I undid the buttons on his shirt and dabbed it gently with the cloth as well. He would probably punish me for this when he awoke, but I could care less.

My heart dropped when I stared at his bare chest. The branding scar was there, but besides the few battle scars on him, his skin was otherwise smooth and toned. I set it aside for now, and focused on making him feel better, even though I knew that he wasn't awake to feel it for now. I leaned down to give the scar a small kiss and set my head down on his chest, just feeling his skin with mine. His heart had a steady rhythm, and tears fell slowly down my eyes and onto his chest.

I love him, I had fallen for him, and it hurt so much. I don't know how it happened or when it even started, but my heart held him in it and the realization made my heart shatter into a million pieces. Yunho wasn't someone I should have had feelings for. He captured me, imprisoned me, and hurt me before, but why do I even feel like this? It would never end well for me, and I knew he would break my heart. He was the king, and he harboured hatred for my father so intense that even my life wasn't enough to pay for it.

I jolted away and wiped my tears quickly when I heard Yunho groan and then he moved ever so slightly. He sat down and stared at me. Then, he looked down at his open shirt and quickly buttoned them up. He looked back at me and sighed. "What is it about you, Y/N?"

I stared at him, blinking repeatedly. "Whatever do you mean, My King?"

He crossed his arms. "I can't figure out if your demon father raised an angel, or if he raised a demon pretending to be an angel?"

The question surprised me and I looked away. "Y-You're awake, Your Grace..."

He smirked at my obvious attempt to change the topic. "Yes. Why? You want me dead?"

My eyes widened at the implication and I shook my head adamantly. "No! I-I don't!"

He shrugged and leaned back. "I'm surprised you didn't strike," he smirked. "Your cowardly father had a habit of killing people in their sleep."

"I won't ever hurt you, Sire."

Then silence, except for the loud beating of my heart - the heart that beat only for him. Yunho stared at me, and stared hard. I was nervous, is he going to punish me for touching him? "Come here," he said softly.

One second I was sitting on the edge of the end, and the next, I was in Yunho's arms, his body caging me in his warmth. I closed my eyes, everything felt so right at this moment. I couldn't even be surprised. I was so happy, but did the happiness outweigh the pain? My faith was walking on broken glass.

A surge of courage came over me and I buried my face on his chest. It didn't matter right now, or if he changed his mind, but right now, all I cared about was this moment between us. It was something I would never get to experience anymore because he won't be, hopefully, sick again for the longest time after this. Good moments were hard to come by as a prisoner, so I will imprint this memory in my heart.

"For the longest time now, I've had this question that's boggling my head," he whispered. "Who do you take after, if not your father?"

"I-I'm not too sure," I answered truthfully.

I looked up at him and he was already looking at me with those beautiful, but clouded eyes. "How are your arms?"

I was a bit surprised he even asked. "They're getting better, they don't hurt as much as they did a couple of weeks ago."

He nodded but didn't say anything else. "Would you like to sleep?" I asked him apprehensively.

"I just woke up," he raised an annoyed brow at me. "I don't like to sleep, it's when my thoughts haunt me the most."

I wouldn't be surprised. For all the things my father did, I would be surprised if nobody had nightmares. Even the king had some. It made my heart bleed once more. "Those years were the hardest times of everybody's lives," Yunho began to speak, his fingers lazily tracing my arms as he stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

I didn't even realize that I was holding my breath. This was the first time he'd ever talked to me like this and it felt so good that he was confiding in me. "As a kingdom, we were always trained and prepared for any sort of attack, you should know this. It was difficult when you're powerless against a tyrant, though."

He gave a side eyed glance and I averted my eyes in shame even though it was not my fault. "But no one was prepared for the aftermath. Nobody knew where to begin and how to move on," he recalled softly, unadulterated pain flashing in his eyes. "There was no way to relax, everyone was paranoid that an attack would happen again."

Tears filled my eyes. I felt every pain that he went through even though I had no idea how extensive they were. Is this what it was like to love someone? It was such a curse. "Everyone has changed so much," he sighed deeply. "San used to be bubbly and a generally happy person. Wooyoung used to be mischievous, he was borderline annoying, but everyone loved him for it."

It was difficult to picture both of them in a different manner and it made me even sadder. "Yeosang had this child-like innocence to him that I can never, ever get back. It was hard to accept at first. Seonghwa had always been the way he is, but he was always smiling. Now it's gone."

"And Mingi," he continued. "He was always my biggest regret. He was just a boy. He used to take my punishments for me. He's become so much like me that I regret ever meeting him."

It began to shed light on why the Head Knight had hated me so much back then. My closest maid, Ilri, and I met when we were twelve years old. Yunho and Mingi most likely met that age as well. "The last two went further and further away from me," Yunho chuckled bitterly. "My brother and I used to be close. I don't even recognize Jongho anymore, and same with my uncle. Captivity changed Hongjoong."

He turned to look at me. "Do you know why I'm telling you all of this?"

"No," I answered with a slight shake of my head.

"Do not betray me, Y/N. I'm letting you in a little, don't prove me wrong by stabbing me in the back."

That sharp edge in my gut strengthened, the one that I thought would dull if time passed enough, and it was then I realized that I cannot leave this man. "Would you like to take your belongings in your chambers and move them in here," Yunho asked, though it was more of a statement rather than one.

My eyes widened and I stared at him. "I-Is that okay, Your Highness?"

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't," he rolled his eyes. "Run along. Do some chores and I'll ask someone to do it."

"Thank you, My King," I bowed to him when I got up from the bed. Everything was too good to be true, that was something I made myself believe as I walked around, lost in thought. My heart hurt from the dilemma. I want to stay with Yunho, even though the best I'll be is to watch from the sides, but at the same time, my people need me - the people of Dune, Wonderland, and the other nations need me.

But even if I did choose to come with Hongjoong, how was I going to start over again? I know nothing about ruling a kingdom, let alone make peace with another kingdom that my own screwed and captured. Tears started falling from my eyes, I have never felt so helpless. Do I choose my happiness or choose the destiny I was always meant to follow?

"Y/N? Are you okay---wait, are you crying?"

The smile from Seonghwa's face disappeared and was replaced with concern. Ever since that day, he's always been very concerned about me. "Did he do anything to you?" he helped me get inside his office.

I shook my head and wiped the tears of my eyes. Of all the people who had to catch me in my feelings, it was Seonghwa. It was so embarrassing for me. "No, but I am very doomed, I am afraid."

He let out a deep sigh. "No offense, but what's worse than Yunho, himself?" Seonghwa deadpanned.

I laughed a bit in between my tears. He and Hongjoong were the only ones who could get away with this. "I'm in love with the King," I blurted out before I backed out. At first, it didn't hit him, but when it did, Seonghwa's eyes widened and he reeled back a little. He was probably expecting something bad, but surely not that one. I wasn't the type to cry. Even he knew I was doomed.

"It's not the end of the world, Y/N, it's okay," he awkwardly tried to cheer me up.

"Yes, but he will end me if he finds out," I frowned deeply. "I'm just a prisoner, and he absolutely abhors my father, and I fell for him anyway! He'll kill me if he finds out."

He handed me a glass of water, which I greedily gulped down. "This isn't the best advice, but in my opinion, the best thing you could possibly do is to set it aside for now."

"Have you ever fallen in love before?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"Of course," he nodded. "Everybody has at some point, everybody has fallen out of love before, and everybody has been hurt before. It's human nature, Y/N."

“Why aren’t you with your love?” I gave him a questioning look and he hesitated.

“They're dead," Seonghwa smiled bitterly. "Childbirth complications."

I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "I-I'm so sorry about that..."

"I couldn't fully hate you, even though I should," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You remind me of my love so, so much."

In the end, I wasn't able to do any sort of chores because Seonghwa refused to let me out with my tear stained face. Suddenly, our peace was broken by a frantic knock on the door. "What's wrong?" Seonghwa asked the knocker, Mingi.

He pushed inside and quickly went to me. "You need to go to Yunho," he panted, his tone gravely. "And you need to go now."

"Hold on," I frowned, my heart thundering against my ribcage. "Why--"

He grabbed my arm and started to pull me. "I have no time to explain, please---"

"Song Mingi, calm down," Seonghwa was irritated. "What is going on?"

"Yunho is going berserk," Mingi growled. Me and Seonghwa looked at each other in surprise. "One minute, he ordered me and Wooyoung to move your stuff, and the next he's a screaming monster set to destroy everything, please you have to go."

A burning pain takes over my entire body and a chill passes over me instantaneously. The world stopped spinning because I had an idea why Yunho was furious. I ran as quickly as I could to Yunho, with Seonghwa and Mingi following, like I was chasing the very last airs of my breath and he was the only one who had it. I prayed as my feet hit the pavement that it wasn't what I thought it was. Destruction met the three of us the moment we entered the room. The furniture was disarray, papers were scattered all over the floor, and an angry King awaited us. When he set his eyes on me, I recoiled from how dark it was.

He took big strides towards me and raised his hand. "Wait, please, do not do it!" Seonghwa screamed while protectively putting me behind him. Yunho threw a piece of paper harshly against our direction and Seonghwa picked it up. Tears started to prick my eyes. I knew it - Yunho had read the letter. I haven't even had the chance to read it.

"Explain," Yunho snapped, his voice tense. He was disheveled, his hair was not fixed for once like he ran his hands over and over again on it and his face was mad with rage. "Explain to me right now or so God help me I will hurt you."

Seonghwa snapped his head at me after he read the letter, his expression of disappointment. "Y/N?" he asked, not wanting to believe anything. "What is this?"

"I can explain---"

"Mingi, call everyone," Yunho snarled. "I need to know who else was planning the great escape of my prisoner."

Mingi was shocked, but he moved nonetheless. "And you," Yunho pointed at me, his voice sounding low and deadly. It sent chills down my spine. "Explain."

I flinched and a tense silence followed. I didn't know what to say. I stared at Yunho, pleading with my eyes, but it was no use. "Say something!" Yunho screamed, banging his hand loudly on his wooden table. Soft cries and whimpers left my mouth. The sight of Yunho broke something inside me. He looked so defeated, so hurt, like a man who had just lost war within himself - like a man betrayed by someone he believed in.

He wasn't just hurt, he was shattered, and it was my fault.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt you, please, I can explain, I really didn't mean to," I begged pathetically for him.

"Then you should have never been born!" Yunho roared loudly, angrily swiping the paperwork in front of him flying, the sheets gradually falling down one by one towards the floor with a swoosh. It was very unnerving. That was the first time I'd ever heard Yunho raise his voice. His eyes were dilated in wild and sheer rage, unleashed without thoughts nor consequences. I will never forget those eyes.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, tripping on my feet when I tried to protest against him, but that only resulted in Yunho dragging me faster and even rougher than before. Suddenly, more footsteps came into the room and more protests resounded.

"Yunho, please, Yunho," I heard the familiar voice of Hongjoong sound. "Stop it, you're hurting her, Yunho!"

My insides contracted and I was left with a heart that exploded in my chest, clammy skin and hyperventilating as I was thrown on the floor. "Shut the fuck up," Yunho snapped, he charged at Hongjoong and gave him a strong punch in the gut. Hongjoong recoiled and coughed out. "You were going to take her away from me?"

If it wasn't for the situation, I would have spent all day thinking about that statement.

"Are you okay?" San's gentle hands helped me up and I leaned helplessly at him while Hongjoong explained to Yunho over and over again why my escape would be beneficial for Dune and everybody. "No," I sobbed loudly. "My heart hurts..."

He looked at me worried. "I will take you to Yeosang---"

"No, not like that. My heart hurts."

San's expression was forlorn when he realized what I was trying to say. "You gave him your heart."

I nodded, but I couldn't even finish my sentence because when I looked back, Yunho was in the process of charging towards Hongjoong. My body moved instinctively and I rushed to him, stopping him by hugging his waist. I yelped when he pushed me harshly. "You whore," he hissed. He pushed me down on my knees so I was kneeling on the floor. "I give you a little bit of kindness and you do this to me? How long have you been planning to stab me in the back?"

I shook my head. "I wasn't going to!"

He scoffed and pulled my hair. He got onto my face directly. "You expect me to believe that? Yunho snarled. "I should have killed you a long, long time ago. I should have branded you and let those dogs carve you up some more."

Something broke inside me, and a fire that was dormant in me sparked awake. I was angry, I had no right to, but I was. "How can you say that?" I growled back. "You're no different from my father if you wish other people to be hurt like you did!"

A moment of pain flashed in Yunho's eyes, but he blinked it away. I shouldn't have said that, but what else can I do? "My only mistake was that I wasn't not be able to cope with your rage, I have always done my best for you," I swallowed thickly, fat tears rolling down my eyes in pain. "If you're going to kill me, then just get it over with."

Is this what Seonghwa meant when he said that love hurts? And speaking of which, Seonghwa, Mingi, Hongjoong, and San were just behind us, just watching, not being able to do anything but just watch the scenes unfold. "Beg me," Yunho pulled my hair harder. "I don't know what I'll do if I don't like what I hear, I swear to God, Y/N."

I shook my head defiantly. "You can bring your army on me, but I won't beg."

Seonghwa was giving me pleading gestures, to just give in, but I won't. I looked Yunho square in the eye and continued. "Is there a part of you that dislikes seeing me happy when you are miserable? "

Yunho smirked darkly. "I never liked you enough to feel that way, slave."

Something died inside me there and then. There was no use, Yunho had always been empty except for when he had the urge to assert his dominance on me. He grabbed my hair and he began to drag me roughly, but everyone tried to stop him from hurting me further. "Get away from me!" Yunho yelled.

"You're making a grave mistake, Yun, please," Mingi pleaded with him by trying to grab me back, but Yunho just pulled me. He pushed me against the wall and I hit my head. The thump was loud and it caught everyone off guard. But not Yunho. He grabbed my head again and for a moment, it looked like he was going to slam it on the wall hard, but his eyes held so much hurt.

"I should," he whispered. "I really should."

"Yunho, stop it," Wooyoung suddenly interjected. I hadn't even realized he was here. "Send her somewhere, but don't do it, you're not like that."

"Her father---"

"Might have been a beast, but she did not choose her father."

My mouth hung open at Wooyoung's sudden statement. He still has that disdain in his eyes when he sees me, but it wasn't as strong as it was when I first came more than a year ago. They now held a bit of pity in them. Yunho scoffed loudly. "You were in on it," he was sarcastic. "The escape."

Everyone, including me, looked at him in surprise. "Yes and no," he sighed. "Yeosang talked to me, but I said no, but looking at you right now, this seems to be the correct decision."

"Who put you up to this?" Yunho asked, betrayed. "No offense, but none of you are smart enough to plan this." He went up to my ear and harshly whispered. "You're not leaving me. I refuse---"

"You wear a crown, but you're not my king," I said, trying to push him off. "You won't ever hear me scream!"

Yunho's eyes ticked in extreme anger and fury. "I don't want your screams," Yunho growled menacingly. "I want you."

He let me go, not only my body, but he looked like he was letting me go completely. Yunho looked worn out, he looked devastated. We all watched as Yunho tried to get a hold of himself, his eyes crestfallen with every move. We all held our breath when he grabbed his sword and swung it without energy. But he dropped it again.

"Go," he whispered. He looked so devastated and all the fight left his body. "I want you gone before the sun rises."

He stared at Hongjoong. "You take her wherever the fuck you want, but I will punish you and your accomplices myself when you come back, clear?"

Hongjoong nodded. "Clear."

"Go before I change my mind," Yunho spoke to me. "I never want to see you again."

"Come along," Mingi coaxed me out of there. I was in a robotic state by the time everything was over, like my soul was separated from my body and I was looking at myself from another perspective. Mingi guided me out along with an injured Hongjoong while the rest stayed behind. While I was leaving the room, I stopped by the door and looked back, and Yunho was already looking back at me. He was expressionless, but his eyes were red and a single tear fell from his eye. Mingi pulled me back as the door closed.

"To Jongho's," Hongjoong hissed in pain as we walked. "Hurry."

When we got there, Jongho approached us with a worried look in his eyes. "I hear about what happened," he frowned. "I'll handle it. You have to go."

Hongjoong nodded, but I was confused. "Who's going to go with her?" Jongho continued, summoning a carriage.

"I'll do it, Hongjoong can't," Mingi sighed. "Just cover for me."

Jongho nodded and we were about to go into the carriage, but I halted. "Wait, what's going on?" I asked.

Hongjoong gestured to Jongho. "It's his plan." As if nothing could shock me anymore. I turned to look at the Second Prince. "I don't understand," I shook my head. "You dislike me and you have no benefit for this."

"I don't hate you per se," he shrugged. "My mind isn't clouded enough to blame you for the atrocities your father did. I just had to keep that act for a while so Yunho wouldn't suspect anything."

"But why?"

Jongho hesitated. "This has to stop," he whispered. "I didn't want Jiho to die in vain, I just want to live in peace. Don't you?" Jeong Jiho was the Third Prince. I nodded. Of course I did. "Okay then," Jongho urged Mingi and I to go in the carriage. "Go fix Aurora, I don't say this often, but please. You either do it, or you die trying."

"Thank you so much," I cried to him. "I won't let you down."

And then we set off to the horizon. I haven't been out in a year and I couldn't help but tear up while I stared outside as the carriage slowly took us to our destination. "What about you?" I asked Mingi, who was seated in front of me. "How do you feel about all of this?"

"As a knight or as Mingi?" he asked.

"As Mingi."

He sighed and looked outside as well. "I felt very angry for the longest time," he admitted. "It was so unfair, I've struggled to do exactly as I was told yet nothing has changed. At this point, I don't care what happens. I just want order and if you're the key, then so be it."

We set on to a comfortable silence along with our thoughts. I kept asking people because I was still in doubt. Hongjoong had managed to get me out like planned, I just wish Yunho wasn't there to see it.

My heart was breaking into a million pieces and it felt like my insides were dying. His face when I left was breaking me little by little on the inside. Doubt will always be with me, what if I was wrong? Was the pain that came with it, the brutal suffering of my soul, necessary? There was no other way to learn what I have learned. Everything slowly hit me all at once, because earlier I ran on adrenaline, but now that I was confined to my own thoughts, everything hurt. Tears sprang to my eyes and I kept wiping them in respect to Mingi. Of course, he noticed and sighed.

"Just let it out, I don't mind," he coaxed me gently. "It must hurt a lot."

"You knew?" I sniffled.

For the first time in a while, he gave me a friendly smile. "I've known from the start. Only a fool wouldn't notice."

"How?"

"It's not my story to tell," Mingi hesitated. "Can I say something?"

"Of course," I nodded. "You're my friend, Mingi."

He was shocked, but then his body visibly relaxed. Instead of my chaperone, now he looked like a true companion of mine. "You glowed differently when you were with him," he smiled. "That's how I knew."

There was a time where I thought I would be with Yunho for as long as I lived, both as his prisoner and as someone who truly loved him, but now I don't know what life will throw me. I was about to go back home and live out the destiny that I was given for the second time in my life. I can't be with Yunho. I have to set out what I have to do. Even if this didn't happen, I would have left on my own accord. One day, I'll be able to look at myself in the mirror and I get to say that I've done it - that I've set things straight.

This was the life of a princess. Love is something foreign to us, most of us never get to experience it because our duties to our kingdom will always come first. Being a princess was such a bittersweet destiny. Aurora wasn't far and before I knew it, the familiar gates of my kingdom appeared before me and sooner enough, we were passing through it. I didn't know what to feel, this place used to be my home, but now after a year, I don't even know how I will live here again. Much less rule like everyone wants me to do.

"State your name, kingdom, and purpose of your visit to Aurora," a guard stopped our carriage. My heart beat fast, these were the guards that reluctantly let me go with Dune a year ago. They tried hard, Yunho was just too strong. I let the window of the carriage down and peeked my head out and all of the faces of the guards paled.

"Oh my Lord," they said. "Princess!"

They started tearing up and bowing lowly to me over and over again. "Oh, the Heavens have answered us! Our princess is back!"

I smiled, tears filling my eyes. "Rise," I commanded softly. "I am but your forsaken princess." It was emotional for me. They continued crying and some of them went to town to announce my arrival while they opened the gates to let the carriage in.

"Your people love you," Mingi stated in awe as he observed me waving to the townspeople crying in joy and rejoicing at my return.

"And I love them too," I answered. "These people are good people. The only mistake they had was being born under my father's rule. But I will set things straight."

Mingi beamed at me. "It's like you were never imprisoned. It's fascinating."

I decided to go to the back door of the castle because I did not want to be overwhelmed with people about my arrival. Mingi was behind me and admired the architecture. It was very different from Dune. It was such an odd feeling to be back from my own room. I had gotten used to sleeping at Yunho's. I found myself slightly resenting my room, it didn't smell like Yunho, it didn't have his library, it didn't have his scrolls, and it didn't have him. A voice screamed from behind us and Mingi was about to strike but I stopped him.

"Oh, my princess!" my beloved maid, Ilri screamed and ran to me for a hug. She started bawling loudly on my shoulders and I couldn't help but chuckle. When we caught up, I decided to show myself to everybody. If I was going to be queen, this was something I had to get used to. It was uncomfortable at first. I got so used to being a prisoner, and all of a sudden, these people looked up to me like the royalty that I used to be. It was something that deeply saddened me, I will miss the time when everyone talked to me freely back in Dune.

Most of all, I have to get used to not being in Dune anymore. I can't live there anymore and I absolutely can't dwell on the things that will slowly become memories to me.

SEVEN YEARS LATER

It took a while, but I was able to stretch my full potential and discover what I was capable of, both as a woman and as the Queen.

"Hear 'ye, hear 'ye!" the Judge pounded his gavel down the little wooden square.

We were in court and it was the most nervous I've ever been, more nervous than when I was back in imprisonment. Right now, I am waiting for a verdict that can potentially change the outlook of not just my life, but every person alive on this Earth. "The council has spoken," the old Judge cut through the silence. "I, hereby, announce the abolishment of all hard labour during war imprisonment. Prisoners of war shall not be captured again and those who are imprisoning people shall let their prisoners go as soon as possible."

Cheers resounded through the whole court and even the Judge and counsel couldn't help but rejoice. I couldn't fully be happy, it was such a bittersweet moment for me. "My Queen, you did it!" Ilri smiled as we walked out of the court. "Oh, you were amazing back there!"

I held her hand in mine. "Was I?" I grinned. "Please tell me I am not dreaming, my dear friend."

"You aren't, my Queen," Ilri giggled. She put her head up and inhaled the fresh air deeply. "What a wonderful day today, my Queen. Like the Heavens are celebrating us with sunshine."

"You are my sunshine," I smiled. "Would you like to go out with all the other servants today as a celebration?"

Ilri screamed and jumped up and down. "Yes, yes! I would love to!"

I smiled. I was glad that everybody around me was happier than they ever could. The process was grueling, I had to delude myself most of the time that everything was okay and I was doing everything within my rights to be correct, but it seems like I lied to myself too much. I sent everybody in the palace to celebrate in the town, except for a few that would rather stay, and I was all alone in my office. Looking out my window was my happiness, for all my subjects were happy.

But my true happiness stopped seven years ago. I never forgot Yunho. He haunted my dreams at night and when I was awake, he was all I could see everywhere. It wasn't the way to live, but in a way, my desperation to see him again had kept me alive all these years.

I'd become like him over the years, something I regret. I understood why he barely slept, I understood why he was always moody all the time, and I understood why he was the way he was overall. I did it, I wanted to go back and tell everybody who helped me escape back then that they didn't make a mistake in putting their faith in me, because I did it. Sometimes, I wonder what they saw in me - I was just a prisoner - but they saw something in me and to this day, I still want to know.

The celebrations lasted a week and Aurora was flourishing more than ever. It hurt me, but I had to remove every trace of my father - his name, his legacy, even the smallest pamphlets with this name on it. He was still my father and in his sick way, he did love me, but it was the only way to move forward.

"My Queen, can you lend me some of your time right now?" Minghao, my good advisor, knocked on my door after everything went back to normal.

I thought about it, I knew what he was here for, but I gave in. I put away my scrolls and stopped writing for now. "Come in," I sighed.

He came in along with my other advisor, Soonyoung. I groaned internally, but I composed myself. "Honourable Queen," they both bowed.

"To what do I owe not one of my advisors, but two of them?" I deadpanned.

"Ah," Soonyoung chuckled nervously. "You know, the court has been done, maybe we could talk about...you know."

I raised an expectant brow, but on the inside, I was laughing. It was bad, but sometimes it was just nice to mess with them. Minghao cleared his throat. "Should we set the formal celebrations this week, Your Grace? The other kingdoms that worked with the abolishment of the prisoners' capture would like to visit and pay their respects."

I nodded. It was certainly a good idea. After all, the credit wasn't all mine. "Splendid, would the end of the week be sufficient for preparation?"

"We shall try, Your Majesty," Soonyoung nodded his head.

"Alright," I agreed. "Let's do it at the Diamond Hall. It's big enough to accommodate everyone, yes?"

"Yes," Minghao shifted uncomfortably. "And maybe you can pick out potential suitors..."

There it was. I've been hounded about having a King by my side, and I could tell them off, but how was I supposed to tell them that I was not planning to love another man anymore? "Get out."

They both squeaked and ran out of my office as soon as they came in. I sighed heavily and put my face in my hands in despair. It's been seven years, I want to move on, I really do, but I just can't. He probably forgot about me within the year, minus the anger he felt. My legacy as a queen continues, but my life as Y/N has stopped seven years ago. I sobbed softly like I always did when I remembered him. I was aware that I have to choose myself and set myself free but I can't.

And so, another game of being a marionette began. I was functioning and running my kingdom, but I feel like I'm a puppet being controlled with emotions that don't belong to me.

"My Queen? Is everything alright?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and went back to the present. Suddenly, loud music of festivities surrounded me. I looked down and I remembered, today was the celebration for the prisoner's human rights and abolishing the bad. In that grand entranceway where all the royals were entering and going straight to greet me and bow, it's become so easy to fake a smile.

This ballroom was beautiful. It held a lot of memories for me, like my first introduction to the royal society. The pastel hued walls, the most monumental of chandeliers, the grand dancing space, they were all the epitome of luxury and celebration. "Yes, yes, I'm quite okay," I smiled tightly. "Just observing."

My right-hand, Jeonghan, nodded imperceptibly. He knows I'm lying but he didn't dare ask what's wrong. "The great kings and queens and all their royalties will soon enter, My Queen."

Suddenly, I noticed a group of people mingling with the rest of the party. The common people. I smiled and they waved enthusiastically towards me. I wanted everyone to be equal, even for a day, and my kingdom will be one of those who will be known for trying to be accommodating and fair for all its people.

"Announcing, the arrival of the Kingdom of Utopia!"

The horns sounded and everyone stood in attention. King Wonwoo of Utopia was one of my biggest supporters in the battle for this. Everyone entered, paid their respects, over and over again and as much as I appreciated it, it can get very draining. I never realized there were so many kingdoms until I organized one of these.

"Announcing, the arrival of the Kingdom of Dune!"

I immediately dropped the champagne flute that was handed to me, much to the surprise of everyone around me. Gasps filled the area and even the people who sounded the horns paused before they blew on it. Everyone knew the history between me and Dune, my capture, my escape, everything.

"Jeonghan?" I called out in between the music. "Jeonghan!"

A panicked right-hand immediately went to my side. "Explain!"

"M-My Queen," he stammered. "N-Nobody knew either, my theory is that they were the kingdom that didn't want to be named!"

I couldn't even hear the cheers and the music around me, the ringing in my ears got louder and louder, and louder. I do remember that when Minghao was running the list to me. I bit my lip in panic, when I was asking for supporters, some kingdoms who wanted to help didn't want to be named because they wanted to remain neutral on the outside, but help on the sidelines.

A rush of adrenaline passed through my body, I felt my blood pump faster and faster and my heavy breathing couldn't catch up. This was a telltale sign of a panic attack for me, especially because the lights were spinning and my muscles tightened. Familiar faces were suddenly in front of me. I looked around for that face I wasn't ready to see, but I was even more panicked when I didn't see him.

"Breathe in, breathe out, count to ten..."

Before I knew it, my feet had a mind of themselves and I walked down to that voice. A smiling Yeosang readily opened his arms and I just crashed into that hug. "Someone missed me," I could practically hear the smirk on his tone. He pulled me away and took a good look at me. "Hello, Y/N."

Another hand held my shoulders and at first I didn't recognize him. "Don't cry," he gently wiped a stray tear from my eyes. "You're a queen now, you can't let these things get to you..."

I couldn't move, only staring at the man in front of me. San's face had matured greatly, long gone was the boyish charm I loved him for, for it was now replaced by strong muscles, sharp jawline, and sturdy form. He was a man now, but San was still the same. "San," I uttered in disbelief. I pulled him onto a hug and my officials made a move, but I put my hand up to stop them. Behind him, more familiar faces showed. My eyes quickly filled with tears from where I was standing. I couldn't move, scared that this was an illusion and they would disappear if I moved.

"Mingi," I said, my throat suddenly tight. "Seonghwa..."

I don't care what everyone thought, and they probably thought the queen had no composure, but I didn't care. It had been seven years too long. When they rushed towards me and pulled me onto a tight hug, I had forgotten how warm and comforting they were, and how good they felt with me.

"You've grown, I can't believe it," Mingi blurted out before he could stop himself. Seonghwa glared at him playfully. Suddenly, they both bowed. "Respects to the Great Queen of Aurora," Seonghwa announced loudly, and then he lowered his voice only the three of us could hear. "And I'm proud of you."

"Lovely people of Aurora," I announced, loud and proud, earning my old friends' grins. "These are people I treasure in my heart. You will treat them as you would treat me!"

Everybody in the ballroom burst into joyful claps and cheers and I felt a full circle moment. My people absolutely loved them and soon enough they were getting swarmed by all the other royals.

"Looking for someone?"

I froze once again with the familiarity of that voice. The last time I heard that voice, it was for defending me. "Why didn't you enter with the others?" I asked him as he stood beside me with his arms crossed, staring at the party going on in front of us.

"And get swarmed like the others? Ha, look at Yeosang, that fool," Wooyoung snorted jokingly at Yeosang's uncomfortable face as he was getting flocked by multiple people. "No, thank you."

"You never changed," I shook my head. "I'm glad to see you."

"You should be very honoured," Wooyoung grinned. I grinned back, he looked so free and genuinely happy because his eyes smiled with him. "Anyway, he's not here."

My brain short-circuited. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Wooyoung laughed. I was surprised at how high pitched it was. "Oh, please. Rest assured, he won't be coming."

It hurt more than I'd like to admit, but it was for the best. Seeing Yunho would break my heart all over again and there were only so many times it could break. "I'm going to get fresh air," I murmured. "Enjoy the party, Wooyoung. I'm really pleased to have you here."

I turned around to leave but he held my arm to stop me. "Wait," he stopped me. "I'm happy for the person you've become, Y/N. Truly. I knew even back then you were strong, so thank you."

That warmed my heart. "For what?"

"For going on. For straightening this nation. On behalf of Dune as the King's right-hand noble," he bowed very deeply in front of me. "I apologize for everything, and thank you very much."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Wooyoung." I felt tears prick my eyes. It wasn't something I just ever expected from Wooyoung, of all people. And so I left.

I decided to go to an isolated balcony to relax and get some air. Seeing them again had made me emotional, but instead of feeling dread, I felt lighter than I've ever been before. Everything has come full circle and it has helped me move on somewhat. I sighed deeply and leaned over the railing. I smiled when I noticed people admiring my garden and the flowers. Gardening was something I brought with me when I got back here to cope with all the loneliness of being alone with my battles - politically and internally.

Suddenly, I heard a scratching sound from behind me. At first, I thought it was just people lost in the hallways - I did let people roam my castles, I was very proud of it - but when it kept sounding, I got nervous. I had a terrible feeling bubbling up my chest. I turned around slowly, my heart in my throat, but sighed heavily when I didn't see anything. I stared at the empty balcony for a couple of seconds before I turned back around again.

It was a mistake. It happened in split seconds, too. I heard the balcony doors close and I felt heat emanate from my back. Before I could turn around, I was grabbed and a hand covered my mouth before I could scream. I thrashed around as I was beginning to get dragged out of the balcony into the nearby room. I held the captor's arm and tried to pry him off of me and he did let go, but he pushed me to the wall instead and pinned me there.

"If you hurt me, my men will find you," I said, trying to level my voice, but I was pretty sure it was shaky. "If you're smart, you'll know what that means. You might be able to get away with it for now, but you will get caught, I guarantee you."

The captor, who I was sure was a man, didn't say anything. He remained unmoving as I stared onto a hard chest. It didn't necessarily help that he was much, much bigger than me. He stayed unmoved and my head was burning with how hard he was staring at me. His nonchalance was much worse than threatening me directly. I yelped when he grabbed both of my hands and pinned it to the wall above me. It was such an intimate position and I didn't know what to do. I closed my eyes, like he would just disappear if I did. I was even more anxious when he leaned down close to my ear, his breath fanning my skin and giving me shivers down my spine.

"Open your eyes."

My world just magically stopped just like it did when I locked myself in a permanent cage and I had no intention of going out anymore. And then, it just magically opened as if time had never stopped and kept moving on. I looked up slowly, almost robotically, tears welling up my eyes. He had a hood on and his face was covered, but I would recognize those eyes anywhere. He let my hands go and they limply fell to my sides and he grabbed my chin gently and lifted it up.

I got a little brave and let my shaking hands touch the mask that covered his face and slowly took it off along with his hood. I fought the urge to touch the familiar scar on his lips, his beautiful lips. His hair was shorter and more swept to the side than I was used to seven years ago, his features have matured and molded itself to fit his handsome face, and his eyes, they couldn't stop looking at me.

"You look the same," Yunho murmured. He put his thumb on my lower lip and pressed on it. "Your lips are still as soft, you smell the same too. It's been seven years, yet you're still the same."

Shivers traveled down my spine and he noticed it. His voice had gotten much deeper and it had that delicious tone to it that hit places in me I forgot existed. "I-I, b-but, y-you c-can't," I stammered like a stuttering idiot. I cleared my throat. "Certainly not. I-I've changed."

Yunho tilted his head. "Your status did," he corrected. "But other than that, you're still you, Y/N."

The way he said my name almost made me want to purr. It was like I was his prisoner again, it was absolutely pathetic. "What are you doing here?"

I whimpered when he snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me towards his chest. I looked up at him, my eyes wide in shock. "Do you have to question everything I say?"

"Of course," I hissed, trying to push him away from me, but to no avail. "I am no longer your prisoner, I am a queen now, and you will respect me!"

A sly smirk shows upon Yunho's face. "You're right, but we both know that's not true."

I rolled my eyes at him. I won't let him demean me again like he used to. It was just unfair, the way that the moonlight was shining on his form reminded me of the man I used to love - or rather, the man I still loved. "What's not true?" I frowned.

"You're mine, Y/N. Whether you believe it or not, whether you like it or not, you've always been mine."

"What are you talking about?" I snarled. Had he always been this annoying, or had my imprisonment and love for this man before clouded my judgment so much? "Was the journey making you delusional?"

He chuckled. "We can change that, you know," Yunho shrugged. "We can make you mine again."

"Are you crazy? How do you propose we do that?"

"Marry me."

Time stopped for the second time today. I stared at him to see if he was going to laugh just to jest me or perhaps, he just wants to torture me one more time, but nothing. His facade was crumbling down but he kept putting them up. I must have had the most flabbergasted expression on my face and Yunho couldn't help but frown.

"I-I think you should leave," I pushed him away from me and walked a distance. "We shouldn't be seen together."

He smirked mockingly. "You're right, Queen of Aurora."

I frowned. The way he said it, it was like he was testing how the words felt in his tongue. He made his way to me and I froze when he stopped directly in front of me and grabbed my hand.

"See you soon," he said threateningly, then kissed my hand. His lips lingered a bit longer than I wanted to on my skin and it sent shivers down my spine. He kissed it again and before he walked away.

"W-What are you doing?" I blurted out when he went to the balcony. "The door's that way...King Yunho."

He put his mask and hood back on. "I know," he said. My eyes widened when he climbed on the railing. "Call me Yunho. That's all you'll call me soon, anyway."

And with that, he jumped off. I screamed and quickly looked down to where he went. I saw him down the path staring at me. He gave me a small wink and then walked off. What the hell was that? I leaned down the railing, my legs just giving out on me. After seven years, I saw the man I loved so much, and I don't know how to feel about it.

The next week, there was a meeting about all the kingdoms that participated in what we decided to call the Prisoner Emancipation Act. I entered with my head held high, my steps regal and refined. I had to thank my father for that. I sat on my throne and received everyone's greeting.

"Is everybody here? Shall we start?" I asked out of courtesy.

"No, Your Grace, the King of Dune hasn't arrived yet," Hansol, my courtier, shook his head.

I raised a brow. I was almost positive that Yunho was doing this on purpose. Jeong Yunho was not known as a man who was ever, ever late to anything. And as if he heard, the door opened and in came Yunho and behind him was somebody who to all I owe every success I have right now. Jongho was surprised at first, but when he internalized everything, he bowed deeply to me and rose back with the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face. I knew what he was saying in those eyes.

Thank you for all the peace we all have right now.

Yunho sat at the very end of the table and stared hard at me. It made me and everybody uncomfortable, half of it because of how intimidating Yunho was, and the rest was because if nobody was here right now, I was pretty damn sure Yunho would eat me alive. "R-Right," I cleared my throat. "Begin."

It started with the matters of what the now-freed prisoners would have to do now that they weren't in captivity. I was lucky because I was a royal, but the normal common people weren't. It was the most uncomfortable meeting I have ever been to. Yunho kept staring at me like a hawk that set its eyes on its food. Sometimes we'd make eye contact, but I avoided him like a plague overall. He wasn't even blinking, for God's sake!

"Your Majesty, perhaps you have an idea?" King Mingyu of Mist asked me hopefully. "I mean this most respectfully, but you have experienced what it's like to be on the other side."

He meant that I was a prisoner once so I should know. I nodded my head at him as I did not take offense. "Schools," I smiled. "They deserve an education so they can reset the lives they once lost and get jobs that pay higher since it's on an educated level."

Murmurs of approval went around the room. "That's a fantastic idea," King Seokmin of Halazia approved. "But wouldn't that be a bit expensive?" That's where I hit a roadblock. It was something I knew would be asked, but truth be told, I haven't thought of any answers yet. It was the reason why I held this meeting in the first place.

"Cut the war budget and tax the rich."

I held my breath and everybody turned at the nonchalant King of Dune. Yunho had his arms crossed, still staring at me. My mouth went dry, was he trying to help me? "Valid," King Wonwoo muttered. "Explain, King of Dune."

"We are at peace at last, thank the Heavens, and nobles surely can give some of their fortune? Call it compensation for imprisoning the people and stealing their lives," Yunho began to explain. My heart beat fast, was he trying to tell me something? I saw the vision of what Yunho was saying and all the scenarios played in my head. For a second, Yunho smiled a little before it disappeared.

"Money will never get back their life," I murmured. "But they deserve the compensation. I approve of this idea."

Yunho might be the way he is and the other Kings have always been wary of him, but even I can't deny that Yunho was one of the most intelligent rulers I've come across. "Ever so wise, Your Highness," Jongho smirked in approval. I held in a giggle. For some reason, Jongho's approval brought me happiness. "I'm one for this idea as well."

"Now that that's settled," Minghao interrupted. "We shall discuss the marriage of our dear Queen."

I closed my eyes, cringing. The other kings began to murmur within themselves, but Yunho's eyes narrowed into the most dangerous slits I've seen. The way he glared at my Minghao made me feel bad for the man.

"Our Honourable Queen," a random noble piped up. "An heir would be suitable for the throne!"

Me and Jongho rolled our eyes. Maybe next time I'd abolish that rule too. "We found a suitable bachelor for you," an older nobleman smiled at me. I knew of him, he meant nothing but the best for the kingdom. "Rise, Aiden!"

Everybody stared at the random noble that stood up from the crowd and approached me, but Yunho. His body language was rigid, and his fists were so pale with how hard he was clenching them together. "I am Aiden Birdwhistle, Your Majesty," he introduced himself. I frowned, he must not be from here. His name and accent were unique and his features were not of anyone near here. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance, my beautiful Queen."

A snort could be heard from somewhere and I didn't dare look if it was Jongho or Yunho. "Ah," I awkwardly replied. I turned to Minghao and glared at him. "Really, Minghao? Out of all places?"

Aiden grabbed my hand and it surprised me. I tried to pull my hand back but he wouldn't budge. "S-Sir, I would appreciate it if you unhand me," I cleared my throat.

"Why?" he smirked. It was different from the smirk Yunho had, this man was slimy. "We're getting married soon."

"I wouldn't go that far," I laughed nervously.

A bang from the end of the table made me jump and everyone looked at a furious looking Yunho. I was very surprised and Yunho's outburst and Jongho looked the most amused he has ever looked ever since I met him years ago. "Everyone," Yunho growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Out."

Nobody moved an inch at first, until Yunho looked around and everyone shuffled awkwardly. Yunho might not be the overall King of everyone, but there was a sort of respect that he held because he was the one who ended my father. "Not you, you motherfucker," Yunho pointed at Aiden who refused to go. "You stay."

"Can I stay?" Jongho asked a little too cheerfully for my liking.

Yunho glared at him before charging towards me and pulling me away. I yelped a little at the force and I landed at Yunho's hard chest. He wrapped a possessive arm over me and glared at the other man. "W-Who do you think you are?!" Aiden screamed, albeit shaky. Looks like he knows who Yunho was.

"You better know your place, Lord Dogwhistle, or I will end you," Yunho hissed.

The man flushed red in embarrassment and anger. "It's Lord Birdwhistle, Your Majesty."

"Do I look like I give a fuck, Lord Birdpisser?" Yunho raised a brow.

By now, Birdwhistle was angry and he took tentative steps away towards the door. "M-My Queen you can't let him do---"

Before he could finish that sentence, Jongho blocked the man and towered over him, not by height since Jongho was much shorter than Yunho, but by weight. Jongho was pure muscle and you do not want to mess with this man. Yunho's voice was clearcut. "I won't ever repeat myself again," he growled. "I better not see you again hanging around here, Lord Turdkisser. I will fuck you up."

By now the poor man was spooked and he ran out of the room as fast as humanly possible. Jongho was laughing hysterically and he laughed so hard, his eyes started to water up in happy tears. "Turdkisser, seriously, Yun?" Jongho cracked up in more laughter. "So mature."

Yunho ignored him and turned to me. "Where's your chambers?"

I pointed at the room across the hall. "T-That one---wait, what are you doing?!"

Yunho was carrying me bridal style, much to my chagrin, and carried me across to my room. Ilri was in there just resting and her eyes widened comically when she saw the scene. I told her everything that happened between me and Yunho and she was more than willing to leave the room to give me and Yunho some privacy.

"I think we need to talk," he began.

"You think?" I hissed in annoyance when he put me down. "What do you think you're doing just dragging me here, in my private quarters, nonetheless!"

Yunho crossed his arms together. "You slept in my bed without fail, Y/N. This is double standards."

My brain went haywire and I began to avoid eye contact. Silence descended between the two of us. After last night, I told myself that I would avoid him, but here we are, at the confines of my private space, alone with nothing better to do. "Nonetheless. I've been trying to get you alone since last week," Yunho's deep voice rumbled through the entire room. His eyes were watching me calculatingly and it was making me uncomfortable. "Why are you avoiding me?"

I stuttered at the straightforward question. "I-I wasn't, I was b-busy with the kingdom's affairs."

"If you're going to lie to me, look me in the eye while you do so," Yunho said. His domineering presence was so suffocating. He wasn't wrong though. This was exactly what I was afraid of, that my heart would open up to him again once we were alone so as much as possible, I tried not to be near him. He tried to come near me, but I panicked. Hurt laced his expression when stepped back from him.

"You can't do this to me," I shook my head, willing the unwelcome tears in my eyes to go away "Seven years, that's a long time, how long are you going to torture me like this?"

Yunho sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. It was something he did when he was stressed. That realization made my blood run cold - seven years had passed yet his mannerisms came like second nature to me. "I tried, Y/N, I tried very, very hard in all those seven years," Yunho took a step forward, and I took a step back. "Please, can you just hear me out?"

"I-I don't owe you anything," I shook my head.

"You're right, you don't owe me anything," Yunho said softly. "I'm sorry," he said. "Seven years since that day, Y/N. There hasn't been a day where I never regretted what happened. If I could turn back time..."

My heart felt heavy like a boulder had been placed on top of my chest. "So much has happened," I sighed. "You hated me, you would have rather I died than be anything else besides your prisoner. I-I don't understand where you're coming from right now."

"I was going to set you free when I found that letter in your room," he began to explain, all the pain was written in his face. "You're right. I hated you, I still do."

That stung a lot more than I'd like. "I hate you for leaving," Yunho's voice cracked. "Why would you leave?"

I hesitated if I should tell him the truth. For years, that day has haunted me in my dreams and I was left with all the imagination in the world of what could have been had I just thrown that letter away like I did with the others. "I-I wasn't going to," I whispered, looking down the floor because I don't want to see his expression. "I was going to tell you, but you beat me to it."

Then, Yunho chuckled, and that chuckled turned into a full-blown laugh that sounded akin to a crazed man that lost his mind so long ago. And then, a groan of pain and misery. "For the longest time, I thought I did the right thing," Yunho took a deep breath in and stared at me. "But why did your departure make my chest burn?"

Tears started flowing from my eyes and before I knew it, I was sobbing heavily. So all that loneliness was for nothing? The dreams I had of what could have been were supposed to be what should have been?

"You're beautiful you know?" Yunho whispered. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

My head started beating a thousand times per minute. I shook my head no. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on," Yunho confessed, walking another step towards me. "I lost all control and I caught myself staring at you a lot. Control is a very important thing to me, Y/N. It's what makes me function."

"I know," I smiled bitterly. "You loved controlling me."

"I did, you're right, and you know what? Maybe I still do," Yunho sighed heavily, the said control on his form slowly slipping away. There was a slight pause before Yunho continued. "It was awful," he whispered. "I couldn't eat because I'd remember your favourites. I couldn't sleep because you'd be my first thought when I woke up. I couldn't sleep in my own bed because the pillows still smell like you."

All the pain from years ago awakened inside of me. I wasn't going to tell him that my life wasn't any better. "I loved you so much," Yunho closed his eyes and a pained expression crossed his face. "I still do. I didn't realize just how much until you completely left me for good."

My breath got cut short. He loved me. I shook my head adamantly, refusing to believe him. "Y-You don't mean that," my voice broke towards the end.

Yunho tried to touch me again but I refused. "I tried to keep you for as long as I could," he pleaded for me.

I raised a brow. "What the hell does that mean? You mean as your slave and your personal punching bag whenever you were angry? You think that was my life to live, Yunho?"

"No, I didn't mean it---"

"And what about all the times where I would be alone wondering if you were finally going to snap?!"

"But I wasn't---"

"You don't love me, Yunho, you never did---"

"I let you go because my hatred turned into obsession, Y/N. I was fucking obsessed with you!" Yunho roared, making me stop. "Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"Stop talking, I'm b-begging you," I sniffled pathetically.

"Do you know? Do you?!" Yunho shouted, pounding his chest with his hands repeatedly. "I want you so fucking bad, Y/N, I want you so bad that I don't know what I'll do if I don't have you soon because I am going insane."

The better version of me would have walked out from this room and she would have known what to do. But unfortunately, it was difficult to undo the trauma I've gone through. Yunho turned to me and his eyes became soft when he saw the sobs that wracked my body.

"You're the one hurting me right now, Yunho, it's you!" I screamed. It was the first time I said his name again, I wish it was in better circumstances. "It's been seven years and this is what you give me again after so long? I-I can't act in a way that curbs that sick pleasure in your gut!"

"I'm fucked up, okay?" Yunho begged and he tried to hold me but I avoided him. He looked like I just slapped him in the face. "Precious, please let me hold you, just once, please."

Who was this man? The king I knew would have never asked me of this, let alone beg anyone for their consent. "I imprisoned you, hurt you, killed your father, took your life away for a year and I gave you all the hurt you never knew as a princess," Yunho ran his hands on his face.

"But I don't hate you," I said exasperatedly. "Even in the beginning never did because to a certain extent, I understood where you were coming from." I sat on my bed in defeat, plopping down on the soft mattress. "I just never expected to fall in love with you down the line," I whispered. "It was torture, Yunho. It made me so angry and ashamed of myself."

Yunho sat on the bed next to me. "You love me?" he asked.

I turned to him and glared. "Really? I said all of that and that's the only one you heard?"

He shrugged. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "I was a disgraced princess, why would I tell you? Plus right now, I'm sorry to say, but I'm just more angry than anything else."

Yunho smiled, and I had to pause. My heart refused to be still, it was the first time I ever saw Yunho have such an expression. He looked so young again, so carefree, and so different. He leaned down and gave my lips a small peck. I closed my eyes and blush beet red.

Darn it, darn it, darn it! Why is it that this stupid body can't control itself?!

He held my face with his hands and softly caressed me. "Tell me you still love me, precious," Yunho was slowly leaning in on me. He stared at my lips. "I wish I was the only one who kissed you."

I frowned and I was about to protest but then I remembered a certain man who reminded me of a fox. "It was your order," I deadpanned, unimpressed. "Wooyoung was just following it."

"Yeah, but he didn't have to be that into it," he rolled his eyes. "I swear I wanted to punch him that day."

I couldn't help but giggle at that. For the first time in years, I felt so much lighter, like a heavy baggage has been lifted off of my shoulders. I felt brand new and I can breathe freely. Had I known it felt this good to let go, I would have done it a while ago. "What now?" I asked him.

"I want to kiss you," Yunho admitted. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

He stroked my cheek ever so slightly and I nod ever so slightly. Something stirred inside me when Yunho pulled me up so I straddled his waist. "You're beautiful," Yunho whispered. "So beautiful."

And then we were kissing. Everything felt right at this moment and I couldn't help but tear up a little. Yunho swallowed my grief as his own and matches the passion we both had for each other. I moaned a bit when he began sucking on my bottom lip. I remember the kisses he stole from me from time to time before, but none of them felt like this. None of them expressed Yunho's strong desire for me. It wasn't slow and sweet, but it wasn't fast and rough either - we were both just desperate for each other. It was the reason why both our clothes were gone already.

"Yun..." I mewled softly when I felt his fingers play with my heated core masterfully, hitting all the good spots all at once.

"You can take more, precious, take it all in for me," he groaned.

At first he inserted a finger inside me, then two, and then a third one until I couldn't take him anymore. He smirked at my squirming body. "I didn't know you were this sensitive," he kissed my body all over. "Makes me want to have you even more."

He looked directly in my eye as he watched me take his long, skillful fingers. The wet sounds of my pussy fill the room and it spurs him on to finger fuck me harder. "O-Oh God, Yunho," I moaned his name loudly. "Yunho!"

He groaned lowly as he watched, barely able to talk as he watched his fingers disappear inside me over and over again. He leaned down to claim my lips in a heated, fevered kiss. Suddenly, I was lifted up until I was on top of him and I was basically sitting directly on his face. "Yunho, wait---"

"Hush, precious."

I screamed both in pleasure and in pain when he swatted the fleshy part of my ass. "You're going to take what I give you, yes?" I hesitated, my senses being clouded, and Yunho spanked me harder, his entire palm marking my ass as his. "Answer me, Y/N."

"Yes, yes, yes--oh, Yunho!"

He wrapped his arms on my waist, pulled me down, and his tongue immediately licked thick stripes on my pussy. I nearly saw heaven then and there. It was so obscene, the way he made love to my pussy with his mouth while I was on top was so erotic. “Y-Yunho, please!" I screamed, pure ecstasy running through my veins.

He stopped. "Tell what you want, precious, tell daddy what you want..."

I almost came when I heard that. "Yun, I-I need you..."

I sighed in pleasure when his fingers started stroking my throbbing clit. "Yun, please, please, oh..."

"I need you to be specific, Y/N," he murmured. "Tell. Me. What. You. Want."

"I want you inside me!"

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

I shook under his touch, desperate for any sort of relief. I didn’t know what he wanted, and my mouth just moved by itself. “P-Please, daddy? I-I want you—“

That was what it took for Yunho to grab me and flip me underneath him. He wasted no time pushing his thick cock inside me, and I was almost driven to insanity when the feel of his hard cock filling me. We both groaned at the euphoric sensation. "I want to lose myself in you," Yunho moaned as his hips moved. His voice was breathy and intense. "Can I fuck you the way I want?"

I nodded without any doubts. Short, but hard, thrusts opened and stretched me as his lips crashed into mine again. Within moments, Yunho lost all control of himself and began fucking me in ways I never thought my body was able to take. "Wrap your arms around my neck," Yunho growled.

"Yes, fucking scream for me," Yunho grunted as he kept thrusting into me harder and harder. It almost broke me into two and I couldn't formulate coherent words or screams. "I said scream," he growled, but I couldn't until he slowed down. He's a menace as he fucked me harder because he knew I couldn't open my mouth. "Scream!"

I did as follows and it was all it took. He was almost violent with his thrusts as he kept grunting over and over again as his cock penetrated me deeper and deeper. "Y/N," he growled deeply in my ear.

I went from moaning to crying when he suddenly pulled and then thrusted back in and buried himself balls deep. Yunho pounded and pounded me until I was nothing but a screaming mess for him, and I loved every second of it. Suddenly, he pulled out. "Turn around," he demanded. "Onto your hands and knees."

Oh God, he was going to take me from behind. I complied and he grabbed my hips and immediately went back inside me. I screamed his name. "You're tighter like this, fuck..."

"Harder, Yunho, p-please," I begged him with a whimper. Yunho smirked and slammed onto me so hard, I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up the next day all bruised. He was hitting me in all the right places and I drooled all over the bed while screaming Yunho's name repeatedly.

"Yunho, Yunho, fuck, Y-Yunho," I grit out. "I-I think I'm gonna c-come.."

That familiar pressure of an oncoming orgasm was about to hit me and it was so overwhelming and almost unbearable. "Fuck!" I shrieked with each thrust of his hips and the way his hands would grab my hips and slam in onto his so I could meet his strokes harder and harder was driving me absolutely insane.

It was violent, but delicious. It was seven years of pent up frustrations and lust. "Whose are you, Y/N?"

"Y-Yunho, p-please," I begged at nothing in particular. He grabbed my neck and put his fingers in my mouth. The sight of me as a drooling mess while he split me open made him grin sadistically.

He bent down and I almost saw stars at how deep he was in me. "You're mine," he kept repeating over and over again. "I'd rather kill you than see you with someone else, you hear me?"

I shivered in absolute pleasure and delight. This just set back feminism by another century, but God, the way Yunho was taking me was altering my brain chemistry. "If I can't have you, then nobody else can. Understand?"

"Yes, daddy, yes," I sobbed uncontrollably. It must have down something to him as his thrust became uncoordinated and his grunts getting louder.

"Oh, shit, precious, fuck," Yunho's voice was guttural, borderline animalistic. "I'm going to fucking come, where do you want it?"

"I-Inside, please, Y-Yunho--"

"Fucking hell," he hissed. "Oh my fucking God, Y/N..."

I heard Yunho's loud groan of my name as I shook and my jerked while the heights of my orgasm took over my body. Ropes of warm liquid hitting the back of my pussy almost triggered another orgasm from me while Yunho continued riding out his high. We laid there for a moment, internalizing what just happened between the two of us, but one thing was for sure - neither of us regretted what happened and we likely never will. One last tremor racked my body and then we were done.

"What now?" I asked softly, all energy drained as I collapsed on top of him when he flipped us again.

Yunho grabbed the blanket and covered our naked bodies with it. "I don't know," he whispered back as he tenderly caressed my back. "To be honest, I don't want to think about it. I just want to focus on us for now."

"I love you," I blurted out, remnants of that high still evident in my tone.

"I love you too," Yunho whispered, placing a tender kiss on my forehead. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N. I will never stop wishing that we met in different circumstances, but I'm okay with it now."

"A-Are you sure?" I frowned. "There's not much I can offer you, Yun."

Yunho shook his head. "I loved you when the only thing you offered was your life. I loved you then, and I love you even more now."

"What's going to happen to our kingdoms now?" I couldn't help but ask. It was the reason why I was avoiding him.

"We'll figure it out, precious, don't worry about it," Yunho smiled at me. "You think like a queen now, I'm proud of you." He held my hand tighter. “I meant what I said last week.”

“Which was?”

“Marry me, Y/N,” Yunho whispered. “I don’t think I can live without you anymore. It’ll keep the other ministers off your back too.”

“I-I don’t know,” I told him truthfully. “Don’t you think this all too fast? It’s been seven years, do we even know each other anymore?”

“I don’t know about you,” he turned to look at me with a small smile. “But I will never, ever forget you. See, these people like that fucker, Lord Dogwhistle? Status chaser.” He grabs my head possessively and gives me a swift kiss. “I loved you before all of this, Y/N,” he murmured. “Please, marry me? You don’t have to say yes now, I can give up Dune if you’d like.”

That statement shocked me. “What? Y-You can’t do that Yunho, you love Dune…”

“I know,” he sighed. “But I love you more. Jongho is getting married to a nearby princess, I will figure something out.”

“But Yun,” I frowned. This man was willing to give up a whole kingdom for me, but I can’t let him do that. “Jongho doesn’t seem like the type to want to rule.”

He avoided eye contact. “You’re right, he doesn’t,” Yunho said. He looked so lost. “But I can’t give you up anymore.”

A thought suddenly crossed my mind. “Why didn’t you come sooner?” I frowned. “Seven years is a long time to finally tell me all of this.”

“Because I don’t want to mess you up again, and truth be told, I was pretty messed up myself,“ Yunho sighed deeply. “The best thing I could do back then was support your cause, I gave you every little penny I possibly could.”

I was a bit surprised. He leans in and buries his head on my neck. “You did it, didn’t you? You abolished that law.”

“How much did you donate to help the cause, Yunho?”

“Enough to surpass every little asshole out there trying to outdo me so they could impress you. I worked hard to get rid of the flies buzzing around you asking for marriage, I wasn’t about to let some fuckface have you.”

I pushed him away in slight annoyance. “That was you?” I hissed. “All this time I thought nobody just wanted to marry me!” Yunho laughed at my chagrin and all my anger melted. For the first time in a while, we both felt lighter than ever before. His laughter was the sweetest thing I have ever heard and I would love to hear it over and over again until my days come to an end. “I guess I’ll marry you,” I shrugged, trying hard not to burst into laughter.

Yunho looked like a deer in headlights. “You will?”

I pretended to think about it. “I guess so, you owe me a lot, Jeong Yunho.”

Yunho laughed again - oh, it sounded so sweet - and he stared at me as he wrapped his arms tighter around me. “This feels good,” he murmured. “I feel so much lighter. I can’t even be mad at your father anymore.”

That surprised me. “W-What?”

“If it weren’t for your father, I wouldn’t have even met you at all,” he revealed. “I know it’s not an excuse and I would spend the rest of my life begging for your forgiveness, but for the longest time, I felt so selfish for feeling that way.”

My heart went out to him and all the walls of doubt crumbled on my end. Might I regret giving Yunho a chance? Yes, but the what-ifs will kill me more than protecting myself. I have spent years denying myself of what little happiness I have. “You don’t have to choose between your people and mine anymore,” I assured him. I know he felt bad for loving because his people suffered.

Yunho looked at me, pain and confliction still evident on his face. I held his face in mine and he nuzzled his face onto it, it made my heart explode. “People like us,” I started. “Happiness is very difficult to come by because of the duties attached to our life. I-I just want to be happy, Yunho, don’t you?”

Yunho smiled at me and then gave my forehead the most tender and loving kiss. "You're going to be with me right? You're never going to leave me? You don’t know how much this makes me happy, precious," Yunho grabbed onto my hand. "Together?"

I held his hand tighter as I leaned down onto his hard chest. "Together."

Important note for Author, please read: Hello, everyone <3 The reason why I made this longer is that I'm going on vacation for Lord-knows-how long. I've planned this for a while, but now I need it. TMI, but I have a two-year old kid and lately, writing had felt more like a chore to me rather than something I enjoyed on top of my real life responsibilities. For that, I feel so sad that my passion is kind of dwindling a little. Rest assured I will be back as soon as possible, it's just that the vacation has been planned 8-10 months in advanced.

And to my dear friend, Roxanne. You’ve been there since the beginning. Thank you for being you.

With love,

Aren.

#ateez #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez yunho #pirateeznet #illusionnet #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez fluff #jeong yunho #atz #ateez stories #atiny #ateez fantasy au

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evilminji · 10 months ago

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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dpxbnha #dp x bnha #dp x mha #dpxmha #minji's writing #dp prompt #dp x bnha prompt

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bellatrixscurls · 1 year ago

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exquisite weather today, no? | part i

warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.

summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?

a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3

“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.

“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.

Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.

When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.

Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.

“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”

Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.

Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”

Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?

“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”

Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”

This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”

“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.

“He towers over me?”

The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.

“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”

At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.

In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”

And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.

His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.

Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.

“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.

When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”

Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.

“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.

“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”

At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.

He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”

Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.

Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.

“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.

He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”

“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.

“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.

“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.

“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.

You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.

A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

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halyasgirl · 2 months ago

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Something I find really interesting in Arcane is what is and is not normalized among the setting and characters, especially Silco.

In 1x08 "Oil and Water" Jayce and Vi raid one of Silco's Shimmer manufacturing plants, which Jayce is rightfully horrified to find staffed with child laborers who are caught in the crossfire. To Piltovan, and probably audience eyes, this is barbaric and a moral event horizon for a villain who would use children this way.

But none of the Zaunites are horrified, or even fazed. Even Vi, who loathes Silco and certainly wouldn't hesitate to blame him, sees nothing amiss. Child labor, even criminal child labor, is not considered a failing in Zaun. Vander and Benzo lovingly raised their children, but involved them in their burglary and fencing. What other life skills could they offer them? There do not appear to be any schools in Zaun and any economy is grey at best. It’s a neglectful parent who leaves their child alone on the streets of Zaun. As sick as it is, these children were comparatively privileged. Renni’s son was the child of a Chembaroness, and when Renni finds his body, she blames Silco not for placing him in harm's way, but for refusing to avenge him. And her rage brings to light the massive double standard Silco holds with parenting Jinx.

Silco is unusual among Zaunite parents in that he doesn’t use his child for any sort of work. The only "labor" Jinx does for Silco is nursing and in-house graphic design, and any involvement she has in his operation is at her own behest. Albeit in a very twisted way, it’s traits that could make Silco a “good” parent that draw confusion and resentment in Zaun. He takes note of his daughter’s interests and gets her the resources to explore them. He goes out of his way to nurture the talents she chooses and tries to guide her to a path he thinks will be fulfilling. And when she struggles, he puts her first, before business, politics, or even others’ well-being and safety.

Many things about Silco make him a typical Zaunite man. He employs child labor. He wears makeup. He’s disabled from some aspect of hard living with few resources. He chain-smokes in self-destructive defiance of every other toxin in his environment. He hates Piltover.

But for all his hatred, Silco dresses Piltovan, in sharp clothes lacking Zaun’s asymmetry motif. He’s unusual not for wearing makeup or being disabled, but for using makeup to try and hide his disfigurement, his Zaunite asymmetry. And his treatment of people, good and bad, is very Piltovan in Zaunite eyes.

#arcane #arcane meta #silco #jinx #vi #jayce talis #renni #zaun #piltover #piltover and zaun #Oil and Water #arcane 1x08

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weebsinstash · 28 days ago

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I wanted to share another piece of American history and also queer history with you guys that I've been thinking about since, what I consider to be the vandalism of "Portrait of Ross in L.A", and also because it is relevant to our current polticial climate, where even the company I currently work for has publicly declared that they will no longer have diversity and inclusion programs

John S. Boskovich was an American homosexual man living in America during the AIDS epidemic of the 80s and 90s. He had a partner, Stephen Earabino. During the epidemic, Earabino contracted AIDS and eventually passed away in 1995.

This was during a time period where the AIDS crisis was being intentionally mismanaged as a direct attempt to "purge" queer people and make them socially unacceptable, and many families often hid the deaths of their queer family members for being AIDS-related out of shame, fear of public ridicule, and/or homophobia. The shifting of the blame of AIDS onto exclusively gay and bisexual men was so intentionally heavily prevalent that it lead to many deaths of heterosexuals, lesbians, and even the creation of a now famous poster by that read "Women Don't Get AIDS: They Just Die From It", which was also created as a plea to the CDC to address the crisis and EVERYONE who faced it

So, in that social and political context, after Stephen passed away, his family came to the flat where their son was living with his lover and completely cleaned out all the belongings in the apartment, erasing any evidence of Earabino and Boskovich's relationship, but also, leaving Boskovich with absolutely no possessions and nothing to remember his lover by except for a single box fan

Boskovich, in his grief, made this single electric box fan an art installation by encasing it in plexiglass with holes cut into it, protecting the fan, lionizing it, with the breeze coming through the gaps meant to symbolize his lover's breath and how this art installation, in a sense, keeps Stephen Earabino's memory alive. The name of the piece is "Electric Fan (Feel It Motherfuckers)" and it has been theorized that the "feel" refers to not only the breeze of the fan symbolizing his lover and memorializing him, in a sense giving him eternal life, but also for the viewer to "feel" the grief and anger of Boskovich losing his lover and the cruel aftermath that followed

Boskovich made this piece of artwork in 1997, and eventually passed away 9 years later in 2006 in his home at 49 years old of causes that were never fully disclosed, some theorizing that he committed suicide. His artwork now sits in the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.

This is another influential and emotional piece of history that goes to show just how extremely important it is to hang onto the truth that queer people and by extension any marginalized people have a right to exist. It shows the lengths to which lives are destroyed by the hatred and policies of those who revel in intentional cruelty and exerting their own authority for no other reason than hating those that do not share the same views as them. When we do not fight to hold onto our history, those who decide we do not need to be a part of it will fight hard to erase it completely and pretend that we were never even here in the first place, much like Stephen Earabino's family would have completely erased his existence without the voice of John Boskovich, or how Ross Laycroft and his struggle wouldn't have been known without him becoming memorialized by Felix Gonzales-Torres' sculpture intended as an act of love

We are here. We are alive. We will continue to make our voices heard and refuse to die in darkness. I will not be driven from my home country because of what is QUICKLY becoming an American fascist dictatorship.

We are all eternal in the memories of those who lives we touch and change. We are made stronger by the bonds we build with each other and our communities. We must never stop fighting for our right to exist.

We must never make it easier for them to erase us, not just from being alive, but from being recorded in history altogether

#as you can see ive been extremelt upset and passionate over these last few weeks #i actually intend to visit my state capital to speak to my locak representatives #especially after the outright terrorism trump just pulled by dumping 1.6 billion gallons of water in cali JUST bc he got mad at them

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hisfavegirl · 2 months ago

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Eternal Flame - Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader.

Summary : Your love for Aegon is enough to make you a bridge between the differences of your family, you are also a valuable asset that your family has in this peace.

Aegon Masterlist.

You stood silently in front of your mother’s chambers, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. From within, you could hear the familiar sound of raised voices—your mother, Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, locked in yet another argument. It wasn’t the first time, and you doubted it would be the last. Their words were muffled by the thick wooden door, but you didn’t need to strain to know what they were fighting about.

The topic was you.

More specifically, your mother’s decision to marry you to Aegon—a decision you had agreed to without hesitation because, despite everything, you and Aegon loved each other. But your father did not see it that way. To him, it was a betrayal, a dangerous political move that tied you to the Hightowers—a family he had no trust or love for.

“Do you not see what you’ve done?” you heard your father’s voice, sharp and accusing. “Marrying her to him binds her to them, to Alicent, to everything that divides us!”

“She loves him,” your mother’s voice countered, firm and resolute. “And he loves her. I will not stand in the way of their happiness because of your hatred, Daemon.”

There was a pause, heavy and tense, and then your father’s voice cut through again, quieter but no less furious. “It is not hatred—it is survival. Do you think love will matter when war comes? When the Hightowers seek to take everything from us?”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching at his words. You knew your father’s concerns were not without merit. The tension between your family and the Hightowers had long before you're born. But your love for Aegon wasn’t about politics, about alliances or power plays. It was real, and it was yours.

Gathering your courage, you raised your hand and knocked on the door. The voices inside immediately went silent, and a moment later, your mother called out, “Come in.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. Both your parents turned to look at you, their expressions tense and conflicted.

“I can hear you from the hallway,” you said softly, meeting their gazes. “And I know what you’re arguing about.”

Rhaenyra’s face softened, guilt flickering in her eyes. “My love, I’m sorry—”

“No,” you interrupted gently but firmly. “You don’t need to apologize. I know why Father is angry, and I understand his reasons. But this is my choice. I love Aegon, and he loves me. That should be enough.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Love is a fleeting thing, daughter. It cannot protect you from what is to come.”

“And neither can fear,” you replied, your voice steady. “I am not afraid of loving him, just as I am not afraid of standing by my family. I am a Targaryen, and I will not be divided by anyone.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Rhaenyra stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You are stronger than I ever was,” she said quietly, her voice filled with pride.

Daemon said nothing, but the flicker of approval in his gaze was enough. You knew he would never stop worrying, never stop protecting you in his own way. But for now, at least, the storm had passed.

You strolled through the garden, the soft rustle of leaves and the sweet scent of blooming flowers surrounding you. The tranquility of the moment was soothing, a brief escape from the weight of palace life. Yet, as you rounded a corner, the sound of familiar laughter reached your ears—a voice you knew better than your own.

Aegon.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned your head toward the source of the sound. There he was, leaning casually against a tree, his silver hair catching the sunlight like molten silver. He looked at ease, a rare sight for someone so often burdened by expectation and excess.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, lost in conversation with a servant or perhaps just musing aloud. But when his eyes finally met yours, his expression softened, a genuine smile curving his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back, warmth spreading through you like a gentle flame. Despite everything—the politics, the whispers, the shadows that lingered over your family—he had always had this effect on you. He made the world feel smaller, simpler, as though nothing else mattered when he was near.

“Aegon,” you called softly, stepping closer.

His smile widened as he straightened, his arms opening slightly in an unspoken invitation. “Wandering the gardens alone, my love? Were you looking for me, or have I just been blessed with your presence by chance?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

Aegon chuckled, the sound rich and full of life. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, and his gaze held yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

“In a garden full of beauty, you are still the most captivating thing here,” he murmured, his tone teasing yet sincere.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics but couldn’t suppress the blush that crept to your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he quipped, his grin mischievous.

As the two of you stood there, surrounded by the vibrant colors of the garden, the world seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, and nothing else mattered.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the garden as you and Aegon shared quiet laughter. His jokes, though often ridiculous, always had a way of lightening your heart. It was moments like these—free from the weight of duty and expectation—that you cherished the most.

Now, the two of you sat beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, the soft grass cushioning your seat. Aegon had decided, in his typical fashion, to make himself comfortable by resting his head in your lap. His silver hair spilled across your dress like threads of moonlight, and he looked up at you with a lazy grin.

“You spoil me, you know,” he said, his voice light with amusement.

“And how exactly do I do that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow but smiling down at him.

“By letting me lie here,” he teased, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring the moment. “By laughing at my jokes, even when they’re terrible. By not scolding me when I steal too many sweets from the kitchens.”

You laughed, gently brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re impossible, Aegon.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied, opening one eye to look at you.

You didn’t answer right away, instead letting your fingers trace absentmindedly through his hair. The truth of his words was unspoken but undeniable. Despite everything—the chaos, the complications—you loved him deeply.

“You’re right,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he reached up to take your free hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. “I know I don’t deserve it,” he said after a moment, his tone quieter, more serious. “But I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You don’t have to be perfect, Aegon. You just have to be you.”

He closed his eyes again, a content sigh escaping him as he relaxed into your touch. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you beneath the tree, wrapped in a moment of peace and love that felt as though it could last forever.

Your fingers continued to glide through Aegon’s silver hair, occasionally brushing against his cheek. His soft, relaxed expression made you smile—a rare sight from someone so often burdened by the expectations of his title and lineage.

He was calm, even content, as his head rested on your lap. You felt a sense of peace that you had been longing for amidst the chaos of your family’s complicated world. But that peace was shattered when you heard voices nearby.

You turned your head, your heart sinking as you recognized the approaching figures—your mother, Rhaenyra, and Aegon’s mother, Alicent. The two mother walked side by side, their expressions calm but tense. It was clear from their determined strides and hushed conversation that they were coming with a purpose.

Aegon, noticing your distraction, opened his eyes and followed your gaze. His relaxed demeanor shifted slightly, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he muttered, “And here come the dragons.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, though you quickly composed yourself as they approached. When they reached you, Alicent’s gaze flickered between you and Aegon, her expression disapproving but restrained. Rhaenyra, meanwhile, softened slightly when her eyes landed on you, though there was a firmness in her stance that told you this was no casual visit.

“Aegon,” Alicent said, her tone sharp but quiet, “is this how you choose to spend your time? Lounging in the gardens while matters of your marriage remain unresolved?”

Aegon sighed, sitting up but remaining close to you. “Mother,” he replied lazily, “can’t a man enjoy a moment of peace with his wife-to-be?”

“A moment, perhaps,” Rhaenyra interjected, her tone gentler than Alicent’s but no less serious. “But there are matters that must be addressed. The wedding is fast approaching, and there are arrangements to finalize.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Aegon, who rolled his eyes slightly before standing and helping you to your feet. “Very well,” he said, brushing off his tunic. “Let’s discuss this ‘urgent matter’ of a wedding that we’re already committed to.”

Alicent’s lips thinned, clearly unimpressed with his attitude, while Rhaenyra gave you a small, reassuring smile. You felt torn between the two women—your mother’s quiet encouragement and Alicent’s intense scrutiny—but you nodded and stepped forward.

“Shall we sit and discuss everything here in the garden?” you suggested, hoping to keep the conversation calm.

Rhaenyra nodded, gesturing for everyone to settle under the shade of the tree. As Aegon plopped back down beside you, his hand finding yours, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anxiety. The two most formidable women in your life were about to negotiate the details of your future—a future you hoped would bring peace, not more division.

The four of you sat at the far end of the garden under the shade of a large tree. The servants moved swiftly and quietly, setting down trays of small pastries, fruits, steaming tea, and wine. The atmosphere was pleasant enough, though there was a certain tension lingering in the air.

Alicent was the first to speak, her voice steady and deliberate. “The gown,” she began, glancing at you briefly before shifting her gaze to Rhaenyra. “It must be fitting of her station. The finest Myrish silk, perhaps trimmed with gold or silver. Something elegant, yet modest.”

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at the word “modest,” a faint smile tugging at her lips. “My daughter will shine on her wedding day,” she replied calmly. “Aegon deserves nothing less than a bride befitting a queen. If silver and gold are what you wish, then so be it. But I will ensure the gown captures her strength as well as her beauty.”

Aegon, lounging casually beside you, took a sip of his wine and murmured, “I think she looks perfect in anything.”

The comment made you smile, though Alicent shot him a quick, disapproving glance. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, seemed faintly amused.

“The gown can be decided later,” Rhaenyra said, waving her hand slightly. “Let us discuss the ceremony. I suggest the Great Sept—though I imagine you, Alicent, may have a different opinion.”

Alicent’s posture stiffened slightly, but she kept her tone measured. “The Great Sept is a fine choice, but the royal wedding of my son and your daughter must also honor the traditions of the Faith. The ceremony should reflect the values of both our houses.”

Aegon sighed dramatically, setting his goblet down. “The Faith, the dragons, the banners… Must we weigh down our wedding with every tradition imaginable?”

“You speak as though tradition is a burden,” Alicent said sharply, her gaze narrowing. “It is what binds us together as a people, Aegon.”

Rhaenyra interjected smoothly, her tone almost playful. “Perhaps we can find a compromise. A traditional ceremony in the Sept, but with elements that honor House Targaryen’s roots. Fire and blood, as they say.”

Alicent hesitated, clearly uneasy with the idea, but she gave a curt nod. “As long as it does not overshadow the sanctity of the Faith, I will agree.”

The conversation continued, moving from the guest list to the feast and even the matter of who would speak during the ceremony. You sat quietly for much of it, feeling like a spectator at times, though Aegon occasionally squeezed your hand under the table, a silent reassurance that you were in this together.

Despite the occasional clash of opinions, both Alicent and Rhaenyra seemed determined to ensure the wedding went smoothly. Their mutual efforts, however reluctant, gave you a glimmer of hope that this union might bring some measure of peace to your fractured family.

Aegon let out a low growl of frustration, setting his goblet down with a sharp clink against the table. His usually laid-back demeanor shifted as he straightened in his seat, his expression a mix of defiance and determination.

“If we are to discuss the ceremony yet again,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of irritation, “then let me make one thing clear: I want our wedding to honor our heritage—Old Valyria. That is our blood, our legacy, and I won’t have it drowned in customs that mean little to us.”

The air grew tense, and Alicent’s eyes widened slightly as she regarded her son. “Aegon,” she began, her tone cautious but firm, “the traditions of Old Valyria are… not aligned with the Faith. Such a ceremony could be seen as—”

“Blasphemy?” Aegon interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “We are Targaryens, Mother. Our house was forged in fire and blood long before we ever set foot in Westeros. Why should we not honor that?”

Rhaenyra’s lips curved into a faint smile, clearly intrigued by Aegon’s rare display of conviction. “I agree with Aegon,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “A union of fire and blood—a traditional Valyrian ceremony—would be fitting for our houses, wouldn’t you say, Alicent?”

Alicent’s hands tightened around her goblet, her lips pressing into a thin line. “The people of the realm will not understand such a ceremony,” she said carefully. “It will sow doubt and unease among those who already question the Targaryen legacy.”

“The people will understand what I tell them to understand,” Aegon retorted, his tone sharp. “I am their prince, am I not?”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden assertiveness, but there was a fire in his eyes that you rarely saw. He turned to you then, his expression softening.

“What do you think, my love?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “This is your wedding too. Would you stand with me beneath the fire of our ancestors, as it was always meant to be?”

All eyes turned to you, the weight of the decision suddenly resting on your shoulders. You hesitated, glancing between your mother and Alicent. Rhaenyra’s gaze was steady, encouraging, while Alicent’s held a flicker of concern.

Finally, you looked back at Aegon and nodded. “Yes,” you said softly but firmly. “A Valyrian ceremony. It feels… right.”

Aegon’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile, and he reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Then it’s decided,” he said, looking back at the two mothers. “Our wedding will honor the blood of the dragon.”

Alicent sighed deeply, clearly displeased but knowing she would not win this argument. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, looked almost triumphant, a glint of pride in her eyes as she raised her goblet.

“To fire and blood,” she said, her voice ringing with finality.

Alicent took a deep breath, her face calm but resolute as she placed her goblet gently on the table. “If this is how it must be,” she began, her voice even, though there was an edge of determination, “then I propose a compromise. You will have your Valyrian ceremony, Aegon. But there will also be a traditional ceremony under the Faith of the Seven. Two ceremonies, as a symbol of unity—between the past and the present, between our heritage and the realm.”

Aegon’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening at the suggestion. “Two ceremonies?” he repeated, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Why should we need to cater to the Faith when this is our wedding?”

“It is not just your wedding, Aegon,” Alicent countered sharply, her gaze unwavering. “You are the Prince. This union is as much about the realm as it is about the two of you. The lords and people will look to this wedding as a reflection of the crown commitment to the Faith.”

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the exchange. “Aegon is right, Alicent,” she said smoothly, the title slipping from her lips with faint sarcasm. “This is their day. Why weigh it down with obligations to the Faith?”

Alicent’s gaze flicked to Rhaenyra, her calm demeanor barely concealing her irritation. “Because the Faith holds great power in this realm, Rhaenyra. Alienating them by favoring Valyrian customs alone would be foolish.”

Aegon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a headache. Then he turned to you, his expression softening. “What do you think?” he asked, his tone gentler now. “Do you truly want two ceremonies?”

You hesitated, glancing between your husband-to-be, your mother, and Alicent. The weight of expectation pressed down on you, but you knew your decision could shape not just your wedding day but the fragile peace between these two powerful women.

“I think…” you began carefully, your voice steady but thoughtful. “If having two ceremonies will ease the tensions and unite both sides, then so be it. We can honor both our Valyrian heritage and the Faith of the Seven.”

Aegon’s brows furrowed, a trace of disappointment crossing his face, but he said nothing. Rhaenyra’s expression grew thoughtful, her lips pressing together in a thin line, while Alicent gave a small, satisfied nod.

“Then it is settled,” Alicent said firmly. “The first ceremony will take place under the Faith of the Seven, in the Great Sept. The second will be the Valyrian ceremony you both desire. A compromise.”

Aegon leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “A compromise,” he repeated with a hint of sarcasm. He turned to you, his lips curving into a faint smile. “As long as you’re happy, I’ll endure it.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. Though the path ahead seemed complicated, you knew that with Aegon by your side, you could face whatever challenges came your way.

The discussion about your wedding had finally come to an end, though traces of tension still lingered in the air. You stood, smoothing your dress as you exchanged a final glance with Aegon, his reassuring smile giving you a small sense of comfort. Your mother gestured for you to follow her, and together, you began walking toward her private solar.

The corridors of the Red Keep were quiet, save for the soft echo of your footsteps. Rhaenyra glanced at you occasionally, her expression thoughtful. She finally broke the silence as you neared the solar.

“You handled yourself well back there,” she said, her tone both proud and encouraging. “Navigating between Alicent and Aegon is no small feat. You showed strength and wisdom.”

“Thank you, Mother,” you replied, though a part of you felt the weight of the decisions that had been made.

When you entered her solar, the warm glow of the fireplace illuminated the familiar space. Your father, Daemon, was seated near the hearth, his ever-present smirk hinting at his mood. Your brothers, Jace and Luke, were standing nearby, their postures casual yet attentive.

Daemon’s sharp eyes flicked to you as you entered. “So,” he began, his voice low and edged with curiosity, “has the Queen finally finished her sermon about the Faith?”

“Father,” Jace murmured with a faint laugh, though his expression was still serious.

Rhaenyra shot her husband a warning look before addressing him. “The matter has been resolved. There will be two ceremonies—one for the Faith, and one for Old Valyria.”

Daemon’s smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair. “Two ceremonies? How… diplomatic of you.” His gaze shifted to you, his tone softening slightly. “And what do you think of all this, daughter?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I think it’s the best way to honor both our traditions and keep the peace.”

Daemon’s expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. “Aegon is lucky you are the one keeping the peace for him. Without you, he’d likely stumble his way into chaos.”

Jace stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “Do you trust him?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Aegon, I mean.”

You looked at your brother, sensing his worry. “I do,” you said firmly, though the question lingered in your mind. “He has flaws, but I believe we understand each other.”

Luke grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s hope he doesn’t drink too much before either ceremony.”

Daemon chuckled at that, but Rhaenyra silenced him with a sharp look. “Enough,” she said firmly. “This is an important moment for our house. We must remain united.”

Her words carried weight, and you nodded, feeling a sense of purpose despite the challenges ahead. With your family’s support, you felt ready to face whatever lay before you.

The conversation shifted, the clinking of silverware and soft murmurs of your family creating a quiet hum in the room. Your mother’s gaze, which had often flickered to your younger brother, now settled on you, her expression contemplative. For a moment, she said nothing, merely observing you with an unreadable look.

Then, breaking the silence, Rhaenyra’s voice was soft but clear. “You know, after your wedding… I think you will be the one to carry on our house’s legacy,” she said, her gaze steady as she met your eyes. “Perhaps soon, you’ll give me a grandchild.”

Her words were gentle but direct, and they landed on you like a heavy weight. You felt a warmth rise to your cheeks, the thought of children so soon after marriage feeling overwhelming, yet somehow inevitable. The idea of becoming a mother was something you had imagined, but now that it was spoken aloud, it felt like the future was suddenly pressing in on you.

You flushed, unable to form an immediate response, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the conversation. Your mind raced with the thought of what marriage and the responsibility it would bring meant for you, for Aegon, and for your family.

But before you could gather your thoughts, the sound of Daemon’s voice cut through the moment. He had been sipping his wine, but the mention of grandchildren clearly took him by surprise. He sputtered slightly, quickly coughing and sitting up straighter in his chair, trying to regain composure. “Seven hells, Rhaenyra,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and mild horror, “I do not want my daughter to be… used for such purposes so soon.”

His words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of the earlier conversation. Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, as if she had expected such a reaction.

“You misunderstand, Daemon,” she said with a smile, but her voice was firm. “It’s natural, of course. Aegon will take care of her as his wife, and they will fulfill their duties. A grandchild would be a blessing, not something to fear.”

Daemon gave a dismissive grunt but did not argue further, though his disapproval was evident. His intense gaze shifted back to you, and there was a rare softness in his eyes. “Just… be careful, daughter,” he muttered, his voice a little more gravelly now. “Marriage is not all it seems. The world does not turn easily for women.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of both your parents’ concerns. Your mother’s desire for grandchildren and your father’s protective instincts blended into something that left you feeling uncertain about your own desires. You were caught between these expectations and the life you were about to begin with Aegon—an uncertain future where love, responsibility, and family would collide.

For a brief moment, you found yourself lost in thought, the heavy gaze of both your parents weighing on you. You wondered what the future would truly hold, and if you were truly ready for it.

The day of your wedding finally arrived, and the preparations seemed endless. Your chambers were filled with the soft rustle of silk and the quiet murmurs of your mother’s attendants as they adjusted the delicate wedding gown that clung to your frame. The fabric was exquisite, crafted from the finest silk in Westeros, its ivory hue shimmering under the warm glow of the room’s candles.

You stood before the tall mirror, staring at your reflection. The gown hugged your figure perfectly, its intricate embroidery glinting like stars scattered across the heavens. You tilted your head slightly, taking in every detail—the flowing train, the delicate lace sleeves, and the silver-threaded accents that reflected your Targaryen heritage.

Your mother, Rhaenyra, stood behind you, her hands gently smoothing the fabric over your shoulders. Her eyes, filled with a rare softness, met yours in the mirror. “You look perfect,” she said quietly, her voice steady but filled with pride. “You carry our legacy with grace, my daughter. This day will mark the beginning of a new chapter for you.”

Before you could respond, the door to your chambers opened. The sudden sound drew your attention, and you turned to see Alicent standing in the doorway. Her green dress, elegant yet simple, contrasted sharply against the pale tones of your gown. Her expression was carefully composed, though there was a flicker of something—perhaps nostalgia or longing—in her eyes as she looked at you.

“You’ll be a vision,” Alicent said, stepping further into the room. “The Realm will marvel at you."

Her words, though kind, carried a weight that was hard to ignore. You felt the tension between your mother and Alicent rise, subtle but palpable, as they exchanged brief glances. Alicent’s gaze then softened as it shifted to you, and she took a step closer.

“You remind me of myself on my wedding day,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost wistful. “So full of hope and dreams for the future.”

Your mother, standing protectively by your side, raised her chin slightly. “My daughter is stronger than you think,” she said evenly, her tone calm but firm. “She will make her own way, just as I have.”

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing more, choosing instead to step closer to examine the embroidery on your gown. “It’s a beautiful piece,” she remarked, her voice neutral once more. “It suits you.”

You nodded politely, feeling the subtle clash between the two women like a current in the air. Yet, in that moment, all you could focus on was the weight of the gown, the weight of their expectations, and the life that awaited you after this day.

As the attendants continued their careful adjustments to your gown, the door to your chambers opened once more. This time, it was your father, Daemon, who entered. His presence was commanding as always, though his expression was unusually soft. His violet eyes swept over you, taking in the sight of you in your wedding dress.

For a moment, he said nothing, simply standing there, his gaze lingering. Then, he stepped closer, his lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. “My little girl,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, but filled with emotion. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman… and now, you’re about to marry.”

His words caught you off guard, and your heart tightened at the emotion behind them. Daemon was rarely one to openly express his feelings, but now, there was no mistaking the pride—and the melancholy—in his tone.

He approached slowly, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he looked at you in the mirror. “It feels like just yesterday you were running around the Red Keep, challenging everyone with your fiery spirit,” he continued, his voice laced with a touch of wistfulness. “And now… you stand here, ready to step into a new chapter of your life.”

You turned slightly to face him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Father…” you began, your voice soft.

Daemon shook his head gently, as if to stop you from saying anything that might break the fragile moment. “You’ll make a formidable wife,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “And gods help Aegon if he doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have you.”

Behind you, your mother, Rhaenyra, watched the exchange with a quiet smile, though there was a glimmer of emotion in her eyes. Even Alicent, standing nearby, seemed to sense the gravity of the moment, her hands clasped before her as she watched father and daughter.

Daemon leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll always be my little girl,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. “No matter how much the world changes.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, nodding as you met his gaze. “Thank you, Father,” you said quietly.

He straightened, his usual composure returning, and he stepped back with a small, approving nod. “Now,” he said, his tone lighter, “let’s ensure the Realm remembers this wedding for years to come.”

His words brought a faint smile to your lips, and you turned back to the mirror, feeling a mix of emotions—love, pride, and the bittersweet realization that your life was about to change forever.

The final touches had been made. The maids carefully adjusted the veil cascading over your hair, ensuring every detail was perfect. The soft fabric framed your face beautifully, the delicate embroidery glinting faintly in the sunlight streaming through the window.

You took a steadying breath as you turned to the door. Standing there, waiting patiently, was your father, Daemon. His silver hair gleamed, and his expression was a mix of pride and bittersweet emotion.

As you stepped toward him, he took a moment to look at you, his violet eyes sweeping over your appearance. A rare, genuine smile curved his lips. “You look radiant,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth.

“Thank you, Father,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Daemon extended his arm to you, and you slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow. His grip was reassuring, grounding you as you began the walk toward the front courtyard where the carriage awaited.

The sun was bright in the clear sky as you emerged into the open air, the sounds of the castle bustling with preparations. The ornate carriage stood ready, its silver and black accents bearing the unmistakable marks of House Targaryen. The dragons emblazoned on its side seemed to gleam in the sunlight.

Daemon paused before helping you into the carriage, his hand lingering on yours. “This is the beginning of a new chapter,” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you. “But remember, no matter what lies ahead, you are a Targaryen. You are my daughter. And you are strong.”

His words filled you with a sense of purpose, and you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I won’t forget, Father.”

He smiled once more, helping you step into the carriage before following to take his seat beside you. The horses snorted, their hooves clattering against the cobblestones as the driver signaled for the procession to begin.

As the carriage began to roll toward the Great Sept, you felt the weight of the moment settle upon you. This was your wedding day, the day you would pledge yourself to Aegon in the sight of the Seven—and the beginning of a future you had long awaited.

The carriage came to a gentle stop, and the door was opened by one of the attendants. Your father stepped out first, his regal posture commanding attention as always. He turned to you, extending his hand to help you descend. His grip was firm yet tender as he steadied you.

The Great Sept loomed ahead, its grand arches and towering spires radiating sanctity and significance. The air was thick with the murmur of gathered nobles and the faint scent of incense.

Daemon tucked your hand securely into the crook of his arm, guiding you toward the altar. The grand doors of the Sept swung open, revealing the interior bathed in golden light from the towering stained glass windows. The faint melody of a harp accompanied your steps as you began your walk down the aisle.

Your heart raced as your gaze met Aegon’s. He stood at the altar, dressed in his finest, the golden crown of the Targaryens resting on his head. His expression was uncharacteristically solemn, though his eyes softened as they found yours.

The walk felt both eternal and fleeting, each step bringing you closer to him, to your future. When you reached the altar, Daemon paused, turning to face you fully.

With a rare gentleness, he lifted the veil from your face, letting it fall back over your shoulders. His violet eyes, so similar to your own, searched your face for a moment, and then he smiled—a small, genuine smile filled with pride and love.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering just a moment. “You’ll always be my little girl,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but carrying the weight of his emotion.

He stepped back, placing your hand in Aegon’s. His touch lingered for a brief moment, a silent reminder that no matter what, he would always be there for you.

Daemon gave Aegon a pointed look, a silent but clear warning: take care of her. Then, with a nod, he stepped aside, leaving you standing beside your soon-to-be husband as the ceremony began.

The Septon’s voice echoed through the grand hall, steady and solemn, as he began reciting the sacred vows of the Seven. The gathered lords and ladies fell silent, their gazes fixed on you and Aegon as the moment unfolded.

You stood across from Aegon, your hands joined as the Septon laid a length of braided ribbon across them, symbolizing the binding of your lives. The golden light streaming through the stained glass illuminated his face, softening the usual sharpness of his features.

As the Septon’s voice continued, you lifted your eyes to meet Aegon’s. His violet gaze held yours, filled with an unspoken mix of emotions—nervousness, tenderness, and something that resembled quiet determination.

The world seemed to fade away, the grandeur of the Sept and the weight of the audience blurring into the background. In that moment, it was just the two of you, bound by the vows you were about to take.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..." your voices carried the weight of conviction and devotion.

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," Aegon vowed, his voice filled with unwavering commitment.

"I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," your voice echoed. your voices intertwined, your souls merging in that sacred space.

The ribbon was removed as the Septon pronounced the union blessed by the Seven. Aegon’s smile was small but genuine as he leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips to seal the vows.

The hall erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could hear was the soft echo of your heartbeat as you looked into his eyes, knowing this was the start of your shared journey.

The grand hall of the Red Keep was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. The celebration of your marriage was in full swing, the lords and ladies of Westeros gathered to honor the union. The throne room had been transformed, the usual solemnity replaced with joy and grandeur.

You sat beside Aegon at the high table, your hand resting lightly on his arm. He leaned closer occasionally, his voice low as he murmured words only meant for you. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, though your attention was soon pulled away when your father, Daemon, stood from his seat.

His sharp, commanding presence drew the attention of the room. He stepped forward, his violet eyes locking onto you. A faint smirk played on his lips as he extended his hand toward you.

“Come, my daughter,” Daemon said, his voice smooth and confident, “Let us show them how a Targaryen dances.”

The room fell silent for a brief moment, anticipation crackling in the air. You glanced at Aegon, who gave you a small nod, and then you took your father’s hand. He helped you rise, leading you toward the center of the hall where the musicians struck up a lively tune.

Daemon’s hand settled on your waist as the two of you began to move, your steps graceful and in perfect sync with his. The rhythm of the music swirled around you, the eyes of the court watching in awe.

“You look radiant tonight,” Daemon said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Thank you, Father,” you replied, a touch of warmth in your tone.

As the music picked up, Daemon twirled you effortlessly, the hem of your gown sweeping across the polished floor. The crowd clapped in time with the music, their cheers rising as you moved with an elegance befitting a Targaryen princess.

When the dance came to an end, Daemon bowed to you with exaggerated flourish, drawing laughter from the crowd. You curtsied in return, your cheeks flushed from the exhilaration.

Daemon led you back to Aegon, placing your hand in his. “Your turn, boy,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes before retreating to the sidelines.

Aegon stood and took your hand, pulling you close as the music shifted to a softer melody. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Shall we show them how it’s really done?”

With a smile, you nodded, letting him lead you onto the floor, the crowd parting to give you both space. Together, you danced, the bond between you growing with every step.

The music swirled around you, the rhythm pulsing through your body as Aegon led you across the floor. The eyes of the court were upon you, but in that moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away. All that existed was you and him, dancing in perfect harmony. His smile, his eyes—there was a lightness in his gaze that made your heart flutter with every glance.

Aegon leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered playful words, his breath warm against your skin. Each whisper sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of the moment. The laughter from his jokes echoed softly in your mind as the music seemed to slow, the final notes drawing nearer.

As the music reached its peak, Aegon twirled you, the fabric of your gown swirling around you as he spun you gracefully. The world seemed to blur for a moment, the movement so fluid, so natural, until he pulled you back into his arms with a gentle yet firm grip. Your heart raced as his hands settled on your waist, and in that moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

Aegon looked at you with a softness that contrasted the strength in his stance. The distance between you closed, and without a word, he kissed you—slow and deep, a kiss that carried the weight of the vows you had just made, of the journey ahead of you. The kiss lingered for a moment, soft yet filled with a promise of everything to come.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, the room erupted into applause, the cheers mingling with the fading notes of the music. But all you could hear, all you could feel, was Aegon’s presence, his touch, the steady beat of your hearts in sync.

The night was still young, and you knew that this was only the beginning.

As the music continued to fade, a loud voice rang out from one of the guests, calling for a bedding ceremony to be held. The declaration echoed through the hall, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air. The traditional custom was infamous for its brazen display of intimacy, something that, under the wrong circumstances, could become a source of embarrassment rather than celebration.

Your heart sank at the mention of it, but before you could react, Daemon, stood tall and imposing, his voice cutting through the room. “That will not be happening,” he said, his tone firm and resolute, a hint of annoyance lacing his words. “My daughter is not an animal to be put on display for your amusement.”

There was a tense moment of stillness as the room waited for the next move. Aegon, standing beside you, immediately took your hand with a reassuring squeeze, his voice calm but equally firm. “I agree with Daemon,” he said, his eyes scanning the crowd, filled with a quiet, dangerous intensity. “The bedding ceremony is a disgrace, and it has no place at our wedding. You will not demand it here.”

The crowd fell silent, the tension palpable. It was clear that both Daemon and Aegon stood united in rejecting the idea, their authority and influence silencing any further protests. Aegon’s hand tightened around yours, the bond between you both growing stronger in the face of such a ridiculous demand.

Your father glanced at you, a silent gesture of protection in his eyes, and then turned to the rest of the guests with a final, imperious look. “The night is to celebrate their union, not to satisfy your vulgar curiosities,” he declared. The room, now aware of the boundaries being set, fell into a respectful quiet, some guests murmuring but ultimately understanding the stance.

The tension began to dissipate, and the focus shifted back to you and Aegon, your hands still joined. The weight of the moment lifted as you stood there together, united not just in vows, but also in defiance of the petty customs that had no place in your lives.

Aegon leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Let them gossip,” he whispered with a grin. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters.”

The evening air was cool as you and Aegon walked back to your chambers, the sounds of the celebration fading behind you. You could still feel the warmth of the dance and the weight of the guests’ gaze, but now, with the room finally quiet, you could let the tension slip away.

As you entered your chamber, the door closing softly behind you, the two of you exchanged a glance. The weight of the upcoming journey to Dragonstone loomed, but there was a strange sense of peace now that the night’s events had passed. The quiet was a welcome respite before the next steps, before the second ceremony, which would take place with the traditions of Old Valyria, a world away from the pomp and ceremony you’d just endured.

Aegon moved to the window, looking out toward the horizon where the sun would soon set, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink. He turned to you, his gaze softer now, the earlier intensity replaced with something quieter. “I know you’ve had enough for today,” he said, his voice low, “But I think we both need to rest before we face what comes next.”

You nodded, your tired eyes meeting his. The day had been full of emotion, and there was something calming about being in this space, just the two of you. You moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Aegon joined you, his presence always warm and grounding.

For a moment, you both sat in silence, the peaceful stillness of your shared space allowing the chaos of the day to slowly fade away. The wedding on Dragonstone would be different, more intimate, yet filled with its own expectations. You would both face that challenge together, but for now, you could simply be.

Aegon reached out to gently take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “After Dragonstone,” he murmured, “We will make this marriage our own. All the traditions, the customs… they won’t define us. Only what we choose to build together will.”

You squeezed his hand in return, a quiet agreement passing between you both. There would be more ceremonies, more battles with tradition, but what mattered most was the life you would create together—united by your love, not the expectations of others.

With a soft sigh, you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the day finally begin to lift. The journey ahead was uncertain, but as long as you had Aegon by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next. And for now, that was enough.

The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and freedom as the ship gently docked at Dragonstone. The journey had felt swift, perhaps because your mind had been preoccupied with the thought of the second ceremony—the one that truly mattered to both you and Aegon. His hand remained firmly in yours as you stepped off the ship, the volcanic island’s jagged cliffs and ancient castle rising before you.

Aegon’s grip tightened slightly, a silent reassurance as you descended the gangplank. The two of you exchanged a brief smile, the bond between you strong and unspoken. Alicent was already waiting, her expression calm but watchful, while your mother, Rhaenyra, stood with a regal air beside her. The contrast between the two women was stark, but for once, they seemed united in purpose: ensuring the ceremony later that evening would be perfect.

“Come,” Rhaenyra said with a small smile, motioning for you to follow. “There is much to do before the sun sets.”

Alicent nodded, stepping forward. “We’ll have you ready in time,” she added, her tone softer than usual, though her hands betrayed her tension as they clasped tightly before her.

You glanced back at Aegon as your mother and Alicent ushered you toward the castle, his reassuring smile lingering even as the distance between you grew. The ancient halls of Dragonstone felt almost alive, the walls whispering secrets of the Targaryen legacy. It was fitting, you thought, that the Valyrian ceremony would take place here, surrounded by the echoes of your ancestors.

Inside the castle, you were taken to a chamber overlooking the sea. The sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting golden hues over the intricate gown that awaited you. The fabric shimmered like dragon scales, the traditional marital robes of Valyria which is a pale white with red dyed edges. The deep red of House Targaryen woven into the design. It was a stark contrast to the Seven Kingdoms’ traditional wedding attire but felt infinitely more like home.

As the maids began to help you prepare, your mother stood by, her gaze soft yet proud. “This is how it should be,” she said, her voice carrying a sense of finality. “A union bound not just by words, but by blood, fire, and history.”

Alicent, standing beside her, added, “It may not be my tradition, but I see its beauty. And I see how much this means to both of you.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with anticipation. This ceremony wasn’t just for tradition—it was for you and Aegon, a chance to start your lives together in a way that truly reflected who you were. As the preparations continued, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below seemed to echo your growing excitement.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you stood with Aegon again, this time to pledge yourselves to each other in the ancient Valyrian way.

The cool wind of Dragonstone whipped around you as you stood on the edge of the cliff, the sea roaring below, a testament to the raw, untamed power of this sacred place. The setting sun cast hues of gold and crimson across the sky, mirroring the colors of House Targaryen, as you faced Aegon. His violet eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of reverence and love, a stark contrast to the usual playful smirk he wore.

Daemon, ever the keeper of tradition, had brought a septon who was well-versed in the ancient rites of Old Valyria. The man stood between you and Aegon, his presence almost dwarfed by the magnitude of the ceremony about to unfold. Around you, your family bore witness, their faces solemn and proud. Rhaenyra stood with Alicent, an unspoken truce in their shared pride. Your father’s piercing gaze watched every movement, while your siblings looked on, their expressions ranging from awe to curiosity.

The septon began to chant in High Valyrian, the ancient words flowing like a song. He held a chalice of Valyrian steel, filled with dragonbone ash and seawater, symbols of your shared heritage and the unbreakable bond you were about to forge.

Aegon stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours, steady and unwavering. The septon handed you both small daggers, their blades gleaming in the fading light. “With blood, we bind,” he intoned, his voice carrying over the waves.

You felt the weight of the dagger in your hand as you pressed the blade against your palm, mirroring Aegon. A sharp sting, and then the warmth of blood pooled in your hand. Aegon extended his hand to you, his blood mingling with yours as you clasped hands, sealing your union in the way of your ancestors.

The septon’s chant grew louder, his words resonating with the power of the old ways. “Fire and blood unite, unbroken by time, unyielding as stone.”

Aegon leaned in, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “From this moment, you are mine, as I am yours. Always.”

The flames from nearby torches danced in his eyes, and you could feel the truth in his words, the promise that bound you to him in body, mind, and soul.

The septon poured the ash and seawater mixture over your joined hands, finalizing the ritual. “May the blood of the dragon burn bright and eternal,” he declared, his voice a proclamation to the gods and the world.

As the ceremony concluded, Aegon cupped your face with his free hand, pulling you into a kiss that felt as fiery and unyielding as the bond you had just forged. The cheers of your family echoed around you, but in that moment, there was only the two of you, standing united against the world.

A year had passed since your union with Aegon, and the days had grown into a steady rhythm of love and understanding. The tension that once lingered in the air had dissolved, replaced by a calm happiness that surrounded you both like a warm embrace.

As you stood before the mirror in your chambers, your hand instinctively rested on your growing belly. The sight filled you with a sense of pride and anticipation. This was the fruit of your love, a child born not just of duty but of genuine affection. You smiled softly, feeling the faint flutter of movement beneath your hand, a gentle reminder that the little life inside you was almost ready to meet the world.

Behind you, Aegon approached, his reflection appearing in the mirror as he stepped closer. His hands slid around your waist, resting protectively over yours on your belly. “You look radiant,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and adoration.

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your smile widening. “And you look nervous,” you teased lightly, though you could see the excitement in his eyes.

“I am,” he admitted with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’m also ready. I’ve been ready since the day you told me.”

The memory brought warmth to your chest. You had been hesitant to share the news at first, unsure of how he would react. But the way he had embraced you, his joy uncontainable, had reassured you in ways words never could.

Aegon gently turned you to face him, his hands still cradling your growing belly. “You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for,” he said softly. “This child, this family… You’ve made me better, stronger.”

You placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “And you’ve given me a home, Aegon. A place where I belong, with you.”

The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. One of the maids entered cautiously, bowing her head. “The Queen and Princess Rhaenyra have arrived to see you, Your Graces.”

You exchanged a glance with Aegon before nodding. “Let them in,” you said, your tone warm.

As the two women entered, Alicent’s expression softened at the sight of you, her eyes lingering on your belly. Rhaenyra, too, smiled, her gaze filled with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

“It won’t be long now,” Alicent said gently, stepping closer. “How are you feeling?”

“Eager,” you admitted, glancing at Aegon. “We both are.”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly. “The waiting is always the hardest part. But trust me, it’s worth it.”

As the four of you spoke, the weight of history and tradition seemed to fade into the background. In its place was a shared hope for the future, a future shaped by love, family, and the new life soon to join your world.

The warm sun bathed the gardens in golden light as you strolled alongside your mothers, Rhaenyra and Alicent. The cool breeze brought the scent of blooming flowers, a welcome reprieve from the walls of the Red Keep. Your hand rested lightly on your rounded belly, a small smile gracing your lips as you relished the freedom of walking on your own—something you had fought hard to reclaim.

Aegon walked just a step behind you, his protective gaze following your every move. Ever since the announcement of your pregnancy, he had taken it upon himself to ensure your safety at all costs. It was endearing, but at times, overwhelming. Your father, Daemon, had been no better, his fierce protectiveness rivaling even Aegon’s. Between the two of them, you had scarcely been allowed to lift a finger, let alone take a step without someone hovering nearby.

It had taken both Rhaenyra and Alicent to intervene on your behalf, convincing the men to allow you some independence. “She is carrying a child, not a dragon egg,” Rhaenyra had remarked with a smirk, while Alicent’s soothing words had managed to calm their protests.

“You see, I’m perfectly fine,” you said over your shoulder to Aegon, your tone teasing. “No need to hover.”

Aegon huffed, crossing his arms but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You say that now, but if anything happens—”

“Nothing will happen,” Alicent interjected gently, placing a hand on Aegon’s arm. “Let her enjoy this moment. She deserves it.”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly, her arm looping through yours as she guided you toward a shaded bench beneath a sprawling tree. “You’ve been walking for all of five minutes, and he’s already ready to carry you back inside,” she teased, earning a glare from Aegon.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides, it’s not as though I’m running laps around the courtyard.”

As you settled onto the bench, Aegon took a seat beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours. Despite his overprotectiveness, you couldn’t deny the comfort his presence brought.

“I just want you to be safe,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“And I will be,” you reassured him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “But you have to let me breathe, Aegon. I’m not as fragile as you think.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles soft. As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in weeks, you were surrounded by the people who mattered most, their love and support enveloping you like a warm embrace.

The sound of your father’s voice calling your name startled you, drawing your attention toward him as he strode purposefully into the garden. His sharp eyes immediately fixed on you, narrowing as they took in your relaxed posture on the bench.

“Why are you out of your chambers?” Daemon asked, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. His hand rested on the hilt of Dark Sister, as though he expected danger to leap out of the bushes at any moment.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of his protectiveness settle heavily over you once again. Turning your gaze to your mother, Rhaenyra, you silently pleaded with her to step in. She met your eyes with an amused smirk, clearly enjoying your predicament, but eventually, she relented.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra began, her voice calm yet firm, “she’s perfectly fine. The maesters have assured us that walking is good for her and the child. Let her breathe, for the gods’ sake.”

Daemon’s lips thinned as he looked between the two of you. “I don’t trust maesters or their assurances,” he muttered. “She’s carrying my grandchild, and I won’t risk anything happening to either of them.”

Alicent, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a soft smile. “Daemon, she’s surrounded by her family and has been careful. Surely, you can see there’s no harm in her enjoying the fresh air for a short while?”

Daemon huffed, crossing his arms but not arguing further. Instead, he turned his attention back to you. “If you feel even the slightest discomfort, you’re to return to your chambers immediately,” he said sternly.

You smiled at his concern, even if it was overbearing. “Yes, Father,” you replied, your tone laced with gentle amusement. “But I promise, I’m fine.”

Aegon, who had remained quiet until now, chuckled softly. “You see, my prince, your daughter is as stubborn as you are. There’s no point in arguing with her.”

Daemon shot him a pointed look but said nothing, instead walking over to place a protective hand on your shoulder. “I only want you safe,” he murmured, his voice softening.

“I know,” you replied, reaching up to squeeze his hand. “And I appreciate it more than you know.”

With that, the tension eased, and the conversation shifted once more, leaving you to enjoy the moment surrounded by those who cared for you deeply—even if they did have a tendency to hover.

As Daemon and Aegon engaged in conversation a few steps away, their tones alternating between casual remarks and the occasional chuckle, your mothers turned their attention fully to you.

Rhaenyra, seated beside you, gently ran her fingers through your hair, her touch soothing. “You’ve always been so strong,” she murmured, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Even now, you handle everything with such grace. I’m proud of you.”

You glanced up at her, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Mother,” you said softly. “It’s not always easy, but having all of you here makes it better.”

Meanwhile, Alicent busied herself with selecting a small plate of fruit from the table nearby. She handed it to you, her eyes filled with motherly concern. “You must eat, dear. The baby needs nourishment, and so do you,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm.

You accepted the plate with a grateful nod, plucking a piece of sweet melon and taking a bite. “Thank you, Mother,” you said with a smile.

Alicent returned your smile, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “You’re glowing,” she said softly. “This child will be blessed with so much love, I’m sure of it.”

Rhaenyra chuckled lightly, still running her fingers through your hair. “Blessed and spoiled, no doubt,” she teased, her gaze flickering toward Daemon and Aegon. “With those two vying for the title of most protective, this child will have an army of guardians.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “It’s already starting,” you said, glancing toward your husband and father.

As if sensing your gaze, Aegon turned his head, flashing you a smile that made your heart flutter. Daemon, too, glanced your way, his expression softening for a brief moment before he resumed his conversation with Aegon.

Surrounded by the love and care of your family, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Though they could be overbearing at times, their presence was a constant reminder of how deeply they cared for you—and for the life growing within you.

Rhaenyra’s fingers stilled in your hair for a moment as she looked at you, her violet eyes filled with a deep, maternal pride. “You know,” she began softly, her voice steady and filled with emotion, “you’re the one who holds this family together. You’re our bridge, the reason we’ve found peace after so much strife.”

You blinked, caught off guard by her words. “Mother, I’m not sure that’s true…” you murmured, glancing down at your hands resting on your rounded belly.

Rhaenyra leaned closer, cupping your cheek with a hand warm and reassuring. “It is true,” she said firmly. “Without you, this would still be a house divided. You’ve brought us together, made us see what’s most important—family. You are the heart of this house.”

Alicent, seated nearby, nodded in agreement, her green eyes glistening. “She’s right,” Alicent said softly. “You’ve done what I thought was impossible. You’ve made us see past old wounds and find a way forward. And for that, I will always be grateful.”

Your chest tightened with emotion as their words sank in. You glanced toward Daemon and Aegon, who were deep in conversation, their differences seemingly forgotten in the shared joy of the life you were bringing into the world.

“I never set out to do that,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… wanted us to be a family.”

“And that’s exactly why it worked,” Rhaenyra said, her voice filled with warmth. “You remind us of what truly matters. You’ve shown us all that love and unity are stronger than any quarrel.”

Alicent placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch light yet filled with affection. “This child will be the symbol of that unity,” she said. “Born of love, surrounded by a family who, despite everything, has come together for you—for all of us.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness. They were from the overwhelming gratitude and pride you felt to be part of something bigger, to know that, in your own way, you had helped mend the rifts that had once torn your family apart.

The golden hues of the setting sun were fading, replaced by the soft glow of torches lining the corridors of the Red Keep. The cool breeze of the evening whispered through the open windows as you walked alongside Aegon, your mothers following close behind.

Viserys’s summons had been clear—he wanted the family to dine together every night, starting from the day of your marriage. It was his way of fostering unity and ensuring the bonds between you all grew stronger.

When you arrived at his private solar, the door was opened by a servant, revealing a cozy and intimate dining space. The table was already set with a feast of roasted meats, fresh bread, and rich wines, the scents wafting invitingly through the room.

Seated at the table were Aemond and Helaena, both turning their heads as you entered. Aemond’s sharp gaze lingered on you briefly before shifting to Aegon, while Helaena offered you a warm smile, her ever-gentle demeanor bringing a sense of calm to the room.

At the head of the table sat Viserys himself, his frailty apparent in his thin frame and tired eyes, but his expression held a warmth reserved only for his family. “Ah, there you are,” he said, his voice rasping yet full of affection. “Come, sit. Let us enjoy this evening together.”

Aegon guided you to your seat beside him, pulling the chair out for you before settling in. Alicent and Rhaenyra took their places on either side of the table, their shared glances a quiet acknowledgment of the fragile peace between them.

As the servants poured wine and began to serve the meal, Viserys’s gaze swept over everyone, a glimmer of satisfaction lighting his weary face. “It brings me joy to see all of you here,” he said, his tone earnest. “This family has endured much, but tonight, let us set aside the past and simply enjoy one another’s company.”

You felt Aegon’s hand brush against yours under the table, a subtle gesture of reassurance. You glanced at him, and he smiled, his usual mischief replaced by something softer, more genuine.

As the evening unfolded, the conversation shifted from light banter to shared stories, laughter occasionally echoing through the room. For a moment, it felt as though the tensions that often loomed over the Targaryen family had dissipated, replaced by a fragile yet comforting sense of unity.

The sharp pangs in your abdomen stirred you from sleep, leaving you breathless for a moment. You instinctively placed a hand on your swollen belly, trying to calm the ache that radiated from within. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the moon, its light filtering through the window. Aegon lay beside you, his breathing deep and even, completely unaware of your discomfort.

You glanced toward the window, noting the darkness outside; dawn was still far off. Carefully, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cool stone floor. Each movement was deliberate and quiet as you didn’t want to disturb Aegon.

Once you were standing, you exhaled slowly, pressing a hand against your lower back to ease the tension there. The pain wasn’t constant, but it came in waves, enough to make you restless. You paced the length of your chamber, hoping the movement would help.

As you walked, your mind raced. Was this it? Was the baby coming early? Or was it simply the usual discomfort of pregnancy? You weren’t sure, but you wanted to be certain before raising any alarm.

Leaning against the edge of a chair, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale. The pain subsided briefly, giving you a moment of relief, but it returned shortly after, sharper this time.

A soft groan escaped your lips, and you stifled it quickly, glancing toward Aegon to ensure he hadn’t woken. His form remained unmoving under the covers, his face peaceful in sleep. You hesitated, wondering if you should wake him or call for the midwives, but the thought of disturbing him unnecessarily held you back.

You clutched the armrest tightly, bracing yourself as another wave of pain hit. Something told you that tonight was going to be a long one.

The night had felt endless, your pacing a desperate attempt to endure the relentless waves of pain that coursed through you. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, and the weight of exhaustion pressed heavily upon you. Sweat dampened your hair, clinging to your skin as you continued to walk, unable to find relief.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow, you heard the faint rustle of movement from behind. Turning slightly, you saw Aegon stir, his sleepy eyes blinking against the light.

When his gaze landed on you—your disheveled appearance, the sweat on your brow, and the way you clutched your belly—concern instantly replaced the grogginess in his expression.

“Love,” he called out, his voice rough with sleep but heavy with worry. “What’s wrong?”

You paused, gripping the back of a chair to steady yourself, and tried to offer him a reassuring smile, though it faltered under the strain of another sharp pain. “It’s… nothing,” you managed to say between breaths, though the lie was thin.

Aegon was already out of bed, his worry growing as he closed the distance between you. His hands gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the strands of damp hair clinging to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing,” he said firmly, his voice laced with panic. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I didn’t want to—” you began, but another wave of pain cut you off, forcing you to clutch his arm for support.

“That’s it,” Aegon declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re calling the maester. Now.”

Before you could protest, Aegon was already moving, shouting orders to the guards outside the door. His protective nature had fully taken over, and for once, you were grateful for his assertiveness. As you sank into the nearest chair, your heart pounded not only from the pain but also from the realization that the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.

The door to your chamber burst open, and the maester entered first, followed closely by several midwives carrying linens and basins. Behind them, your mothers, Alicent and Rhaenyra, hurried in with expressions of alarm and worry etched across their faces. Their hair was slightly disheveled, and their gowns bore the telltale signs of haste, as though they had barely managed to dress before rushing to your side.

Aegon stepped aside to give them space but remained close, his hand gripping yours tightly as the maester approached. Rhaenyra’s gaze darted to you, taking in your pale face and the way you clutched your belly. She knelt beside you instantly, brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead.

“My dear,” Rhaenyra murmured softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “You should have sent for us sooner. How long have you been enduring this pain?”

Alicent was not far behind, her sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on you. “You’ll be fine,” she said, though her voice carried a mix of reassurance and command, as if willing you to stay strong. “The maester and midwives are here now.”

The maester stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully before addressing you. “Princess, may I examine you?”

You nodded weakly, leaning back as the midwives helped you into a more comfortable position. Rhaenyra held one of your hands, her face pale but composed, while Alicent stood at your other side, her hand resting gently on your shoulder for support.

Aegon hovered nearby, his jaw tight and his eyes fixed on you. “Is she going to be alright?” he demanded, his voice taut with worry.

The maester glanced at Aegon briefly before focusing on his task. “The labor has begun, Your Grace. It’s progressing steadily, though it may take some time.”

Hearing those words, the tension in the room grew. Rhaenyra tightened her grip on your hand, and Alicent exchanged a glance with Aegon. Both women, despite their differences, seemed united in their concern for you.

“You’re strong,” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ll get through this, my sweet girl.”

Alicent added, her tone firm, “We’re here. You’re not alone.”

The labor had only just begun, but with your husband and both your mothers at your side, you felt a spark of courage amid the pain.

The door creaked open, and all eyes turned to see your father, Daemon, standing in the doorway. His usual composed and commanding demeanor was absent; instead, his face betrayed something you had never seen before—fear.

He stepped into the room slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. The sight of you, pale and sweating, gripping your belly in pain, seemed to unnerve him in a way no battlefield ever could. For a moment, he hesitated, as though unsure whether to approach, before his gaze softened, and he took a step closer.

“Sweetling,” he said, his voice unusually quiet, almost tentative.

The room fell silent save for your labored breaths. Even Alicent and Rhaenyra glanced at each other, their rivalry momentarily forgotten in the presence of his uncharacteristic vulnerability.

Daemon knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to brush the sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Why didn’t anyone wake me sooner?” he asked, his voice strained, barely masking the panic underneath.

You managed a faint smile despite the pain. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Worry me?” he repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You’re my child. How could I not be worried?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat to steady himself.

Aegon stood nearby, watching the exchange closely. He seemed surprised by the raw emotion in Daemon’s voice, as if he, too, had never seen this side of him.

Rhaenyra stepped forward and placed a hand on Daemon’s shoulder, grounding him. “She’s strong,” she said softly, glancing at you. “She’ll get through this, just as I did. You remember.”

Daemon exhaled deeply, his expression conflicted. He nodded, though his hand still lingered near yours, as if afraid to let go. “I’ll stay,” he said firmly, looking at the maester and midwives. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Aegon moved to your other side, taking your hand again. “Neither am I,” he said, his voice steady with determination.

Surrounded by the people who loved you most, you felt a small surge of comfort amidst the pain. Whatever lay ahead, you knew you would face it together.A sharp wave of pain tore through you, and the tears spilled freely down your cheeks. You shook your head, clutching at Aegon’s hand with trembling fingers. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” you gasped, your voice breaking as you tried to steady your breathing.

Aegon leaned closer, his other hand gently brushing your hair back. “Yes, you can,” he said softly, though his voice carried a firm conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this.”

Rhaenyra knelt beside you, her hand resting over yours. “Listen to me, sweet girl,” she said, her voice steady and soothing. “I’ve been where you are now, and I know how it feels like it’s impossible, but you’re stronger than you know. Trust yourself.”

Alicent stood just behind her, her hands clasped tightly as if in silent prayer. When she spoke, her voice was gentle but full of encouragement. “You’ve come this far, and soon you’ll hold your child in your arms. Focus on that—on your strength and your love for them.”

Another contraction hit, and you cried out, your body tense with the effort. Daemon stepped closer, his face a mask of both worry and determination. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, grounding you. “You are my daughter,” he said, his tone unyielding. “There is fire in your blood. You will see this through.”

Surrounded by their words of comfort and unwavering belief in you, something inside you began to shift. You took a deep, shaky breath, leaning into Aegon’s touch as you found a sliver of strength within the storm of pain.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

“And we’ll be right here with you,” Aegon promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead as another contraction built. Together, they steadied you, their love becoming the anchor you needed to face what was ahead.

The maester’s voice was calm yet firm as he instructed, “It’s time, princess. On the next contraction, you need to push with all your strength.”

You gripped Aegon’s hand tightly, your knuckles white as another wave of pain surged through you. With a deep breath, you pushed, every fiber of your being straining as you fought to bring your child into the world.

“That’s it,” Rhaenyra encouraged, her voice steady by your ear. “You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little more.”

Alicent stood near the maester, her hands clasped tightly together in silent support. “You can do this,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Stay strong, dear.”

Aegon’s other hand brushed the damp hair from your face as he whispered soothing words, his voice filled with both awe and worry. “I’m here, love. You’re doing amazing.”

Another contraction hit, and you cried out, the effort draining every ounce of strength from you. “I can’t… I can’t…” you gasped, shaking your head as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you.

“Yes, you can,” Daemon said firmly from where he stood nearby, his eyes fierce yet glistening with emotion. “Keep going, my love. You’re almost there.”

With their encouragement surrounding you like a shield, you drew on reserves of strength you didn’t know you had. You pushed again, and the room filled with the maester’s voice. “I see the head! One more, Princess. One more push.”

Tears streamed down your face as you gave it everything you had, a guttural cry escaping your lips. And then, suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a newborn’s first cry—a sound so pure and powerful that it seemed to silence everything else.

The maester held up the tiny, wriggling baby, a look of relief and joy on his face. “It’s a boy,” he announced.

Aegon’s breath caught, and his eyes filled with tears as he looked at his son. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You did it, love.”

The maester placed the baby in your arms, and all the pain, fear, and exhaustion faded away as you gazed down at him. His tiny fingers curled instinctively, and his cries softened as he felt the warmth of your skin.

Rhaenyra and Alicent both leaned closer, their faces shining with pride and joy. Daemon, for once, was silent, his eyes fixed on you and the child you held.

“He’s perfect,” you whispered, tears streaming as you looked at Aegon, who leaned down to press a kiss to both your forehead and the baby’s. “He’s perfect.”

The peace of holding your son in your arms was short-lived. A sharp, familiar pain tore through you once more, causing you to gasp. Your grip on the baby tightened briefly before Aegon gently took him from your arms, his face etched with concern.

“What is it?” Aegon asked, his voice trembling as he looked between you and the maester.

One of the midwives checked quickly, her hands moving with urgency. “There’s another,” she announced, her voice filled with both surprise and certainty. “There’s another baby.”

Gasps filled the room as the realization settled over everyone. Rhaenyra stepped closer, her hand gripping yours tightly. “Twins,” she whispered, a mixture of awe and worry in her voice.

“No, no,” you whimpered, shaking your head as the pain surged again. “I can’t… I don’t have anything left.”

“Yes, you do,” Alicent said firmly, her voice a soothing command. “You are stronger than this pain. You’ve already done it once—you can do it again.”

Aegon placed your firstborn into Rhaenyra’s arms before kneeling beside you, his face level with yours. “Look at me,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “You’re not alone in this. You can do this. For them, for us.”

The maester’s voice broke through the moment. “The second child is positioned well, my lady. It’s time to push again.”

Summoning every ounce of strength left in your body, you bore down, the pain feeling unbearable, yet you knew you had no choice. Each push was harder than the last, the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm you.

“You’re almost there,” Rhaenyra said, her voice steady with determination. Alicent nodded beside her, offering her own quiet reassurances.

With a final, desperate push, the pain seemed to peak and then suddenly vanish, replaced by the sharp cry of another newborn.

“It’s a girl!” the maester declared, lifting the tiny baby for everyone to see.

Tears poured down your face as the midwife carefully placed your daughter in your arms. She was smaller than her brother but just as perfect, her cries softening as she felt your warmth.

Aegon let out a choked laugh, brushing the hair from your damp forehead. “Twins,” he whispered, his eyes filled with wonder. “Our family has doubled in one night.”

The room was filled with quiet awe as everyone looked down at the two newborns, now swaddled and safe in their parents’ arms. The pain and exhaustion faded into the background as you gazed at them, overwhelmed by the love and pride surging through you.

“They’re ours,” you whispered, looking at Aegon with a tired but radiant smile.

“They’re everything,” he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips and then to each of his children.

The room had grown quieter after the whirlwind of events, leaving only you, Aegon, and your newborn twins basking in the stillness of the moment. Both babies rested peacefully in your arms, swaddled tightly in soft linens. Aegon sat beside you on the bed, his hand gently tracing the outline of his daughter’s tiny fingers as she grasped at him instinctively.

Your mothers and father had left moments ago, promising to return after freshening up for court, though they had each lingered with soft kisses to your forehead and whispered reassurances of their pride.

“They couldn’t stop fussing over us,” Aegon chuckled softly, his tone filled with warmth.

You gave him a tired smile, leaning back against the cushions for support. “I think they’ll be back the moment they’re presentable. They won’t be able to stay away from the twins.”

Aegon nodded, his eyes never leaving the twins. “And who could blame them?” He shifted closer to you, gently cradling your son from your arms. “Look at them. They’re perfect.”

You watched as Aegon studied your son, the softest smile playing on his lips. The little one stirred in his father’s arms but soon settled again, his tiny chest rising and falling steadily.

“They’ll have your courage,” Aegon murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And your strength.”

“And your determination,” you added, reaching out to brush a strand of his hair from his face.

He laughed lightly. “Let’s hope they inherit the best of us both.”

The weight of exhaustion was still heavy on your body, but the love that filled the room was stronger. As you held your daughter close, Aegon leaned in to kiss her tiny forehead, then yours.

“Rest, love,” he said softly. “I’ll stay here and watch over all three of you.”

You nodded, your eyes growing heavy as you leaned into his shoulder. With your family surrounding you, the world outside could wait a little while longer.

The soft sound of Aegon’s laughter pulled you from your slumber. Slowly, you opened your eyes to find the room aglow with the presence of your family. The sight filled you with warmth: your husband was cradling your daughter in his arms, an expression of pure joy lighting up his face. He looked more at ease than you’d ever seen him, gently rocking her and whispering something only she could hear.

Turning your gaze, you saw your mother, Rhaenyra, tenderly holding your son. She looked down at the little bundle in her arms with such affection, her fingers brushing softly against his tiny silver curls. Her expression was one of pride and love, the same one she often reserved for you when you were younger.

Your room buzzed with quiet conversation and soft laughter. Alicent and Heleana stood nearby, exchanging words in hushed tones as they admired the twins. Daemon and Viserys were engaged in their own discussion, though their eyes kept wandering toward the babies with expressions of pride. Jace and Luke sat at the foot of your bed, eagerly leaning in to get a better look at their newest family members.

You turned back to Aegon, your heart swelling at the sight of him holding your daughter so naturally. He noticed you were awake and smiled down at you, his eyes softening. “Look who’s finally up,” he teased lightly. “I told them you’d need your rest, but no one could resist meeting these two.”

Rhaenyra walked over, carefully bringing your son closer to you. “You’ve given us two miracles,” she said softly, her voice brimming with pride. “They’re perfect.”

Aegon sat beside you, gently handing your daughter into your arms. As you held her close, you felt a surge of love so strong it brought tears to your eyes. “They’re everything,” you whispered, glancing between your children and your husband.

Aegon leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And you’re everything to us,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

For a moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the four of you in your own little world. It was a moment you knew you’d cherish forever—a moment that marked the beginning of your life as a family.

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