#high end drapery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daceydeath · 8 months ago

Text

Her Knight

Pairing: Knight San x Princess Reader Word Count: 6.3k Genre: Fantasy AU, Romance, Smut Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol, Explicit Activities

Another ball to attend another prince to meet but your Knight in shining armor is always there to save you.

Another god forsaken ball, with more god forsaken suitors that were either inbred or as exciting as drapery but your father insisted that you find a suitable match before your next name day celebration so that you would have time to plan an appropriate wedding for that of a future queen. Your only semblance of comfort was that this would be the last ball of the season and if no match was found you would be free for at least the winter months before the next ball season began so that you could spend another season mustering the courage to tell your father that you didn't want to marry a prince your heart belonged to someone else. Marriage to a man you barely knew was the last thing you wanted you had barely even seen your twentieth winter and you still had so much you wanted to do before your freedom was taken from you by an man, who would most likely spend his time demanding you remain demure and dull so that he could live out his fantasy of being a king to a mighty kingdom, regardless of the fact it would be your queendom not his. So you once again were being strapped into a corset so tight you would only be able to drink and not eat and a gown so heavy it would surely leave bruises on your hips from the weight.

Standing before the ornate mirror in your chambers your ladies in waiting scampered around collecting under skirts, ribbons, jewels and shoes to make the dressing process easier for you but all it ended up doing was giving you a headache as they argued whether the diamonds, pearls, gold looked better with your attire. As the princess royal you were expected to be dressed to a level of opulence that few could match dresses of the finest silks and velvets, covered in jewels and gold threads were common place for you and so the aristocrats and minor royals followed your lead having clothes tailored in whatever shades you wore. Normally you stuck to a pastel gowns that were covered in lightweight sheer layers that, while looking beautiful, allowed you to move a little more freely, tonight you had picked a black gown that was heavily embellished with gold, your corset whilst covered in not just gold but also pearls and small semi precious stones. It was excessive in every way and that was exactly what you wanted, two younger sons of the neighboring kingdom were set to be in attendance and you wanted very much to drive them away with your wasteful appearance so they would see being matched to you more of a burden than an asset.

"your highness?" Your handmaid interrupted your daydreaming to help you begin dressing "If you would be so kind as to hold the bed frame we can begin your lacings" she smiled meekly, being careful to speak respectfully.

"Of course Bessy" you smiled not caring if your ladies in waiting were listening, your handmaids were your friends and you wouldn't treat them poorly just because of their station in life. Moving to grasp the wood tightly Bessy and her assistance Clara pulled each lace viciously, knocking the air from your lungs each time until finally Bessy placed her knee against your back for one last tug to ensure you were properly cinched in, leaving you breathing as heavily as you could.

Your ladies in waiting sat you down to begin fussing with your hair and makeup, you could always style yourself but you found it easier to just sit and be preened within an inch of your life.

"Princess, I must tell you what I heard about Prince Heeseung!" Lady Lisbeth whispered excitedly pinning your hair up into an elegant updo "I heard he has rejected three other kingdoms invites to meet you tonight and that he has high hopes of securing your hand over his brother".

"I heard that his brother Prince Sunghoon has already found a paramour but is keeping her hidden so he is only playing the part of the competitive brother" Lady Hari interjected quickly before lowering her voice so that only you could hear her as she powdered your skin "But that would give you freedom if you allowed him to bring her with him".

"I wouldn't count on a match being made tonight though" Lady Sana smiled at you in the mirror giving you a sly wink "The knights of the realm have returned from your fathers conquest today so tonight will probably turn rowdy quite quickly with war stories and drunken antics".

"Anything to get me a few more months you couldn't help but mumble as Lady Sana moved to latch the Queen's Jewel around your throat, a large oval solitaire diamond that showed your rank and lineage, it hung heavily just below you collarbones shining brilliantly in the flickering light.

"Did they all return?" you asked almost indifferently hoping to look more concerned with their wellbeing for the kingdom's sake and not your own.

"Not all returned princess, but most have arrived back safely and triumphantly" Lady Hari answered, looking at you pleased with your appearance.

"Father must be very pleased then, I will make sure to congratulate both father and his loyal knights during the festivities then" you smiled with faux enthusiasm knowing that at least while congratulating the returned knights you would be free from your suitors advances, provided they were interested.

You bid you ladies farewell for the time being and waited until it was just you and your maids remaining within hearing range making sure your quarters were completely empty.

"Bessy how many did we lose?" you inquired trying to keep your voice even despite how nervous you were "and do you know who made it back safely?".

"Only two fell and five more were injured but made it back" Bessy smiled leaning in closer to you just to be safe from any prying ears "your favorite knights are all well though Ser San is expected to be rewarded for his bravery in rescuing Ser Yunho and Ser Mingi from enemy forces".

"Excellent, that's excellent" you breathed a sigh of relief "I have not got many friends Bessy, just you and the few maids that are purely my own and the knights who have to guard me. I don't want to lose any of you".

"You won't lose us your highness we will be with you until you decide otherwise" Bessy grinned, her and Clara, preparing your gown to finally be placed over all of your underskirts to complete your outfit and prepare you to go to the ballroom to greet your fathers guests.

Taking a final sip of wine you brushed the velvet of your skirt down one last time before opening the door to your quarters to find the guard who would take you to the ballroom. You prepared yourself for another night of dodging advances and hopefully leaving bad impressions on men who would marry you for a power play. Sansa and Hari stood at the top of the grand staircase waiting for you to make your entry. The minstrels were quietened and the beginning of your title announced before you stepped into view of the crowd of onlooking guests.

"May we present the Princess Royal, First of her Family and Heir to the Crown of Eastwood" he called loudly into the cavernous room as you felt all eyes fall on you and your attire. When you made the first landing the minstrels began to play and the buzz of the guests continuing their conversations filled the room once more leaving you free to make your way to your father and hopefully to begin the round of slow congratulations of his returned knights, who all looked resplendently dashing in their black and red military uniforms.

"My sweetest daughter" your father called to you clapping his hands loudly as you made your way through the crowd.

"Your only daughter father" you teased back grinning as he stretched his arms out to take your hands.

"You look particularly beautiful tonight my child" he smiled toothily before pulling you gently towards him to kiss your cheek.

"I heard your brave knights have returned, father and triumphantly at that" you beamed "you must be so pleased with their success I must congratulate them for honoring you".

"They did, and you should, they will be your knights one day and you should treat them with the respect their loyalty deserves." he nodded seriously as you tried your hardest to appear that you were focusing on his words with absolute concentration "You will make a fine ruler one day child, but first you must meet the Princes from Northwilds they have traveled far to attend this evening". You dutifully smiled and nodded letting your father escort you towards a group of men in deep blue and gold ensembles which you assumed to be military style uniforms from the Nothwilds kingdom. All ten of them bowed deeply when they noticed your father's and your presence.

"King Arin, we thank you for this generous invitation Eastwood is a most beautiful kingdom" A tall rather handsome man stepped forward taking your father's hand and bowing again to place his forehead against your father's ring which contained the royal seal.

"Prince Heeseung, I am most delighted you could make the trip, I realize that Northwilds is quite a journey from us. This is my daughter the Princess Royal" he introduced you, letting you curtsy despite you being of higher rank than either of the princes.

"We are most blessed to make your acquaintance" Prince Heeseung bowed, stretching out his hand to take yours and kiss the back of it softly. "This is my brother Prince Sunghoon" he gestured behind himself for his brother to step forward and greet your father and then yourself, also pressing a kiss to the back of your hand although so featherlight you almost didn't feel it.

"The pleasure is mine Prince Heeseung, Prince Sunghoon" you smiled demurely trying to remain as neutral as possible so you didn't garner too much interest from them.

"I will leave you to mingle, child, but you should remember to thank the knights before the evening is over" your father winked no doubt, noticing your not particularly keen interaction with the brothers.

"Of course father, I won't neglect my duties to the kingdom" you bowed your head as he stepped away no doubt looking for a drink. Sana made her way to your side instantly replacing your fathers place at your side, taking your hand she squeezed it once to let you know it was he as you continued to smile at the princes.

"Princess, you look exquisite tonight" Heeseung complimented softly as his brother stepped back to engage back into the conversation he was having with his entourage.

"You look quite dashing yourself Prince Heeseung" you smiled tightly not enjoying the awkwardness of first meetings "Tell me what is the Northwilds like? I have yet to travel that far yet, father doesn't let me travel too far from the kingdom" you explained hoping that he would bring up anything about his kingdom that you could find interesting and prompt some sort of discourse.

"I have heard it can snow there for months at a time, is that true?" Sana asked, hoping to help further the conversation.

"Please call me Heeseung, I am of lesser rank than you Princess" he smiled hopefully at you "Northwilds can be bitterly cold in winter. It is true it snows nearly all of winter but it is quite pleasant in the summer and early autumn. We have quite a few lakes and forests which makes for pleasant day trips" he continued.

"Oh I do like spending time near the water" Sana gushed beaming at him "Don't you your Highness?".

"Yes I do enjoy picnics by the waterfront and also horseback riding. Do you have good horses in Northwilds? I imagine they would be hardy creatures" you answered politely, noticing that Heeseung's eyes were firmly locked on Sana as she batted her eyelashes and giggled softly.

"Our horses are the most sturdy of all the kingdoms" Heeseung nodded, obviously enjoying the attention Sana was giving him.

"I should attend the greeting of our returned knights, Lady Sana, would you keep Prince Heeseung entertained until I return? and ensure both he and his brother are comfortable" you touched her shoulder gently in a gesture of thanks.

"Of course Princess, it would be my greatest honor" she gushed enthusiastically letting you make your exit without any protest from either of the princes.

Wandering towards the outer edge of the room you were sure you would find at least one knight trying to avoid an over eager dowager who wanted to thank him more than was warranted or wanted. Sure enough you found Ser Seonghwa desperately looking for a pillar to hide behind as an aristocrat made her way across the crowd towards him.

"Ser Seonghwa" You called, stepping into his line of vision and watching him visibly relax knowing you would give him an excuse to not speak to the older woman, who now looked quite put out that you had stolen the object of her desire.

"Princess Royal" he greeted bowing deeply to you.

"I had heard you had returned today and victorious" you grinned "I was hoping I could thank you all for honoring my father so valiantly".

"It is our honor honestly Princess" he smiled again, his handsome face lighting up "May I escort you to some of the other knights, your highness?"

"Yes please Ser Seonghwa, I would love to thank you all personally for your efforts" you continued taking his arm and allowing him to guide you towards the back of the ballroom where the large windows and open gilt doors spilt light out into the gardens. "I also thought I might be able to save you for a little while, Seonghwa" you whispered once you got closer to your destination.

"I cannot thank you enough," Seonghwa grinned. "It will help boost the others that you would wish to spend some time with us lowly knights rather than the Princes from Northwilds".

"Believe me you lot are much preferred company" you smirked as he led you onto the lit terrace, large glass containers filled with candles surrounding the entire area to keep it as well lit as possible despite it not being twilight yet.

"Look who I found in my travels" Seonghwa called to a cluster of men dressed in identical uniforms, they didn't even need to turn around for you to know exactly who each of them was having spent enough time milling around the training grounds in hoping one of them would take pity on you and give you some sword fighting lessons or teach you archery, which they eventually did. You had become friends over those years and you began to treat each other as equals rather than what your ranks demanded, even if it had to occur mainly in secret.

"If it's another kitchen girl I would say don't bother, you always strike out with the kitchen staff" Ser Hongjoong yelled cheekily before his eyes landed on you walking at Seonghwa's side. "Princess Royal, what are you doing out here?" they all instantly stood at attention facing you.

"At ease I'm alone" you laughed watching them all relax again "I wanted to see how you were I didn't know you were back until a few hours ago".

"We're mostly intact" Hongjoong admitted softly as you let go of your hold on Seonghwa's arm to touch Hongjoong's shoulder affectionately.

"What does mostly intact mean? I wanted you to come back whole" you pouted taking in each of their appearances "Yunho, Mingi you're hurt" you couldn’t help the way your voice raised an octave as you moved to look at them closer your large black gown swishing against all of their legs as you passed them. Your hands fluttering uselessly over Yunho's bandaged hand and arm which bulged under his dress coat and Mingi with obvious bruising to his face.

"War doesn't leave you intact Princess" Jongho sighed, his eyes meeting yours sadly.

"Sana told me that some of you fell. Who? Who did we lose?" you asked carefully knowing that such a tight knit group would be sensitive to the loss of a friend and comrade.

"Changbin and Seungmin are gone, Felix and Minho are pretty badly injured. Chan and a few of the others are staying with them around the clock in case the worse happens they can send for help faster" Wooyoung grimaced.

"Fuck" you breathed shakily lamenting the loss of good men “I’m so sorry”.

"Did you just say fuck?" Seonghwa blinked, unsure if he had heard you correctly.

"Yes? I swear all the time when you teach me how to fight, have you only just noticed?" you enquired confused.

"You say crap, quim womble and bollocks, once I heard you say shit but never fuck" Hongjoong roared laughing while Yeosang, San and Mingi all smirked.

"Well now you have heard me say fuck congratulations" you rolled your eyes quickly looking around San's broad shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear your profanity.

"It's just soldiers out here Princess" San smiled warmly looking down at you, you almost lost yourself in them but remembered yourself and decided to look at his dimple instead.

"Can't be too careful, I saved Seonghwa from a dowager but right now you are saving me from Prince Heeseung" you joked, nudging his chest with your shoulder.

“There is no way we can hide you though not in that dress at least" Mingi teased looking you up and down exaggeratedly.

"It is true you outshine every other woman here" Jongho whistled "must be looking to impress a prince tonight".

"More like hoping to horrify one" you smirked, poking your tongue out at him "I hope they will see me as frivolous and vapid so they don't want to stay". You were happy to admit your plan to them you knew they would never tell a soul.

“Why don’t you just tell your father you don’t want to marry?” Yunho shook his head clearly amused with your plan.

“Because unlike you Yunho I don’t get a lot of say in when I get married, father has decided it will be in the summer so I have that long to convince him to let me marry someone I actually like or he will pick for me”. You sighed trying to keep the sadness off of your face “I don’t really want to get stuck with some horrible man who just wants my throne”.

“Why haven’t you picked any of the others who have come then? Some of them were really quite nice or were they just not quite like the tales of knights who slay dragons from your silly books?” Wooyoung pressed as your cheeks began to flush pink at the implication of his question.

“You are never going to understand Wooyoung” you rolled your eyes before quickly putting more space between yourself and them as the sounds of Sana’s voice floated across the terrace. “Again brave knights I cannot express my gratitude for honoring my father” you smiled politely with your best formal voice back in place as they all tried not to snicker at your obvious change in demeanor.

“Princess Royal” Heeseung’s voice rang out loudly “I did wonder where you had gotten to, were you stolen away by these brutes?” he raised his eyebrow challengingly towards your friends and saviors.

“Of course not Prince Heeseung, these knights are my father’s best. They have just returned from their campaign. It is part of my duties to congratulate the brave men who honor my kingdom” your replied almost coldly, your eyes narrowing slightly at him.

“Still it is not proper that you be alone with men so far below your station” he continued, not really bothering to listen to your words making you frown.

“Your Highness, the prince may have had a little too much of your father’s favorite vintage” Sana stressed quickly, making you step back a fraction more from him “I thought some fresh air might help with that”.

“Perhaps it would” you smiled tightly, watching Sana carefully in case she needed help ridding herself from him “Where is prince Sunghoon?”.

“He has retired for the night, your Highness” Sana answered quickly, her voice quivering slightly.

“I see, I will accompany you then” you announced, making Prince Heesung grin at his perceived victory. “Ser San, Ser Jongho, would you join us please? There may be all sorts of wild beasts in the gardens at this time of night” you looked at them pleadingly.

“Of course your Royal Highness” San answered smoothly, bowing deeply as Jongho copied his actions, nodding.

“Thank you Sers I will feel much safer with you with us” you beamed noticing the twinkle of mischief in Jongho’s eyes and the laugh San was trying to hold in.

“I would be with you Princess Royal, you would need no further protection than that” Prince Heeseung started to protest, looking dissatisfied with your choice.

“I know Prince Heeseung but who would protect Lady Sana in the event of an attack surely you would be protecting me in that circumstance and Lady Sana is my closest confidant I would want her to be safe so why not bring a few more swords along” you explained flashing your best doe eyes at him.

“Of course you have thought this through far better than I have” he bowed in apology before San offered you his arm and Jongho took a torch from one of the wall sconces beside the very edge of he terrace to lead the way.

“Thank you Ser San” you graciously accepted, allowing him to lead you towards the cobblestone pathway that lay on the edge of the hedge maze. Prince Heeseung glowered as San but said nothing further as he fell into step behind you but you couldn’t help the silent giggle that passed your lips imagining him glaring at the wide expanse of San’s back as you walked. In the dimness that surrounded you now that dusk had properly fallen and the sun had long dropped behind the horizon you felt San’s fingers stroke small patterns into the back of your hand making butterflies dance in your belly. Prince Heeseung was muttering something to Sana that you couldn’t make out but when you turned your head to attempt to hear them better San squeezed your hand and met your eyes his endlessly deep brown eyes gesturing to Jongho in front of you before returning to your face as though he was studying you.

“Princess Royal” Jongho’s voice called back to you “Do you wish us to play another round of first to the middle? I know that it is one of your ladies in waiting’s favorite games to play when you have the time and it would be a good way to show Prince Heeseung the hedge maze” he asked in faux innocence making Sana agree enthusiastically and you nod.

“Oh yes please Ser Jongho, Sana and I both adore that game. Would you like to play Prince Heeseung? It is a very simple game but such fun” you turned to look at him excitedly “We all take turns entering the maze and the one that reaches the middle first wins a prize of their choosing”.

“Any prize they choose?” Heeseung asked with a sly smile on his face.

“Well obviously not anything I wouldn’t give you the kingdom or anything silly like that it is usually a token for example a piece of jewelry, a favor from me, a special dessert from the kitchens that sort of thing” you rationalized hoping that he would agree to play so that you could help Sana escape him for a little while.

“I would enjoy that,” he answered simply, looking between Sana and you.

“The Princess Royal shall go first, then it will be your turn and then mine” Sana volunteered, hoping that as long as she took a different start path to him it would be fine.

“Shall we start? Ser San, would you stay here and guard the entrance while we play?” you enquired watching San nod in silent agreement before you picked up your skirts slightly so they didn’t catch on the branches and made your way into the maze, you took the first right then second left which you knew led to a dead end then you waited quietly it didn’t take long before your heard heavy footsteps that passed by on the other side of the thick green wall that led deeper into the maze. You waited for a few moments prepared to count to twenty before you attempted to make your way back to the entrance hoping that San would be waiting for you when you heard more footsteps.

“Princess?” San whispered quietly rounding the corner to the deadend that you were waiting in “He’s long gone shall we head back?” his breathtaking smile lighting up his whole face.

“Yes,why not?” you stepped towards him “I’m so glad you came home San” you admitted taking his hand in yours “I would have been devastated if you had been lost”.

“It would take more than one campaign to stop me coming home to you Princess” you flushed quickly back tracking his words “I mean to your kingdom Princess, there is no other kingdom I would rather serve”. He met your eyes shyly.

“San…” you breathed, noticing the pretty color that now dusted his cheekbones. You were almost standing so close to him that if someone was to come across you it would have surely looked improper but you didnt care you were far too lost in the depths of his eyes that swam with such emotion that you could not bring yourself to look away.

“Princess, I…” San stumbled his words as he unconsciously pulled you slightly closer to him, your chest almost pressed against his and his hand still grasping yours firmly in the few moments of silence that followed. “Why haven’t you agreed to any of the suitors your father has invited to the kingdom?”.

“I already have someone I wish to be with, but he doesn’t know” you confessed without a shred of fear as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards “He’s someone my father trusts very much and once this ball season has ended I wanted to talk to him about it”. San’s other hand moved to grip your waist making your eyes widen slightly.

“Would the King allow you to be with this man?” he asked quietly, his voice deeper than it had been before making you feel a little light headed.

“I desperately hope so” you swallowed hard his hand letting go of yours leaving it to feel cool without the warmth of his palm enveloping yours, very slowly he moved so that it was now creeping up your arm leaving goosebumps wherever his calloused fingers brushed against you.

“May I?” he murmured his face close enough to yours that you could feel his breath fanning across your face, his hand finally stopping to cup your cheek.

“Please San” you mumbled closing your eyes the moment his lips brushed against yours tentatively pausing to allow you to stop him going further which gave you the opportunity to place your hand against his chest to feel his heart beating rapidly within his ribcage. You leaned in a little more, pressing your lips against his fully, finally feeling the warmth of his plush lips against yours, smiling against you he pulled you against his chest slowly sliding his lips against yours until you felt dizzy.

“I need to get you back to the castle my Princess” he breathed against you lips pecking them once more before stepping back from you the smirk on his face showing how pleased he was with your reciprocation of his actions.

“Yes, you should escort me back to my quarters” you agreed blinking a few times to shake the feeling that was lingering in your belly from his use of my princess. “I don’t want to return to the ballroom”.

“Your wish is my command” he teased taking your hand in his and leading you back out of the maze instead of returning the way you came San led you through the darker side of the gardens towards the entrance that the knights often used when they came and went from the castle leading your through empty passageways and hallways until you reached the wing your quarters were in, you entered letting San stop at your door to let the guard know he would be taking over and to go get some rest before he would be following you inside.

You sat at your vanity waiting, removing your jewelry and hair pins before wiping the makeup from your face. You had already slipped off your underskirts which made your dress considerably less dramatic but there was no way you would be able to get out of your corset without your maids help so you just watched your reflection until you heard your door close and the lock click shut.

“San?” you called watching his shadow appear in the room.

“I’m here my Princess” he smiled warmly.

“I…I…I don’t know where to start” you chewed on your lip softly, the trepidation you felt was obvious.

“Is the man you want me Princess?” he asked tenderly his voice sweet like honey making you feel warm as it surrounded you making you nod silently.

“I love you San, I always have” you admitted shyly, your face burning with blush.

“God’s I’ve dreamed you would say that to me one day” he groaned striding to you and pulling you into his arms his lips pressing against yours once more this time not hiding the emotions he felt for you, his tongue traced the seam of your lips encouraging you to let him deepen the kiss which your did his tongue slipping past your lips to slid against your own in a slow sensual dance. You couldn’t help the faint moan that escaped your throat as his hands moved to hold you as close to him as he could. When he finally broke away from you he pressed his forehead against yours as you panted for breath.

“I loved you from the first moment I came to this kingdom and I will love you until my last breath” he declared to you sincerely “If your father allows this I will worship you from this day forth if you let me”. You nodded as tears came to your eyes, you had never imagined that San would ever return your feeling he was a far more worldly man and could have any woman in the kingdom yet he had wanted to be yours just as desperately as you had wanted him. Your lips crashed back into him too lost in the joy of his love to think about anything else, hands buried in his hair to hold him close to you as his arms encircled you, picking you up and pressing you against the wall beside the vanity. Pressing himself fully against you.

You let your hands fall to his shoulders to hold him as he began kissing his way down your neck towards your chest, your corset giving him enough space to get well below your collarbone before finding your lips again his hands had bunched your skirt up around your hips allowing him to press against your core more easily making you wiggle against him and cause him to let a deep groan escape his throat.

“Easy Princess, I might not be able to stop if we go too far” San panted against your neck, mouthing at the junction of your shoulder as you shivered in his arms.

“I want to, please I think I’m on fire” you whined wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

“Shit, my love, if I deflower you the king will kill me” he ground out between his clenched teeth as you rolled your hips experimentally against him.

“He would never harm the father of my child” you whimpered the feeling of his hardness grinding against your cotton covered core giving you the friction you desperately needed.

“Fuck don’t say things like that” growled his hands sliding between you and the wall to tug at your laces while he kissed you again making your need for him grow with each muffled sound that passed between your mouths. He flung the black top of your corsent to the side your under corset undone enough for him to get access to your breasts making you cry out as he took one of your hardened nipples between his kiss swollen lips teasing it and suckling at it until your head tipped back against the wall. Carefully lowering you to the fur rug on the floor he roughly tugged your undergarments away allowing you time to wiggle your corset off without undoing it completely leaving you bare to him.

“So beautiful” he whispered reverently his hand cupping your cheek again before slowly dragging it down your body making your skin erupt in a feeling of fire licking at your skin, he undid his uniform throwing the jacket and undershirt behind him before working on the laces of his pants allowing you to see him in all his glory, you couldn't help your fingers from reaching out and tracing the old scars that crossed his chest the silver skin standing out in the glow of the room his eyes boring into you watching your every expression as you took your time touching him before he slid his fingers from your hip to your center achingly slowly slipping them between your folds making your mouth fall open in surprise.

“San” you gasped, unsure of what he was doing.

“Let me pleasure you my love” he smiled reassuringly, moving to kiss you once more as one of his fingers began circling your bud causing you to begin mewling into his mouth “That’s it my love let me show you how much I love you”.

Subconsciously you spread your thighs apart wider to allow him to touch you more, another of his long fingers pressing against your entrance slightly before entering you, he sunk his digit deeper and deeper making your eyes roll back as you began to rock against his hand. Another finger began stretching your velvet walls, the feeling sending surges of pleasure through you as they massaged your walls.

“Saaan” you moaned the feeling building and building deep inside you like a coil waiting to snap.

“When it feels too good and you cannot hold it in, let go my love” he cooed, kissing your neck as he continued to pump his fingers inside of you.

“Oh San…agh..ngh” you cried out feeling the coil explode and white hot pleasure flood your veins.

“Good girl” San mumbled moving to slot himself between your thighs. “Tell me if this hurts you and I will stop”.

You nodded dazed from the floaty feeling that still filled your brain, only clearing when you felt a much larger stretch beginning as San cautiously entered you inch by inch until you were fully impaled on his cock the feeling almost painful as he stilled to let you adjust to the sensation of being completely full. Kissing you deeply he slowly dragged his cock almost completely out of you before thrusting back in his gentle pace to help you not feel anything but pain.

“Does it hurt my love?” he gasped against your lips, continuing to languidly move his hips.

“No feels good” you moaned quietly, no longer feeling unsure of the feeling of him moving inside you. He hissed in pleasure speeding up the rocking of his hips helping you to wrap one leg around him, each snap of his hips making the coil tighten again making you roll your hips to meet his thrust making him moan loudly and your walls flutter.

“Fuck just like that my love you feel like heaven” he grunted watching your face as your mouth dropped open again and your moans got louder “Good girl, let go when you want to alright, I want to feel you on my cock” he babbled making you start to see white again as fire spread through your veins again and you couldn’t he but scream as your second high hit you.

“San, San, San” you chanted before he rapidly pulled away from you his cock in his hand as he covered your tummy and breasts in thick white ropes of his release.

“Sorry My love let me clean you up" he panted, grabbing his undershirt from the floor and wiping you clean before collapsing beside you “Couldn’t risk letting go inside you at least not until your father lets me marry you”. You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at the idea of him still needing to keep you safe even whilst deflowering you.

"Let me get you into bed so that you don’t catch a cold from being on the stone floor” he smiled bashfully, helping you to get into your bed still nude but at least warmer as he cleaned up the clothes that we strewn around the room and partially dressed himself.

“Are you leaving?” you whimpered panic rising in your throat.

“I will never leave you but I cannot stay here all night, your maids will find me” he smiled climbing onto the bed beside you we can’t have a scandal in the castle.

“Come with me tomorrow when I talk to my father?” you implored cuddling into his side, his fingers softly combing through your hair.

“Of course my love” He whispered kissing your head as your eyes fell closed

A/N: Thank you again for reading my darlings xx

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yoonia · 6 months ago

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the bedroom hymns ● chapter xxi

⟶ Chapter summary | Mysteries continue to unfold as you carry on with your solo adventures, not realising that every piece of the past that you have uncovered in your journeys traces back in time, aligning themselves with what has been written for you by the will of fate.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy!AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 11,872 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include magic terms, classism, depiction of fantasy ritual act, mention of fantasy religion/beliefs, mention of war, violence, weapons, sword fighting, blood, injuries. ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

⟶ Author’s note | After a long wait, we finally have a new chapter out. I’m sorry for keeping you from this update for so long. It was a hard journey to get this one done, since some personal stuff kept getting in the way. The chapter ‘ Serendipity’ has grown significantly during the writing process, so I had to split the chapter into three separate parts, and then even smaller parts on Wattpad for better reading experience. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter!

chapter xxi. serendipity-1

A temple.

The relief you felt for not finding yourself plunging into the rough sea or crashing down onto the sharp rocks on the shoreline was quickly replaced by bafflement when you saw where you had ended up in instead.

Once your shock subsides, unease settles in. You aren’t quite sure why. This place doesn’t even look like the disintegrating temple you saw in your dream the previous night.

This place reminds you more of E’l Alora; the mountains where giant dragons were flying around the human town built against the cliff’s wall, with its massive ravine and the castle on the rocks.

Realisation dawns on you once you get to look at the little details of the temple a bit closer. Not a grand structure standing atop a hill, but a structure built within a mountain. As if a part of a mountain or a hill had sunken into the earth, forming a cave hidden within, surrounded by what was left of the mountain, and the temple was carved out of the rocky materials that had once been the core of the alp.

Looking up, your eyes are met with the streaks of sunlight penetrating through the opening above your head. The sunlight here is quite murky—dull and grey as if the sun is hiding somewhere else instead of hanging up high in the sky, causing the colours around you to seem muted and washed out—yet it is still enough to illuminate the dark temple, giving you a clear sight of everything that is present right before your eyes.

The door that you had just emerged from lies at the back of the room, facing directly towards the temple’s center where you can have a clear view of the dais spread along the length of the temple walls. A platform at the center rises slightly higher, made up of dark grey stone slabs that seem to have emerged from the ground rather than been carved by human hands.

Meanwhile, a part of the ground at the center of the temple sinks deeper, creating a small crater in the middle of the main praying hall which is now filled with water. The nave area for the worshippers, filled with rows of benches made out of stone, was built around the pond instead of going around the dais, making it seem like the pool itself is the main focus point of the temple.

The humming magic coming out of the portal feels like cold breeze brushing against your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see a line of small alcoves covered in draperies in place of doors—banners filled with symbols of a chalice and crescent moon drawn on dark blue backgrounds, with two arches of ivy drawn on the top and bottom as frames. One of the draperies is flicking gently behind you as if a breeze is flowing from within, only that magic hums from it and sparks light up as it brushes against your skin.

The door. This will be my exit.

Suppressing a shiver running down your spine, you turn away from it and carefully walk across the vacant temple, following the ray of lights from above to find your exit while taking everything in.

Standing right at the heart of the main hall, the old, seemingly abandoned temple feels grand and noble at the same time, yet solemn in its stillness. The way the temple itself seems to have been crafted by nature makes it even more otherworldly.

It makes you feel small. Insignificant among the nature that has formed this place a long time ago.

The rocky walls around you stand three stories high, each level marked by small open corridors framed with stone bannisters. Rows and rows of small alcoves were carved into the rocky surface the same way the doors behind you are made, only without any banners hanging as covers. The sight reminds you of the hundreds of doors lining up the floors of Stargrave Castle, and also of E’l Alora—how its human town was built against the rocky walls of the ravine. Only that these alcoves appear dark and lifeless, housing nothing more but shadows.

You wonder if these alcoves had once served significant purposes for the ceremonies that were held in this place.

If only you had a way to get higher, would you be able to see marks of chairs between the alcoves for the royals who came to join or witness the rites? Perhaps there would be small altars up there where they put the statues of the Ancients that they were praying to in this place and they were set up as private praying chambers instead?

Turning away from the walls, you look up to the dais on the ground floor and make your way towards it. Eyes on the platform standing at the center, you try to imagine this place coming alive with a rite—you picture the leaders of ceremonies taking their places atop the platform, the nave filling up with their devotees and disciples.

If only you know the significance of the pool of water that is glimmering under the dim sunlight in front of you. From up close, you notice that the pool is glowing in the shade of jade—as if jade stones were laid at the bottom of the pond—but the surface of the water is clear like crystals, and you can see your face reflected perfectly on it when you look down.

Curious, wondering if you can find any clue, you take a closer look at the raised dais.

There is no such altar just like what you’ve seen at the temples you visited back in Smotia, nor there are seats or couches like what you had seen in the royal churches. But mantles are built against the walls, lined up with burnt candles. You can also see those candles lined up perfectly on the low platform in front of the dais. Some of them are burnt halfway, others are burnt completely to the bottom. You reach out, waving your palm above the burnt wicks and are caught by surprise when you still feel some warmth there. Showing you that at least a couple of them were recently burned.

So not completely abandoned, then.

You pull your hand away with a flinch once you look a bit closer, seeing a couple of silver goblets which have been placed between the burnt candles. At one glance, they seem to be empty. Yet as you bend down over the one closest to you, you can see a drop of liquid pooling at the bottom.

Wine. Still partially wet, as if it had just only been used recently.

So this place is still used. But where are the people now?

You strain your ears, eyes, and your other senses, trying to feel out any presence of a person, any figure that might be lurking in the dark temple, and feel nothing. Turning away from the abandoned offerings and burnt candles, you look past the pool of water, across the main hall, to see another source of light. An open stone archway stands at the other side of the hall, where lights are filtering through into the main hall.

The main entrance door.

From this distance, you cannot see too clearly what is waiting on the other side of the opening. But then a draft comes flowing through the temple, followed by a low, resonant whistling noise that almost sounds like a soft howl of an animal echoing through the open archway. At the same time, the light that you see coming from the opening begins to flicker, shifting between the dim golden light of burning torches or candles and the grey of sunlight that appears far duller than the sky above.

A tunnel, you realise with a grim smile. There is a tunnel beyond the archway leading you towards the exit, and you can only hope that no other surprises are waiting there.

Slowly, you make your way across the dark temple. You try to be careful with your steps, doing your best to keep away from the slippery part of the stone floor around the pool. And yet your soft footsteps cannot stop the sound of your boots from echoing through the temple. The sound keeps bouncing against the walls as you walk on, sounding far too loud against the silence, making you feel even more hyperaware of your surroundings.

Wrapping your palm around the hilt of your short sword, you walk through the stone archway, finding yourself in a short span of a tunnel. The stream of sunlight coming through the tunnel keeps the darkness at bay, in addition to the flickering torches that are hung along the length of the cavern, causing shadows to dance around you on the cold stone walls.

You continue walking, your grip remaining firm on the hilt of your sheathed sword and your eyes ready, and then you carefully step into the light—or, in this case, lack thereof.

Out here, beyond the grim darkness of the temple, the world is looking just as ghastly. From the threshold of the temple lies a spread of grove half the size of the temple’s main hall. Filled with thin trees, the grove expands toward the descending plain and ends at what seems to be the edge of a city.

Carrying the same caution, you tread through the grove, still with your hand ready on the hilt of your sword. Walking under the sparse line of trees in the grove doesn’t leave you feeling much of being under their protection.

The trees here remind you an awful lot of the trees you saw in E’l Alora. With barks and branches that glimmer in similar shades of pale and rotten grey yet darker to almost black at the bottom half to the roots below, only thinner and longer, twisted in odd angles as if they were frozen in the middle of dancing with the cold wind or in their fight to avoid whatever terror came into this land. The leaves are also painted in similar shades of teal and dark grey, only that they appear sharper and thinner, so much so that they look like needles pointing up to the sky and do nothing to shield you from the sky.

The ground beneath the grove appears dark, as if covered in a thick layer of soot with not a sight of grass or undergrowth. As if the earth itself has been drained dry by the withering trees. In some parts, the dark soot is blanketed by a thin layer of dust and ash, as if the grove had once caught on fire leaving trails of its destruction undisturbed even as the trees began growing once more.

You walk a bit deeper into the grove, taking a few steps further until you reach the part where the ground begins to descend. Until you can have a better glimpse of what lies on the other side of these trees, and you finally come to a halt.

Because what you see on the other side only puts cold shivers down your spine.

Beyond the last line of trees, there is nothing but the ruins of an old city.

Crumbling structures stand before you, remnants of forgotten temples and a ghost of a majestic city that had once been vibrant and full of life. A grand skeleton of stone structures stands at the far end of the city, nearly floating above the river that seems darker than the jade-coloured pool you saw in the temple. The broken-down gates spreading around it become the only indication that you are looking at what used to be a palace—one that had once stood strong above the city, overlooking the land, the forest, and the mountain behind you. Beyond the remains of the fallen palace lies a vast terrain of rocky peaks, rising high like towers made of nature.

The vast plain of the city and the fractured roads have been overgrown with weeds, their insidious tendrils creeping over the withering foundations of the city to grasp whatever life remains. Tendrils of ivy and layers of moss cover most of the structures that are left standing, coating all the pale and bright-coloured stones with various shades of green. Any visible part of the ground not covered by weeds and broken stones has mostly formed into puddles of muddy water, leaving you to wonder if this place has truly been deserted, left behind and abandoned in its demise.

What happened here?

What happened to the people?

And what about the temple, the traces left behind to show that life still exists here?

Under the dim grey sunlight, the fallen city before you seems as if engulfed in a permanent shadow, leaving all the tone of colours to appear washed out—just as lifeless as the city itself.

You are suddenly reminded of your dream. The eerie sight of a kingdom dissolving into ruins that has been haunting your nights seems to have been manifested right before your eyes. Had it been a sign, a premonition of a once-existing place that you needed to find?

Captivated and enthralled by the sight of the fallen city before you, you lose focus on your own safety, on the ground you are standing on. And the next step you take ends with a misstep. Sending you straight into a puddle.

“Oh, fates,” you murmur to yourself as you lift your soaked boots out of the puddle of muddy water.

You whisper another curse under your breath as you shake off the mud from your booths, but having your attention drawn away from the daunting sight only draws your focus back to the dark grove around you.

It brings back your sense of awareness, enough to help you notice that the air around you has shifted. You are no longer alone.

A rustling sound reaches you from somewhere between the eerie-looking trees. A movement that is felt but left unseen. Spine stiffens, your hand returns to the hilt of your sword, and with a soft, indiscernible exhale of breath, you let silence fall so you can have a better listen to any changes happening all around you.

You briefly close your eyes, just in time for the noise to return. It is subtle, but you can sense the sound coming from your right. Yet when you rise and turn towards it, a loud shrill of a hawk echoes through the trees on your left. A flurry of movement catches your eyes when you swiftly turn towards the other side, before a shiny sword glares at you as it swings down towards you in a sudden attack.

“Fates,” you curse out as you pull out your sword to protect yourself, swiping it upwards to fend off the attack.

The force of the swords clashing on each other takes away the breath that you barely managed to take. You can feel your arms trembling as you take the brunt of the attack, but you keep your grip firm, steadying your weapon while you regain enough strength to return the blow. Your sword clinks against the unidentified assailant’s sword as you push him back, throwing him off of you before you step away.

With a swift, yet slightly clumsy motion—your boots nearly slipping, again, on the muddy ground—and your grip tightening on your sword, you adjust your stance to face your assailant.

The shrill of the hawk echoes through the air once again. This time, the animal appears at the corner of your eyes instead of hiding away, diving from the sky at a rapid speed to strike the face of a second assailant that you failed to notice and was just about to land a surprise strike at you with his sword. His attack fails, and now he is busy fending himself against the beast—a black-winged hawk twice, almost three times, the size of a normal adult man’s head.

The hawk is ferocious. The animal’s shrill continues to echo through the woods as it fights against the man in the tattered uniform and rusted armour, attacking his head, face, hands, and any part of his body that is not shielded by armour or the rapid swing of his sword.

Distracted by the other fight, you almost miss it when your first opponent regains his composure and makes his move. He lunges, taking the opportunity that was presented to him in your distraction, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision, aiming straight to your left shoulder—or your throat, coming from the left, you cannot be too sure.

Yet you manage to deflect with just a small struggle, your blade clashing against his with a resounding clang. You twist your wrist as you rush forward, pressing on him and redirecting the force of the impact with a swift swipe aimed at his exposed side. He staggers back as your sword hits right beneath his armour, at the soft spot of his waist that is unprotected with nothing more but the belt holding up his sheath.

Pointing your sword at his face, you snap at him, “Who are you?”

A grunt escapes his lips as he finds his balance, while you use this chance to get a good look at him. His long and straggly raven hair is pulled to the back, leaving only a few loose and messy strands framing his sharp and defined face. There is a scar crossing his left eye, starting from right above the eyebrow to an inch below his bottom lashes. The shadows from the grove give him the perfect veil over his tanned skin and dark armour, yet you can still see the scars lining up his exposed arm, indicating that he isn’t one to be messed with.

His narrowed eyes flicker towards his companion who has failed to join the fight, the black-winged hawk keeps getting in the way of him trying to get closer. “We’re the ones who are supposed to be asking,” the scarred swordsman snaps at you. “You’re trespassing on private property. This place is forbidden to enter.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks to try and rein in your emotions and think of how to respond. You doubt that he will be so understanding if you try to tell him how you managed to arrive at this place.

“Then you must forgive me. I suppose I must’ve missed the sign,” you choose to say, realising that any form of logic would never work to defend yourself. “That still didn’t give you the right to swing your sword at people without a warning.”

Your opponent raises his sword back up and adjusts his stance to ready himself for another strike. “The only one who hasn’t got the right to be here is you.”

Scowling, while stealing a glance towards the other fight that is slowly dying down—the hawk already lessening its attacks when your second assailant is growing weak and tired—you try to calm yourself down and reason with him. “Listen, I’m just passing through. I mean no harm, and I have no means to cause any trouble.” Lifting your free hand up, you show him your open palm to support your claim. “Please, just let me pass.”

The scarred swordsman refuses to back down and sneers at you. “I find that hard to believe. Not many can find this place, much less to pass the borders, especially by mere coincidence.”

Pressing your lips together, you try to push down the shivers running through you at his words. You have no idea why you keep ending up in these places ever since you began travelling through the portals again.

Forbidden lands. Closed-off borders. Places where your protection spell suddenly becomes null.

A sacred land.

You have been keeping your eyes on your opponent while you are trying to process this, only to fail to notice that the other man has somehow found his bearings. The second assailant, now freed from the ominous hawk, seizes the opportunity and advances towards you with a flurry of rapid strikes. As if he is trying to express his anger over his wounds and his defeat against the wild animal by inflicting the same harm on you.

Yet he isn’t aware of how high your adrenaline is at the moment—both from the sparring you did with the royal guard earlier and the fight you just had with his companion. Your body may be spent, your mind is still reeling over what the first armoured man said to you about this place, yet your senses are still on high alert.

Your reflex is quick, and you weave and dodge his attack with barely seconds to spare. Your sword meets his blade in a series of sparks. In his anger, his movements are out of order and reckless, which will be dangerous for you to continue engaging as they are too unpredictable. Unable to read and to deflect easily.

Heart pounding, you spin to evade his final attack and snap the hilt of your sword against his bruising temple before delivering a sharp kick to his chest. The attack sends him stumbling backwards just as your first opponent returns to strike you from the other side. You sidestep from his swinging sword and retaliate, striking him from his right. Your sword finds its mark, cutting through his armour and drawing blood.

A pained cry leaves his lips as he falls back, giving a chance for his partner who has somehow recovered quickly to take over the fight.

The continuous assaults are beginning to drain you. Your body not only trembles as your second attacker returns with a strike, but you can almost feel sure you are seeing stars the moment your swords collide with each other. Your breath is heavy and ragged, your heart is pounding so hard it becomes the only thing you can hear, and both your muscles and bones are aching. As you stagger back, you realise that these men are trying to push you deeper into the grove, away from the temple and the city altogether.

Keeping your eyes on them as they prowl closer, you wonder if there is something hidden in the grove. But your mind is too preoccupied with focusing on how to survive this fight to even try and figure out what is hidden in the shadows.

Your upward swipe draws blood from your second attacker as your blade scraps his unprotected hips and your side kick brings him to his knee. You duck under a high swing and thrust your sword upward once again when his companion returns, catching him off guard when his surprise attack fails. He falters, clearly just as exhausted and spent as you are while bleeding profusely from the side of his waist. So you take the chance to disarm him with one strike, sending his sword skittering across the muddy ground.

Enraged, he makes a sound from deep inside his throat—which sounds like a growl—and pulls out a dagger from his back to retaliate. Cursing under your breath, you press down your shaking legs to the soot-covered ground beneath you and ready yourself to counter his attack when a voice sharply bellows from behind you, echoing through the grove.

“That’s enough!”

At the ominous voice, everything stills. The men that you have been fighting with, the wind, and even the will for you to move. Keeping your sword pointed at your opponent, you turn to look over your shoulder to see the intruder.

Pressure clamps down in your chest as the figure slips out of the shadow, worrying that you are about to face yet another threat. One should have been enough, two were already too many. And if you are going to have to deal with three—

Turning sideways to get a better look at your intruder without losing sight of your assailants, you bring the short sword forward to prepare yourself for an attack. The sound of their footsteps grows nearer, and you prepare to swing your hand down at them, only to immediately stop once the cloaked figure steps out into the limited streaks of sunlight filtering into the grove.

“You can put that thing away, child. I mean no harm,” the figure speaks in a gentle, yet firm tone of voice.

Thin, veiny hands are raised, gently lowering the hood of her cloak to reveal the sight of an old woman. The ageing lines on her face are visible even without any adequate light, and they soften when she smiles. Her hazel-brown eyes glint brightly under the dim lights falling on her as she takes you in. So bright, it looks almost golden. Her silver grey hair is pulled back to a thick braid, a striking difference to her rich golden-brown skin.

She stands there in silence after revealing herself to you, clasping her hands together over her torso as she waits until you put the weapon away, sheathing it back to the left side of your hip. But your grip remains on the hilt of your sheathed sword, holding steady, even if it’s only for the sake of finding any semblance of strength while preparing yourself in case the situation suddenly changes again.

The woman’s gaze follows your hand, taking account of the way your grip is tightening on your weapon. She makes no remark on it, however, as she looks up with a smile to regard the three of you, including the poor man still kneeling on the dirt, who—now that everything has calmed down—you are finally getting a good look on for the first time.

Unlike his companion, the wounded swordsman looks a bit younger, with dirty blond hair and a mesh of curls on top of a boyish round face that is now marred with streaks of blood—the work of the massive hawk earlier. His bright blue eyes are wide, which seems as if they are perpetually filled with fear. His hands have fallen to his sides, slightly trembling, seen through the sword that he is still carrying, and it pleases you to know that you weren’t the one having a tough time during the fight.

“Now, there really is no need for all this violence, is there?” the woman says, which only draws a scowl to your face upon hearing it.

“They attacked me first,” you point out with a scoff.

A rueful smile comes to her face. “I apologise for their rudeness, my dear. They’re not exactly used to welcoming surprise guests coming to our home,” she says, tilting her head down with more respect than an elder would normally give to a younger stranger. “But it is nice to see someone visiting our homeland again after so long. It might be too late to say this, but you are welcome here.”

The scarred man, who is clearly unhappy with this situation, snaps out of it and shouts, “High Priestess Gaia! What are you saying? She came in here without permission.”

He is soon joined by his wounded companion who suddenly finds his missing bravado to reason, “This place has been abandoned and forgotten for a long time. For someone to be able to come here means—”

“It means that they might have gotten their hands on a special key, or that fate has led her way here, just in time for the Full Moon Rite,” the woman—High Priestess Gaia—cuts off their rambling calmly, almost sounding like a mother chastising her rude boys. She gives them a pointed look as she adds, “Or the poor soul could have been lost. I’ve lived much longer in this realm than you have been, child. I don’t need you to lecture me about how things work in this place.”

Sensing no danger coming from her, you loosen your guard a little—shoulders sagging in quick relief and your hands falling away from your sheathed sword.

“So tell me. Are you lost, child?”

Feeling unsure, you glance back and forth between the Priestess and the swordsmen before answering. “I, uh—” You take a deep breath, suddenly finding it hard to think of the right words to say. “I was just passing by,” you finally manage to speak. Sighing, you try to shake off the tension still rolling in your body and tilt your head down, greeting the Priestess as formally as you can. “Forgive me for trespassing. I had no idea if this place was forbidden to enter.”

“It’s not,” High Priestess Gaia says without missing a beat—before any of the swordsmen can get a word in. “Just like the boy said. This place has been lost in time with no one coming to visit for a long time. Be it out of fear, or because this place has been written off from the maps of the realm.”

You can sense the movement from one of the swordsmen as he shifts on his feet, as if trying to dispute the high priestess’ words. Gaia, noticing the same thing, releases a deep sigh and looks over at them.

“Go back to the Keep. It’s almost time for the rite. I’m sure you will be more useful for the priests there,” she firmly says, and then turns to the wounded man still sitting on the ground to add, “And you’ll want to look at those wounds and have them tended.”

The scarred swordsman—the one still standing—grits his teeth, as if he is about to deny the order given to him. But then his companion lets out a deep grunt in his effort to rise to his feet, and he finally gives in. Nodding his head, the scarred swordsman swallows his displeasure and bends down to retrieve his sword. He glares at you as he sheaths his sword, before turning to help his friend to his feet.

“I’ll take him to the healer,” he says, bowing slightly at the priestess. Facing you again, his glare returns, as sharp as the tip of his sword as he swears, “Fates be damned, but if you even think about leaving a scratch on Gaia’s skin or posing a threat to her, I will come back here and end you myself.”

You return his glare with a stubborn tilt of your chin. “And as I have repeatedly said, I never meant any harm. I can promise you that there will be no harm committed to your priestess.”

Keeping your gaze locked on the scarred guard, you can see it when he finally backs down, the defiant look in his eyes wavering before he acknowledges you with a short nod. Wrapping the younger one’s arm around his shoulder so he can support him, he says nothing else and simply bows to the high priestess before finally walking away.

You watch them go, wobbling through the trees before they disappear in the shadows as they search for a healer.

“Go back to the Keep.”

So you were right, after all. There is something beyond this grove. You wonder if there are other swordsmen like them stationed in the Keep—guards who are responsible of watching over the temple and the ruined city—and were planning to hold you hostage there. Shaking your head, you choose not to dwell in the thought and turn to face the high priestess again.

She still has her eyes following the swordsmen, watching over them like a mother would to her sons.

Glancing over her shoulder, you realise that she is standing on the path which leads you back to the temple. It makes you wonder if that was where she had come from.

Has she been in the temple all along?

“I wasn’t aware that there was someone in the temple when I was in there.”

The wise, old woman turns her gaze towards you and smiles. “Strictly speaking, I was not. I was praying in my chamber. I only came down here because I felt something calling for me at the temple. Thought it was her, but I guess I was wrong,” she says with a deep, almost bitter chuckle. Her words and the look in her eyes are hollow when she mutters almost to herself, “I should’ve known better. It’s been too long since she came to visit this place.”

‘Her’?

The way she is speaking in riddles while looking as if she is lost in her own thoughts—memories—draws an icy, uneasy chill through your body. Her eyes appear haunted, as if lost somewhere in the past. That look lasts merely a moment longer before it fades, warmth fills her almost-golden eyes when she regards you again. But then the uneasiness returns when you are made to feel as if she is looking straight into your soul, unravelling your secrets without so much of a spell.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Not really,” you reluctantly admit. Unlike E’l Alora, which you were able to identify before ever stepping foot into their human town, this place doesn’t remind you at all of anything that you have ever read in your book of Ancients and Magic. “In a way, you were right, I got lost and stranded here for some reason.”

A light sound of laughter leaves you, only that it comes out a bit shaky with nerves.

“Forgive me if I sound rude, but,” you glance around the grove, shuddering under the shadows that have grown thicker now that the sun has lowered from the sky. “May I know what exactly is this place?”

The old woman looks at you with a knowing smile. “Come. It would be better if we find someplace more comfortable for us to talk,” she says to you as she turns, ready to head back to the direction where she came from. She might have sensed your hesitation, because she glances down at your forearm and gently points out, “Maybe we can also do something about that wound.”

You follow her gaze and look down, surprised to see a tear on your sleeve. From the torn fabric, you can see a long slash on the skin of your forearm, fresh blood still leaking out. A wound that came from the fight without you realising it.

“Oh, I didn’t realise,” you murmur with a flinch. You recall feeling a sting on your forearm at one point during the fight, yet you ignored it, focusing more on deflecting their swords and pushing back. Now that you finally notice the wound, your brain begins to register the pain.

Pressing your palm against the wound, you look at the high priestess with narrowed eyes. “You could’ve sent me off with your men to have this looked at.”

Gaia merely scoffs, as if the thought of allowing you to join the guards would have been unfathomable. “And risk them disobeying me once I’m not looking?” she asks, “I hope you’ll excuse those boys. They have taken their duty to guard this place to heart—perhaps a bit too much. Though I can’t excuse them for their rash behaviour. They should’ve reported to me first or any of the high priests before taking actions.”

You quickly shake your head. “I should be the one apologising for causing trouble.”

“There is no need,” she says. You can almost hear her smile when she turns away from you. “Now, come, before that wound gets worse. And you also fought quite hard, so who knows if there’s any other we’re not seeing.”

Lowering your arms to your side, you begin to follow the high priestess. But just as you are about to leave the fighting ground, Gaia lifts her hood and looks up to the trees.

“You might want to alert your friend and tell him that you’re doing fine with me. That might stop him from worrying too much,” she suddenly says, pointing up towards the black-winged hawk that had joined the fight earlier, now perched on one of the thin, twisted branches hanging above your head.

At the height of the fight, you have forgotten about it.

When you first saw it, you had simply thought that the hawk only appeared because you had intruded on its home. But Gaia’s comment only puts a confused frown on your face.

“What? But I thought the hawk is with you,” you question her, thinking that the animal is a part of the land, therefore, related to Gaia and the temple. But your question only draws another soft chuckle coming from her.

“Oh, no, dear. That handsome hawk came in together with you,” she says as she looks over her shoulder with a knowing smile, leaving you to wonder where the beast had come from, and why it had involved itself in your fight.

You were quite right for assuming that the high priestess had come from the mountain temple.

Well, you were partially right.

After your quick chat at the grove, Gaia led you back towards the mountain temple. But the moment you entered the entrance tunnel leading back into the main temple, she made a sharp turn and entered through an aperture in the stone wall that you had missed on your way out. It was dark, yet the moment she walked past the wall, torches lit up with flames that burned without any heat, illuminating the corridor and the set of stone steps leading upwards.

You followed her until she entered a simple stone room above the tunnel. The chamber was narrow and high-ceilinged, with candlelights flickering on the stone walls and the small wooden altar set on the end of the chamber. You saw no sight of a statue or drawings of any known Ancients around the altar, yet the wooden top was filled with scriptures, rolled and drawn open, with an opened book laid on the center.

Aside from the altar, the chamber was limitedly furnished. Nothing but one dark rug made up of animal skin covering the front of the altar, a shelf in the corner of the room which was filled with herbs and mixing bowls and even more books, and a single divan covered in silk—that was where you settled down soon after you entered the chamber.

And now the chamber is filled with the scent of herbs, a concoction that she made to help heal your wound. It feels cold on your skin, and it leaves an obvious stain which requires you to roll up your sleeve to avoid it getting soiled—even though you still worried about explaining the tear and the blood stain once you would have to hand it over to the palace maid.

“Seeing the way you are looking at this place, it seems that you’ve been to another sacred land before,” Gaia says, stating a fact rather than questioning, as she gently wraps a bandage around your wounded forearm, sealing the medicinal herbs while stopping your bleeding.

Nodding, you choose to explain it the best you can without giving too many details about your ‘trips,’ and without revealing that it had been merely a day before when you first encountered another sacred land. “I’ve travelled to different places, oftentimes finding myself stranded in strange places,” you share with a chuckle, “Such as this one.”

Gaia smiles and finishes her work. “Our homeland, this city of mountains, is called Arselon,” she says as she gathers the bowl of mixed herbs and bandages and starts putting them away. “The mountain temple has always been known as the temple of Arselon, even though it used to have its own name. Many used to travel far to come to our rites, specifically the nights of the full moon. Just like what’s happening tonight.”

You have so many questions. Much about this place, and more about the people that had once resided here. Gaia, as if she can read your mind, turns to light up fresh candles to replace the ones that have burned out while she was gone, and continues to tell you more about this place. “Back then, the Ancients—our ancestors—built these temples to worship their Gods and Goddesses, to pray for the sanctity of the realm and to pass down their wisdom. Unlike the humans in the mortal realm, the residents of the Far Far Away Land today no longer hold the same rites, and only a small few still worship the sources of their powers, while only using these temples to pray and wish for blessings from their ancestors. It has been that way since the Ancients who built this realm were long gone.”

Gaia returns to your side with a glass of wine—for healing, she had explained earlier when she first pointed out the decanter resting on the wooden shelf. “This place used to be where the Priests and Priestess would hold lectures and sermons to the people, spreading the knowledge about our Ancients and magic, and the history behind the creation of the realm.”

Gaia’s eyes turn towards the flickering candles, and then the small altar. “We still keep most of the scriptures that recounted the story of the Ancients, the history behind the realm, and the secrets of magic. Yet we no longer have as many as we used to. All that we have left are preserved in small chambers such as this one, hidden libraries and storages in various parts of this mountain temple.”

Your eyes follow her gaze to the scriptures on the altar, the chests lying beneath, and the shelf which is lined up with old books. You refuse to believe that this is all that was left of all the documented history that this place has to preserve, but before you can say anything, Gaia confirms it with sadness written in her gaze.

“Once, this land was seen and regarded as a sacred place, a holy land, yet this is all that was left behind over time.” A resigned sigh escapes her lips before she smiles grimly. “Now you understand why our young guards were uncompromising when it came to protecting this place.”

The smile that you give her feels just as grim. Your mouth feels bitter from her grievance, from the dark history shadowing this place, so you raise your glass to wash it all down. Your chest aches to think about what was lost. Recalling what you have learned after your visit to E’l Alora, you take a deep breath and question her, “Was it the war, that came to this land?”

Gaia grimly nods. “The Great Siege.”

Once the sun has set, and nightfall comes, Gaia invites you to witness the rite.

It is an offer that you cannot possibly refuse.

You follow Gaia through a different corridor—one that was yet again hidden in the stone wall—on the other side of her private chamber, emerging on one of the alcoves on the upper tier which you saw earlier. From here, you have the perfect view of the rite from above, the entire part of the temple is visible for you to experience the ceremony while remaining hidden from sight.

The temple has already fascinated you before, regardless of its vacancy and forlorn facade that you witnessed when you first entered the place.

Seeing the temple coming alive with the rite fascinates you even more; with worshippers and believers making use of this dark place. They arrive soon after dusk in various shades of cloaks and robes, candlelights flickering to eliminate the shadows and melodic chants of prayers bouncing against the dark stone walls.

Standing at the center of the raised dais is a priest in a white robe, with a few others standing on either side of him, all carrying candles in their hands while leading the prayers. The guards, including the two that you met earlier in the grove, are wearing dark robes over their armours as they line up below the dais, watching over the rite and helping out those who have arrived with offerings to place around the dais.

You watch with keen eyes as the rite continues. The people move like a steady current, in motion with the rhythm of the chanting prayers echoing through the temple. You watch in awe as they move in a practised gesture—the way they walk up in line to light up the candles around the dais before moving back to the nave, where they follow the motion by passing and exchanging candles between each other.

The way the flickering flames seem to be weaving through the people becomes such a captivating sight. The lights and flames spread across the temple until the entire hall comes alight—a symbol of life surviving in the dark, of the people who survived the darkness, and the story that has been written of their past, present, and future.

“Once, in the past, this holy land burned with life. Candles were lit up to celebrate life, to honour our blessings, and to pray for the Ancients that were watching over us from above,” Gaia speaks from beside you, her voice gentle and soft, almost as melodic as the prayers echoing down below. But then her voice turns grim as she speaks of the past, “And then they came, bringing in their deathly flames, and this city burned into ashes.”

You turn to look at Gaia as she suddenly laughs. A pained and bitter laugh that pierces through your chest.

“Well, most of them,” she adds with a wry smile, “This temple and the ruins you saw outside are what was left of this place. Decades, centuries worth of a civilization reduced to nothing more but skeletons of our homes, schools, temples, and everything that our elders had built for the sake of preserving the treasure of knowledge and faith left behind by the Ancients. The only thing that those flames failed to diminish was the spirit of our people.”

As she continues to speak, Gaia’s eyes light up. Her grief is soon replaced by hope. “These people,” she says, as she watches the people below, ”They may have lost their homes, the lands that they had spent generations cultivating for the benefit of our homeland, yet they continue to thrive through the pain of our dark past, surviving the best they can with all that we have left, even if it means that we all have to remain hidden in the shadows.”

“But where do these people live?” you ask, as you have been wondering ever since the first time you stepped foot in this place, “Where do you all live, when the city is no longer safe?”

“In places that our own homeland provides for us, just like how this temple came to be,” Gaia explains. “There are people who live within and in the heart of the mountains, in homes that were built in the stone walls, and even under the dry, rocky peaks spread across the land. It may not be much, compared to what we used to have just decades ago, yet we have found our solitude in enclosed spaces such as this temple that protects us all.”

Down below, the rite continues. The movement of the candles has gone slower, and so are the chants recited by the priests and priestesses leading the ceremony. There are only a small amount of offerings laid on the dais, but there are so many candles to make up for what is lacking.

“After the war, the only times that our candles were lit were to hold vigils and prayers for the Ancients to liberate us from our suffering,” Gaia continues as you watch the priests and priestesses leaving the raised dais, slowly making their way to the center of the temple where the pool of water is present. “Now, we light our candles to reflect, to pay homage to those who sacrificed their lives to protect what now remains of our home, and to remember our dark history so we can replace our pain with new hope.”

The movements within the temple shift. This time, the guards in their dark robes are the ones to make their move, weaving through the believers with the silver chalices filled with wine in their hands. Carefully, the guards pass the chalices to the people, who then each take a drink from them before passing them over to the next in line.

Gaia gently explains that the drinking of wine symbolises living for the future, to drink for the dead and the forgotten ancestors while celebrating the old life that they have lost.

Your eyes move to the pool of water, realising only now that the full moon—which appears through the opening above the temple—is reflected perfectly on the surface of the water.

The leaders of the ceremony move to stand around the pool to sing their prayers, joined in by their followers who are lining behind them in the nave. At the end of the rite, the priests and priestesses retreat to the back of the temple, while the worshippers step forward to take their place.

One by one, the people come down to their knees to pray to the moon’s reflection in the water, before finally releasing the small candles that they have been holding into the pool, allowing them to float around the image of the bright moon.

“To the sky, we pray for the future. To the land, we pray for the dead. To the water, we pass our wishes to the moon, hoping that it will one day pass down to us its blessings, the same way it once did to the Ancients who walked on this realm.”

You continue to watch as this ritual continues, allowing every single worshipper to do their part of the ceremony until they dwindle into small groups of people praying beyond the dais. You have become so enthralled by the scene that you barely notice that Gaia has left your side until she returns.

“Don’t you think it’s time for you to go home?” she asks, snapping you out of your daze. As you turn to her, Gaia hands you a folded cloth—a dark robe—something which she says may help you blend in with the remaining groups of people below so you can safely slip away from the temple.

You are still in such a daze after witnessing the rite—something that feels so divine and sacred that it gives you a sense of peace and grief at the same time—that it doesn’t register to you the fact that the priestess seems to have knowledge of your time limit until much later. You simply listen to her instructions on how to reach the ground level—back to where your exit is located—as you put on the robe, covering your appearance as much as you can to avoid gaining unwanted attention.

“Our home is open to travellers like yourself, should you ever decide to return and find some interest to learn more about us,” Gaia adds right before you go. “Regardless of what Gen and Edmund said earlier, this place isn’t as closed off or forbidden as it was made to be. We have closed our borders, but some of us believe that it would only be right to maintain the faith that our elders once had about opening our doors to other believers.”

In her gaze, the same hope you saw lights up the same way the candlelights below are still burning brightly. “The longer we are hidden from the world, the more we will be forgotten. And the knowledge of the past that we have spent centuries protecting will one day be lost in time, exactly what our enemies had once aimed towards when they brought their flames to our home.”

Just as Gaia is about to send you off down the stone steps, she reaches out to grab your hands, holding them gently in hers. “Promise me that you’ll return one day. That you’ll never forget about us,” she calmly asks while holding her pleading gaze on yours. Your body stiffens when you feel her passing something into your palm, and you instinctively wrap your palm around it firmly to keep it from falling.

“I promise. I’ll return one day, hopefully in better circumstances than the present,” you promise her with a smile, not bothering to say something as you accept the small token that she has given you and slip it into your pocket without looking. You keep your gaze steady on hers as you whisper, “Thank you.”

As you slip through the worshippers who are still deep in their prayers, making your way to the back of the dais to find the hidden portal door, you suddenly feel the heat of a gaze following your movement. Cautiously, you turn to look over your shoulder, expecting to see the familiar glare from the guard that you fought previously tracking your escape.

But what is looking back at you isn’t at all human.

Perched atop the bannister on the upper floor, you see the magnificent-looking black-winged hawk that had appeared during your fight earlier. With its wings pulled back, its eyes are wide open, glaring at you attentively as if it is keeping watch at your departure. Staring back at it, the animal’s gaze feels menacing and comforting at the same time, yet something deep inside is telling you that the hawk is there without any malicious intent. It is simply there to watch you, to see you go, and it remains in its position when you turn away, slipping under the banner and into the magic portal to return home.

As the wave of magic taking you away from the sacred land ripples through the space around you, the hawk flaps its wings and rises from its perch, making its own way back home to where it came from.

Emburn Empire has come alive tonight.

The full moon looks bright in the night sky, casting a divine glow into the land.

The imperial palace and its Moon Temple look radiant under the night sky, the white walls and pillars made up of Clayntine Stone reflecting the moonlight glow so perfectly that they glimmer like magic crystals.

Within the walls of the Moon Temple of Aone, candlelights flicker and burn, casting a golden glow across the praying hall. Both inside and on the outer grounds of the moon temple, the people of Emburn have come and gathered to witness the rite. From above, the candlelights appear like an ocean of living inferno—the ocean of hope, as the Royal Priests would call it.

Ever since he was a young boy, Yoongi has always enjoyed the Runea Luna Eve, the night of the full moon, when the rite is held to celebrate and pay homage to the Ancients who had built the land of Emburn. Tonight, however, he is too restless to enjoy the celebration, feeling too disconnected to even pay attention to the ceremony unfolding right in front of him.

The Moon Temple of Aone is full tonight; the commoners are taking up the space below, while the nobles and royals claim the seats on the upper tiers and the mezzanine floors. Many carry their own candles in their hands as a symbol of their hope, but all have their eyes set on the front of the raised dais at the head of the temple, where the Royal High Priest is giving his sermon and leading the prayers.

Two identical thrones sit on the center of the raised dais. The Empress of Emburn, Empress Ariane, sits on one of them, while the one beside her is left empty in the absence of the ailing Emperor. Behind her, two rows of long benches are set to accommodate the members of the Royal Priesthood on one side, while the Royal Aides who are present to show support for the Empress fill the other side.

The Crown Prince sits on the balcony on the top left of the dais, together with the highest nobles and the royal guests who were invited to witness the ceremony. Including the royal guests that Yoongi is currently—and quite reluctantly—hosting in place of the Empress; Byron Koshar, the new Emperor of the Neo Empire of Kosha, and his second daughter, Princess Celestyna.

“You’ll have to keep the Princess company during the rite tonight. Treat her well, be polite about it, and make her feel welcome,” was the warning that Empress Ariane had given Yoongi earlier today during the preparation for the rite. “You need to build a positive relationship with the Kosha Empire to gain support for your future.”

“Must I take up the responsibility for your guests, Mother? There are tons of nobles here that would be more suitable and willing to be their hosts.”

At Yoongi’s complaint, the Empress turned and glared. Obviously displeased that her son is unwilling to do her bidding. “Those nobles aren’t the ones who are going to take the throne now, are they?” she scolded him then with a sharp tone of voice that made him wince. “Do this for the Empire, for the Emperor, and for your position on the throne.”

Yoongi had chosen not to argue, realising that there was no way he could win against Empress Ariane once she made the decree.

He isn’t even sure why it would be necessary for him to gain support from Kosha Empire. It’s not like there will be anyone to contest his position for the throne once the time comes. And it’s not like he’s eager to take the crown so prematurely, with the Emperor still living and breathing and capable enough to continue ruling, and while he is still in the process of courting his future Empress.

Even if there are parties of nobles or royal blood who would dare to challenge his position on the throne, Yoongi cannot possibly see how being ‘good friends’ with the second Princess would give him the advantage to refute the challenge. He feels bitter to think that the Empress may have any intention of arranging some forming of an alliance by matching them together.

Marriage arrangements made to gain favour from a strong ally are not unheard of, but it isn’t something that Yoongi would be willing to partake in. Not even at the risk of losing his position on the throne.

And he cannot possibly agree with such an arrangement when he already has someone who was chosen for him since the day he was born.

Yoongi holds back an exasperated groan and looks up at the exposed dome ceiling above. Through the see-through ceiling made up of Shadow Crystal, the full moon is clearly visible, illuminating the temple’s hall with its glow.

Keeping his eyes on the moon helps him detach himself from the present. His restless mind is so quick to wander, filled with the thoughts of you. He wonders where you might be spending your evening, and if you are looking up at the moon the way he is doing now. He also wonders if you are safe, wherever you are.

“…as we send our gratitude to the moon, tonight, we remember our great ancestor, the Fairy King Aone, the Ancient Hunter who had borrowed the magic from the moon to build Emburn from the ashes and has continued to bring prosperity to the people…”

The Royal High Priest’s voice echoes through the grand hall, pulling Yoongi’s attention back to the ceremony that is slowly coming to an end.

Back in the past, the sermons and praises for the Ancient Hunter would have been followed by a sacrament which lasted for the entire night, beginning from nightfall to the coming of dawn, filled with chantings of prayers for the ancestors, the Ancients, and the moon.

In the present time, the ritual will be followed with festivities. A night of celebration where the people will pour into the streets to sing and dance and drink as much wine as their minds and bodies would allow until the dawn comes.

Once Yoongi has his attention on the raised dais, his eyes flickering towards the altar and the statue of the Ancient Hunter standing in the center, he feels something pulling at him. A pulse. A shot of magic calling for his attention, and it seems to be coming from the ground floor of the temple.

Yoongi looks across the grand hall as a dark figure slips out from behind one of the white pillars, wearing a black robe with its hood raised over his head, hiding his face and features from prying eyes.

Sensing Yoongi’s eyes on him, the person lifts his head, meeting Yoongi’s gaze with his own from the distance, revealing himself to be none other than Yoongi’s best friend and right-hand man.

Yijeong.

Upon meeting Yoongi’s gaze, Yijeong nods once. A subtle gesture that the busy worshippers around him will surely miss. But the one gesture is enough for the Crown Prince. The message has been delivered and received.

She’s home safe.

With a gesture that is just as subtle, Yoongi responds with a slight tilt of his head and then leans back into his seat. The anxiety which has been weighing on him since the moment he felt the ripple of magic—the omen signifying that a portal has been opened—is soon lifted.

His job done, Yijeong steps back into the shadow, drifting out of the crowd of people and out of the moon temple just as the Royal High Priest ends his sermon. The air immediately shifts as the Royal Priests step away from the altar. One by one, the people begin to disperse—some making time to walk up to the altar and the dais to leave their candles and bow to the Empress, while others walk out towards the nearest stream to release their candles and let them drift along with the flowing water, hoping that they would bring their wishes back to the land that they are worshipping or wherever the stream of Marble Falls and the Armere River will take them.

In the absence of the Royal Priests’ sermons and prayers, the sound of music begins, carrying on with the evening breeze like a draft, a sign for the festivities celebrating the full moon and the birth of the Ancient Hunter to begin.

Yoongi looks over to the throne as Empress Ariane rises from her seat, throwing a barely-there glance towards the balcony, straight where the Crown Prince and his guest—his date for the night, if that is what the Empress has in mind—are sitting in.

The bitterness that he felt earlier returns when he meets the Empress’ gaze. He knows that she isn’t turning to see if the Crown Prince—her son—is having a blast during the ceremony. He knows that the Empress is simply checking to see if he is doing his duty as the perfect host for the people that he wants absolutely nothing to do with.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on his mother until she steps away, leaving the temple through the rear exit which leads towards the royal drawing room, the priests and priestesses and her royal aides trailing right behind. Yoongi nearly shoves himself out of his seat as he rises, ready—perhaps too eager—to end his night and return to the palace.

Just as Yoongi is about to turn and bid his farewell to the Emperor of Kosha—who has been busy chatting with a noble from the city called Mosshaven, the city of merchants at the south end of Emburn—and the other nobles who have been there with him, Princess Celestyna speaks first.

“Leaving so soon, Your Highness? Must you really leave now?” she asks. Her tone is gentle and polite, yet it demands attention, the kind that would have put young men to their knees, bending over backwards to please her. “The festivities are only beginning. Wouldn’t the people look forward to having their Crown Prince be a part of it?”

Yoongi forces a smile. For the past few days, Yoongi has been confined in the palace under the Empress’ orders to host the royal guests. Primarily, the second princess. And for the past few days, he was forced to ignore the ripples of magic calling for him, beckoning him to see you, all due to the princess always getting in the way, always inquiring for his company at the same exact time he wished to rush to your side instead.

Always with mundane things that Yoongi would have preferred to avoid, to rather deal with important matters instead of wasting it with an afternoon stroll through the royal gardens, or have tea and biscuits by the Emerald Lake, or have him escorting her through the various estates in the Imperial Palace’s territory and help her learn about the arts and culture of Emburn.

The fact is, he has grown tired of it. He has wasted too much precious time which he could have spent with you.

Even looking at the Princess makes him feel exhausted and weary. At least, tonight, he can use the festivities as an excuse to find some semblance of freedom. To untangle himself from the responsibility that has been forced on him.

“I’m sure the people will be able to have fun without me being there,” Yoongi smoothly says, “There are other members of the royal family who will be joining the festivities and would no doubt feel honoured to keep you company. I’m sure they’ll be better party companions than I would.”

Princess Celestyna’s face pinches with displeasure—a look which reminds Yoongi too much of his mother which, undeniably, the only reminder that the Empress is indeed distantly related to the royal family of Kosha—yet she is quick to conceal it with a thin smile. The same practised smile that she has been wearing each time she was in the company of the Empress, Yoongi took notice.

“Well, I was expecting that we could perhaps share the first dance during the celebration. This is my first time joining such a grand event, after all, and I heard a member of the royal family has always been the one to start the dancing,” she says with a deliberate tone that is meant to seduce, to allure, while she leans slightly forward to get closer to Yoongi.

Close enough for Yoongi to smell the scent of the perfume that she had pasted around her collarbone and between her breasts. A strong, sultry scent of orchid with a hint of spiciness to it. Yoongi prefers something sweet, subtle and fresh. Something that reminds him of you.

There is also something about the gesture and the way she speaks which seems off to him. Unconvincing and completely unfitting to be something that a person of her character would do. It feels too deliberate. Too hollow and viscous. As if she had practised this act one too many times before she was made to face Yoongi.

A shiver runs through him. The unsettling kind which takes an effort for him to hide.

Pressing his lips, Yoongi tries to reel his annoyance from surfacing. This isn’t the first time that Princess Celestyna has brought up her request to have Yoongi stay by her side for the evening’s events and share a dance with her. The only problem with this offer would be the fact that if Yoongi ever plans on attending the festival, as per tradition, having her as his dance partner and showing her to his people would make everyone think that she is the one he is courting to be the future consort or the next Empress of Emburn.

There is no possible way that he would risk something like this. Not when he already has someone else in mind to introduce to his people.

“Unfortunately, I do have other business to attend to, and I promise that I wouldn’t be able to act as the perfect company or host for Your Highness the Princess tonight if I am to have my focus wandering towards other matters and not be present,” Yoongi reasons with the Princess, using the same words that he used the previous times Princess Celestyna kept trying to convince Yoongi to spend the evening with her.

Yoongi is quite sure that his refusal will no doubt reach the Empress, and there might be chances for him to receive the brunt of the Empress’ ire once he comes face to face with his mother again. Princess Celestyna should know this too, judging from the way her gaze sharpens, and how she is quick to make him another offer before Yoongi can slip away.

“Then you must make it up by sparing your time with me in the afternoon tomorrow,” she urgently asks him with one of her dainty hands placed on Yoongi’s arm, merely inches above his elbow. “Perhaps we can have tea in the Royal Garden once you are done with your duties?”

Yoongi bites back the words of refusal that nearly slip out the moment she speaks. It is an offer that is not quite an open invitation. More like a challenge, a subtle threat, as Yoongi can sense a finality in her words. He can almost hear the words unspoken from her gaze—give me this, or I’ll go to the Empress and make things harder for you.

A resigned sigh slips out of him as Yoongi realises that he has no choice but to play along. At least for now. Only until he can find the chance or an excuse to escape from the second Princess.

His nod is stiff when Yoongi reluctantly accepts her deal. “One of my attendants will come for you in the afternoon once I have tea prepared in the gardens.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Princess Celestyna says with a smile on her face, mirth dancing in her eyes as she finally gets her wish. “I shall be waiting for the good news.”

Bowing towards the Princess, and then to her silent father, the Emperor of Kosha, Yoongi bids his farewell for the night and quickly turns to walk away before any word can be thrown to trample his escape. The long tail of his black coat flares behind him as he walks out of the balcony seats in rapid footsteps.

His hand finds its way to his upper arm as he walks down the stairs, making his exit through the vacant service hall in the back of the temple. He keeps rubbing the skin from over the thick sleeve of his coat to brush away the lingering feeling of the Princess’ hand, wishing it to be your touch instead.

As he makes his way out of the Moon Temple of Aone, Yoongi silently makes up his mind, promising himself that at the next full moon ceremony, he will make sure that he only has you standing by his side.

For your hand to be the only one he would ask for the first dance the next time he joins the Runea Luna Eve.

That day will come, he tells himself. A promise. Soon.

⟶ Author’s note | thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this one, please leave a like/kudo and help reblog the fic to share it with others to enjoy. Any form of feedback is welcome!

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