CHAPTER SIX
Soon, you will wake.

Throughout her youth, despite the occasional mishaps that taunted her from the midst of nowhere, she was given no reason to truly doubt the safety of being within the castle's walls. This is the safest you will ever be, the castle whispers, day in and day out as she remains surrounded by her most trusted at all times of the day. So, just stay here.

But something is wrong. If this is the peak of luxury, of security and of all Kouka's good wrapped up all in one - why, when she turns her back, do the maids whisper and the soldiers sneer? Authority begets distrust always, that much Father tells her and she believes, but the nobles walk through the castle as if it were their own home and don't even pretend to listen to anything the King tells them. Is this natural insubordination?

She looks around. Really looks, and she wishes she didn't.

Those of Wind and Earth are smitten with their leaders. Hak and Geun-tae's sheer existences incite boundless respect and adoration from their people. Fire and Water are more subdued; they believe in and follow their respective Generals, because that is their duty. The Sky Tribe has a similar dynamic with their General, but - not with the King.

With the King, there is only begrudging silence and subordination. Never respect.

She needs to know more. Within Hiryuu Castle, she will never learn, never understand why the people don't love her father like she does. (But even if she knows why, could she ever understand? She loves her father. She could never hate him, no matter what crimes the people held him accountable for.)

So, Aeri is fifteen when she ventures beyond Kuuto for the first time. She expects to see cities reminiscent of the castle town but in different flavours and colours and nothing less - Hak promises the Wind Tribe lands are bountiful and each day is joy-filled, and Sun-hui has only good things to say about her home in a port city of Earth Tribe territory.

She holds them to their words when she visits the Water Tribe, with excuses of diplomacy and connections and new friendships.

(They lied.)

Beyond Hiryuu Castle and even within, when the watchful eyes of the authority can't reach, the people are more than happy to let their grievances regarding the royal family spill into the open. It begins slowly; a farmer marks his dissent to the latest offering of land in lieu of a functional peace treaty, and a landslide of complaints is triggered from the women and men and children and anyone that is near enough to hear it.

She learns. Quickly, even. And she regrets wanting to know.

Hwan is only one in many who have witnessed firsthand the effects of King Il's peaceful rule. He has lived through so much more than she has, so much more than she ever will when her Father is King and a father before a king. (And she loves him; loves the man they all scorn and whose name they speak with such disgust she almost cries. Her father is a good man because she loves him and he loves his daughters more than anything in the world. "The King is wasting away the kingdom's wealth on his daughters' luxuries!" He's not, he's not, he's not. Father loves us. How can she hold that against him the way everyone else seems to? She loves her father. He's not the person they all say he is. He's not the Cowardly King; he's just Father.)

She has only known him for a day but she knows Hwan does not lie. She knows it from the way Sang-chul refuses to look at her even hours after they've left the marketplace, from the way Sun-hui looks at her with pity, pity, pity. Sun-hui is an open book now that they've been acquainted for a few years, and she wishes that wasn't the case. She hates this. She hates them. This can't be real.

But she knows it is.

(She knows it in the memory of the blade carved through her shoulder, in the blood that pours endlessly from the wounds of her most trusted, from the sickness that the King has allowed to fester in his kingdom. She knows it, now.)

It stings. Her mouth moves before her brain can stop it and she knows, she knows, she knows she's wrong, but the King is her Father and Father has always been so kind, so loving, so good, how could he possibly be the man they all paint him as?

But, it's true. No matter how much she wishes it wasn't, the evidence is splayed before her very eyes, dancing within arm's reach, taunting her with it's omnipresence.

The castle is resplendent in its vibrant hues and the Princesses would be hard pressed to find something they want for but cannot reach. The castle town is lively and welcomes visitors in its brightest tones. And in the border towns of Water a war is brewing, orphaned children caught up in schemes far beyond their understanding; in Kuuto, her soldiers' families are scrambling for anything, anything, anything to keep them going, even surrendering their own flesh and blood to the desperation for survival; in the Earth Tribe's port city an expansive, inter-country trafficking system is crippling the people and the home they love beyond their ever-cherished General's sight.

Kouka is not the utopia that castle life makes it out to be, and it hurts to admit it. Because Father is kind and so is General Mun-dok and even General Geun-tae and Joo-doh strike her as the type to care violently for their people and to protect them.

They do protect them - in the wars they've fought, and the wars her Father will not allow to be fought because he is protecting them, too.

But from what?

Kouka is ruining itself from the inside out, from the land being lost so recklessly, from the governance being held so leniently, from the royalty that doesn't do enough. And being forced to admit that is enough to make her want to cry (she does cry, and she feels all the more pathetic for it) and everything about this place makes her want to run away to the castle, to home, where the murmurs of her Father's failures can't reach her ears, where she doesn't have to hate and hate and hate the people who would lay down their lives for her.

She does.

(The whispers follow.)

Aeri can finally breathe again when the familiar stone gates enter her view and she is ushered within the familiar walls. The castle is where Yona and Father (Father who is King, Father who is not enough of a King-) await, and it is where she will always return.

Hwan does not share the sentiment.

His gaze flits this way and that, even Sang-chul's callous teasing not enough to relax him out of his vigilance. He flinches when he's presented before King Il, though wisely holding his tongue, and Aeri makes sure to keep their interaction as brief as her Father's concerns will allow. (Concerns for the way his daughter winces away from his touch, for the trembling hands she only barely hides beneath her sleeves, for the obsessive way she glances over her shoulder and commands her guards to walk where she can see them, can know they are around her. She pretends she doesn't notice any of it.)

She doesn't hesitate to make her return known to the residents of the castle, the newest arrival pulled along behind her. Hwan can't stay uncomfortable for long, she thinks, in an obvious attempt to redirect her own attentions. He promised him a home, and there's not going to be much of one if she stays so stiff and uncomfortable. Yona and Hak should be able to ease him out of his concerns.

And they do. Yona peers curiously at Hwan, questions bouncing off her tongue ceaselessly. (Because Yona has seen just as much of Kouka as Aeri has, sheltered in Hiryuu Castle as she was - Not anymore, she thinks, lips dipping in displeasure. Aeri has left once. She won't be able to satisfy herself with lies anymore.) Hak glowers over her shoulder, not quite intending to be as intimidating as he is, but Hwan doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems more at home next to Hak and his glares than he does with Yona's boundless enthusiasm, but at least he's not sulking anymore.

Aeri watches over them like a proud but disapproving mother, because really, Hak? Of all the people in the castle, Hwan had to choose the one person she got along the least with?

Hak notices her aggravated stare and sticks his tongue out at her.

Aeri is quite positively fuming.

The castle is always so cold after sundown. Lights line every inch of the hallways, but the chill permeates them regardless, chasing her no matter how far within it she escapes, no matter how far behind she leaves the reminders of what lies outside and the thin veneer separating her from it all.

The walls seem to grow more imposing with each of her visits beyond them. Idle chatter is poison on her ears, her mind frozen in the happenings beyond the familiar grounds.

Were the stairs leading up to the gates always so tall, so far? Was the castle that seemed to be made of warmth and love and jubilee always so isolated, so different?

Why does her home not feel like it is?

"Aeri!" Yona's voice is one she would recognise anywhere, but it feels distant. Cold. A haze has settled in her mind and it refuses to release her. "Aeri, there you are!"

Yona's vibrant red hair fills her vision, violet eyes following. This is familiar. Yona is kind and happy and loving and she should be, too. "Did the maids set you on me?" she says, her voice an indignant huff. The fog lifts, flinching away from the sound of her own voice, the same taunting lilt it's always been. Quiet, calm. Unruffled, without a care in the world. This is her. "They're so oppressive! I just went for a walk!" Maybe also a bit dramatic.

"You disappear for hours every time you say that."

"They're nice walks!"

Yona giggles and falls into step beside her. She hums lightly, fiddling with her hair and a spring in her step, already launching into eager conversation. (Aeri has been distant lately, the same way Hak was when he was first named Mun-dok's successor. Weighed down by a sense of duty. To what? Yona thinks. Why won't you talk to me? But then Aeri smiles like it's any other day and she can't bring herself to ask.)

"Hak isn't with you?" Aeri asks, as if just noticing. It's true - there's no one around but the two of them.

Yona pouts in response. "Does that have to be with me wherever I go?" she complains. "I just want some quality time with my sister!"

Aeri counts that as a victory.

"You two fought again? Already a married old couple, I see, dear sister."

Yona sputters in disbelief and Aeri allows herself to laugh. Yona is nice. She would never lie to her wilfully (not like Hak and Sun-hui and Sang-chul-) and she is always glad to see her happy.

It's nice.

There is warmth within the castle when Yona is around and Aeri relaxes. Hwan exists only in the back of her mind, but the flowers by the path that hadn't been there months ago speak a different story, and the scar on her shoulder always returns to her with a vengeance. But, when she closes her eyes now, all she knows is the whistling breeze and Yona's laugh, and she is home.

Um. Maybe I went a bit overboard with editing this chapter. It started out with 1.3k words, now it's 2k? Oops.