Fear. It's normal for anyone to feel fear, to have their heart jump to their throat and their breaths come out ragged. It's what makes us human, what makes us normal. She felt fear just as everyone else did, she had her moments where she thought she wouldn't survive another day, where she thought she'd be stuck in the moment for the rest of eternity.
She hated being afraid. She never thought she had to be when high walls of stone protected her home, and tall, strong people guarded her family, yet it still happened. She still felt fear, and she still felt suffocated.
She came from a long line of royalty, that line of blood dating back hundreds of years, and never once has the ruling king, or the ruling queen, made it above the age of fifty, for something always happened. Someone always attacked.
She didn't want to live a life as short as that, she wished to grow old and become wise, giving advice to those younger than her during the end of her days. She didn't want to live in fear, either. Every day she wondered if it would be her father, the king, final day. If it would be hers, too. It was not unheard of for enemies to murder, or steal and sell, the princess of the king they targeted. It's happened before, to many kings and to many of the royalty in her family, from hundreds of years ago.
She honestly kind of hoped her family line would end, so that they no longer had to live in this curse of death. She wouldn't be surprised if an angry witch had placed it upon them, in spite of their old laws of burning their kind if we suspected someone to be of it. That law no longer lived, and many witches and wizards wandered the kingdom with magic and beauty. In fact, if it hadn't been for her father, King Seungcheol, witches and wizards would not be able to live in peace with the rest of the population, for he had removed that law and enforced safety to the magic folk.
How much did it take for just one of those magic folk to lift the suspected curse and save her family? A lot more, it seemed.
"You're not listening." She hears Seungcheol grumble, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddles with his rings. Her head snaps to face him, a sheepish smile gracing her lips as she stares at her sulking father, "I'm convinced you lack the capacity to concentrate, at this point," He tuts, his eyes squinting in mock anger, his eyebrow-raising as he stares at her. The pair sits in the throne room as people line up left and right to report things to her father and the royal guard. These days are her least favorite days because they are the days when the risks skyrocket. No one knows if someone will come today to attack her father, to end his life.
So no, she had not been concentrating, but it was because she was overthinking and worrying about the safety of herself and her father's safety. "I am concentrating," she reprimands quietly, sitting up straighter and lifting her head when Seungcheol gently smacks her knee. He turns back to the crowd, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Now you're just lying," he stifles gently, folding his hands on his lap. She follows suit, clearing her throat and pointedly ignoring him. A man enters from the door, and her eyes cut to watch the new person walk into the hall. He's giant, with long scruffy hair and old, raggy clothes. His skin is marked and dirty, and there's a sword installed around his waist.
And that feeling comes back. The fear, the anxiety, the nerves that she hates so much. Any suspicious person that enters is an easy threat to her. Hates it. Hate, hate, hate.
She tenses up and watches him near. There's an angry glint in his eye as he gets closer, and she can't stop her heart from jumping to her throat as her fists ball in her lap. The guards around them spot her change in nature and stand up straighter, keeping an eye on the new man who entered through the door, too.
He gets closer to the staircase leading to their thrones when she's about to move to stand up, but a hand that comes from the left of her, where a specific other person usually stands, lands on her shoulder and squeezes it gently. Her stormy gaze finds his clear one, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head, "He's not a threat, princess," he reassures, nodding his head towards the man.
She turns back to where the man had been and finds him laughing along with a group of women closest to the throne, his eyes shining and his smile genuine. She slumps into her throne, bringing a hand to drag down her face as she lets out a short puff of breath, "Right, yeah," she grumbles, gently swatting Seokmin's hand off of her shoulder.
Her guard, Seokmin, has been around her since she turned eighteen. He was just two years older than her, with a sharp nose and a blinding smile. He had been quiet at first, shyly opening doors and blushing at any conversation she tried to hold with him, but with the five years that came after he swore to protect her, came a confident, daring, and even teasing man. The pair had grown close and had a softness for each other that others envied. For what came after trust was something many never found, and what they never had to seek.
"You need to have trust in our people, sweetheart," Seungcheol quietly scolded his daughter, a hand coming to pat and squeeze her shoulder before turning back to the people and greeting them with a loud, charming voice.
She couldn't help but scoff at her father, for the many kings and queens before him had trusted their people, and their fate had been what his might be if someone wasn't as wary and as sharp as she was.
One day someone would walk through these doors, or into the east wing where their chambers are located, or into the flower fields, or literally anywhere her father went, and have the intent to kill. When that day came, she would not allow the shock to weaken her, to distract her. She'd defend and protect her father, even if it meant her own life was at stake.
Trust be damned.
She sits there and listens to the people of Caratlandia, a form of learning how to help the people when it's her turn to rule through her father as he speaks and reassures their concerns or tells the scribe to take note of it to look into later. It happened once every four weeks, the doors opening for any of the people to come in, and she hated it more and more the closer her father had grown to fifty.
It's a few hours later when she's aimlessly walking down the corridor, Seokmin in tow, trying to pass the time. It could get quite boring, living in a castle so big that you don't know what to do in all your space. Flowers from the courtyard down below are in bloom, painting a beautiful picture for eyes to see, blossoms on the trees brightening that picture among the green grass and stone paths.
She wanted to paint it, to bring it to life on a blank canvas because at least then she'd be able to excite her adventurous heart and calm it down from the aching need for escape. "It's beautiful," she comments gently with an aching heart, looking back at Seokmin who walks with his arms crossed in front of him, "The world out there must be gorgeous."
"You think anything's beautiful," Seokmin says with an amused huff, his gaze cutting to look down at the scene, too. "But you aren't wrong about this, I love spring," he adds, picking up his pace so he can stride alongside his princess. She hums, looking back in front of her and ignoring her spiking heart when their hands brush.
That was another thing she found a problem, her undeniable feelings for the knight that always kept her company. She knew he might have many women, or men - who is she to assume his preference, so she made it her mission to get over him, but every time he surfaced, her feelings did too.
"You're disheartened these days, Princess," Seokmin comments with a curious tone, his eyes catching hers with an intense gaze. "Do you worry for his majesty?" He asks her, his head tilting slightly as his brows furrow. She stares at him for a moment before turning her head to face in front of her once again.
"I always worry about him, Min," she admits, biting her lips. A gentle breeze hits the two as birds sing softly around them. Her heart gives her a bigger ache. She wants to run and never stop. Be on the biggest fields or the tallest mountains. In the coolest streams of rivers. She wants to find one of the many dragons that wander their earth, hiding in caves and clouds. "He gets closer to fate every year."
Seokmin watches, and he usually does; his eyes follow her every movement to understand how she might be feeling, if she's more anxious today, or sadder today, or needs a meal to fill her stomach. She has a habit of pushing away food when her feelings grow too strong when she gets stuck in her head. She knows he watches, and sometimes she, too, observes him. They have been looking after one another for a long time now.
Her heart aches, knowing one day she might leave without him. Might make an escape when he isn't watching, when he is back in the midst of the kingdom living his other life, living in the freedom of the commoners. "Maybe it'll be different for him," he tries to ease her, "He might live past the age of doom." She swallows, emotion bubbling in her stomach as she shakes her head.
"They never do; it always happens," she retorts, spotting an open door further down the hall. Curiosity spikes her, but she keeps her strolling pace. Seokmin sighs, biting his lip.
"He's a good man, Princess," he fights again, stepping closer to her and wrapping his hand around her elbow to stop her movements. She looks up at him, and he looks back down at her. "No spell can deny that; he's the best King we've had in centuries." A part of her adores him, for he's gentle and never wants her to worry. He wants to take all of her stress and let her live a happy and relaxed life. The other part of her wishes he'd be smarter than that, realize that no matter how privileged you are, you'll always have worries and responsibilities of your own.
"Being a good person tends to bring out the jealousy and hatred in bad people," she pushes further, tugging her arm out of his grip and turning back to walk again. "If anything, his chances of escaping the foretold death, of every ruler in this castle, are much smaller. He might as well be dead already."
"You're beyond pessimistic," he chides lightly, poking her torso with his finger. "You're like a great, dark ball of dread." She sends him a half-hearted glare before breaking out into a smile and stifling a laugh.
"I could say the exact same of you," she tuts, raising an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a giant, shining ball that rolls around telling people how great their future will be, no matter what path they take." He scoffs at her, his grin reaching his eyes as he tries to grab hold of her.
"I'd love to let you know that I kill many bad people for you, milady," he mocks loudly, making her burst into laughter. "How dare you call me a giant, shiny ball." She hits his arm when it wraps around her, making him gently let her go and take a step back.
"My apologies," she sighs, smiling a small smile. "Let me correct myself, a giant, shining ball of death that rolls around telling people how great their fu-"
"I take mighty offense with these accusations!" He laughs, his head falling back as they reach the door. Her smile doesn't cease as she pauses, looking into the open door curiously. That smile fades when she spots her father, the Duke of the kingdom, and the head of the royal guard and knights sitting tensely around a table as their loud voices boom against the wall.
"They want to attack, your majesty! They have no plans of settling for peace," the duke speaks loudly, clenching his jaw. The Duke, Jihoon, has a vision just as a tunnel as hers. She liked how he was logical and continuously reminded the blind of the bad outcomes, but what she was hearing was something she didn't like, for the first time.
"People can have a change of heart," Seungcheol says, laying his hands on the table as he stares the Duke down menacingly. Jihoon shakes his head, a dry laugh finding his lips as he gestures to the parchment on the table.
"Does that change of heart bring the men they murdered in cold fucking blood back, Seungcheol? When will you get out of your head with your fantasies of peace and love? We'll fall before we find that answer. We need to retaliate." The head of the guard and knights slams a fist down as Jihoon speaks, standing up and pointing a finger at the Duke.
"Remember who you're speaking to, Jihoon," he growls. Her heart races as Seokmin panics beside her. She wasn't meant to hear this, she knows that, but she couldn't stop listening. Jihoon raises an eyebrow at the taller man, crossing his arms.
"Why don't you be silent and figure out what you'll do about the shortage of your arms of Knights instead, Soonyoung? Have you told the families yet?" Jihoon's words make Soonyoung pause, his jaw clenching as he sits back down reluctantly. He turns back to Seungcheol, "And how will you explain to the Princess that they mean to kill you?"
Seungcheol takes a deep breath, his hands finding his face as he shakes his head, "I won't. She isn't going to find out. She's just like her mother was, headstrong and irrational. She'll want to find a solution and get herself killed-" It's the last she hears before Seokmin gently takes hold of her hand and tugs her away, his eyes not meeting hers as she tries to protest, tugging her hand as much as she could.
They mean to kill the king. Who are they? When did this start? How many Knights' lives were taken, and when did it happen? Why hasn't her father told her? He thinks she's irrational; he thinks she'll get herself killed. She can say, without a doubt, that her feelings have been hurt.
"You shouldn't have heard that," Seokmin sighs when they eventually find themselves at the east wing, letting go of her hand.
"Did you know?" She asks him, her tone icy and her gaze distant as she looks at the floor. Seokmin's heart soars, and he's quick to bring his hands out to grab her shoulders.
"No! I only knew of the attack on the Knights, I had no idea it ran deeper than that," he rushes out, his eyes wide as he stares down at her. She stares at him with a hard expression, searching for any dishonesty that might grace his features. Seokmin holds her eye contact, squeezing her shoulders. "I swear it, Princess," he pushes, frowning deeply.
She relents, shrugging off his hands and making her way to her chamber doors. "I need to be left alone. Go home," she comments behind her as she opens the door before slamming it shut behind her. She could cry about how unfair things were, she could kick, scream, and yell at her father about how he should have told her, about how she shouldn't have had to find out the way she did. But if she went about it that way, she wouldn't get things done, and she definitely wouldn't help save her father's life.
She spent long hours sitting around her room and thinking of what she could do, how she could go about it, and have this finished with her father alive and healthy. She paced, and she lay on her bed, and she cleared, made a mess, and then cleaned again. But only one idea stuck with her. Yes, it may be risky, and it could easily get her life taken away from her, but it was her only chance.
Many days away, over mountains and through swamps lives a mighty wizard who goes by the name Yoonzino. His family is known to hate hers, they have for centuries because of the law that once ruled. If she could find him and ask if they were the cause of it, if he could lift it, maybe Seungcheol wouldn't die. Her time to find a resort was limited, but she'd work hard to find it. She'd work the hardest she's ever worked in her life if it meant her father could live the long life he deserved.
It was quickly decided that she would do it, and she spent the next few days gathering the things she would need. If she were to do it, it would have to be done secretly, so collecting sustainable food and water from the kitchens, going beyond the kingdom walls without any guards, and in a hidden disguise so the people wouldn't know, to buy clothes she could actually travel in took her time.
She'd never had pants before; do you know how exciting it was to find women's clothing that had pockets?! She'd need to get more when she was back from her journey. What an amazing discovery.
She had to find shoes she could wear comfortably on her long trip to Yoonzino, too. Rope, a huge bag, and equipment to help her climb those mountains. It took a while since she could only afford to bring in a few things at a time so no one would notice.
By the time she had everything she needed packed secretly in her room's closet, in a small hatch in the floor she'd discovered at the age of twelve, a week had passed. Her heart raced at the idea of finally leaving, in both excitement and anxiety. So much could go wrong in just a few minutes, but she'd have to do it.
An opportunity opened a few days after when the annual ball arose to go into action that evening. The people would be on the other side of the kingdom's castle, dancing the night away as the princess feigned an illness in her room. The guards would be all around the King, since it was a risky time to allow people into the castle so easily, and only a few would be stationed at her door. She had it all planned out, and the only thing she had to do now was actually get out and far enough away that she wouldn't be caught and brought back.
She sat in her bed as the royal doctor, Joshua, checked her. Faking an illness was easy, especially if it was a stomach ache and nausea. "Have you vomited today at all, Princess?" Joshua asked her, his hand coming to feel her forehead. She let out a tired sigh, laying her head back and closing her eyes. It seemed she'd found a new talent.
"A few times, it's been going on all day. I can barely stomach my food," she told him as she breathed deeply. Joshua hummed in thought, moving his hand to her stomach and pressing on it lightly. His gaze moved to hers just as she forced a wince to find her face. He hummed again, stood up, and nodded his head.
"It's just a stomach bug," he commented with a light shrug, sending her a reassuring smile. She nodded her head and heaved a relieved sigh. "It should pass in a day or two. I'll get Minghao to brew you a tea with pain relief and bring it to you." He quickly packed his small bag and threw it over his shoulder.
"Thank you, Joshua. You're a lifesaver," she said quietly, a small smile finding her lips. He sent back his own smirk, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at her.
"Get some rest, and you'll feel better," he said before putting a big bowl next to her bed and leaving her bedroom chambers. As soon as the door closed, she quietly cheered, a small giggle of excitement bouncing off the walls of the room. She did it; she managed to convince everyone she was ill. Everything was set into place, and now it was just a matter of timing.
The door opened, and she quickly sagged into her bed as Seokmin popped his head in with a concerned frown. He examined her as he walked in further, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" he asked her, worrying his lip between his teeth. She nodded weakly, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes as she rolled onto her side to curl around herself.
"I'll be okay, I just feel disgusting," she said to him, squeezing her eyes closed. He nodded his head, twiddling with his fingers. She couldn't help but think of him as adorable. He was a tall man with muscles lining every inch of his body, in heavy steel armor, but here he was in her room, twiddling his fingers with a pout on his lips.
"I hope you recover quickly, Princess. It's no fun having no company around the castle when I make my rounds." His words made a pang of guilt find her heart, but the ache of stress for her father was much stronger. She hoped he would forgive her. It had to be done; she needed to save his life.
"I'm sure I will, Min," she told him quietly, her own brows frowning. "You should go, though. I'm sure my bug might be contagious, and I don't want my Knight in shining armor getting sick." She lied through her teeth. It was too easy, being this deceiving, especially to him. It made her feel guilty. He sighed, looking around the room and nodding his head.
"You're right, I can't get sick when I need to keep you safe," his eyes found hers, his gaze sharp and calculating before he glanced at her door. Their eyes met once more before he smiled softly and went to make an exit. "Call me if you need me, okay? I'll be right in," he told her before opening the door and leaving.
'Weirdly enough,' she thought, 'leaving him behind has been the hardest part of all of this.'
Minghao brought her the brewed tea, sending her a look that made her think he might be a mind reader and knew her plans of escape. He told her to drink it up and rest early so she might recover quickly, and she responded by telling him she would, that she wanted to feel better so he could keep teaching her how to use charcoal to create beautiful drawings.
Minghao chuckles softly before leaving her be, sending her one more pointed look before closing the door behind her.
She can hear when the ball begins, music just barely reaching her ears, and she waits. She waits because she doesn't want to do it too soon; she doesn't want to be caught. She gets up from her bed and changes into the brown traveling pants, the white, long puff-sleeved shirt, and her lace-up boots before throwing the gown she had been wearing over it and getting back into the bed.
She waits for more than an hour for the ball to settle down before she finally deems it time. She gets out of bed, throws the gown off, and makes her way into her closet. Her heart races as she pulls back the part of the floor that opens and pulls her bag out. She'd run for a bit before slowing down to a walk; it would get her away faster.
She goes back into her chambers, and quickly ties her hair back and out of her face before snapping her gaze to one of the many windows. It was dark outside, and she could feel that the air was cool just from where she stood. It howled at her menacingly as she took a deep breath.
For her father. For the people's King. She needed to save him.
The window opens easily, and she gasps to herself quietly as the breeze hits her, strong and cold. Just one look down would remind her how far up the room chambers were, so she wills herself to keep her gaze up as she pulls her bag up with a grunt. She carefully places it outside, along the wide windowsill. It was her turn now.
She grips the sides of the windows, frowning in determination before she pulls herself up and throws a leg out onto the ledge, "Okay," she chants to herself, "Easy does it." She ignores the pit in her stomach as she pulls herself through, her other foot landing next to her other one. Her body shivers almost immediately.
A few deep breaths later she's moving toward her bag and pulling it up. The ledge moves off to the right for a while, before connecting with a lower tower. If she made it there, she would get onto it and be able to reach the ledge connecting to that one, and so forth.
She moves slowly along the walls, her large and heavy bag weighing her down as the winds hit her. Her breath is in her ears, and her heart is pounding in her throat. Once she reaches the tower, she places her bag down with a grunt before moving to get down and onto it. The tower's roof is round and pointed, so she places her feet on it carefully and still clutches onto the wall ledge as she pulls her bag with her.
Once that is done, there are a few minutes where she slowly shuffles her way around the tower, as well as slides down it. Her hands clutch the roof tiles in front of her with a knuckle-white grip, one of them leaving to pull the bag along with her with every inch she moves.
She begins to sweat after she gets around to the second ledge, throwing her bag onto it blindly before stepping after it. Then a gust of strong wind hits her. She feels herself lose her sense of balance and cries out as she starts falling back. Her foot knocks her bag as this happens, and she watches in fear as it goes tumbling down the castle, landing with a thud on the ground. She finds her step quickly and lets out a curse as she kneels down and catches her breath, "Well, that's one way to get down," she whispers to herself, closing her eyes.
It continues like that. She moves along a ledge, and then down a tower's roof, along a ledge, down a roof, ledge, roof, ledge, roof, ledge, roof, ledge, until she finally gets close to the ground. She sends a prayer to any gods above before shutting her eyes and jumping off the rest of the distance.
She lets out a soft oomph as she lands, willing herself not to groan as she rolls onto her back. Her breaths are ragged, and she's sweating in places she didn't even know were able to produce sweat. As terrifying as that near-fall had been, closer to the top, she had to admit it was exhilarating. It was the first taste of adventure she ever got, and even if she hadn't enjoyed it during the process, she was grinning like a fool now.
She doesn't let herself rest, instead getting up and quickly moving toward the bag that was a few lengths away from her. She hoped nothing of importance had broken, but right now she needed to get out of here before someone noticed she was gone. She had taken the first step, now she just needed to run.
She bucks it, not glancing back at the giant castle once as she does. Instead of moving toward the main gate of the castle, she runs toward the place she and Seokmin had found a few years ago, one night, when they wanted to sneak out to watch the bars down below, drinking their own rum and laughing as drunken idiots, moved along the streets.
It was a bittersweet memory, and her heart broke a little as she thought about how she would be breaking the guard's trust in a way.
Her legs begin to ache as she runs, going through the fields of flowers and the hills of grass, but she doesn't stop. Not for a moment. Her bag is hoisted onto her back, and it's heavy, which makes the ache in her legs worse, but still, she pushes. When she finds the gap, she goes through. The growth of the plants around the castle is thick, but she ignores the scrapes of the branches and smacks through them, ignoring the sting on her skin from the thorns as she frowns in determination. She had gotten this far; she wouldn't quit now.
She picks up her speed once the growth of plants begins to thin, dodging bushes and trees easily. It was dark, only the bare outlines of those things reaching her eyes, but her clothing was doing her justice, making it easier to move and breathe as her lungs and body burned. Then her foot hooks on a root, and she goes flying. She lands with a groan, clenching her jaw in annoyance, "I really need to work on my ability to not fall on my ass every ten minutes." She speaks out into the dark as she picks herself up.
It was a work in progress, but she'd get there.
"You also need to work on how to run away quietly," someone hisses from behind her. Her head snaps back, and her face cringes when she sees him. His arms crossed, his expression furious, and his foot tapping. His teeth bared and his frown was deep; an expression she rarely spots on the other's face, "Princess."
Seokmin had followed her.