For the next weeks that follow, I am no longer my old self.
Little by little, I make progress, slowly, but surely. I empty my mind, forget myself, every morning, every evening. I lose myself. No longer the weak little princess, always running away.
She's still there, somewhere. For now, I am keeping her locked away. Someday, I will find her again.
It is way easier than I thought it is going to be. It is way easier to be like this. I am now no longer fighting the current, I am now one of the many fish in the ocean. A shark is lurking nearby, but I ignore it and go about my business: to live.
Until I get home.
I stop crying as well. I am wiser now: wise as a witch. I will cry only if it will benefit me. If not, then I will keep my tears at bay, collect them in a bottle, save them for later. They make an excellent weapon.
Just like how I used them two weeks ago, when he tried to corner me.
"You're no longer trying to resist me," he said.
My eyes met his. We are sitting beside each other, on the edge of the bed. He'd said he wanted to talk to me.
"What are you up to, Yona?"
He eyed me as a predator would to his prey.
I can never outsmart him. I can never outrun him. He will always be wiser, always faster. But it doesn't mean I will just watch and wait. I can set a trap to slow him down, a snare, cripple him for a moment, while I run as fast as I can.
"I'm tired, Suwon," I said. "I'm so tired of fighting." I tried to sound as sincere as possible.
In reality, I am tired. So tired of fighting. But it doesn't mean I stopped fighting all the same.
He tilted his head, watched me like a hawk. Studied my face, looked for any hint of deception. I kept my ground, feet firmly planted on the ground. I told myself that I will not waver again.
In my head, I am seeing him as the old Suwon I knew. The one whom I loved. So it would be easier. In that moment, he is still alive, there before me. I saw him. Smiling.
Then it's time to use a weapon. I gathered my tears, let them fall.
His eyes softened instantly. He leaned forward, pressed his lips on my forehead, ran his fingers along my cheeks. He always does that, when I'm crying.
That's one of his weak points.
I stared at my hands, laying on my lap. They ceased shaking a long time ago. What power do they hold now? I placed them next to his chest, curled them. I could use them to push him away, or I could use them to draw him closer.
I chose the latter.
I rest my hands on his shoulders. Shifting closer, I kissed his neck, his cheek. They're warm. Using his shoulders for support, I lifted my feet from the ground, straddled him. He tensed. I started to plant light kisses, along his jawline, each skin I could access. His breathing turned rapid.
It's scary how much power I held that moment. Wise as a witch, I am fighting a serpent, a cunning one. Before he gets hold of my heels I will trample his head.
His hands began moving, running his fingers along my back, along my side, along every curve.
When I gazed at his face, he was looking at me with lust, and desire. He wasted no time. In the blink of an eye, his lips were pressed tight against mine. He was moving so wildly, like a thirsty being, like a hungry wolf. His hands were everywhere.
He stood all of a sudden, lips never leaving mine. I wrapped my arms around him, buried my fingers into the richness of his golden hair. He lowered me, and I felt the mattress hit my back.
I gave myself to him, for the second time. It was not as passionate as the first. During the first time, I was making love with the man I love. The second time, I was merely taking my pleasure; he was greedy.
Once lit, the flame grows stronger, and become more ravenous, engulfing more.
He came to me again the next night, whispered how much he loved me, worshipped my body and soul. I did not resist. And the next nights. And tonight.
Tonight he is gentle, just like the first time.
I know what I'm doing. I am giving myself to him so that I may gain his trust. If you do not give, you will not receive. Besides, what does it matter? I am tainted anyway. A withered flower. He already took everything from me.
But sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. I question myself. Why am I doing this? Why am I going this far? To live? To laugh? To love? Am I going in the right track? But then when I look at the lamp on the table, burning quietly, I see myself. And I am not lost.
I lie on my side, staring blankly at the white walls, naked as the earth. My arms are folded across my chest. His arm is around me, tracing patterns across my skin. He kisses my shoulder, and I shiver when his hot breath brushes my still sensitive skin.
"I love you," he says. "Thank you, Yona."
This could've been a very sweet moment, if he really meant those words. Because if he really loves me, he will let me go.
Two months, I've been here for two months now. I want to ask him how long he's going to lock me in here, but I dismiss the thought. I have to be careful. One wrong move and all my efforts are gone to waste.
He takes one of my hands, intertwines his fingers with mine. "Do you remember?" he says. "When we were younger, I used to hold your hands until we fall asleep. Just like this."
Oh that? That seems like a long time ago. Yes, a distant memory.
When we were younger, that was our own little secret. It'd be really embarrassing if people were to discover that we sleep holding each other's hands. But now that I think about it, I think we just told that secret to someone else. Someone who's close to us, someone...
Hak.
I wonder where he is right now. Is he looking for me? I dream about him sometimes. Of that door bursting open, of him coming to rescue me. Of me running into his arms, into safety. But then it's just a dream.
I wonder if he's been deceived by Suwon. Perhaps. Perhaps he's become Suwon's bodyguard. The king's. But I doubt that. He hated being my bodyguard. It took a long negotiation before my father finally convinced him.
Or he went back to Fuuga. He didn't like the castle very much.
I wonder if he thinks I'm dead.
I wonder if they think I'm dead. The people, did I ever cross their minds? How did Suwon convince the people about my father's death? About their missing princess? Did they ever question him?
Suwon moves closer, nuzzles my shoulder. "Hmm, you're not listening, are you?" He's acting the lover now.
"Sorry I almost dozed off," I lie. "Were you saying something?"
I really want the truth now. So badly. I will trade anything, everything I have. To know what happened to the whole castle, to know what's happening outside.
"Nevermind," he says, letting go of my hand. His tone has gone cold. He knows I'm lying.
But he's not the only one who's acting the lover now. I do too. Turning to face him, I plant a sweet lingering kiss on his chest, just above his heart. He shudders. That's also one of his weak points - whenever I act like a lover would.
"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention," I say, gazing up at him.
That does the trick. He hums, then actually smiles. A genuine one. The one he used to show many years ago, before his father died.
"It's all right," he says, rubbing his nose with mine. "Forget it. It's not that important anyway."
Morning arrives hours later. When I awake, the other side of the bed is cold. He's gone. There is breakfast waiting on the table. And a folded parchment. Inside is Suwon's handwriting, saying he needs to leave the castle and will not be back until tomorrow.
I feel like a gentle breeze just passed by. Tonight, if only for a little while, I can finally be myself again.
As soon as I'm done eating I knock at the door, give my orders. On the other side of the door, servants are waiting. "I would like to take a bath," I say.
On the far corner of this room there is a door which opens to a small space, a place where I can bathe myself. There is a tub there, which they fill with warm water.
I wait as they enter, court ladies carrying a new set of robes, crimson and pink. The others carry my bathing needs. They are the same faces, ever since I came here. I wonder how much he pays them to stay quiet.
Sometimes when I watch them enter the room I try to catch a glimpse of the world outside that door. But all I could see is a cold stone wall, no sunlight.
They help me to the tub, wash my whole body. Then they dry my hair, my skin, put on a new set of clothes.
They are not allowed to talk to me, unless I ask them a question. Once I asked them what's the weather like outside. That was a month ago, I think.
There was this one girl who looked at me, smiled, told me it's raining outside. She was shy, and young. Brown hair, brown eyes. The next day, I asked her again, and for the next days that followed. I befriended her, while the others remained aloof.
Then one day, when we were left alone, I moved my lips close to her ear, whispered. "Help me. If you see Hak, or anyone who you could trust, please tell them I'm here." For a while she stayed frozen, then nodded. I sighed in relief.
It was a gamble. But I had to.
The next day she didn't show up. I asked the others where she went. They said they didn't know. The next day though, when I asked them again, they said she was hanged to death, for stealing.
I did not eat for the whole day.
The ones left became even more distant after that. Even when I ask them a question, they'll only nod their heads, utter a word or two. I don't blame them.
After they leave I lie on the bed, stare at the ceiling for hours. There is a pile of books waiting for me but I am in no mood to read right now.
I lie still and wait for nothing. How ironic is it that boredom doesn't affect me now, even if I do nothing but stare at the ceiling. In the ceiling, I see many things. The shadows of yesterday, they dance through my eyes.
I think about her sometimes, the girl who tried to help me. I still blame myself until now. I know very well that she wasn't stealing. She was silenced.
Besides, the punishment for stealing should only be a beating. To be hanged to death meant you were a traitor.
Or has he changed the law? That stealing is now punishable by death? Because he can, because he is the king now?
This time, I let my tears flow again. Here I don't use them as weapon. I use them as a reminder.
Night comes as a swift howling wind. They come to retrieve the trays. The meals lie on the table untouched. I lost my appetite after breakfast. Then they are leaving, as quickly as they came.