Chapter Text
Spring. Cobbled stones covered in cherry blossom, the chirping of hungry chicks in the air, crisp mornings melting away into cool afternoons. The sky a more beautiful shade of blue. Enchanting, some would say, as the flowers bloomed once more. A watercolour picture painted with the tiniest, most intricate details. Memories of her mother flooded her mind. She used to say:
‘Gaea has awoken, the world has been born again’.
Nayeon often thought of her words as she strolled through the palace gardens, flowers blooming and grass much greener than yesterday. Sometimes picturing the two of them chasing one another through the Ivy Maze. Sometimes thinking of the quiet evenings spent in the Pavillion practising the waltz with her. Most of the time thinking about the last spring they spent together. The serenity of seeing snow melt away, revealing pinks and blues and greens and purples, cuddled up in her parent’s chamber and watching the world come to life in her mother’s final days.
For the past few years, she hadn’t been able to indulge herself in the bittersweet memories of springs long passed. Instead, the cherry blossoms and chicks and crisp mornings were just another sign of another day passing. Training and learning how to be a proper princess and, in turn, how to be a proper queen. Since the passing of her mother, the King had become far stricter. Not letting Nayeon have a break from her lessons, filling her days with etiquette, archery, horse-riding, ballet and ballroom dancing, maths, Korean, art, geography, history, science, piano, violin, singing, more etiquette, sword fighting, how to lead an army into battle, and even how to play chess - just in case.
However, sometimes Nayeon slipped away from her endless routine and into the palace gardens when the moon was high in the sky, behind her mother’s oak tree and towards the stream that ran through the woodlands just south of the palace. There, she would meet the one person who had no expectations for her and she could be free. Yoo Jeongyeon: Duchess of Suwon, Nayeon’s best friend and the love of her life - not that she knew it yet.
“Where have you been?” she shrieked, throwing a handful of berries towards the princess. “I’ve been here for half an hour and I’m practically frozen!”
Nayeon could only laugh at the girl sitting up in a tree in her nightgown.
“You best answer me, Im Nayeon, otherwise I am leaving and you can enjoy the food I prepared on your own.”
Her supposed anger was ruined by the giggle that kept escaping her lips; Jeongyeon could never stay mad at Nayeon for long. Even when they were younger, the former was not one to hold grudges and when Nayeon made a mistake, she would laugh it off and open up her arms for a hug (which Nayeon accepted graciously).
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Nayeon shrieked as she was attacked by another handful of berries courtesy of the girl in the tree. “Just as I was fetching some cakes for us, Madam Choi came into the kitchen and asked me what I was doing, stealing food so late at night, and I panicked. So, if she says anything tomorrow, I couldn’t sleep and decided to go on a stroll around the Ivy Maze with enough cake to feed a family of four.”
At that, Jeongyeon jumped down from her comfortable perch in the tree and bound into Nayeon’s arms, almost knocking the basket of cake out of her hands and tumbling onto the woodland floor. Practically screaming when she said:
“You didn’t! Oh, Nayeon, you angel!”
Chocolate coloured locks invaded her vision as Jeongyeon clung to her, strong arms around Nayeon’s delicate frame. A hand resting on the small of her back that made her heartbeat ever so much faster. In moments like this, Nayeon let herself believe that they could be. That maybe when Nayeon became queen, Jeongyeon would sit beside her in a throne of her own. A tiara perched upon her head and the title of ‘Princess’ adorning her name. They could adopt a child, or a few children, and raise them to be the most loving and generous monarchs Seoul had ever seen. Never lecturing them about their legacy or what is expected of them. Raising them to never look down on those who don’t love in the ways people usually do and to never silence those different to them.
But Nayeon could only dream.
Her father would never allow it. He wanted to meet his biological grandchildren, to have Nayeon rule with a prince by her side, to live a life free of sin.
So, in those moments where Jeongyeon held her like she never planned on letting go, Nayeon indulged herself in her fantasies because that’s all they were allowed to be.
“Come on,” Jeongyeon announced, almost hesitant. “I brought those rice cakes you love so much.”
And in the light of the silvery moon, the two girls shared rice cakes and stories as the world passed by. Together, the cruelness and reality of life didn’t exist and if Nayeon moved a little bit closer to cuddle up beside the duchess, no one was there to judge. No one had to know.
When Nayeon awoke the next day, smothered in white sheets and knee-deep in love, all she could think of was the way Jeongyeon looked in the moonlight. The sparkle of her eyes as she laughed put the stars to shame. Nayeon traced the constellations of freckles adorning smooth, honey skin with her eyes, longing to reach out and feel it beneath her fingertips. It was so easy with her. Loving Jeongyeon was slowly dipping your toes into the water and realising it’s just the right temperature, so you ease yourself in rather than quickly jumping in with the hopes of warming up quicker. Loving Jeongyeon was running barefoot in a field as the sun shines bright and you realise just how alive you are. Loving Jeongyeon was li-
“Nayeon-unnie? It’s time to get up.” Chaeyoung’s voice sing-songed from behind the door.
Huffing, she replied with a quick “just a second, Chae.”
So much for dreaming, huh?
And so her day began, rushed out of bed and into her gown for the day - no tiara as she just has her lessons within the palace. Her corset was pulled tight and hair is taken out of its rollers so it falls gracefully over exposed shoulders. Despite how much she despised her gowns, she had always had a soft spot for the baby blue lace that decorated her skin. It reminded her of the dresses her mother once wore.
Then it was breakfast, porridge imported from relations in Scotland and a selection of fruit from South America. Her usual. She’d always quite enjoyed breakfast in the palace. Eating in the kitchen rather than the formal dining hall, surrounded by the chefs and maids and servants and Madam Choi who would kiss her cheek and wish her a good day. Chaeyoung stuffed her face with exotic fruits beside her, getting Nayeon up to date on the latest gossip within the palace. Apparently, Yeonjun and Soobin, two of the new guards, had been caught kissing in a broom closet, and Yerim - one of Chaeyoung’s fellow maids - had overheard news that there were two princes on their way to Seoul for business with the King. The first news was believable, Nayeon had seen their longing stares with her own two eyes. The second lot of news was...less believable. Her father never invited other kingdom’s to Seoul without telling Nayeon first, especially for business matters. Perhaps it was in regards to the battle brewing in the North.
After breakfast was history, learning all about her family and what they had done for Seoul and then, finally, Jeongyeon showed up in time for her archery lesson.
She often joined Nayeon in lessons where her attention was less needed, which they had learnt the hard way. She often gets distracted whenever Jeongyeon laughs or smiles or looks a little bit sad or speaks or...you get the picture. She’d been in her sword fighting lesson when Jeongyeon made a joke about her terrible technique and Nayeon had - accidentally - caught her teacher and sliced his arm open. Since that day, she practised with a blunt sword and Jeongyeon could only join her when she couldn’t send someone to the infirmary. Archery was one of these as the arrows were blunt and the target was a soft, easily breakable fabric. No injuries in sight.
Arrow after arrow flew everywhere but the target, which was laughing at her in its red-faced glory, much like her best friends who were sat on the grass a few feet from her.
“Unnie, you’ll have a better chance of hitting it if you don’t stand like Madam Choi hunched over a pot of soup,” Jeongyeon mocked as Nayeon picked up the scattered arrows, huffing.
“And perhaps I would do a better job if you stopped throwing berries at my head.”
From beside Jeongyeon, a sniggering could be heard, little squeaks coming from one Son Chaeyoung. Despite being Nayeon’s maid, she did not spend much of her time acting like one. She instead liked to join the princess in her classes to sit beside Jeongyeon and make fun of the things Nayeon did wrong together. How she ended up with bullies for best friends, she had no idea.
“Come on, unnie. We’re only messing,” she said before throwing another berry at the princess’ coiffed locks.
Oftentimes, Nayeon would feel sorry for her teachers having to deal with her friend’s antics but each of them had long learnt to put up with the pair’s endless joking from the sidelines, simply ignoring them and carrying on doing whatever it is the king paid them to do. Her archery teacher, Master Park, was more than used to them by now. He only ever chipped in to tell Nayeon when her lessons were over and whether she was doing a good or bad job, which she was grateful for as she had never been particularly interested in archery.
As she was being pelted at with red berries, courtesy of the two girls on the grass, her lesson was interrupted by a, very out-of-breath looking, messenger:
“Your highness? The King would like to speak with you.”
Setting aside her bow and fetching the rest of the stray arrows, Nayeon hummed an affirmative, thanked Master Park for his time and went to help Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung up off of the grassy plain they sat upon when the messenger insisted she came alone. That there was an important matter at hand that needed to be discussed privately.
“You better not be in trouble, I can’t possibly deal with your father banning me from seeing you for a week and forcing me to stay at home with my sisters ,” Jeongyeon complained jokingly, gently punching the princess’ bicep.
“That’s the least of my worries. I’m afraid he’s going to try and send me to Ilsan again to practice princess ‘etiquette’ with my aunt. Dealing with my cousin is far too much to handle right now,” Nayeon sighed, exasperated. “I do love Namjoon but he’s awfully clumsy. He somehow managed to trip over my dress during our ‘ballroom class’ and tear a hole the size of China in my skirt.”
It was Chaeyoung who managed to get her walking to the Throne Room, noticing her procrastination.
“Come on, unnie,” she’d said. “The king might just try that if you don’t show up on time,” and she was right. He likely would.
Bidding the pair goodbye, promising to meet with them in her bed chambers after her conversation with her father, Nayeon followed the mousey looking messenger towards the Throne Room preparing herself for whatever was thrown her way.
“Ah, Nayeon you’re here. Please, join me,” her father said with a smile, gesturing towards the small table just west of where he stood. Upon it, a selection of tea and cakes - freshly baked. Nayeon ought to take Madam Choi out for supper one night after how hard she must be working recently.
Settling herself in the velvet chair, overlooking the palace gardens, Nayeon couldn’t help but notice the steely expression that her father wore. Ever serious, it was not surprising to see but there was a hint of something else hiding in his eyes. They were far more stormy than usual.
“Shall we eat?” he suggested, his voice firm. Almost like a statement rather than a friendly question.
As the pair ate in comfortable silence, Nayeon could hear the cogs in her father’s brain turning. The click-clack noise of thoughts working their way around his mind. The man gazed into the distance, admiring the artwork painted onto the ceiling of the Throne Room. Eyes tracing the patterns of ivy and roses - the Im family symbol. Their family had resided in the Ivory Palace for centuries, the intricate flowers above them showed their legacy, a reminder of who they were and what they had done for the people of Seoul.
Nayeon had been told stories of the kings and queens before her, her grandmothers and grandfathers that had ruled Seoul with great success and dignity. Always reminded that one day, it would all belong to her. When she was younger, on the rare occasions her father tucked her into bed, he would trace her palms as he sang songs of their ancestors. Her favourite being the one about Im Chung-hee:
“In days of old Park Kang-dae,
Seoul never saw the light.
He ruled with an iron fist, they say,
Filled with terror and with fright.
Along came brave Im Chung-hee
Powerful and strong.
He knocked down old Park Kang-dae,
And so he sang this song.
My people, how I love you,
I hope you sing with glee.
The night is finally over,
The light of brave Chung-hee.
My people, how I love you,
I hope you sing with glee.
The night is finally over,
The light of brave Chung-hee.”
It is the only tender memory Nayeon has of her father. He spent much of his time working during her childhood, only seeing him during supper and, by that time, he was exhausted. Only sharing a few words about the war in the North and how he planned to set up a trading deal with Gwangju as they were in desperate need of grain for the winter.
Seeing him now, staring intently at the ivy and roses, Nayeon couldn’t help but feel like their ‘private conversation’ had to do with when she was to become queen.
The piping pot of tea slowly drained away and cake crumbs left remnants of what had once been and finally, the king was ready to discuss whatever had been troubling him for the past half an hour.
“Now, Nayeon, I hope you know that as I get older, you step closer and closer to becoming queen,” he started, “and I asked you here today on a matter I deem absolutely necessary should we want our family crest to be the face of Seoul like it has for the past three centuries.”
His words shot something sharp straight through Nayeon’s chest, now rapidly beating. Palms getting clammy as she fiddled with a stray thread on her gown.
“I wanted to tell you what I have arranged for the next few months.”
“And what would that be, father?” her voice shook ever-so-slightly, faltering. The word ‘arranged’ ringing through her mind like a bell. ‘Arranged’ only ever implied something Nayeon had been trying her best to avoid.
"At the end of August, you are to be married. Over the next four months, you will spend time with two of the most eligible princes South Korea has to offer and, in July, you will choose which of them you want to wed."
How her heart broke in that moment. For her, marriage was sacred. She wanted to be able to choose who she would spend the rest of her life with, not be forced into a marriage with a man whom she didn’t love. Besides, there was someone else she had hoped to court when the time was right. She longed for her , not some prince in hopes of uniting kingdoms and continuing a legacy.
"Father!” the princess cried, eyes teary as a hollow feeling spread through her chest, “we have discussed this. I do not plan on marrying until I am queen. Why now?"
"Because, Nayeon, it is my duty as king to make sure you don't wed the Duchess of Suwon like I know you plan to. I will not have you tarnish the Im family name and the legacy our family has created by committing such sin ." He spat the word out, clearly bitter on his tongue. "You either agree to my proposal or you will be banished from the Kingdom and the duchess will be executed for treason. So what do you choose?"
And despite how she ached to choose what her heart longed for, her legacy was staring her in the eyes. Some sacrifices have to be made to save the people you love.
“So? What was the talk all about?” Chaeyoung queried, shooting up from where she had been sprawled out on Nayeon’s bed, eyes wide with curiosity. “Wait, why are you crying?”
It felt like a thousand weights were resting on her shoulders. How was she supposed to tell them that she was to be married and the only options she had to choose from were on their way to Seoul and would be arriving soon? She hadn’t even noticed the tears spilling from her eyes. Her entire body numb from the conversation with her father.
“Um...Chae.” She began as Jeongyeon rushed towards her, handkerchief in hand. Still sniffling. “Do you remember what Yerim was talking about this morning? About the two princes on their way to Seoul? It was about that.”
“It wasn’t just business matters, was it?”
Jeongyeon’s voice sounded so small. Quiet and meek. Nayeon had had a conversation like this before, once. When she turned sixteen, her father brought up the topic of marriage. Her mother had quickly shut him down, saying she was too young and that she had the right to fall in love just as they had. Nayeon had explained everything to Jeongyeon and the topic hadn’t come up again - that is until now.
Nayeon just shook her head. Jeongyeon knew exactly what she meant.
“My father has invited two princes to...to court me. I have to choose which of them I want to wed by July and the wedding is at the end of August.” And with that, she broke down crying.
The two girls escorted her to her bed, Chaeyoung wrapped a blanket around her shoulders as Jeongyeon cradled her - stroking coiffed locks and wiping away tears. Both of them held her close, knowing the importance of love to her.
“I don’t get the fairytale love story mother always told me about...I thought I could have that much, you know?”
Jeongyeon just shushed her, rocking her fragile form back and forth slowly.
“You can always divorce them when you become queen?” Chaeyoung offered, grasping at anything to soothe the crying princess. It didn’t help, Nayeon breaking into tears once more, clinging tight to the duchess that held her.
Of course, Chaeyoung wouldn’t understand. She has always had the ability to choose. A small luxury that Nayeon never had. When she woke in the morning, she got to choose what to eat for breakfast, what time she planned on eating lunch, what people she wanted to talk to...simple, simple things that Nayeon had never known. Chaeyoung had never had the subject of marriage be another trading deal or a way to soothe tensions between kingdoms. For her, marriage was for love. Not convenience. Oh how Nayeon envied her. At that moment in time, the younger's blissful ignorance was exactly what she wished she had.
“Chaengie, it’s not as simple as that.” Jeongyeon started as she rubbed small circles into the small of Nayeon’s back, “If Nayeon gets married, that’s it. Unless her partner dies, she is bound to them for life. Divorce is so frowned upon in our society that her status as queen would be at risk and people would avoid working alongside us.”
Bound to them for life and she wouldn’t even have a say in it.
The three girls stayed in their huddle on Nayeon’s bed for hours, time slipping away as the princess held on to whatever freedom’s she had left. Eventually, Chaeyoung left, explaining how Madam Choi must be expecting her for supper and that Jeongyeon and Nayeon should go to the dining hall soon if they would like to eat, leaving the princess and the duchess alone in Nayeon’s bed chambers.
From the window on her balcony, the setting sun ignited the room gold. Pinks and purples lit up the sky as Nayeon’s sobs turned into small sniffles. Not once had Jeongyeon’s hand moved from where it rubbed those little circles into her skin and Nayeon wasn’t moving it any time soon.
“Unnie,” the younger gazed at the sunset, absorbing the scenery, “if you had the choice, who would you marry?”
Ever the lover of hypotheticals. Nayeon could only scoff at the irony. How was she supposed to tell Jeongyeon that it was her? That she was who Nayeon envisioned when thinking of her future. Her. Her and no one else. So she lied.
“I’m not sure...I have always had a soft spot for Jung Hoseok. However, from what Chaeyoung and Yerim have told me, I’m not his usual...type.”
“Does he prefer them a little bit more masculine?”
“You can say men, Jeongyeon. He prefers men. Liking people of the same gender as you isn’t dirty.”
The younger blubbered, trying to find her words. Homosexuality was never spoken about, especially not in the royal world. For centuries, it had been seen as a sin. Only the newest generation of royals had expanded their horizons and recognised it is just as human as those that are heterosexual.
“I know that!” she decides to shriek, softly punching Nayeon’s shoulder in retaliation. “I didn’t know where you stood...you know, with your dad and all. We’ve never spoken about it before!”
The pair burst into a fit of giggles, rocking back to lay on the bed - side by side and so, so close. Nayeon felt like she couldn’t breathe. Laughter erupting from her chest like a bird from a cage.
A small part of her visibly relaxed though. Jeongyeon didn’t think it was dirty. She was okay with it. Completely. A weight was lifted off of her chest, opening her heart up despite the news she had received only a few hours earlier.
Once their cackles had turned into quiet giggles, Jeongyeon once again broke the peacefulness. Curious.
“What time do the princes arrive?” she queried, eyes wide and a little distant.
“Tomorrow morning. They entered Gyeonggi-Do today and are resting there for the night.”
“Do you want to go for a ride down by the river? You know, considering it’s your last day of freedom and all,” Jeongyeon chuckled teasingly. Nayeon was happy she could make light of this situation. It made coping with it a lot easier.
Racing down the Han River on her horse - Aga - with Jeongyeon in tow, Nayeon could almost forget that starting tomorrow, her life was about to change drastically. She might as well make the most of it alongside her most favourite person in the world and forget for a while. Blissfully unaware of what was coming her way.