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Jun knew it wasn’t right of him, yet he was too far gone to go back.
There were many things that the young prince, Junhui, believed in—ghosts (surprisingly), his family (especially his younger sister), that brown rice was never as good as white rice (the one time he’d disagree with said sister).
One of those things that he certainly did not believe in was love at first sight.
Being the next in line for the throne, Jun already had a plethora of responsibilities to keep in his mind; there was no way a silly romance could be one of those thoughts encompassing any possible extra waking hour between his lessons and meals and martial arts training—the latter which happened every other day. No, of course not. He had no time for any schoolboy crushes or dwindling feelings that would consume him when he’d inevitably lay in bed at night, body aching and mind unwilling to shut off despite his mental exhaustion from day after day of busyness.
“Your Highness?”
The prince nearly jumped in his seat; the little hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight when he couldn’t, his shoulders instead shrinking down into himself as if that would make him somehow less visible.
“Were you still in search of a snack while you work?”
Junhui swallowed his invisible nerves to the human eye, and cleared his throat, finally turning in his seat to see you at his bedroom doorway with a tray gripped tightly in your hands.
“Yes, come in,” the boy’s voice wavered at first, becoming stronger as he continued, “and please, you know you don’t have to call me those proper names you’ve been trained to do so. Just Jun is fine.”
Oh, how he ever so wished he could pause time itself to gaze longer at the gentle smile gracing your face when you giggled at his words.
“Old habits die hard, I’m afraid, Your Highness,” you stepped closer inside the prince’s room until you approached his mahogany desk in its usual state of scattered papers and dried ink quills. You sat the tray down onto the one empty corner, “The strawberries from the garden are in season now; I picked them myself earlier this afternoon.”
Sure enough, peeling his focus from the last of his notes to the dish atop the silver tray, ruby-red berries free of blemishes and decorated with tiny drops of dew from being washed with care, Jun wanted nothing more than to share the fruits with you.
But, as his eyes wandered and landed on your apron with small, pink, scrunched up stains where you inevitably dried your hands after handling the strawberries, Jun was reminded how inappropriate it would be if he were to be caught having a meal with one of the palace’s staff members.
It was a good thing that you’d only brought him strawberries, which were not, in fact, a meal.
“Here,” Jun stood up abruptly, causing you to move back a pace. The prince proceeded to step across his room, collecting the short cushion-adorned stool that normally lived in front of his vanity. “Would you sit with me? Please?”
You only peered at him with wide eyes upon processing his words.
“Strawberries this good shouldn’t be eaten in solitude. Please, (Y/N), share them with me.”
You loosened the grip you didn’t know you had on the front of your apron, blinking a few more times until you mumbled, “I suppose if that is an order, Your Highness, I shall sit with you.”
Carefully perching yourself onto the edge of the stool and smoothening out your skirt, you weren’t expecting for the prince to hold out the bowl to you, allowing you the first pick of the bunch. You now knew better than to deny Jun, so you whispered a “Thank you” before plucking one of the strawberries from the dish as daintily as you could.
“How is the planning going for your trip, Your Highness?” you asked before taking a bite of the fruit. “Is it wrong for me to assume that that’s what you’re working on at the moment?”
Jun hummed, his focus back on the scatter of papers in his clutch. “I still can’t believe my sister is getting married soon.”
“An arranged marriage, I presume?”
“Unfortunately,” he sighed out, “although, I’ve heard nothing but good things about the prince. Still, I can’t help but wish I could get her out of the situation.”
You licked your lips, strawberry residue a tang on the tip of your tongue. “Are you that against marriage, Your Highness?”
“No,” Jun said bluntly, “it’s only the arranged aspect of it that I could do without.”
Even though there hadn’t been any solidified plans for the prince himself yet—as he hadn’t met any potential suitors up until now—the thought of being forced to marry, forced to love someone, left a stale taste in his mouth that even the sweetest of strawberries couldn’t mask.
“Would it be ignorant of me to wish that sometimes I could have your job instead of mine?” the prince muttered.
You lifted your gaze from the edge of the desk to meet Jun’s eyes.
“At the least,” he added, “I’d be able to wed whomever I wanted.”
“It still doesn’t always happen like that, though, Your Highness,” you began to bunch up your apron once more. “Sometimes, one may still fall in love with another whom with which they’d never have a chance. It may not be an arrangement as in your case; however, true love may still be unattainable in another manner.”
Junhui wasn’t sure if he believed in true love. (Unlike love at first sight; a vastly different idea to the prince.) The abstract concept teetered in his mind, holding a balancing beam on the fine tightrope line of what he did and did not believe.
All the young prince knew was that you did something to his mind—you made his thoughts swirl and his stomach uneasy but in the best possible way; not even he could make sense of it. Perhaps, you were something like an angel, although in disguise as you watched over him. Each day that passed, your beauty became more and more evident to Junhui—and you were never dressed fancily nor made up in all the frills and lace and satin that any of the other royals would have to decorate themselves uncomfortably with. (Not that the prince really cared for the various textiles around the palace.)
No, when Jun looked at you, he saw nothing but you in your barest form; sometimes it was your messy hair, loose tendrils that had fallen out of your updo throughout your working day to only frame your face in a way that made him want to reach out his hand and tuck a strand behind your ear. Sometimes it was the way your lips would be bitten raw (a nervous habit of yours that you did without consciously thinking about it), leaving Jun with no thoughts other than that he wanted to remind you to stop biting them when you’d be concentrating so intensely. Then, perhaps kissing you better when you mindlessly still did it again.
Sometimes, it was the way your hands looked so soft and smooth in the fuzzy lighting as the sun set from outside of his bedroom window beyond his desk. Glancing at your hands now, Jun nearly lifted his palm to feel for himself but stopped himself and instead moved to pick up another strawberry.
Prince Jun was beyond confused. Love at first sight was undoubtedly one of the things that he didn’t believe to be true. And yet, he couldn’t think of a more fitting description from when he had first laid his eyes upon you.
The prince cleared his throat, snapping himself out of the daydream he so easily fell into when it revolved around you, “My trip away will be longer than I had anticipated.” He wasn’t sure if you were aware, pausing for your response, but only was met with silence. “After all of the festivities surrounding my sister’s engagement, I will be leaving the Gyeonggi Province with only my advisor, as it has been rumoured for there to be a princess a few days’ travel away.”
“I see,” is all you said, a smile more forced than usual upon your lips.
But when you stood from your seat and Jun finally reached out to you, he hated the way your hand was just as—no—even softer and smoother than he’d imagined.
Without any warning, his life flashed before him—Jun was suddenly growing old and grey, and you were by his side with those same eyes and smile that beamed today. And despite a few wrinkles here and there, it was unmistakably you. His daydreaming mind could feel the glossiness of the wedding band wrapped tightly around your finger.
No, Prince Jun didn’t want to meet this so-called princess he knew nothing about in nearly a week’s time, but that was just it: he was a prince, and, with the heaviest pain weighing down his chest, you, unlike him, were not of royal descent.
Perhaps if your lives were different, maybe in another time altogether, the two of you would flourish as a couple. You were beyond complimentary of each other—and you both knew that. You understood his sense of humour; you understood when he needed space to himself; hell, you understood him. Jun wasn’t able to say the same about any other staff member of the palace.
But sometimes, the cruelness of the world was an unpredictable force—dividing apart even those who were meant to be together.
The two of you stood with hands intertwined as if a final grasp at what could have been.
Jun knew it wasn’t right of him, yet he was too far gone to go back.
The tall prince leaned down in-level with your face and placed a small kiss onto the apple of your warming cheek.
“I have to begin packing,” he muttered, staying by your ear. “I leave tomorrow.”
“Jun–” you spoke out, but the words only died as they met the air. You instead nodded your head, too tongue-tied and unable to speak, focusing your gaze on the emptied bowl of strawberries remaining on his desk, now cupping the fading sunlight flooding through the open window along with the confession you could never say aloud.
You approached the desk, collecting the tray and finally departing from the prince’s room without looking back, walking down the hall in the opposite direction of Jun’s receding footsteps.
Yet, you wouldn’t have known then that the next time you’d see Junhui, he’d be returning about a month later with his bride-to-be, hand in hand and smiles ever-so presently decorating each of their beautiful faces.
You doused yourself in the thickest of veneer and plastered a smile upon your face to match theirs.
You knew it wasn’t right of you, yet you were too far gone to go back.
You missed the way Jun’s gaze lingered on you, and his smile faded in the slightest.