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Lee Hwi gasps, her body heaving as a wave of nausea flips her queasy stomach.
She never knew this until today, but she is definitely not one for sea travel.
One would think that riding a boat would be exactly the same as riding a horse - bumpy, and gets you to your destination in a rocking fashion. One would think that one who is an adept horse rider would be perfectly fine on a boat - hell, she does not even need to squeeze the boat, nor guide it with cooing commands.
The sea is a choppy mess of green and white, against a placid blue sky. Hwi purses her lips to keep the bile that is rising up her throat, with little success.
She heaves again into the water.
"That's it. Don't try to keep it in, your Royal Highness." Jung Jiwoon says quietly, his large hand petting her back in warm, gentle strokes.
"Just let it all out as it comes along."
Hwi groans, her legs feeling like jelly as she clutches the rails of the boat for support.
It is embarrassing, really. To let her tutor witness all of this.
A flash of annoyance strikes her chest as she takes in his concerned face. He, on the other hand, seems perfectly unbothered by the up and down motion of their boat.
"Stop pouting, it makes me want to kiss you, Wife." He says, wiping her lips with his sleeve. She tucks her lips in almost immediately at his playful words.
His eyes turn into tiny crescents as a smile lit his face.
"We're almost here," he says, giving her lip a last, tender swipe, his thumb lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
The world seems to still its movements, and Hwi can feel her face burning.
He finally lets go of her, after hiding her face behind the silken cover of her embroidered jang-ot.
A loud knock catches her attention, just as the boat hits the dock, rocking violently from side to side.
And Hwi loses balance.
Her legs are moving too slowly, for her liking, as if she is walking in water. She hates how limp her entire body feels, and cannot wait to get to steady, solid ground.
"I've got you," says Jiwoon as he held her in his embrace.
His body warmth envelopes her entire frame.
"I've got you." He says again. "C'mon, one step in front of the other."
The boatmen are calling out to each other as they secure the wooden vessel with heavy ropes, but Hwi barely heard them.
She allows herself to lean onto Jiwoon lightly, and focuses on his low, soothing murmurs as he guides her towards the large plank connecting them to the pier.
She sighs when her foot reaches the brown, blessed earth. The primitive urge to sink to her knees and feel the ground with her palms is strong, but that would be too undignified.
"Can you walk on your own?" Jiwoon asks, his grip on her loosening. She nods, reluctant to leave his arms, but thankful that strength was returning to her body with her every step on solid ground.
Together, they cross into what seems like a bustling shopping street. Vendors line the pathway, displaying their colourful wares for all to see and calling out to passerbys in cheerful voices.
Hwi smiles, watching the people go about their day - fully engrossed in their activities and working hard to make a living.
A simple, yet blissful life.
It is all she had ever wanted.
And now, her father had granted it to her.
"Are you meeting Commander Yoon?" he asks.
She nods. "Father has made arrangements for me to live in a safe house beyond the mountain. I am to meet the rest of the entourage at the Buddhist temple in the woods."
"Alone?" She gazes up into his searching, concerned eyes. And nods again.
"I'll be fine." She says, she knows what he's asking and knows it's not safe for him to join her. "We've travelled so far away from the palace, I don't think I'll be recognisable. I think we lost the soldiers too." She says.
She presses down the rising alarm at the thought of parting ways with him.
Should she succumb to this childish desire for him to remain by her side? Will she even see him again?
And what if she doesn't?
"Royal Tutor Jung," she says impulsively.
I am Yeon Seon.
"I- I have something to tell you."
I am your Yeon Seon.
But he doesn't wait for her to continue.
"How could I leave you with no escort, my prince." He says. "You've lived a life of luxury and comfort. I wonder how you will survive in this harsh world." Jiwoon has a glint in his eye.
"Ah, indeed. As a dutiful citizen of our Kingdom, I have no choice but to escort you. At least, until you meet Commander Yoon."
Of course.
The Jung Jiwoon she knows would do whatever he wants, regardless of anyone's opinion. Hwi has a love-hate relationship with this side of the witty man.
She chuckles, somewhat relieved that he interrupted her. That he made the difficult decision to stay with her.
There will be time to tell him.
Soon.
She meets his eyes, her mind searching for a clever quip to respond, when a flash of panic crosses his handsome features.
Jiwoon grabs her hand and starts running, dragging her alongside him.
Hwi stumbles, tripping over her own feet as she tries to keep up.
"Over there! Stop them!" A man bellows from behind them.
Dread unravels across her chest when she recognises the agitated voice. The all-too-familiar voice of Inspector Jung, Jiwoon's father.
And he is not alone.
She can hear the sound of swift footsteps following close. It sounds like he brought a contingent of soldiers across the sea with him.
Grandfather must be desperate for her to return.
Hwi trains her eyes on the woods just beyond the village and steadies her footing. On a good day, she can outpace the guards she trains with. This is doable, all she needs to do is to get to the cover of the woods, and find a safe place to hide.
Jiwoon increases his speed, his fingers tightening around her hand, reminding her of his presence. Yes. And she is not alone, will no longer be alone.
The thought itself lifts her spirits.
The sound of flying arrows pierces the air, startling her. Hwi risks a glance behind them, and sees that the soldiers are releasing arrows into the air to keep them from going any further.
But she's not going to stop now.
No, not when she has already come so far. Only death will bring her back to the palace.
"Keep going!" She pants, trying to move faster, if that's even possible.
A high-pitched hissing cuts through the air, and she gasps as a burning sensation pierces her upper arm.
The searing pain spreads rapidly across her entire being.
Hwi knows an arrow must have hit her, but she knows not to look. That it's better not to look.
Hwi's knees buckle, and she blinks back the stinging in her eyes. He catches her before she falls. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Jiwoon continued running into the woods, almost dragging her off her feet.
She puts one foot in front of the other.
The lurching in her stomach returns.
They enter the cover of trees, the ground slippery from the decaying leaves covering the ground.
Jiwoon is still running, his pace swift and even as he leads them to safety. Hwi tries to ignore the pain, and chews on her lip.
One foot in front of the other.
The pain intensifies.
It feels like they have been running for hours, though Hwi knows it must be much less than that.
She belatedly realises that their footsteps are muffled by the litter of the forest floor, and the yells of the chasing soldiers grows distant.
He crouches down, and she follows.
Despite her best attempts to focus on the firm clasp of his hand, the sturdiness of his shoulder, the afternoon sunlight assaults her heightened senses.
Her head spins.
After they hurtled down the sharp bend in the road, Jung Jiwoon takes the opportunity to duck behind some dense undergrowth by a tree.
He holds his breath and prays to all the gods that they remain undetected. A few moments later, the soldiers rush past them.
But he knows they are still in danger of being discovered.
And he can never risk being caught by his father, no. Not when it means sending the prince back into his grandfather's controlling clutches.
He rises and turns to go down a narrow trail into the trees. It is best to stay as far away from the main path as possible. The prince moves pliantly along, but his gait is wobbly.
Jiwoon frowns.
He knows that the prince was weakened by their journey across the sea. But Jiwoon thought that Hwi would have regained most of his vigor and strength when they reached land.
Taking in the prince's pale face, Jiwoon's frown deepens.
His large eyes, usually clear as a still pond on a summer's eve, are foggy and unfocused. His lips are deathly pale and his complexion grey. And a dark red blotch covers his right upper arm.
Coldness slips down Jiwoon's spine. He should have noticed this sooner.
It is only now that he finds his palm, the one that had been holding on to Hwi, damp and sticky with blood.
Hwi's blood.
Why didn't he notice it earlier?
Had he been running all this time while he was injured?
How did he even keep up?
His mind is full with thoughts. Distracting thoughts. Unhelpful thoughts.
Without a word, Jiwoon lifts Hwi into his arms.
And he runs.
Jiwoon finds a little clearing further into the woods.
He puts her down and Hwi collapses against the sturdy tree behind her.
She waits for the world to stop spinning by focusing on Jiwoon, who is kneeling in front of her. The man must be tired, his chest heaving in exertion. He had carried her for quite a distance before he was confident that they have finally lost the soldiers.
His face is tightly drawn, his eyes dark and worried. Hwi summons a tentative smile.
They are safe now, hopefully.
He reaches for her arm to examine her wound. She frowns at his prodding. The pain is now a throbbing drum under her skin and she resists the urge to push his hands away from her.
"Luckily, the arrow shaft went clean through your arm. But you have a fletch splintered into your arm," he says almost angrily.
Hwi winces as he presses her hand back on her arm. A whimper escapes her. Now that she knows it's there, she cannot ignore the wooden piece biting into her arm.
"Wait for me here." He says, as he reaches for her lower lip with his thumb. It feels raw. Hwi didn't realise that she was worrying it again.
With the back of his hand, he touches her cheek lightly. "I'll come back with something for your wound."
She nods and watches as he rises. All around them are trees and overgrown bushes. There is a faint call of a bird in the distance, but everything else is quiet. The sun has slid further down the sky, and the air holds a light chill.
Her arm is starting to feel blessedly numb.
When Jiwoon returns, he brings with him light green leaves with a brown paste.
"Remove your hanbok, Your Royal Highness." Jiwoon says. "We have to clean and treat your wound."
Oh.
Her heart starts to race and her left hand reaches across her chest, to the ribbon holding her jeoguri together. She clutches it self-consciously.
"Let me treat it before it becomes infected."
Tell him.
"I- I have something to tell you."
"Later, after your wound is treated." He says, his hand reaching towards her to help her.
She starts to tremble. At what she needs to tell him. At how he may react. At his possible rejection.
Her mind is both empty and cluttered at the same time.
She holds onto his hand before he could touch the ribbon.
"I'll do it," she says.
Her hand is shaking. Hwi tries to still her fingers, and fails.
She tugs on the ribbon. It comes off easily.
Her heart thunders in her chest as she reaches for the front edges of her jeoguri. She wants to meet his eyes, but bows her head instead, parting the front of her jacket. Wincing, she draws the jacket past her shoulders and down her arms.
Her eyes starts to water as the pain returns.
"I wanted to tell you this."
Jung Jiwoon's eyes widen as he tries to process the sight in front of him. His prince, with his hanbok spread around him in layers of silk and chiffon, like a blossoming flower.
He is a woman.
He takes in his gently sloping shoulders, his creamy white skin and the delicate ridges of his collar bones.
He is a her.
He takes in the curve of her breasts, bound snugly behind layers of cloth.
He takes in her fear, her torn lip and the downward curve of her eyebrows.
She is a woman.
He had never once suspected, nor thought that Hwi could be a woman.
Of course.
His slight frame and extremely beautiful features, his mellow, soothing voice and lithe, slim fingers.
Jiwoon always thought that was just part of Hwi, and his aesthetic.
Her aesthetic.
Now he knows what it means.
He takes in the tremor in her hands, and her downcast eyes, her lashes casting dark shadows against her high cheek bones.
Not that it made a difference, to Jiwoon, no.
This, is still, Hwi.
The same person he fell head over heels for, nevermind his past affection for his childhood crush. The same person he found his heart yearning for, so easily caring for. The same person who steals his breath away, every day, with his strength and courage.
And now this person, is a she.
As long as she's Hwi.
Nothing else matters.