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It was Jimin’s third attempt at trying not to break into hysterics at the display before her. It was also the third time the prince had attempted to lean in Minjeong’s space for a kiss, only for the princess to duck her head at the right time, resulting the prince into a mess of stumbling limbs at an awkward angle to entirely miss it. If she were in Minjeong’s heels, the prince would’ve been sporting a black eye already but alas, the princess was just too kind and patient for her own good.
They were now dancing, gliding along the white perfect marble floor of the castle. And Minjeong was just so beautiful. Her dark locks fixed in a dutch braid as it was decorated with little silver ornaments in the guise of flowers, her petticoat a deep shade of green, which would remind Jimin of the forest at night. The same forest she would bring Minjeong at times, when the sun is barely peeking through the skies, if only to allow themselves a moment of reprieve. A reprieve Jimin longed for right now.
Minjeong’s gaze trapped her over the prince’s shoulder, as she offered a smirk and a subtle roll of her eyes when she vaguely gestured to the man in her arms. So unbecoming of a princess to another’s eyes, yet to Jimin’s, it’s just another endearing quirk that makes the blooming fondness inside her chest grow. Jimin could only give a slight tilt of her head as an acknowledgement, face remaining impassive lest they get caught by prying eyes.
“If it isn’t my favorite General.” The king’s booming voice greeted to her right, “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Only at your behest, Your Lordship.”
“At ease, General. We are here to celebrate.”
Ah. Right. Minjeong’s pre-wedding celebration to some boorish prince Jimin didn’t even bothered to learn the name of. She inclined her head to the king, not dignifying the words with an answer as she lets her eyes trail over the crowd instead. This was her job, anyway. To look for something amiss. To make sure everyone was well guarded and safe at such royal public events. When she’s satisfied that her stationed guards are still in their places, she removes her attention from them only to spot the queen not too far, a warm smile plastered on her face as she conversed with cohorts who Jimin could only assume were some of the prince’s relatives.
Jimin had always preferred Minjeong’s mother far more than her father. She had always been kinder, gentler. She never pressured Minjeong into doing anything she must not want. Such a stark contrast to the king it left Jimin often wondering how she ended up with a man like him. Not too soon though, her gaze is falling back to the princess. Minjeong’s eyes would fleet to them for a moment, but her expression remained cool and calculated right now, stripped of all the mischief from earlier, no doubt because of the sudden presence of her father as she redirected her gaze to the prince who was talking to her.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Jimin ponders if this is a trick question, but not too long as to raise suspicions, “She is every bit of a princess could be and more, Your Lordship.”
Jimin for a second, was afraid that she might’ve revealed more than she let on but when the king’s bellowing laughter filled her ears, she lets herself relax. “You really are quite the charmer, General. If you were capable of producing an heir, I wouldn’t hesitate for you to wed my daughter.”
It took all of Jimin’s willpower not to snap the man’s neck right then and there to put it in a spike. How vile must you be, for you to be able to spout such disgusting things like that about your own daughter? Jimin’s trembling hands rested against the hilt of her own sword perched at the side of her hip. An attempt to tamper her flaring temper.
“If I may be so bold to speak, Your Lordship.”
The king took a sip from the chalice, “You wish to speak your mind. Very well then, do so, General.”
“The princess is an intelligent and strong woman. She’s more than capable of holding off her own, and I do believe that she would make a promising queen with or without an heir.”
“Hm. Wise words, as expected from my hand picked General.”
“You are too kind, Your Lordship, as I only speak the truth.”
The lull between their conversation was chagrinned after that, although perhaps it was only Jimin as she had never really felt comfortable under the king’s scrutinizing attention. A few moments passed, and Jimin was just glad when he was altogether removed from her orbit when another man pulled him aside for a conversation.
The night went on without a hitch, much to Jimin’s relief. She was also criminally exhausted; she feels like she could pass out for a whole week. Seeing Minjeong with her supposed husband really took a toll on her. Mentally and physically. She hadn’t had the chance to talk to Minjeong, as she was always whisked away from conversation to conversation, too. Jimin knew the princess must be tired as well and perhaps already snoring inside her own quarters. Despite the exhaustion, the mental image brought an unbridled smile to her own lips.
When she enters her home, she was surprised to see a figure seated at one of her old wooden chairs. The one she built with her own bare hands, just because she knows the princess loved reading in that particular corner, paralleled by a window overlooking the riverbank near her cottage. Her face was illuminated by a single candlelight, a thick book sat upon her folded legs as her fingers were absently picking at her lower lips, apparently too engrossed in her own world to notice the knight walking in the room. The princess had changed into a more comfortable dress, no doubt exchanging comfort over grandiose as the trek from the castle to Jimin’s cot was no laughing matter.
“I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
Minjeong jumps slightly, her gaze snapping up before a slow smile was painting her lips. She doesn’t move to greet Jimin halfway with a kiss, which she would usually do. So Jimin opts to rest her weight against the archway that connects her kitchen to the living room. They’ve always done this game. See who would give in first. So far, Minjeong always won. “I’ve only managed to convince my retainer to allow me three hours of “free wandering” without the knowledge of my father, and I’ve been waiting for an hour, so that gives me two. But I missed you dearly, you were so distant in the party, so what are you doing standing all the way there and not coddling me?”
Jimin chose to ignore the carefully curated trap. Minjeong sure was beautiful. Cunning if needed, but Jimin wouldn’t fall for it. “Yizhuo is spoiling you. It would please me if you are to be more careful, however. I’m worried about you.”
Jimin’s tone had gone considerably soft at the last part, and Minjeong’s stance immediately crumbled, the game they were playing momentarily forgotten if only to give way to their honest feelings, “No one saw me. I made sure, I promise. “
“That is all I ask.” Jimin moved forward, observing the way Minjeong’s body had automatically leaned forward, as if she’s being drawn by the mere presence of the knight. Jimin hid her smirk, she stands just a few feet away from Minjeong, not quite touching but gazes meeting in an intense challenge. Jimin starts unstrapping the lapels of her armour.
Minjeong cleared her throat.
“I saw you talking to father earlier. Tell me, did he bore you with talks of politics again?”
“Hm. Not quite.”
Minjeong set aside the book on her lap before standing, so full of grace, as she helps Jimin with removing the pauldrons of her heavy armour, “Would you care to tell me about it?”
“I’m afraid that’s between me and your father, princess. It would be high treason if I partake the information to you without his knowledge first.” Jimin often liked to test how far she could go with the woman. She was so easy to tease.
Minjeong arched an eyebrow, “So much so that you’d withheld it from your future Queen?”
Jimin fought the urge to smile as she nods, tone solemn, “Even more so, princess.”
Minjeong’s nails rake over her now armour free chest, a thin tunic separating it as a phantom of a touch sends gooseflesh against the knight’s skin before she’s daintily placing a palm at the back of Jimin’s neck. Minjeong pulled their bodies flush as she brought their faces close. Minjeong’s sweet breath skims over her lips. “How about as your lover?”
Oh, she was not playing fair tonight.
Jimin’s throat bobbed, her palms automatically branding around the lean waist possessively as she breathes out, voice husked, “We were just talking about how beautiful you were.”
Minjeong’s eyes glittered, a blinding smile taking over her delicate features, “Truly? You think I’m beautiful?”
“You speak as if I don’t tell you that everyday.”
“Oh, I know. I was merely teasing.”
And Jimin knew she lost the dance when she couldn’t stop the urge to press her lips against her lovers’. Unwanted flashes of the prince’s hands on her Minjeong’s body fleeting inside her mind made her kiss harder, insistent and biting.
“You know I’m only yours, Jimin.” Minjeong slips between kisses, as if she can read Jimin’s actual thoughts.
“But you are not promised to me.” Jimin rests her forehead against Minjeong’s, breath coming out in short pants as she feels Minjeong untucking her tunic, and then her warm palm is slipping beneath the cloth, skidding across the hard planes of her stomach.
“Promises be damned. For as long as I live, my heart, my body, and my soul are yours.”
Jimin was well aware that this was a dangerous path they were trekking. It’s wrong, as Minjeong was to be wedded with a prince in a month’s time. However, as Minjeong was pulling off her clothes, dragging her to bed as she pressed searing kisses down her throat, she can’t help but banish those thoughts away.
6 yrs ago
(Jimin was mad and bitter at the world when she met Minjeong. She was 16 and Minjeong was just 15.
Jimin runs, her whole body coiled in tight rage. The voice of the General booming inside her head: You’re reckless, Jimin! Get out of here and make sure you’ve cooled down when you decided to step on my training grounds again. I will not tolerate this childish behavior!
Jimin lashed out at unfortunately, the unassuming plants in front of her. She curled a fist against the rough, starchy leaves before pulling her hand back to tear it in frustration. She wanted to punch something. But her options are limited as she hadn’t realized that her feet took her to the castle’s humongous garden. She kicks a potted plant, barely nudging it with her boots as she lets out a frustrated growl.
“You know, if those plants could talk, they would probably be cursing you to no end by now.”
Jimin startles, whipping around from where she is standing so fast that the sole of her boots caught in a protruded rock it almost cause her to stumble. She was greeted by the sight of a girl, seated at one of the marble benches the whole garden seems to be surrounded of. The girl looks to be her age, but that’s where the similarities stopped because this girl is nothing like her.
Whereas Jimin was dirtied and bloodied in her tunic that could almost pass as rags instead of actual clothes, this woman was immaculate. Dark hair collected in one shoulder as it sits there in a braid, long deep blue dress that’s kissing the ground and a complexion so pale it made Jimin wonder if she ever saw the light of day.
“Who are you?” Jimin blurts out sounding rather abrasive even to her own self.
The woman blinks. Slow and delicate, just like her whole aura before she’s tilting her head to the side, mild bemusement colouring her features, “You’re new, aren’t you?”
What’s that supposed to mean, Jimin thought as her hackles rose. Suddenly feeling self-conscious at the curious gaze currently directed at her, she swipes at her bleeding split lip. “I got here two days ago.”
The woman hummed, non-committal, before she’s patting the space beside her, “Come here.”
It was uttered so softly that Jimin had to strain her ears to check if she heard it right. The confusion must’ve shown on her face. Though rather than recanting her words, the girl repeated the motion of patting the space beside her instead. Struck with an irrational thought, she’s suddenly afraid that if she comes a little too close to the girl, she would taint the pristine white marble top and the girl herself. “I—uh, I probably shouldn’t. I got like blood and dirt all over me and you’re so… clean.” Jimin finished the rant lamely.
The girl’s eyes shone in amusement, “How very chivalrous of you. Come here.”
Jimin could do nothing but follow, as the words though muttered delicately, comes out as more of a command this time. She sat gingerly, making sure to leave a considerable space between them. Apparently, the girl had other ideas as she’s leaning into Jimin’s space, a white handkerchief in her grip as she aims for Jimin’s face. For a split second, Jimin contemplated stopping the hand by grabbing her wrist but the thought froze rooted inside her brain when she’s bombarded by the sweet scent of peaches and roses.
She dabbed on the wound, and Jimin, who had never had someone treated her as gently and kindly as this one before, could do nothing but shut her eyes in pure bliss as she lets the girl do whatever she pleases.
“How did you hurt yourself?”
The voice broke the serene quiet moment. Jimin’s eyes remained shut.
“I’m the king’s new recruit. Training to be in his military.”
The girl stopped, and Jimin tampered down the urge to whine at the loss. She snaps her eyes open instead and there’s a stricken look passing across the girl’s delicate features. Jimin braced for impact. She expected disgust. She expected the comments about a girl not fit for a role like this but instead of those, what she got instead is a quiet reverence in her tone, “But you’re so young.”
Jimin scoffs, she didn’t mean to sound rude but she was annoyed, nonetheless, “Yeah, well, I don’t really have a choice. It’s either this or I’m begging for scraps out there. At least I have a roof over my head to sleep in here.”
The girl reeled back, appearing chastised and it almost made Jimin take back her words. “You’re right. Forgive me, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m Minjeong.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow, Minjeong? Hm. Why does it feel like she’d heard that before? Eh. It’s a common name. “Call me Jimin. So, what are you doing out here? Are you a gardener?”
“I do love gardening. The dahlias bloom prettily in this time of year, don’t you think?” Minjeong rattled off, seemingly intent on not giving her a straight answer.
“I wouldn’t know. I—it’s my first time seeing so many.”
Minjeong pluck one near her before bringing it close to her companion.
Jimin grasps it carefully in her hands, afraid to ruin something so beautiful, “Are we even allowed to do this?”
“I wouldn’t tattle if you won’t.” Minjeong’s painted pink lips pulled into a demure smirk before she’s smoothing a palm against the length of her dress.
Jimin scrunched her nose as her eyes rake over the motion, “Your clothes are way too fancy for gardening. Is that like, your uniform?”
Minjeong hummed, “So if you’re in the king’s military, then you’ve already met Aeri.”
At the mention of the name, Jimin’s face darkened. The sole reason why she’s moping and being thrown out of the training grounds in the first place. “You know her?”
Minjeong arched an eyebrow, “I met her a few times. She’s our age, and she’s been nice. I like her. Now why am I sensing a lot of hostility there?”
Jimin crossed her arms, petulant, “We were up against each other and she beat me.”
Minjeong chuckled, a melodious tinkle tickling her ears, “Ah, I get it now.”
Jimin gritted her teeth. No, Minjeong doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that if Jimin failed to prove her worth here, she would be back out there begging for scraps and living off the streets. Cold, harsh nights. There is no one for her out there. Nothing. Dead parents. No friends.
Minjeong, ever the perceptive one, seems to catch on her musings as she’s daintily placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. At the touch, Jimin’s guarded stance eased.
“I fear that you’re being quite unjust to yourself. Aeri has been training for a year already. You’ve been here for two days. You should give yourself time to adjust.”
Logically, she knew Minjeong was right. She was letting rage bleed her thoughts and it’s gotten her into trouble more times than she could count. Partly ashamed, Jimin hung her head low as she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. We’ve all been harsh to ourselves far more than necessary, it’s only important that we never forget that we are allowed to make mishaps too.” Minjeong had a faraway look on her face as she said this.
The silence that blanketed between them after that was comfortable, but it would be ruined by a rather loud yell that would echo around the air.
“Princess!”
They both perked up at the sound. Jimin frowned as Minjeong’s whole body freezes. Minjeong stuffs the handkerchief inside her pockets, suddenly stripped of grace as her movements are in a floundering rush.
“Hey, let me wash that handkerchief before I return in to you.”
“No, it’s okay!” Minjeong squeaks as she rushed to slip on her heels, which Jimin only notices were set aside in the bench just now.
“Princess!”
The call was getting louder and Jimin was just utterly confused as to why Minjeong was suddenly frazzled.
She gets her answer in the form of a 5-foot-tall brunette girl rounding the corner as she curtsied upon the sight of them, “Princess Minjeong, where were you? Your mother is going to kill me! You need to prepare for the ball!”
Jimin’s jaw hang slack. Princess Minjeong. Princess. That’s why the name was so familiar to her. How could she be so stupid? How could she not notice the sigil of the kingdom embroidered in the girl’s dress?
“Princess?” Jimin managed to croak out.
Both girls turned to her, Minjeong who had the decency to look sheepish, at least as much as her elegant demeanour could allow her and the brunette who was scowling at her as she placed her hands against her hips.
“Who are you?” The brunette demanded as she stalks towards Jimin, and without so much ado, lightly kick on Jimin’s shin to make her bow, “Why aren’t you paying respects to the princess?”
Jimin grunted as she keeled over, still too much in shocked at the past events to fully comprehend what was happening.
“Yizhuo, please. No need for that. I was merely showing Jimin around as she was new. Jimin, meet my retainer, Yizhuo. Yizhuo, this is Jimin. She’s father’s new recruit.”
Yizhuo harrumphed but she did step back.
Minjeong moved forward, hefting her dress before motioning for Jimin to straighten up. She whispers, not too loud and only for the both of them to hear, “I didn’t mean to deceive you, I guess it was just nice to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t have too high of a regard on me. I’ll see you around, hm?”
Jimin could only nod dumbly. And then Minjeong was gone, leaving only traces of the scent of peaches and roses in her wake and the dahlias wedged between her fingers.)
Jimin was stirred awake by the insistent pounding against the door. Cracking one eye open, the sight of Minjeong’s naked form still asleep in her bed brought a fond smile to her face. She drops a light kiss on Minjeong’s temple, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of her bed before picking up her tunic and breeches on the ground.
The pounding starts again but this time, it’s followed by a voice.
“Jimin, open up! I swear to gods if you don’t—“
The wailing was cut off when Jimin yanked the door open. The first thing she took notice of is how hard Yizhuo was scowling at her and the darkness blanketing their surroundings. Perhaps she and Minjeong were not asleep for long. If not for the kerosene lamp in Yizhuo’s grip, she wouldn’t have seen her second in command Aeri, perched against one of the railings, stifling a yawn behind her palm. She was stripped of her armour as well, replaced by her own casual clothes but the sword wrapped around her waist was present. When she noticed Jimin, Aeri straightened the slacking composure, inclining her head as a sign of respect. “General.”
“Three hours. She said three hours.” If Yizhuo’s stare could kill, Jimin would’ve dropped dead right then and there.
“Why is Aeri here?” Jimin counters back instead, looking between them, tone bemused.
“Well, it wasn’t my fault some boorish woman opted to live in the deep, dark forest where a stray wolf could attack me any second.” Yizhuo stated flatly, “I brought your second in command for my protection!”
“She dragged me out of bed.” Aeri quips from behind, lazy and bored.
“Shut up.” Yizhuo hisses back, a faint flush adorning her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. “Where is she?”
“Asleep.” Jimin took a step back, letting Yizhuo pass without so much of a fuss as the brunette breezed past her, grumbling to herself.
Jimin leaned her weight on the doorway, arms crossed, “So, you and Yizhuo, huh.”
“Me and Yizhuo indeed.” Aeri’s tone was languid and nonchalant, but the shadow of a smile painting her lips wouldn’t go past the knight’s keen eye.
Jimin couldn’t stop the chortle escaping her lips if she wanted to, “You know when I first met you, I thought you were merely a prick.”
Aeri’s smile morphed into a smirk as she said, “Likewise, General.”
Despite their rocky start, Jimin was glad that she found an ally in Aeri. Well, she had the princess to thank for that, to be quite honest. Minjeong had took it upon herself and practically made it her life mission. Going out of her way to make certain that she always had Aeri as a sparring partner. Scheduled stable duties together. At first, it annoyed Jimin to no end. Going so far as ranting to the princess about it any second she could get, yet the princess would only give her a loving smile followed by a lingering kiss pressed to her cheek and say: will you do it for me, my General? Jimin was still not the General then. Minjeong was merely fond of teasing her with the title. And it would always work like magic. Ever since then, she knew how to pluck Jimin’s heartstrings.
The sound of a ruffling cloth behind them made Jimin snap out of her reverie, turning around, she finds Minjeong being urged by Yizhuo, already dressed, hair mussed as she rubs at her eyes tiredly. This is her favourite Minjeong.
Minjeong stops in front of her, blindly cupping her jaw before standing on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on her lips as she says, “I’ll see you in the morrow.”
And then Yizhuo was urging the sleepy princess out of the door, walking ahead as Aeri chose to acknowledge Jimin first before leaving, “Rest well, General. I’ll make sure the princess returned safe.”
“Thank you, Aeri. Safe travels.”
As it turns out, with the marriage just looming around the corner, Minjeong was made scarce and busy over the course of weeks. They have thrived off stolen glances and fleeting touches in the castle hallways, if they are to be bold.
Jimin missed her beloved dearly.
So, it comes as a surprise for her when one night the loud pounding against her door, so reminiscent of those nights before when Yizhuo was doing it, can be overheard from the rumbling thunder and heavy splatters of water against her sodden cot. She yanks the door open with much force than necessary it left her momentarily winded.
Minjeong was standing there, drowned as a street rat, yet still looking as beautiful as ever. Minjeong doesn’t let her talk, she pushed Jimin in, crashing their lips together in an insistent move. They kissed, as Jimin helped Minjeong with untangling her complicated wet bodice. They kissed, as Minjeong was pulling off the tunic over Jimin’s head. They kissed, until they were stumbling back to Jimin’s bed.
It was only hours later, when the passion has subsided and Jimin was awoken by the missing warmth usually snuggled by her side. She sat up from her bed, rubbing a tired hand across her face.
“Hey. What are you doing there?”
Minjeong was eerily still, standing in the middle of the room, her eyes had that faraway look as it was transfixed outside Jimin’s window.
“You know as a kid, I’ve always wanted to play beneath the rain. But father wouldn’t let me. Always reminding me that it is unbecoming of a princess.”
Jimin’s heart gripped with melancholia for Minjeong but before she could speak, the princess was once again beating her to it.
“Say General, what would you do if I asked you to whisk me away from here?”
“You mean elope, princess?” Jimin plays along. The heiress’ had her arms clasped behind her, long dark locks cascading like waterfall behind her. Mussed and disheveled from the memory of earlier. One of her shoulder was bare as the tunic she chose to wear from Jimin’s wardrobe was too big against her petite frame, so it hangs off to one side. She looks magnificent in the dim light. Untouchable and regal yet the stolen kisses; marks of purplish bruises, the marks she herself made, peppered across her collarbones would shatter the unblemished image.
Minjeong’s lips twitch, visibly fighting back a smile, before nodding sagely, “If that is how you wish to call it, then sure. What would you do?”
“It depends on who you’re asking.”
Minjeong’s delicate eyebrows knitted together, finally casting her gaze towards her lover, “What do you mean?”
“The General Yu Jimin, loyal right-hand knight to the king or… or just your Yu Jimin?”
Minjeong’s eyes softened, stretching an arm if only to caress Jimin’s cheeks. Her hands are so soft. So gentle. So unlike hers; calloused and far more rough caused by years of wielding a sword. “If I must know both.”
“Well, General Yu Jimin will talk you out of it. Or dare she say, try to talk you out of it. Spewing facts about morals and oaths but in the end, she would do it. Because she loves you very much and wouldn’t stand a day to be apart from you.”
“And my Jimin?”
Jimin swallows a lump in her throat, “Same. Only without all the fuss. She would do it in a heartbeat because her rationalities are always thrown out of proportion whenever it’s you.”
“That sounds like my Jimin. Although, I love both. Let’s do it.”
It took a moment before the words registered in Jimin’s head. “What?”
Minjeong lifted a shoulder, so casual of a gesture yet she managed to make it elegant all the same. Her bare feet padded across the wooden floor as it creaks against her weight. She sat herself on Jimin’s lap, burying her face in her lover’s chest as she repeated the words. Jimin felt more than hear the whispered words against her naked skin, “Let’s do it.”
Jimin’s heart was thudding against her chest. Something was wrong. Minjeong was trembling in her arms. Her voice filled with so much emotion. Jimin could only tighten her grip around the girl, “What’s wrong, my love?”
Minjeong’s hold on her tightened and she seems to be struggling to even push the words out, “I think he knows.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
Minjeong’s voice was like an ice cube slinking against her back.
“How?”
“I overheard him and my mother fighting. I didn’t mean to. But I heard them. They—they are stationing guards outside my quarters from now on. I’m only lucky that they happen to put Aeri assigned to me so I was able to slip out with her and Yizhuo’s help.”
“Aeri.” Jimin breathes out, at least one good news in this plethora of bad. She pressed a kiss on the princess’ temple, an attempt to calm her nerves. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Minjeong pulled back, tone cracking, “I’m not worried about me, I’m deathly afraid of what they would do to you.”
“They can’t do anything to me. I’m still General of his military, they couldn’t replace me that easily. It’s above the law.”
Unless she’s dead. Unless he kills her. But Minjeong didn’t need to hear that right now.
“Yeah.” Minjeong nods her head, nosing under Jimin’s jaw as she wipes the tear tracks off her face. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”
“You won’t, I promise.”
Jimin knew the king as cunningly smart. He would do everything in his power to wash his hands of blood, pin the blame on others and make them do the dirty work for him.
Jimin knew it was only a matter of time before he strikes, and Jimin just had to be prepared for when it comes.
The king’s calculated move doesn’t come until a week later. It was almost comical, with how predictable he is, sending Jimin away for a month long mission when Minjeong’s wedding is looming in two weeks' time. In fact, if Jimin knew better, it wasn’t incidental.
“I’m coming with you.” Aeri said with a no-nonsense tone.
Jimin immediately perished the thought, “I need you here, Aeri. You are my second in command. They will need someone to lead them as long as I’ll be gone.”
The words I need someone to protect Minjeong came as an unspoken rule between them.
“This is a mistake. He is planning something.” Aeri was shaking her head, posture rigid.
“I know he is.”
The door to the war room breezed open, immediately cutting off the murmured conversation between Jimin and Aeri. The guards, sans for Aeri and Jimin, shot up straight upon the presence of their princess.
“I wish for an audience with General Yu.” Minjeong’s tone was disquiet and serene, but she could’ve been shouting as well with the way her brown eyes are steeled and filled with unspoken fury, “Alone.”
Jimin dismissed everyone in the room. They gave Minjeong a deep bow before scurrying off. Aeri on her way out, threw Minjeong an almost sympathetic smile, to which the princess acknowledged with an anxious one of her own.
Minjeong’s defense crumbled the instant they were left alone, cradling Jimin’s cheeks in the palm of her hands, her features full of anguish now as her words come out in a helpless plea, “He knows. It’s why he’s sending you on this mission. He knows, Jimin. Do you not think of him odd to send you out as the wedding is nearing?”
“I know.” Jimin clamps a gloved hand around the princess’ wrist, rubbing comforting circles against her inner wrist.
“Then why are you still going?”
“I don’t have much of a choice. I’m not in the position to refuse a direct order.”
“Alright, then. You can’t—you can’t go. I forbade you to. As your future queen.” Minjeong’s voice was laced with fear, trembling and it took all of Jimin’s willpower not to press her lips against her lovers’.
“I promise I’ll come back to you.”
“You can’t promise that.” Minjeong pulled from her hold, pacing back and forth as the anxiousness emitted with every step, “He is sending you beyond the borders, he’s never done that before because he knows it’s extremely dangerous. You know it’s bad out there. He might as well be sending you to a brewing war.”
“He won’t get rid of me that easily, I assure you, my love.”
“When do you leave?”
“In the morrow, before dawn. It will give me plenty of time to prepare.”
“O-okay.” Minjeong didn’t even realize she was crying as Jimin’s thumb gently swipes under her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Princess, I don’t think that’s—“
Minjeong was already cutting her off, a helpless plea, “Please. I—it would help me.”
Jimin’s hardened gaze melted, her tone just above a whisper, “If that would help ease your heart, my love.”
As soon as Jimin left, Minjeong locked herself in her quarters. She felt the hollowness creeping inside her chest as she observed her own reflection in her vanity. Inside the safe confines of her quarters with only Yizhuo as a company, she allowed the tears to fall freely. She loathed that she felt so helpless.
“It’s okay, Yizhuo. My hair’s fine.” She swatted at the hand currently working her dark locks into a complicated knot, but not without giving Yizhuo’s wrist a comforting squeeze if only to soften the blow of dismissal.
Yizhuo inclined her head, worry etched in her features. “I wish I could do something, princess.”
Minjeong turned her head to her retainer as she blindly grasps her hand. “You have done far more for me, Yizhuo. In fact, by helping me with this, I could’ve gotten you executed and for that I am deeply ashamed and indebted to you.”
Yizhuo shook her head. “You don’t have to be. I did it out of my own free will. I could’ve resigned and refused but I chose this.”
Minjeong offered a tearful smile. “May I ask why? God knows this family had never been the kindest to you.”
“Them. But never you. We basically grew up together yet the only time I ever see you truly smile is when you’re with that boorish prat.”
Minjeong chokes out a wet laugh, nudging Yizhuo in a warm embrace. She was so grateful to have Yizhuo in her life. The pair stayed like that for minutes until another servant was interrupting them with a knock on the door, summoning Minjeong for dinner.
When she got into the dining hall, she doesn’t greet her parents with her usual false enthusiasm. Instead, she went straight to her designated chair and never bothered to engage in a conversation for the rest of the meal.
At least until her father decided to break the silence.
“We are moving the wedding in two days’ time.”
Minjeong’s whole body froze. “What?”
“You are to wed in two days, make sure you are prepared.”
Minjeong’s grip in her fork tightened, willing it not to tremble. “How come I was never made aware of this?”
Her father waved her off, “You have little to no choice in the matter, child.”
Something within Minjeong snapped. “I have every choice in the matter for I am the one who will be pawned off like some broodmare cattle!”
“You watch your words with me, child!” The king slammed a palm against the table, causing a loud rattling of the utensils.
“No!”
“Minjeong.” Her mother’s stern warning only gave her the fuel she needed.
“I’m not doing it. I’m not marrying your prince because he isn’t the one I love.”
The king’s expression turned into a dangerous sneer as he pushed his chair back. He pointed a warning finger towards Minjeong. “You are to halt your tongue if you value your title and your upholding in this family.”
Minjeong stood up, not backing down from the challenge. “I never wanted any of those. I only wish to be happy, father. She makes me happy. Please.”
Her father’s face contorted into an ugly scowl, “Happiness? Such trivial things! You do realize the consequences of admitting to such vile actions? Banishment!”
“You threaten me with exile, father, yet the thought isn’t as abhorrent as staying here in the goddamn fortress you like to delude yourself as family.”
A loud whacking sound echoed inside the room. Minejong tasted copper in her mouth. The numbing pain on the side of her face bringing unbridled tears to her cheeks.
“Get out.” The king seethed. “You are no longer wanted here.”
Minjeong searches for her mother’s eyes, the queen mirroring the tears now free falling from the princess’ eyes yet that’s not what broke Minjeong’s heart the most. It’s the way her own mother averted her gaze, and chose silence.
And so, without sparing a backwards glance, Minjeong stepped out of the castle.
Fire. There was fire. Coalescing with the black inky sky and looking ominous with its orange hues and dark thick smoke.
Minjeong hefted the heavy dress and ran as fast as she could, ignoring the searing pain in her cheeks and the low hanging thin branches cutting through her skin as she breezed past them.
Terror gripped her whole body at the sight. The whole cottage was in blaze. Jimin’s cottage.
The stench of smoke gripping her lungs in a stifling heat brought her to her knees. Minjeong gasps for air as her whole body collapsed. She could only watch, heart breaking into tiny little pieces as the fire ate the whole cot. Her tears, despite the constant sting in her eyes, wouldn’t fall. She felt empty and numb to all of it.
Too late, too late, too late.
“Princess!”
Minjeong was in a daze. She doesn’t register Aeri’s voice calling for her until she’s helping her up.
“Princess, we need to get out of here now.”
Minjeong was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know. But she had to ask.
“Aeri, is—is she?”
Aeri nodded grimly, and the words out of her mouth was enough to make the tears finally fall.
“She’s fine. Jimin’s alive.“
epilogue
Minjeong tucked her short-cropped hair behind her ears, sorting through the letters the messenger delivered from earlier. She sees one from Yizhuo, but that’s not what caught her attention. Rather, an elegant envelope with a familiar sigil stamped on it to keep it close.
“Are they all from Yizhuo?”
Jimin’s voice rang through the tiny cot they are currently residing in. Far, far away from the homeland she used to call home.
“Not all of them.” Minjeong called back as she picked at a random edge of the parchment before opening it.
“Yeah?”
“There’s a letter from my mother. She’s writing to let us know that Aeri’s visiting to deliver something.”
It took many years before Minjeong could finally write back to her mother without the image of her turning away flashing in her mind. Haunting her dreams every night. Eventually, Minjeong’s anger melted into sadness, and dare she even say, pity. As she was reminded that her mother was once in her shoes. Their only difference is her mother never fought back. Perhaps… she never had something to fight for.
That thought alone was enough to put everything in perspective. Minjeong knew her mother was trying. They were both trying. And so gradually, she began letting her in.
Jimin snakes an arm behind her, placing her chin on her shoulder. Minjeong caresses the burned, now healed, forearm currently holding her as she hums thoughtfully. “Don’t tell me she’s sending another set of teacups.”
Minjeong could only huff, mildly appalled, “I love tea.”
“I know that, my love. But we already have ten sets of it I was just wondering how we would fit them in our shelves this time.”
Minjeong harrumphed yet her tone was light when she speaks, “One could only hope it’s not teacups, then.”
As if on cue, a knock against their door jolted them out of stupor.
“Come, that must be her.”
The letter was dated a few days ago so it’s highly likely that Aeri’s travel would be just in time as the letter would find her.
Jimin answered the door as she grabs a shoal hanging from their fraying couch before following Jimin outside, without a doubt already entertaining their guest.
“Your Highness.” Aeri, ever the gallant one, drops to one knee as soon as she saw Minjeong.
Minjeong could only place a gentle hand at Aeri’s shoulder as she motioned for her to stand, “General, please rise. I am no longer your princess. It would please me so if you’d stop doing that. And please, never call me that again. Minjeong is just fine.”
“As you wish, Your—Minjeong.” Aeri interrupted herself when she notices Minjeong’s stern glare. This had been a losing battle. Time and time again, Minjeong had tried to make Aeri drop the formalities only for her trials to be met in vain.
“That’s better. So, how do you fair? I heard you recently moved in with your wife.”
Aeri’s cheeks darkened, darting a subtle glare at Jimin’s widening smirk. “Yes. She truly misses you. I wish I could take her with me some other time.”
“Please do tell Yizhuo that the sentiments are returned. I miss her greatly.”
“I will, Minjeong.”
“What must mother want this time, General?”
“Oh!” Aeri held up a finger as she ran to the horse saddled with a huge bag. Minjeong watched in mild curiosity as the General carefully unstrapped it.
They both heard it. Before Aeri could even step further, the clanking of utensils and porcelains filled their ears.
Jimin groaned and Minjeong could only bark out a laugh at the sky.