Chapter Text
Crickets chirp as their mount’s hooves sink into the swamp’s mud-trodden flooring, pulling some of the earth with it, dirtied water taking its place with every step. Hyeju and Yerim find themselves in the Leechlands, a marsh between the Kingdom of Alteration, where they are fleeing from, and the Kingdom of Eden, the place they seek refuge. Apart from their steed’s movements, everything feels still. Even the wind feels lighter here. Eerie , Yerim thinks. A shiver runs down her spine. She feels like she’s being watched. “I’m really glad you’re here with me,” she says as they trudge their way through muddy, polluted water.
“You don’t have to say that,” her knight responds, stoic as ever.
A frown falls onto the princess’ lips. “You don’t have to say that either,” Yerim responds in retort, hands loosely wrapping around the fabrics atop of their horse’s head. “I like having you around, Hyeju,” the princess confesses. Although, the demeanour on her knight’s features doesn’t change, as if Yerim is bantering with the walls of her quarters.
“Ser Son, princess,” Hyeju reminds her, keeping their interactions as formal as they can possibly be in their situation. “Or, you can call me the ‘Black Death’,” she continues, puffing her chest out against the princess’ back as she recalls one unfortunate soldier from the Red army whispering that with their dying breath; greatsword severing their spine. “I like that one.”
Hyeju can’t see it but Yerim’s face screws up at the thought; memories that coincide with that title flood back to her. Her stomach churns. At times, she wonders how her knight got to be the way that she is; stoic, arrogant and downright brutal, especially with the impossibly large slab of metal she calls a sword. Yerim isn’t even sure it has a point. All she can see is blunt metal. Hyeju is simply skilled enough to use such an awkward weapon to its full, barbaric potential. The princess’ hand falls to the horse's mane, anything to distract her from what she knows her protector is capable of. She’s seen bodies crack, bend and break in ways that shouldn’t be possible by Ser Son’s hands. She knows it's very much possible.
“...speaking of names,” Yerim says, trying her best to switch the topic of conversation to something lighter, something that won’t make her want to throw up what little she had to eat this morning. “Why Shadowheart?” The princess asks in reference to the trusty ebony steed the two rode on. She hasn’t thought about it until now. However, every name comes with a reason; a story. She hopes to find one here.
“My parents named her, princess,” Hyeju replies.
“Oh!” Yerim chirps in response, eager to hear what kind of story that entails. Perhaps today will be the day she cracks the cold armour of Ser Son Hyeju. “Why did they name her, then?”
“I’m not sure, princess,” she responds.
A disappointing answer. However, in pursuit of finding out the meaning behind their mount’s name and getting a glimpse at the heart that she knows Ser Son possesses, Yerim presses her again. “Well, I’m sure that you can ask and find out another time when this is all over?” Yerim says in an inquisitive tone, optimism at the tip of her tongue.
“They’re dead, princess,” Hyeju replies; a short, bittersweet sentence that brings the princess back to the reality of the situation they’re in. It’s just them now.
“Ah,” is all that Yerim can muster in the wake of Hyeju’s statement. In the end, all she managed to do was dent Hyeju’s mental armour once more, all while taking another chunk out of her own, too. That’s something they shared after her kingdom fell, after the Reds came and took everything from her. Yerim can’t help but recall the last time she saw her own parents; the tears in their eyes as Ser Son forced her out of the room.
It seems like it was so long ago, yet it’s only been a few weeks since Ser Son had to drag Yerim from her parents side as Queen Kim Jungeun of the Kingdom of Dis sent the Red army to lay waste to Yerim’s home, Mirrored Fates, after taking a successful hold of the rest of the Kingdom of Alteration.
She remembers thrashing in Ser Son’s unfamiliar arms as she fought her best to stay with the rest of her family. Her father’s orders for Ser Son were to get Yerim to Heavenly Ascent in the Kingdom of Eden. After all, the two kingdoms have been allied for quite some time.
Queen Kim Jiwoo and Queen Consort Jeon Heejin have been plotting with Yerim’s parents about how they would deal with a Red invasion on Mirrored Fates if it were to happen. Sadly, they didn’t plan quickly enough.
Red soldiers had already begun to storm the walls of Mirrored Fates as Yerim and her newfound protector made their way out of the castle. That’s when Yerim learned that her knight was no human with a weapon in her hands. She’s more akin to a monster. The list of bodies she saw that day were unfathomable. People she had known her entire life, people that she had never seen until the light left their eyes, and the semblance of Red soldiers smashed to pieces by the knight that had been dubbed the ‘Black Death’. The soldiers were only recognisable by the colour of their armour, and even that had been soaked in blood.
That was the trail that Ser Son Hyeju, the person she entrusted her life to, left behind. Just blood, flesh and bone.
Hyeju brings Shadowheart to an abrupt stop, as if it was a knife cutting the awkward silence in two. Before Yerim can make a questioning statement, Hyeju brings her hand to the princess’ mouth, holding her silent. The place is deathly quiet, so much so that Yerim’s own breathing dominates her soundscape. The same hand that covered her lips now points deeper into the swamp. Yerim realises why her knight brought them to a halt. In the middle of the plague ridden water, there is a discoloured head gurgling on the cloudy marsh water, its eyes staring right back into her own.
Hyeju covers the princess’ lips again before she lets out a fearful wail, not for the princess’ wellbeing, but because their survival depends on it. It’s too late, though. Hyeju knows that the moment more waterlogged beings rise to the surface, disfigured limbs on show as they begin to make their move. “Stay here. Don’t move a muscle,” Hyeju orders. She slots her great-wolf crafted helmet onto her head, unsheathing the so-called blade on her back as she hops off Shadowheart’s back, dirt splattering everywhere once she lands. The knight turns her back on her princess after deducing that the only threat to her life now comes in the form of the horde of drowned undead screeching as they rush towards them.
An exhale leaves the iron-clad soldier’s lips as she readies herself; persona cool as ever as she wastes no time in swinging her sword at the unfortunate being that’s first in line for her wrath. Steel connects with its body; the impact alone is enough to lay waste to the creature. However, that would be too light for Ser Son. She hits it with enough force that it splits in two, the undead’s torso is sent spiralling back from where it came, taking down another one of its kind as the lower half of its body falls to the floor. The princess backs up into Shadowheart’s rear as the creature’s innards dilute the murky water in front of them. Yerim’s hand immediately covers her own mouth and nose in an attempt to sate her stomach as the urge to vomit at the gruesomeness of the scene in front of her takes over.
Although, she can’t look away, either. Not as her knight’s boot finds itself lodged in another drowned’s chest; a disgustingly loud squelch sounds as she makes a dent in its skin. Dark, almost sludge-like blood spews from its lips as it falls to the water with a splash, never to rise again. Hyeju doesn’t have time to celebrate as another is quickly on her tail. She swings her sword for a second time. This time, it’s the enormous fuller of the sword that collides with her enemy’s skull. Yerim hears the crack of every bone in the creature’s head; a cloud of blood squirting out from what used to be the drowned’s brain. The blunt force trauma Hyeju subjected it to stops it in its tracks, killing it on impact.
The pair of drowned undead left standing are staggered, confused as to how one human can amass such a feat as taking on their entire horde by themselves. Hyeju spits into the now blood saturated water before her fist collides with her body, banging her chestplate three times as a means of building the adrenaline in her body as she waits for their retaliation. That’s the moment that Yerim became acutely aware of the fact that this is a sport for her knight –– she’s enjoying herself. The princess can’t see her face and she doesn’t need to. She can see the devilish grin upon her knight’s lips through her skull. She’s truly in her element.
They dash at Hyeju at the same time in an attempt to catch her off guard. Until now, their attacks have been uncoordinated; sluggish. This time around, things are different. However, the result will still be the same, washed aside and discarded from the realm of the living in Hyeju’s wake. The small amulet that Hyeju wears around her neck begins to glow a dark red as her gauntlet contorts around one of the undead’s throat; metal heating till the point that the water dweller’s skin begins to sizzle in her grasp.
A rarity throughout each of the kingdoms, these amulets, known as artefacts, grant the user an elemental power dictated by the nature of their soul. Said artefacts are reserved for the greatest warriors of each Kingdom, allowing them to reach even greater heights, putting a bigger gap between them and a normal soldier. Ser Son was granted one by Yerim’s late father, the King of Alteration. Yerim isn’t entirely sure when it happened. However, it was definitely enough time for her to master its usage. Yerim’s hand clutches around the artefact she keeps in her pocket; one her knight stole from Mirrored Fates’ armoury during their escape from the Kingdom. She has yet to activate it, let alone master it like Ser Son has.
Yerim’s lunch almost resurfaces as the undead’s head boiled until it pops in her knight’s grasp, blood splattering over Ser Son, giving another unintended coat to the red accent her midnight black armour has adorned over hundreds, if not thousands of battles. The smell of burning, sodden flesh is enough for Yerim to finally separate her vision from the ongoing battle as she cowers behind Shadowheart’s body as her knight finishes off the last target. She doesn’t need to see how it happens to know it’s as brutal as the last. The sound of three sections of meat hitting the water for the final time is enough to leave a lasting impression on Yerim as she hears the damp footsteps of her knight returning to her.
I should be used to it by now , Yerim thinks to herself as Hyeju removes her helmet. She isn’t sure she ever will be –– not when it’s as brutal as her knight likes to be. “Let me get that,” she speaks as soon as Ser Son’s face is visible to her again; blood smeared across the bridge of her nose, blood that was not her own. Yerim rips a piece off her own garment with the knife Ser Son gave her before tending to it. Surprisingly, she doesn’t resist. “Is it that fun?” she can’t help but ask, doing her best not to inhale the smell of rotted skin on her armour.
“Is what that fun?” Hyeju replies as she sheathes her sword once more.
Meanwhile, Yerim’s full attention is placed upon her knight and the specks of blood that still line her skin. “Taking away a life,” she corrects herself as she brings herself to stand on her tiptoes, making sure she rids her knight of the creature’s thick, curdled blood.
“Do you think leading a country will be fun?” Hyeju asks in retort, now returning her eye contact. Hyeju sees the visible confusion on Yerim’s face as she finishes her task.
“I don’t think it will be fun by any means… but it is a role I have long since accepted, now more than ever,” Yerim replies. Her thoughts are soon occupied with thoughts of her atop of her family’s rite; her rite, the Mirrored throne.
“Then you must understand more than anyone what it feels like to be raised with one goal in mind? Sometimes, we’re not given a choice. Sometimes, that is simply what we’re born to do,” the knight speaks, her tone as cold as it normally was. Yet, this time around, her words seem to cut deeper into Yerim’s heart. “You were born to sit on the throne, I was born to die for it,” she finishes, turning and patting the saddle on Shadowheart’s back. “It’s about time we got a move on. Sun will set soon and we need to get out of this wretched bog before then.”
Yerim can’t find it in herself to counter her knight’s comments. Who is she to tell a soldier how to feel; that their purpose is far more than to die for the throne, especially in the midst of a war, one that she didn’t start. A simple ‘okay’ is all that she can muster as she allowed Ser Son to lift her onto Shadowheart’s back, only to feel her weight shortly after. Long after their conversation ends, through the entirety of the journey throughout the marsh, as the sky begins to bleed orange, she thinks about it. She thinks about the words her knight spoke, the look in her eyes and the strength behind her chords. Ser Son meant every word that she said. Yerim was born a jewel, one perfectly shaped to sit upon the finest display in the land. Ser Son, on the other hand, was born a weapon, one forged solely to relieve others of their mortal duties until the same inevitably happens to her. The thought cuts at her heart more than she would like to admit.
For once, her knight is the more vocal of the two as two hanging torches come into view. “Civilisation,” Hyeju thinks out loud, bringing Shadowheart to a slow trot as she analyses the situation. There is one building, a few mounts and enough laughter to rival Mirrored Fates’ dining room on a good night. “A tavern,” she summarises as Shadowheart comes to a stop. As much as she tries to avoid other souls, they need to rest, and this is likely the only establishment in tonight’s travelling distance. If push comes to shove, Hyeju has no quarrels with silencing the place for her princess’ sake.
Hyeju taps her on the shoulder. “Do you remember your name?” She asks, dropping her title in public. After all, anybody could be listening.
“Yes,” Yerim answers. “Sally, Ser So–– Ser Olivia,” Yerim corrects herself as she turns around to face her knight. “Are we going in?”
“Mhm,” Hyeju confirms as she pulls the hood of Yerim’s cloak over her head, making sure that her features won’t be recognisable if anybody takes a good look at her. If they do, Hyeju has a plan for them. “It’s either that or we keep going through the night, something I don’t trust in these woods… I’d rather take my chances with humans,” she finishes before she puts one leg over the other, her boots landing on the dirt pathway below. She’s proficient at dispatching humans. She isn’t familiar enough with these woods to know what could be waiting for them. Hyeju prefers the enemy she knows.
Yerim takes a hold of her knight’s outstretched hand as she helps her off Shadowheart’s back. The last time they ventured into a tavern like this, it was crawling with soldiers of the Red army. It wasn’t long until the wood finished walls turned red. “I don’t mind sticking out another night, Ser Olivia,” Yerim says as her feet touch the makeshift road. As if on cue, her head felt light, her body even lighter, lucky for Ser Son’s presence as she steps in to make sure she wouldn’t topple over.
“I don’t think you can,” Hyeju says as she holds her arm against the small of her princess’ back as they make their way towards the tavern, the sounds of the rowdy bunch inside getting louder with every step. As much as Hyeju doesn’t want to enter, she recognises that they have to. While she’s used to living her life on the road, this isn’t the first war of her short lifetime, the princess is not. “Rest tonight and we’ll continue on the morrow,” she continues before tying Shadowheart’s halter to one of the posts in front of the establishment. “And remember, you’re a guest from the Kingdom of Dis going to visit Heavenly Ascent in the Kingdom of Eden for the winter. Got that?”
“Yes, Ser Olivia,” Yerim answers. She’s in no position to argue with her knight over what’s best for her in such conditions. Ser Son knows best, and that is that.
“Good, Sally. Good,” Hyeju says before she presses her hand against the tavern’s door and pushes it open.
Former warriors, sellswords and bannerless soldiers are all that Hyeju sees the moment she opens the door. The worst type of company , she thinks to herself as she puts an arm around the princess’ body. She can never be too careful. Not with this crowd, anyway. They would sell you out for an extra meal, a few extra gold coins or even worse, they would do it just for the fun of it. This is not a safe environment for her princess to be in. Perhaps Hyeju should have taken her suggestion and kept riding throughout the night.
The loud music, the laughter and the conversation all come to an immediate halt the moment that the knight and the cloaked girl enter the establishment. Yerim can feel the tension; she could probably cut it with the knife that Ser Son gave her. She walks side by side with her knight as they make their way towards the person that seems likely to be in charge of this place. She looks friendly , Yerim thinks as she takes a seat on one of the barkeep’s stools, leaning against the table top as she waits for her knight to make contact. Yerim isn’t trusted with that sort of thing, and for good reason.
“Got room for two?” Hyeju questions as she leans towards the barkeep. “Two beds in one room, that is,” she corrects herself. Separate rooms won’t do. She can’t let the princess out of her sight.
“I don’t run that part of the business, actually,” the barkeep says before a sheepish grin pulls on either side of her lips. “My partner does. I’ll go get her for you,” the brunette explains before she almost takes the door to the backroom off its hinges as she rushes off to find her partner in crime.
That’s why she was so excited , Hyeju thinks before she hears a guttural roar of the name ‘Haseul’ come from the backroom. It seems that they aren’t the only ones that heard it, either. Everyone’s attention shoots to the front of the tavern, as if the knight and her cloaked associate didn’t bring enough attention their way. Hyeju notices a new presence taking up residence on the stools next to her own; two of the bannerless soldiers she identified earlier. She doesn’t like this one bit.
“Nice helmet you got there,” the closest stranger says as she leans against the bartop and takes a swig of the brew in her tankard. “Looks familiar, though,” she follows up; a coy smirk on her lips as her gaze meets Hyeju’s. She’s meddling. It’s not hard to tell. “The girl you’re hiding,” she says before she turns her vision to the princess that does her best to hide her features more than before. “She wouldn’t happen to be Princess Yerim of the Kingdom of Alteration––”
Before the bannerless soldier can finish her question, Hyeju closes the distance between their bodies; their faces side by side, the knight’s hidden blade firmly pressing against the slant of the stranger’s neck. “Another word and it’ll be your last.” She isn’t playing games, not while Yerim’s life is at risk.
If the entire tavern’s attention wasn’t on them before, it certainly is the moment that the stanger’s assumed associate gets involved. “Oh Sua, you idiot!” she says as shoots up from her stool, hands well above her head to show the knight that they don’t mean any harm. “We’re on your side, I promise,” she continues, her hands shaking as she slowly reaches into her pocket in order to reveal the Mirrored Fates coat of arms. “I–It’s a pleasure to be in your presence!” She says before bowing her head. Not in the knight’s direction, but the princess’.
“You too?” Hyeju asks the more meddling of the two. Sua, she assumes. A slight ‘mhm’ is all she gets in response; arrogance still rife in her demeanour. It seems that the one bowing before Yerim has more concern for Sua’s life than Sua did for her own. “I need proof before I let you go.” She isn’t taking any chances. They could’ve killed a soldier and stole the Mirrored Fates coat of arms from their rotting corpse.
“Everyone here is, Ser Son,” Sua confirms as she reaches into her own pocket and reveals the coat of arms for the pair to see. “We’re the revolutionary army… or what’s left of it,” she says before she feels Hyeju’s blade lift from her skin, not a scratch left in its wake. Now that she’s free to move, Sua brings herself to kneel in front of the princess. “It’s a pleasure to be in your presence again, my princess.”
Again , Hyeju thinks. She’s been to court before. Not many had the privilege of seeing Princess Yerim face to face. “May I?” the princess asks in her loyal protector’s direction. It’s been so long since she’s been referred to as princess by anyone that wasn’t Ser Son. She wants to greet them; to instil hope that the Choi Dynasty will live on.
“Go ahead, princess,” Hyeju permits before turning her attention to the crowd that begins to swarm around them. “But don’t get any closer. That goes for all of you, too. One step forward and I will assume you mean ill intent to your future ruler.” Once again, Hyeju’s chest is puffed out in pride as she takes to her feet, creating a barrier between the princess and anyone who dares to harm her. This wasn’t on her list of activities for the night, that’s for sure.
Yerim’s throat swells up as she turns to face the horde of loyal supporters in the tavern; men and women who risk their lives on a daily basis to see a future with herself upon the throne. “Thank you,” is all that Yerim gets out before tears begin to well in her ducts, choking her up and threatening to spill onto her cheeks.
Instinctively, Hyeju takes a step closer to her princess. “Are you alright?” She questions, only to get a nod in response. She’s come a long way since they met. It’s clear that this isn’t the same girl Hyeju isn’t ordered to drag across the realm to Heaven’s Ascent. She’s learned to rely on herself a little more since then.
“I…I don’t even know what to say except thank you…” The princess says before she follows in her knight’s footsteps in standing up from her stool. Unlike Ser Son’s stance, Yerim brought herself to her knees in front of those that dub themselves the revolutionary army. “Thank you for believing in me… for believing in our cause… and believing that justice must be brought to those that have wronged us.” Her words come out pained, especially on the latter end of her sentiment. Her head falls just a tad; sniffles are heard as tears begin to flow down her porcelain skin, falling onto the hardwood floor below. “Thank you for continuing to fight,” she says as she raises her head to see her people’s faces once more. It’s been so long since she’s seen such a thing, and will likely be even longer until she sees it again. “I’ll keep fighting, too. A Queen must fight with her people, and that’s what I’ll do to reclaim what’s ours.”
That’s enough to fully grasp Sua’s attention. She likes what she’s hearing, and by the looks of things, her associate does, too. Colour them impressed. It seems like their next ruler has a backbone. That’s all they need to know in order to fight for her.
Yerim and her family aren’t the only people to have lost things since the beginning of the Red invasion. Her people have been forced from their homes; tossed aside, never to be thought about again. Their life’s work; their happiness, their love. All of that has been taken from everyone inside the walls of Mirrored Fates. She won’t stop until it’s returned to everyone in this establishment, to everyone that believed in her. “Again, all I can say is… thank you.”
A roar erupts from the crowd as Yerim’s speech comes to an end. It was the loudest cheer of the night. However, to Ser Son’s surprise, they keep their distance, respecting their princess’ safety as they begin to sing once more. Life has been restored into the premises and the credit is solely
“You did well,” Hyeju says as she kneels in front of her princess, a hand extending in front of her while the other wipes away the remaining droplet on her cheek. “Savour it, while you can,” the knight continues as she help her to her feet, dusting off her clothing once she’s standing. “It’s going to be a long road.”
Yerim feels a sombre feeling on her heart, one she can’t help but wear on her sleeve as she accepts her knight’s hand. She doesn’t have anything else to say. She’s said all she needed to for now. She agrees with the woman clad in steel. They both need the rest for the journey ahead.
As soon as Hyeju verifies that her princess is okay, she turns towards the backroom once more, about to shout for the barkeep again. However, when she looks, there is an unfamiliar face waiting for her. “You must be Haseul, then,” she says as she leans on the table top of the bar. “Have you got a room with two beds?”
Hyeju is met with a blank stare; eyes open as wide as she’s ever seen as the barkeep’s partner ogles at her, or more specifically, at the uncloaked royal figure in her presence. “Ahem,” Hyeju sounds, clearing her throat as an attempt to get the attention of the woman with the bobbed haircut.
That isn’t enough, either. The woman still looks at Yerim with a blank expression. That’s when the barkeep returns, bashing the woman that stood beside her on the back of the head with the tankard she’s holding before she hands it off to a member of the revolutionary army. “Oi, you’re gawking at the princess. Show some respect!” the barkeep says with a tut.
The woman behind the bar suddenly snaps out of her daze; a fierce flush dawning her face as soon as she realises she’s been staring at the princess for an uncomfortably long time. “Sorry, your highness!” Haseul says, bowing before her, only to smack her forehead off the bartop. The barkeep sighs as she watches her partner massage her forehead, embarrassment prominent on her expression. “I heard from Kahei here that you’re looking for a room for two…?”
“Yeah,” Hyeju responds. “A room with two beds.”
Haseul gives her a look that tells Hyeju all she needs to know. “Sadly, we don’t have a room with two beds… but we can move a bed into a room with a bed already in it if you’d like?” the housekeeper replies with a slight chuckle to her tone. This isn’t the type of establishment that a pair comes to and opts to sleep in separate beds. It’s usually quite the opposite.
The knight’s vision pans to the girl she’s sworn to protect, catching her mid yawn. Rest is calling. They don’t have time to be moving furniture. “It's fine,” she accepts. “Any room will do.” Hyeju will sacrifice her own comfort to get her companion into bed quicker. Hyeju is used to uncomfortable conditions. The princess is not.
“That sounds great,” Haseul says before she takes another look at Yerim. “I’ll get clean clothes for you, Your Highness. With all due respect, you look like you’ve seen better days.”
One might lose their head for speaking that way to the princess of a different kingdom. However, Yerim laughs at the housekeeper’s comments. She’s trailing week old mud along the bottom of her robes, after all. “You can say that again,” the princess says as she accesses her garments once more. This is easily the dirtiest she’s ever allowed herself to be. “Swamps aren’t exactly my forte.”
Haseul’s lips only curl even more at the princess’ comments. “We actually have a bath in our personal quarters. You’re free to use it, if you’d like?” The housekeeper questions. It isn’t something they offer to customers on a regular basis. Though, the princess of the Kingdom of Alteration isn’t exactly a regular customer.
This time, it’s Yerim’s turn to look at her knight. She can see the bags under her eyes. Even if she won’t admit it, she can see that Ser Son is exhausted, too. She doesn’t want to feel like a burden to her protector. “I’m okay! Maybe tomorrow before we leave, if that’s okay?” the princess asks. The question is more so aimed towards the woman in armour than the woman that is stuffing a pillow.
“Yes,” Hyeju confirms. A bath sounds quite nice indeed. “I’m okay with that.”
“Great! I’ll be back when the room is ready,” Haseul says before taking her leave through the backroom.
Hyeju settles with her back against the bartop before she feels a tankard brush off her shoulder, a familiar, smug grin aimed in her direction. “Have a drink with us, Ser Son,” the revolutionary she now knows as Sua proposes. “You look like you need it.”
“I’ll have to pass,” Hyeju responds as she feels the weight of the princess’ body shift onto her own. She’s tired, there’s no mistaking that. The knight’s duty of care to the princess is much more compelling than a drink with strangers she doesn’t trust. The Mirrored Fates coat of arms only means so much to her. It doesn’t gain her entire trust. Far from it.
The soldier looks at her with pleading eyes. “C’mon, one for the road?” She questions further. “I’d love to hear the kind of stories a warrior like you would have to tell.” Every soldier has their stories. Ser Son has probably seen it all. That interests Sua more than she will admit.
It’s then that Sua’s associate pipes up once more. “Sua, you’re disturbing them. They just want to rest. Can’t you see they’ve had a long day?” she questions. While Hyeju might not necessarily trust her, she’s getting in her good books. Sua, on the other hand, is doing the opposite.
Sua rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I’m trying to get her into bed, Haram,” she says before turning to face her. “That’s your job, ain’t it?” She adds; eyebrows wiggling as she shines her smug little grin once more.
Shortly after, Sua is bombarded with whacks from her partner’s staff. “IDIOT SUA! KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!” She says as her face lights on fire with embarrassment.
Haram is her name , Hyeju notes. A mage, it seems. Interesting. Mages are rare to see. As far as she knows, the Kingdom of Alteration didn’t have many before the invasion. Haram might be the last amongst their ranks. That information doesn’t change her mind, though. “I’ll have to pass on that, too. Got somebody to take care of. I’ve heard she’s very important,” Hyeju says before turning to look at her princess again. To her surprise, she found out that Haram’s features aren’t the only ones on fire. She wonders what happened to bring that on. “Are you alright, princess?” Hyeju asks, ignoring the miniature argument between the revolutionaries closest to her.
Yerim snaps out of her daze as soon as her knight breaks her line of sight with Sua and Haram. “Yes, Ser Son?” she questions, unaware of what she’s just been asked.
“I asked if you’re alright?” Hyeju repeats, her gaze comfortably fixed upon the princess’.
“Oh,” Yerim says. “Yes, I’m alright,” she confirms before she sees her saving grace; a woman with a bobbed haircut appearing from behind the knight’s large stature.
“Room’s ready!” Haseul says as she places the keys into the knight’s hand before sauntering off, expecting the pair to follow along behind her.
Hyeju sees this as her way out of the situation she found herself in. Her hand tightens around the set of keys as her other hand falls firmly against the princess’ back, making sure that she’s following beside her. Sua and Haram are too busy fighting with one another to notice their disappearance.
The room they’re given is, for lack of a better word, small. It’s to be expected, after all. It’s a tavern in the middle of the woods. People seldom venture there in the first place, and if they did, they weren’t looking for a place to rest. Any other royal would scoff at the lodging they’ve been offered. However, Yerim isn’t like the others. After everything they’ve been through, after weeks of sleeping in the exposed, cold outside, Yerim wants nothing more than to jump into bed that’s already made for her.
Just as she is about to do exactly that, Hyeju’s arm wraps around her waist midair, bringing her back down to the ground. “Not just yet, princess,” she’s forced to say. She understands the princess’ need for sleep. However, she doubts that Haseul would appreciate having to clean mucky bedsheets in the morning.
“Oh, that’s right!” the housekeeper says as she opens up the wardrobe within the room, revealing the extra garments and makeshift bed supplies she brought with her. “A night dress and clean clothing for the princess, a pillow and a bedsheet for the knight,” Haseul says as she gestures towards the assortment of fabrics. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Her only goal is to be as accommodating as possible. It isn’t every day that your princess and her knight shows up at your doorstep.
Hyeju thinks for a moment but nothing comes to mind. “A night of rest is all I can ask for.”
“A night of rest, we can definitely provide that!” Haseul replies, happy to be of service.
As if on cue, Kahei opens the door to their quarters with her back, two tankards held within her grasp. “For the esteemed guests!” She says as she places them on top of the nightstand. “You looked quite thirsty, and as a barkeep, I would rather die than see a guest go thirsty in our establishment, especially guests of your stature.”
This time, it’s Haseul’s turn to thump Kahei on the arm. “They can’t drink, Kahei! They’ve got to rest! Can’t you see how tired they look?” At this point, the outlines of their eyes have gone purple with exhaustion. The longer they’re standing here, the longer they’re keeping them from their beds. All of that will add up to a negative experience.
“Haseul, honey,” Kahei says as she looks at her partner, failing to keep her laughter in check. “It’s water, you idiot.” Her smile only grows with that sentiment. Haseul is definitely her idiot. “We don’t have anything other than tankards here, though. Sorry about that! People don’t usually come here for water.”
“No, no, no! You’re perfectly fine! This is more than we can ask for.” Yerim says as she takes hold of the barkeep’s hands, something that immediately catches her off guard. This is the most comfort that Yerim has felt since the day before the attack. Nothing could upset her now. “Thank you so much,” she says before squeezing the girl’s hands. They were much rougher than her own, yet still nothing in comparison to Ser Son’s. “Kahei, right?”
A gleaming smile shines across Kahei’s face. “Yes, Your Highness! That’s me!” She replies in a bashful tone. The princess remembered her name. It’s a small detail. However, to a person like Kahei, to somebody who isn’t nearly as important as the figures she shares the room with, it means everything.
Yerim squeezes her hand once more. “Thank you so much, both of you,” she says before gesturing in the housekeeper’s direction, leaving the warmth of Kahei’s fingertips behind to hold her partner’s hand this time around. “I promise, your hospitality in these trying times won’t be forgotten – if not for me, then for the many of our people that you house here.” Once again, she can feel tears beginning to well up behind her ducts. This time, she’s determined to keep her composure. She can’t cry twice in one night. “Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you both.”
The housekeeper tucks her hair behind her ear as soon as the princess lets go of her hands. “It’s our pleasure, Your Highness,” Haseul says before bowing before her future ruler once more, making sure not to injure her forehead any further this time around. “You’re adored around these parts. I fear you’d have a harder time finding somebody who wouldn’t do the same for you.”
“Well, I think you’d have a harder time finding anybody else around here,” Kahei jokes. These parts are desolate. However, civilization, once you found it, is surprisingly good company. Haseul and Kahei have lived here for years, customers steadily coming and going, each leaving little fuss. The only problems they have are when the Reds come by from time to time, making sure they aren’t doing anything wrong, which they are, they just know how to get away with it. Stowing away the rightful Queen of Fates is certainly high up the list of rules broken. “It looks like you both need some rest, though. If you need anything, we’ll only be a shout away,” Kahei says as she makes her way to the open door frame
“Mhm. We’ll help you as best as we can,” Haseul says, following in her partner’s footsteps. “Goodnight, Your Highness! Goodnight, Ser Son! I hope you both sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Haseul! Goodnight, Kahei! I hope sleep favours both of you, too,” Yerim replies with an eager smile on her face. The sentiment of saying goodnight has always been important to her. It’s a tradition she got from her grandmother during her early years. Saying goodnight means a formal ending to the day; a positive sign for the next to come. She likes that.
Hyeju offers the pair a nod of solidarity before the door closes behind them. She can see a physical weight fall off the princess’ shoulders as she goes to sit on the bed. “Not ‘till you get changed,” Hyeju says as she stops her again. “I’ll turn around for you.” Normally, she would stand outside the princess’ door and wait for her to change that way. However, they don’t have the luxury of that today. Not when there Are so many people in close proximity; people she is yet to trust.
Once again, Yerim’s face looks as if it’s about to burst into flames. “But…”
“But?” Hyeju replies.
“Nothing,” Yerim says as she moves into the corner of the room that housed the wardrobe. She’s embarrassed about changing in the same room as her protector. As soon as the knight turns her back on Yerim, she begins to remove her own, grimy fabrics. As she does so, she notices that Hyeju started taking off her armour. A thought goes through her mind as she watches the steel fall from her body with a thud. She’s never seen her knight without her armour. She wondered what sort of body she has; what her skin looked like, if it’s scarred or not. Before she can think any further, Yerim begins to pull the nightdress over her body, already feeling a wave of comfort wash over her, feeling free from the confines of her tight outwear. “Done! You can turn around now.”
The princess’ confirmation coincides with Hyeju’s gauntlets hitting the wooden floor below. As funny as it seems, she’s oftentimes more comfortable with her armour on. Without it, she feels weak and exposed. If she could sleep soundly with it on, she would. She turns her head around to see the sight of the princess sitting atop of her bed. “Ready for bed, then?” Hyeju questions.
“Mhm,” Yerim hums in response before a worrying question comes to mind. But you’re not going to sleep on the floor, are you…?”
“As opposed to where…?” Hyeju replies with a question of her own. She isn’t planning on leaving her princess alone in a room. That’s a bad idea waiting to happen.
As if Yerim’s features couldn’t get any warmer, she scoots to the corner of her bed, making room for her knight. “You can sleep here, if you’d like,” Yerim suggests, embarrassment rife in her tone. In her eyes, her knight deserves to be as comfy as she is.
Hyeju considers her offer for a moment before she shakes her head. “I’m fine where I am,” she confirms as she places her sword against the door in such a way that nobody would be able to enter the room. Not even if they had the key. Part of Hyeju wanted to take the spot on her bed. However, if anyone got word that they shared a bed, the princess’ virtue would be called into question. She isn’t going to put her in that position. She knows better.
“At least try to rest, okay?” Yerim adds with an obvious pout on her lips. “We’re safe here.”
“You’re never too safe, princess. Never get too comfortable,” Hyeju responds as she does one last check to make sure everything is secure and that nobody would be barging in on them in the middle of the night.
Yerim’s pout turns into a frown. Although Ser Son is usually right about this sort of thing, the thought of anyone they met in the tavern betraying her stings her heart. Is that what it means to be a ruler? To have a sword ready at everyone’s back, just in case they turn one on you? It’s sad , Yerim thinks to herself as she settles into bed.
Hyeju blows out the candle; darkness engulfing the pair with only the moonlight shining through the glass window to illuminate tiny pockets of the room. The knight gets as comfortable as she can on the floor; pulling her bedsheet up to her chest, head resting upon the pillow that Haseul stuffed just for her. It certainly beats sleeping against a tree stump, that’s for sure.
“Hy– Ser Son…?” Yerim calls out, almost slipping up once more.
“Yes, princess?”
“Thank you, too,” Yerim mumbles against her pillowcase. “Thank you most of all. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” The obvious answer is that she would be dead. Without her knight, Yerim certainly would have died before she made it out of the Kingdom of Alteration.
“You don’t have to say that,” Hyeju says as she stares at the ceiling above them, able to hear the ruckus from the main hall if she listens close enough. “I’m just doing my job.” The last mission Hyeju was given as a member of the Mirrored Fates Kingsgard was to protect the princess with her life. She intends on keeping that oath until the bitter end. She will protect Yerim and right her wrongs. This time around, she will be able to protect those important to her if it’s the last thing she’s able to do.
“Job or no job,” Yerim sounds out before a yawn forces its way out of her mouth. “I’m thankful for you. I always will be.” No matter what happens after the two make it to Heavenly Ascent, Yerim will make sure that her knight’s battles will come to an end. She deserves better.
A semblance of a smile creeps across Hyeju’s lips, hidden from the world as she lies on the floor, shrouded in darkness. “The pleasure is mine,” she replies, only to get silence in return. “Princess?” Hyeju follows up. This time, the silence is broken, not by words, but by a light hum escaping the princess’ lips. She’s fast asleep. Her snores are enough to tell Hyeju that she’s already relaxing herself in the comfort of her bedsheets. She feels safe here with Hyeju. That’s all she needs. Hyeju closes her own eyes as soon as she’s certain that she wouldn’t stir awake anytime soon. “Goodnight, princess,” are the last words spoken before sleep caught a hold of Hyeju, too; the weight of her responsibility finally lifting, if only for a few hours.