Chapter Text
There was nothing beautiful about Luka. Nothing. Hyuna’s eyes wished to gouge themselves out at his very image. Nothing beautiful.
Hyuna had scoffed, and rightfully so—a mercenary, a dirty bounty hunter, and a commoner being chosen to guard the prince? How ridiculous, how insane, and how treasonous to even think about. Yet, Hyuna had been chosen to protect him. She and Hyun-woo suspected it was a con when a royal messenger came to their tavern. It should have felt like a hand from the heavens. Even Dewy was envious of the riches this one task brought, and Dewy only ever accepted jobs that amused him rather than for the amount.
Hyuna wished she could reject the job, as she normally specialized in slaying beasts, yet she also desired the reward. Hyun-woo and she had grown up in an orphanage where there just wasn’t enough of anything. Hyuna often had scarcity paranoia when it came to money. The only thing that she really splurged on was cheap booze. It was cheap, and it also made her forget her fears.
She had always been in the older sister role—the protector role. And now she would have to protect a stranger and a noble. It felt strange. Killing monsters for strangers was different from directly protecting them. It was out of her comfort zone. A few people made their way into Hyuna’s heart and stayed there. Many flirted with her at the tavern, yet Hyuna only spared a conversation to get a drink.
The only knowledge she held about the prince was through rumors.
Prince Luka, although that was his title, was the son of a concubine. A bastard, that's what he was. A half-common-blood bastard. Yet Luka was more than that; he was also a failure. Born underweight, sick, and fragile. He was the only bastard from His Majesty’s seed that wasn't executed upon birth. Everyone had expected Luka to perish, so His Majesty didn’t bother killing him. A small mercy. Yet Luka survived until she was old, while Queen Nigeh had produced no male heirs. It was only when King Heperu gave up on the Queen that Luka was given the title of Prince.
The cause of needing a bodyguard was an assassination attempt on the sick prince’s life. It was weeks after the Queen had gone mad, attempting to murder one of her daughters.
It was no wonder the vain woman went mad. The power and influence of a queen who couldn't even produce an heir were non-existent. It was a known fact that His Majesty had left the marriage bed after the seventh failure.
It was almost a joke to even the commoners how pitiful the imperial family had become. Hyuna knew better than to focus on others' lives, but even she'd heard of his beauty.
A god’s beauty, they said, and now Hyuna was in front of this god. Empty golden eyes met hers. A small nod was the first greeting he ever gave her. Now at the palace, she was informed properly about the assassination attempt. An assassin had infiltrated the prince’s room at midnight and almost succeeded. Luka’s left side was punctured in an attempt to end his life. The assassin, according to the prince, had escaped through the window when the guards rushed in.
It was always so silent when guarding Luka, unlike the regular joy of the tavern. Hyuna almost missed Dewy’s stupid jokes and Isaac’s scoldings. From time to time, he’d look back at her and smile slightly, but Hyuna wasn't sure if it was a smile.
Soon, Hyuna would accompany him to her first social gathering.
“We’ll only visit for a greeting,” Prince Luka whispered to her beforehand, as if to calm Hyuna down. She wasn't nervous about it, but when Luka leaned in and softly whispered, she was. The air he let out felt cold, and his words were empty. He’d still smile graciously.
He wore humble clothing, unbefitting of the only prince. A white undershirt with a simple silver vest and black leggings. Hyuna followed him diligently, as she was recently taught. Not too close, but not too far from his shadow, and not a word from her.
The roses in the imperial garden had bloomed and were fragrant. One of the Seventh Princesses had arranged a garden party. Luka had been invited just the day before the event, but he still decided to attend.
Luka stopped when he reached his destination. A raven-haired girl, properly dressed as a princess. Her expression wasn't too fond, but it didn't stop Luka’s smile.
“You are not my brother,” she said, as if trying to be cold, but Luka’s smile remained. The anger ceased from her face into mockery as her eyes met Hyuna. “I wonder… ‘Brother,’ are the imperial knights not good enough to guard you? Or is it that you are not good enough for them?” A sharp tone that Luka dodged.
“I apologize. I don't understand what you mean, dear sister. I simply came to greet you, but I must insist that my guard is very capable of protecting me. Do not fret for my well-being and keep ‘our’ mother in your prayers instead.” It was a flicker that Hyuna saw—a flicker of the truest amusement someone as empty as Luka could muster.
A slap so sharp, Luka took a step back from it. The princess huffed hasty breaths, unable to collect herself. The Queen going mad was common knowledge around the castle, yet no one ever dared say it. Only ever implying, Hyuna noticed.
Hyuna followed Luka as they left after some beautifully hideous goodbyes to the princess who trapped him.
Hyuna had stayed in the castle for about three weeks now, and she felt constantly suffocated. She’d come to notice Luka wasn't respected as a prince. Even the servants' servitude was lackluster, incompetent, and backhanded. Hyuna, taking a leap of faith, decided to just ask something upfront. No implications or sneaky rubbish.
“Why was everyone alright with her backhanding you? I understand she's a princess, but if His Majesty were to die, you’d...” Hyuna’s tongue ceased, and she became so used to the palace’s manners that she developed a sense of discreetness.
Luka stopped his soft hums and looked back, his angelically sculpted face not fitting the turn of the head he made. Slow and crooked.
“I’d what?” he asked with those pale golden eyes that held the smallest flicker of amusement. It was the first time he replied to her with no nods or “I see,” “Very well," or “Mhm.”
Hyuna didn't dare reply. Yet the words on her lips were “you’d be Emperor.” Both of them knew the answer. A loud sigh came from the usually silent Prince.
“Has this place already squinched your fire? If so, I apologize.” I apologize, Hyuna thought as Luka whispered those words, his tone insincere like a light blanket in a winter storm, inefficient. His eyes, this time, narrowed, meeting Hyuna’s eyes. He wasn't kind, but he wasn't unkind in his gaze when it came to her.
Not needing an answer, Luka left, and as his bodyguard, she followed. Being stuck as his bodyguard, Hyuna watched him day and night as if he were his shadow. Her hands would clench into fists whenever the concubine’s son was demeaned. Hyuna had this urge to pull him to her side whenever he was talked down upon by the others in the court. She wished to scoff at how Luka pleasantly smiled and greeted everyone who wished for his death.
Watching him be mistreated through words and demeanor felt unnatural. Hyuna almost wished a wave would take them both into its soothing water. Hyuna yearned to pull him to her ocean and keep him there, yet she had to stand helpless, watching his empty eyes. She had to follow, listen, and ensure he wouldn't die.
During bathing time, Hyuna also stayed, eyes down, as the only thing heard was the water gently swooshing. The room was only for him and her.
“Hyuna, if your eyes are always down, how shall you ever protect me?” Luka’s gentle voice met Hyuna’s ears like a close whisper. Instinctively, she looked up to see Luka’s head resting on his arm, which was leaning against his bathtub. An amused smile, watching her get off her nerves and acting up. His blonde waves now have his hair pulled back, reaching beneath his ears. His arm was skinny, with a milky tone of pale skin.
“Why do you bathe alone? Nobles are usually bathed by the help.” Hyuna took another leap and boldly confronted him. After all, she wished she wasn't alone here with the bare prince. It would have improved the heat of her cheeks.
“Am I that sickly and fragile that I cannot bathe myself?” Luka replied back, adjusting his arm so his cheek rested on his now-anchored hand. A faint chuckle left him, yet Hyuna stayed stiff. Luka this time glanced down at the ground, his mouth now a thin line. “The servants either stare too much or are too touchy. It is unpleasant.”
“Is that also the reason you selected a mercenary from a tavern rather than the imperial knights?” Hyuna countered, still unsure what she was doing here. Besides, why her? She was an efficient killer and protector, always having Hyun-woo’s back when they slayed monsters together, but to a prince?
“Yes,” Luka admitted, eyes still on the floor until his head was raised to meet those sapphire eyes of hers. “They’re sickening, Hyuna; their eyes are sickening. Love is an impure, sickening thing, and not to mention shallow, my dear mercenary.”
“I love my brother, I love my friends, and I love these children from my old orphanage,” Hyuna protested to the Prince. His cold gaze melted into a small chuckle, as if what she said was a joke.
“Not that kind of love, my dear Hyuna,” he chuckled again, his voice sweet, like it was carved from melted sugar, yet unsettling. Hyuna clenched her fists, sensing the condescension in that “harmless” chuckle. No one had ever called her dear in that sweet voice. “Come closer.”
Like a puppet, she obeyed.
Prince Luka studied her face, noting the lines between her sharply arched brows. Slowly, he reached out as if asking for consent, delicately holding a few strands of her hair. He tenderly admired the silk-like shine of it. Hyuna stood still as the godlike prince appreciated the brunette locks.
Hyuna never saw anything special in her hair, though she knew she was attractive. Everyone at her tavern knew she was attractive. Many made advances that Hyuna only entertained for a short while, whether they were men or women. But Luka was different. Hyuna wouldn’t flirt with or tease someone like him. She took his attention but didn’t fully reciprocate.
Luka noticed but smiled at the thought.
“I wanted you to protect me because I know you won’t ever have such feelings for me. It wouldn’t be appropriate for—”
“A commoner,” Hyuna cut off the prince. He gawked at her instead of the strands of hair he gently held; his golden eyes—blessed by an angel, she thought—focused on her as she tried to stay firm.
“A star,” Luka corrected, ignoring her interruption. “A free star wouldn’t desire anything in this palace. You’re too pure to hold sinful desires.” His words caused Hyuna to blush and scoff simultaneously. A sheltered, sick prince was calling her pure.
“You wouldn’t last a day outside of the palace,” Hyuna told him with a twisted sense of honor, but in the split second of those words, she felt only guilt when he let go of her hair, severing the light touch on her brunette strands.
“I wouldn’t, would I?” His voice strained, then he hummed as if he were the most carefree man in the empire. Leaning his cheek on his fingers, he placed more weight on them, looking unamused. “I still stand by my claim. Love is a cruel and sickening thing. It not only thrives but also spreads its sickness.” His eyes wandered down Hyuna’s form, from the silver armor that covered her chest and shoulder blades to her boots. “If I were in love, my kindest action would be to sever my lover’s leg.”
“What?”
“It is kinder to dismember one leg rather than two. One is enough to keep a person chained to you—dependent on your shoulder to lean on and your hands to keep them steady. Severing both legs would result in dependence on a wheelchair, which wouldn’t be as effective in making the person depend on you. You can also take them out on walks more easily.” Luka’s lips thinned, and he tilted his head at how stiffly Hyuna listened. Then he smiled and chuckled again. “I am jesting,” he reassured her.
Hyuna’s brow twitched, the unsettling atmosphere he created causing her frustration.
“Is that how nobles jest?” Hyuna asked with a stiff smile.
“I wish,” Luka replied in a humorous tone, his eyes rolling through the room before landing on Hyuna, as if she were his greatest target. “Every single person inside this palace despises me, either that or...”
“Fancy you?” Hyuna continued for him, noting the eyes that sometimes followed her new master. The slight redness on the maids’ faces, the longing stares of the guards, and even other nobles. Luka’s gaze avoided hers, hearing her confront the reality he knew all too well—the reality that suffocated him deep down, the rage that consumed him.
“I wouldn’t call it that, but yes.”
“I wouldn’t blame them.” Hyuna muttered. She wasn’t immune to Luka’s graceful movements, the lightness of his breath, and the soft, narrowed gaze that could consume anyone as easily as he moved.
This time, Luka’s brow twitched, his gaze more focused yet dissatisfied.
“And here I hoped you would despise me for being nobility,” Luka told her, bitterness embedded deeply in his words, though Hyuna could see it. “Some people theorize that I am so blessed, that the Queen couldn’t have a son, and that the throne was only meant for me. The Queen became unwell after all, knowing all she bore were raven-haired girls, yet a concubine bore a son with a face blessed by God.” Luka attempted to inject humor into his words, but they all came out grim.
The egocentrism he tried to display only annoyed the mercenary.
“Are you blessed?” What was supposed to come out as a challenge to relieve Hyuna’s annoyance sounded more like misery. Luka’s gaze warmed as it met Hyuna’s sapphire eyes. A small curve appeared on his pale lips.
“If I am so blessed, why am I so sick?”
Despite the grim atmosphere, Luka maintained his smile as he gently asked Hyuna for the towel. Stepping out of the bathtub, he moved slowly as water droplets dripped from his damp waves. The towel around his waist was a muted blue, and his upper body was lightly toned. His limbs had a healthy weight, yet he seemed light with his slow movement. His body, an ivory tone, held only slight differences from his hair, although the prince’s wet strands were a fair brunette. His eyes observed her as she observed him.
When Hyuna noticed, she glanced down. The guilt of gawking was daunting after an entire conversation where Luka seemed against it. The prince noticed.
“I said the servants and knights were unpleasant, not you, Hyuna,” he mused as he slid on his robe. “I wouldn’t wish to be stabbed because my bodyguard can’t even look at me.”
Swoosh.
It was wrong how easily Luka pulled her from her stance and had her beneath him on his bed. The gray robe swallowed his limbs with its flowy silk. His face was farther from hers, and the air around them twisted into a deadly silence. The golden eyes above her targeted her with that look. The hazy rays inside Luka’s orbs grew stronger as Hyuna focused. His lips formed a thin line in a small smile.
“I wonder... what is beneath all that armor?” A hand was firmly pressed against her chest plate. It was strange. The sickly prince’s hand was so attached to the steel separating their bodies that Hyuna could almost feel his touch against her organs. Her stomach churned weakly, and her hair splayed over his plush pillows like separated rivers. Luka must have found it beautiful because he kept his smile.
It was strange—strange how weak Hyuna felt under him, how defenseless this felt. Covered in steel and protection, he didn’t even touch her directly, yet all she felt was weakness. But she wasn’t afraid. It didn’t feel like she was paralyzed by a beast with her brother's and friends' lives on the line. This didn’t feel like fighting. This didn’t feel like fighting a monster. Yet his touch and gaze felt as if he could so easily and graciously dig out her heart from her chest.
His finger trailed down the steel, and Hyuna felt every movement of that slight friction. Luka’s gaze never left hers, studying her eyes so directly, analyzing every shift, looking for any true discomfort. A corner of his lips pulled up as he hummed, his hand leaving the steel armor.
Hyuna only felt one clear emotion: disappointment.