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“Jinsol, if you stick your feet over here one more time...”
Yoona didn’t even look up from her military text, her voice flat and unbothered, but the person on the other end of the couch still flinched for a second before shoving her cold feet right back under Yoona’s thigh.
“I’m cold.”
“Then wear socks.”
“Don’t want to.”
Yoona finally set the book down and turned her head. The candlelight caught half of Jinsol’s face, and her eyes were doing that thing where they looked like she’d stolen actual stars from the sky. She sprawled across the couch like she’d never been taught a single lesson on royal posture in her life.
“You’re a princess,” Yoona reminded her flatly. “Mind your manners.”
“There’s no one else here,” Jinsol blinked, shoving her feet even closer. “And why do I need manners around you? You literally washed my feet when we were kids.”
“That was because you fell into a mud pit and cried so loudly the entire palace could hear you.”
“You still did it.”
Yoona let out a soft sigh but complied with the demand just as she always did. She cupped the foot between her palms and rubbed her thumb absently along the arch.
Jinsol watched her bent head and grinned so wide her cheeks ached.
It was snowing outside. The first snow of winter, coming down fast and thick, tapping against the paper window. Inside, the charcoal brazier crackled every now and then, mixing with the sound of falling snow into something that weave a quiet, heavy stillness that invited sleep.
“Yoona,” Jinsol said, quieter now. “Are you heading back to the northern border soon?”
Yoona’s hand stilled for just a second.
“Next month,” she said without looking up, still warming Jinsol’s foot. “There’s been unrest. Military reports.”
“How long?”
“A month. Maybe longer.”
Jinsol didn’t whine or complain the way she usually would. She just looked at Yoona with something complicated in her eyes—worry, maybe, or something else entirely.
“You’ll be careful, right?” She finally said, voice low.
Yoona looked up to meet her gaze, and quickly looked down again. “Yeah.”
She heard Jinsol let out a soft laugh. The princess shoved her other foot over too, then scooted her whole body closer, eventually just draping her legs across Yoona’s lap.
“Then you are sleeping with me tonight,” she declared, her tone back to its usual entitled nonsense. “I’m going to do my seven-day fast praying for the border. You won’t see me for a week.”
Yoona didn’t say yes or no, just reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Jinsol’s ear.
“Why’s your ear red?” She asked, and there was the tiniest hint of a smirk in her voice.
“The brazier’s too hot,” Jinsol turned her face away.
Yoona didn’t call her out on it. She only smiled, pulled her hand back, and picked up her book again to read.
They’d grown up together.
It had taken over a decade. Yoona still remembered the very first time she saw Jinsol. She was seven then, and Jinsol was six. She’d gone to the palace with her father, standing in the great hall with her head down, barely daring to breathe.
Then a small figure came running out from behind a screen, holding a fistful of osmanthus candies. The girl stopped right in front of Yoona and stared at her like she was some rare creature.
“Who are you?”
Yoona froze for a second. She glanced at her father, but he was deep in conversation with the Emperor. She had no choice but to keep her head low and mumble.
“I’m Seol Yoona.”
“Seol Yoona,” the girl repeated, butchering the pronunciation so that “Yoona” came out sounding like “Un-ah,” then she grinned, showing a gap where her front tooth used to be. “I’m Bae Jinsol! You can call me Jinsol.”
She held out her hand, palm up, revealing a few sugar-dusted osmanthus candies. Her voice was bright and clear. “Here, try one. They’re really sweet.”
Yoona looked at the candies and after a beat she reached out and took one.
“Thank you, Princess.”
“Don’t call me Princess,” Jinsol wrinkled her nose. “Call me Jinsol.”
That was the beginning.
The rest of it was too long to tell all at once. Yoona’s father was the Grand General of the Northern Garrison. She’d grown up learning martial arts from him, stepped onto the training grounds at twelve, went to war at fifteen, and took over her father’s position at seventeen—the youngest general the dynasty had ever seen. Jinsol, meanwhile, was the Empress’s eldest daughter, raised on silk and pampering, so energetic she drove every royal tutor up the wall.
By all logic, a general and a princess shouldn’t have had much to do with each other.
But Jinsol kept showing up.
As kids, it was to demand stories. A little older, it was to beg for riding lessons. Then it was just showing up at Yoona’s house to steal food, with excuses like “the palace food is terrible” or “I missed you” or “I just felt like coming, is that a problem?”—each one delivered with the kind of confidence that made it impossible to argue.
Yoona had never once said no.
It wasn’t because Jinsol was a princess, but because Yoona realized she lacked the strength to ever say no to her.
The feeling had taken root a long time ago. Perhaps when she was thirteen. She’d just come back from the training grounds, sweaty and disgusting, her hair a mess, about to go wash up—and there was Jinsol, standing at the gate of the general’s residence, holding a food basket
Jinsol’s eyes lit up when she saw her, then immediately narrowed.
“You look awful,” Jinsol said, walking right up to her and pushing the sweaty hair off Yoona’s forehead. “Like a mud monster.”
Yoona stood there, letting Jinsol’s hand move across her face, catching the jasmine scent that always came with her, and her heart started pounding so hard she thought she must be dying.
“What are you doing here?” She heard herself ask, her voice lower than usual.
“Brought you snacks,” Jinsol said, shoving the lunchbox into Yoona’s hands and grabbing her wrist. “Come on, I had hot water drawn for you. Go wash up.”
Yoona let herself be pulled along, staring down at the hand clamped firmly around her wrist.
She was definitely sick.
After that day, she knew what she felt for Jinsol wasn’t friendship, nor was it the loyalty of a subject to a princess.
It was something much more hidden. Something far more dangerous.
“Yoona.”
Jinsol’s voice snapped her out of the memory. She realized Jinsol had sat up at some point and was now leaning sideways with her chin on Yoona’s shoulder, her breath warm against Yoona’s neck, sending a sharp prickle of heat down her spine.
“What were you thinking about? I called you three times.”
“Nothing,” Yoona said, closing her book and setting it aside. “Military stuff.”
“Liar.”
Yoona glanced at her. Jinsol’s ability to detect her lies was better than any interrogation official in the palace.
“I was thinking about when we were kids,” she admitted.
“When we were kids?” Jinsol’s interest flared. “What about me?”
“About the first time you gave me osmanthus candy. You were missing a front tooth, and you couldn’t say my name right. You called me Un-ah for an entire year.”
Jinsol went red and lunged to cover Yoona’s mouth. “That was years ago!”
Yoona dodged, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Your mother thought you had a speech impediment. She called in the royal physicians.”
“Yoona!” Jinsol launched herself forward, using both hands to muffle Yoona’s mouth. “Say another word and I will never speak to you again!”
Yoona fell back against the cushion with Jinsol on top of her, one hand planted beside her ear while the other kept her mouth shut. The position was suddenly, unmistakably intimate.
They both went still.
Jinsol’s hand slowly loosened, but she didn’t pull it away. Her palm was still pressed against Yoona’s lips, and she could feel the soft warmth there, the gentle exhale of breath. Her eyes traveled from Yoona’s eyes to her mouth and back again.
Yoona didn’t move. She lay there looking up at the person pinning her down. Her heart thudded so hard it felt ready to burst through her chest.
“Princess,” she said, her words slightly muffled by the hand over her mouth, but Jinsol heard her just fine. “You should get up.”
Jinsol didn’t move. Her fingers trembled slightly as she dragged her thumb right across Yoona’s lower lip.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Yoona looked into those eyes. The eyes that were always laughing, always teasing—but right now they were serious, which made her stomach drop.
“Then you’d better be sure about what happens next,” she said, steady as a military order.
Jinsol’s face broke into a grin—but her eyes stayed serious.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
And then she kissed Yoona.
It wasn’t like any of the times before. Not a peck, not a tease, not a joke. This was a declaration. Jinsol’s fingers tangled deep into Yoona’s hair, pulling her close, locking their lips together as she claimed her without a shred of hesitation.
Yoona’s hands came up, like she was going to push her away, but they ended up gripping Jinsol’s shoulders instead, bunching the fabric tightly in her fists.
Jinsol felt that grip and something hot and satisfied curled through her chest. She pulled back just enough to look at Yoona, at her flushed cheeks, at her slightly dazed eyes, and smiled.
“Yoona.” Her mouth brushing Yoona’s as she breathed the words. “Your ears are red.”
Yoona said nothing, simply dropping her gaze.
Jinsol wrecked her again, kissing her with a devouring hunger that made Yoona stiffen for a second before she melted, wrapping her arms around the back of Jinsol’s neck.
She let herself be kissed, be taken apart piece by piece.
“General Seol,” Jinsol panted, breaking the kiss to stare down with wet eyes. “You have no idea what you look like right now.”
Yoona tried to turn her head away, but Jinsol gripped her chin, forcing her to look back. No more words followed. Yoona could only watch as Jinsol buried her face straight into the crook of her neck.
A soft kiss landed first, followed by the stroke of a tongue. Yoona shuddered, her hand flying to Jinsol’s sleeve, clutching hard.
“Jinsol…” A rare note of panic cracked through her voice.
The princess ignored her, planting her mouth all over her neck and collarbone.
With her strength, Yoona could have thrown Jinsol off easily.
However, she bit her lower lip to stifle the sound, letting the princess have her absolute way with her, even as the boundary blurred into something raw and feral.
Jinsol finally pulled back, staring at the red marks blooming against general’s skin.
“Yoona,” she said, her lips still touching the mark, her voice low and amused. “You had something on your neck. I got it off for you.”
Yoona dragged a ragged breath into her lungs. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Mm, I am,” Jinsol admitted easily, then kissed the same spot again, harder this time.
That wasn’t the last one of the night.
The candle flickered wildly a few times before dying out. Darkness filled the room, broken only by the faint red glow of dying embers in the brazier.
Everything they’d hidden for over a decade finally found their way out in the dark.
The next morning, Haewon showed up with documents and stood outside the door for a long time.
Not because the door wouldn’t open. Because she could hear Jinsol’s voice from inside.
“Don’t move, let me see.”
Then Yoona’s voice, at least an octave lower than usual. “Are you done looking?”
“Not even close. Do you know how many there are?”
“No and I don’t want to know.”
“One, two, three—”
“Jinsol.”
“Four, five, six—”
“That's enough.”
“I’m only at your collarbone. There’s more below—”
“JINSOL.”
Haewon took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.
The noise inside cut off instantly. After a brief flurry of rustling fabric. Jinsol’s voice rang out, suddenly very guilty.
“Who is it?”
“Haewon,” she said. “Bringing documents.”
The door swung open. Jinsol stood there in dark robes, her collar pulled up incredibly high, the tips of her ears looking ready to bleed. She stepped aside and let Haewon in, smiling nervously.
“Haewon! You’re up early.”
Haewon walked inside and immediately clocked Yoona sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a white underrobe, the collar loose enough to reveal a thick cluster of dark red marks covering her neck and collarbone. She was tying her belt slowly, face remained expressionless—except for her ears, which matched Jinsol’s.
Haewon set the documents on the table in silence before finally speaking up.
“General Seol,” her voice perfectly flat while her mouth twitched. “Did you get attacked by a dog?”
Yoona looked up at her deadpan. “Yeah. A stray. Vicious.”
“Right,” Haewon nodded, throwing a glance at Jinsol. “Interesting that it only bit places your collar can’t cover.”
Jinsol’s face exploded in crimson. She stamped her foot. “Haewon, get out!”
Haewon laughed and headed for the door. As she passed Yoona, she lowered her voice. “You’re completely whipped, you know that?”
“None of your business,” Yoona snapped.
Haewon shook her head with a chuckle, pulling the door shut behind her.
The room went quiet again.
Jinsol muttered a few curses under her breath before squatting down right in front of Yoona, taking the belt out of her hands.
“Yoona-ah,” she said quietly, thumb stroking across Yoona’s knuckles. “Last night... was it okay?”
Yoona stayed quiet for a moment before reaching out to ruffle Jinsol’s hair.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “You?”
Jinsol flashed a massive grin, burying her face into Yoona’s palm and nuzzling against it.
“Really, really okay,” she mumbled against her skin.
Yoona looked down at that messy head of hair and felt her mouth curve upward.
That afternoon, Jiwoo and Kyujin came by to visit under the pretense of checking on Yoona.
Unofficially, they wanted a free meal.
They walked into the courtyard and found Jinsol sitting on the porch in the sun. She was wearing a high-necked tunic, collar pulled up to her chin, holding a cup of tea.
“Princess,” Kyujin said, bowing. “Isn’t that a bit warm for today?”
“Not at all,” Jinsol said without flinching. “I caught a chill. Can’t let the wind hit me.”
“Huh,” Jiwoo said, leaning in to squint at Jinsol’s collar. “Why does your collar have teeth marks on it? Clothes can get teeth marks?”
Jinsol nearly choked, almost sending her tea flying.
Kyujin smacked Jiwoo’s shoulder. “Unnie, are you actually this dumb or are you pretending?”
“What did I do? I just asked a question—”
“Drop it, seriously.”
Yoona came out of the house carrying a plate of pastries, set it on the low table, and sat down next to Jinsol. She took the teacup out of Jinsol’s hand and replaced it with her own palm.
“It’s cold,” she said flatly, wrapping her fingers around Jinsol’s hand.
Kyujin immediately put two and two together.
Jiwoo, still oblivious. “General Seol, you have red marks on your neck too. Did you get eaten by mosquitoes?”
Jiwoo burst out laughing so hard she started slapping her thigh. Jinsol wanted the ground to swallow her whole—she buried her face in Yoona’s shoulder.
Yoona looked at Jiwoo without a single change in her expression, answering calmly. “Yeah. Mosquitoes. A massive one.”
“How big?”
“About this big,” Yoona gestured with her hands, indicating roughly the size of a human head.
Jiwoo’s eyes widened. “What kind of mosquito is that?!”
“Local specialty,” Yoona said, glancing down at Jinsol’s head buried in her shoulder. “Very fierce. Only bites certain people.”
Kyujin was crying with laughter as she dragged Jiwoo toward the kitchen. “Let’s go see if there’s food. Leave them alone.”
“But I still have questions—”
“No more questions.”
Around dusk, Lily showed up. She was a high-ranking court lady who shared a tight bond with Jinsol. The moment she stepped through the door and saw the two stuck together, she sighed. “So you two finally stopped pretending?”
“Pretending what?” Jinsol played dumb.
“Pretending to be just friends.”
Jinsol thought about it, then grinned. “Yeah. We stopped.”
Lily pulled a jar of wine out of her sleeve. “Then we’re celebrating. I brought alcohol. We’re not leaving until this thing is properly toasted.”
“I don’t drink,” Jinsol said quickly.
“Too bad. This is wedding wine.”
“It’s not a wedding—”
“It will be.”
That night, they all sat in the courtyard. Jiwoo and Kyujin had raided the kitchen and came back with food. Haewon showed up with bowls and chopsticks. Jinsol stayed pressed against Yoona’s side, reaching over every few minutes to steal food from Yoona’s bowl.
After getting robbed a few times, Yoona finally spoke up. “You have your own bowl.”
“Yours tastes better.”
“It’s the same food.”
“I still want yours.”
Yoona stopped arguing and simply pushed her bowl closer to Jinsol.
Kyujin shook her head at the sight, raising her cup. “To the two of you. Finally came clean.”
Haewon raised hers too. “To over a decade of pining. May it rest in peace.”
Jiwoo was still lost. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”
Lily sighed and hugged her shoulder. “Just drink, Jiwoo-ah.”
Jinsol picked up her teacup and clinked it gently against Yoona’s.
“To us,” she murmured, her voice meant for Yoona alone.
Yoona looked at her with tenderness. “To us.”
Late that night, everyone left.
The courtyard went quiet. Just the wind and the distant sound of insects.
Jinsol had fallen asleep against Yoona’s shoulder.
Yoona looked down at her and pushed the loose hair off her forehead, her fingers tracing down Jinsol’s brow, sliding down the bridge of her nose, and resting gently against her lips.
“Jinsol,” she called out softly.
No response.
She leaned down, pressing her lips against Jinsol’s forehead, holding the kiss there for a long time.
“Goodnight,” she whispered into the quiet night.
The next morning, Yoona woke up to find Jinsol already awake. The princess lay on her side, propping her head up with one hand while drawing small circles on Yoona’s face with the other.
“You’re up,” Jinsol said, her voice still rough with sleep.
“Mm,” Yoona didn’t move, just let the finger wander. “What time is it?”
“Early. Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t you have to go back to the palace today?”
“Took leave,” Jinsol’s finger stopped on Yoona’s lower lip, lightly. “Told them you caught a terrible cold and needed someone to look after you.”
Yoona opened one eye. “Since when did I catch a cold?”
“You do now,” Jinsol blinked at her. “A very bad cold. Requires bed rest. Requires a princess to personally supervise.”
Yoona stared at her sheer audacity for a moment before reaching out to pull Jinsol’s head down into the crook of her neck.
“Then supervise quietly,” Yoona mumbled into Jinsol’s hair. “Let me sleep.”
Jinsol laughed against her skin. She wrapped her arms around Yoona’s waist and plastered herself against her.
“Okay,” she whispered, lips brushing Yoona’s collarbone. “I’m here. Sleep.”
Yoona closed her eyes, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Jinsol didn’t fall back asleep. She listened to Yoona’s breathing slowly even out, her fingers following the curve of Yoona’s waist. Her eyes settled on the dark marks scattered across Yoona’s neck, and she remembered how the fierce general had trembled beneath her the night before, how soft and unguarded her eyes had been. Yoona never let anyone see that side of her. But last night, she'd given Jinsol everything.
Jinsol’s eyes stung a little.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the mark on Yoona’s collarbone.
“I will cherish you,” she breathed silently.
“For the rest of my life.”
“Just like you have always protected me.”
“I love you.”
Yoona might have heard her, or might not have. But under the blanket, her hand found Jinsol’s, squeezed tight.
Jinsol looked at their joined hands and smiled.
The sunlight outside got brighter. Snow glittered on the ground, almost too bright to look at. Somewhere, plum blossoms had started to bloom, their scent drifted on the wind, light and cold and sweet.
Winter wasn’t over yet.
But spring wasn’t far.