Twisted Games(Ryeji ver)

RYUJIN[CHAPTER 47]

1 WEEK LATER

"Your Highness!" Yeonjun's assistant jumped up from her desk, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened, but we don't have you on the calendar. There must've been a mix-up—"

"It's all right," Yeji said with a gracious smile. "I didn't make an appointment, but we would like to speak with the Speaker. Is he available?"

"Oh, um." The flustered-looking woman rifled through her papers before she shook her head. "Yes, of course. Please, follow me." She led us through the Speaker's chambers toward his office. The thick blue carpet muffled the sounds of our footsteps, and my muscles knotted with tension. We're really doing this.

I wasn't scared of Yeonjun, but this would be my first time seeing him since I found out he was my father. Biologically, anyway. He hadn't done jack shit to earn the honor the title deserved. Yeonjun's assistant knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked again.

"What? I told you not to disturb me!" he barked.  The woman flinched.

"Mr. Speaker, Her Highness Princess Yeji is here to see you. And, um, Ms. Shin." She cast a quick, awed glance in my direction. I fought a grimace.

After the past week, everyone in Eldorra—hell, everyone in the world—knew my face and name. They'd taken over headlines from Tokyo to New York, and the footage from Yeji's press conference, as well as the "candid" photos and videos of us kissing afterward, had played on repeat on every news channel.

The press spun the story as a reverse fairytale about a princess and her bodyguard, and the commentators ran with it, penning entire articles and op-eds about love, duty, and tradition. The public ate it up. According to Yeji, Parliament had been inundated with calls about repealing the law, and the hashtag #LoveOverCountry had been trending all week on social media.

Love was the most universal emotion. Not everyone experienced it, but they all wanted it—even those who said they didn't—and Yeji's press conference had tapped into that core need. She wasn't just a royal anymore. She was a human and, more importantly, relatable to every person out there who couldn't be with the person they wanted for whatever reason.

There was nothing more powerful than power people could relate to. Yeji's plan had worked better than we could've hoped, but it was disconcerting seeing my face all over the newsstands and having people stop and stare wherever I went.

But I'd agreed to the plan knowing it would destroy any semblance of privacy I had left, and if stepping out of the shadows and into the spotlight was what it took for us to be together, I'd do an interview with every goddamned magazine out there.

Yeji, Yeonjun's assistant, and I waited for the Speaker's response to Yeji's visit. I heard the slam of a desk drawer followed by several beats of silence before the door swung open, revealing an irritated-looking Yeonjun.

The knots in my muscles doubled. My father. I didn't know what I'd expected. Maybe a tug in my stomach at the sight of the man who was technically one half of me, or the loathing that had simmered beneath the surface for over three decades, waiting for the day when I could unleash it in a hail of fists and blood and curses.

Instead, I felt nothing. Nothing except a vague distaste for Yeonjun's overly coiffed, gel-slick hair and anger at the tight,
bordering-on-disrespectful smile he gave Yeji.

"Your Highness. Please, come in." His tone indicated he was less than pleased by the surprise, and he didn't acknowledge me as we stepped into his large, oak-paneled
office.

Yeji and I took the seats across from him. The office reflected the man, cold and empty of any personal effects except for the framed university degrees hanging on the walls.