Just when the sky started to light up—when the rim of the canvas above turned its dark blue colour to purple, then to orange, then to bright sky blue—you stretched on the bed. Your back ached from sleeping on the hard mattress that you weren't used to.
Scanning around, you soon realised and felt your hopes shrivel; you were still here.
At first you did think of a possibility that you were dreaming. But that likelihood soon diminished when the young man gripped your wrist to the extent that you felt pain, and now slightly swollen. It disappeared completely now, that you woke up from a sleep and were still surrounded by an unfamiliar looking cramped room, with barely sufficient old styled furniture.
And so, you had to admit the implausible truth—you travelled back in time.
You were startled when a loud gong rang, probably alerting the whole building. Soon enough, you heard footsteps approaching, slamming the door of your room open.
"You're awake? Good. Then get dressed immediately!" a woman with a good physique urged, the next moment shutting the door and walking away busily.
Yesterday, you waited patiently for the boy in his room. His room was huge, decorated with needed furniture, but it was minimal. He seemed to be a person who didn't care much about luxurious things, as you could also spot a pile of oddly looking devices that didn't look like they belonged in this expensive room. But he still must have been an important person having such a room, and to be freely taking you in the palace.
He came back after 20 minutes or so, holding a robe in his hands. It was for you to change into less suspicious clothing, although you didn't dare ask how he got the palace maid uniform.
Then you met the head of the palace maid, the one with a great physique—big and fit that she could probably carry barrels of water on her shoulders—so that you could be accepted as one of them.
The boy only briefly explained that you were his old friend but the information that you had lost your memory was enough to make the head maid roll her eyes. Teaching a new maid the palace chores was one thing, but teaching how the world works was a whole different story.
He tried soothing her by talking sweetly, and not that it worked, but she accepted you probably because she, too, knew how stubborn the boy could be. And this was how you were given a room in the palace maid's house that you were currently in.
And it was only by the end that he had remembered to tell you his name; Jungkook.
Quickly dressing up in the uniform, you headed towards the maid's courtyard. After the head maid quickly briefing the gathered maids for the day, you were assigned to go to the pavilion where the royal family had breakfast.
"You won't be serving yet. God knows what kind of mess you'll create...you're going to stand here with me. The first thing you need to engrave in your brain is the royals," whispered the head maid standing next to you.
You were now standing outside the pavilion where you could see the royal family taking their seat one by one. Outside the pavilion stood the personal royal guards that every member of the royal family had. She taught you it was customary for the royals to take breakfast together every morning. They didn't necessarily have lunch or dinner together, but breakfast was a must.
The steamy and fresh dishes that didn't look so unfamiliar to you were taken to the pavilion one after another. The moves of the maids were brisk and clean, with no useless sounds made. You blinked a few times at the efficiency, worrying if you could ever do the same.
"That person is His Majesty, Kim Beomseok," the head maid stated as she gave a quick glance indicating the man. You trailed her sight, and saw a buff man, rather darker in colour, with a thick beard, dressed in an expensive red robe. Even without being told, you could easily tell who was the empire in the place, with his aura exuding dignity.
Kim Beomseok. He was the 19th emperor of the Kwandae dynasty. You tried to recall what the professor had taught you and what the curator was lecturing you this morning. They said that he was one of the most successful emperors who preferred creating allies than enemies, and was less likely to start a war.
You did see his painting in the museum, and from what you saw, that painting was exaggerated. He was drawn as a slim and aggressive-looking man, but the man in front of you was rather bulky, and prone to laughter. You confirmed that those paintings weren't reliable at all.
The two women sitting beside him were his empress and consort; Kim Eunjeong and Kim Myungok. It was quite easy to differentiate the two although they dressed up in the same formal way—not only because their robes were navy blue and peach orange but Myungok had dark phoenix eyes with an intimidating aura, wearing a bloody red lipstick while Eunjeong was rather soft looking, with her almond eyes, a little plump, wearing a soft pink lipstick. If one was a red rose in the dark night, the other was a sunflower bathing in sunshine.
Then the head maid proceeded to introduce the princes. The eldest was Empress Eunjeong's son, Kim Seokjin, the Crown Prince, dressed in a pale blue robe. He was 23 years of age. You could see how he took over his mother with how soft his facial features were, not to mention handsome. And how he smiled and laughed frequently resembled his father. He was married and thus the woman sitting next to him timidly.
The second son was Lady Myungok's son, Kim Namjoon, 20 years old, who was wearing a sacramento green robe. Unlike the other two men, he was reserved, quietly proceeding with his breakfast, nodding at what others are saying at times. His features were sharp, handsome but frosty, emitting the dignified aura.
You gasped when the head maid showed you the third and fourth son. They weren't in the paintings of the museum nor in any textbooks, but you were familiar with their faces—it's the two men you saw yesterday!
Third son was called Kim Taehyung, who turned 19 this year. He wore a purple robe just like yesterday. You obviously had no good impression on him, but the young man under a morning light somehow looked softer. His eyelashes flattered as he blinked, his eyes gentler in hue, and something about him was engrossing—you hated to admit.
Last but not least, the fourth son—was none other than Jungkook, wearing a black robe. As you had guessed, he was 17 years old. His doe eyes were bright, and he seemed to be the one lighting up the breakfast table with his stories and cheerful laughter. Just when you were blankly staring at him wondering why he chose to wear black unlike his personality, he noticed you, and winked.
Startled, you coughed intensely.
"What happened all of a sudden?" the head maid asked as she rubbed your back, and you could only shake your head.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Maehwa | kth
Fanfiction"I'll make an oath. That even after 700 years, I'll find you." Lee Y/n was a university student who found history was the least thrilling subject. But who could have guessed that she'd go back in time, trapped in a historical turmoil? She was lost...
