Cut the strings and set me free

Part 3- a puppet tied to countless strings

Where do I stand now? How do I make a decision when I am torn?

There's a jaunty knock at the door before a loud exuberant voice enters.

"You better not have started games without me Joonie and Yoongi hyung. Or I'll spill everything to---oh, Your Highness." The bright voice tails off into slight confusion, reading the situation as an emergency counsel between the four of us, his loose casual night attire marking him as one of us, in this strange night gathering and yet he pushes the professionalism to the front, shifting close, hand unconsciously drifting to where his sword would rest.

"No need for that Seokie. I'm not here as a princess, I'm here as (Y/N)." I say with a small wobbly smile, watching as the transition flickers across his face- from Jung Hoseok, Head Guard in charge of my protection, to Seokie the same man who shared gossip of the castle's happenings with me over sweet treats.

He nods, taking the seat immediately next to me- none of the hesitance and torn expressions that my advisor oppas sport.

"Drinking the strong stuff hyung? Somehow I feel I've walked into a nightmare counsel." He laughs, grimacing when he realises how quickly his words ring true.

His eyes fall to the box in my hand, to the expressions everyone sports and immediately connects the dots.

"Let me open it if you won't." he says leaning forward with a determined expression not expecting the way my hands tighten and my body curves forward.

"I'll...I'll do it." I mumble, fingers unlatching from the side and brushing tentatively over the scene engraved into it, of an intertwined knot around a heart, of the flowers that are intricately marking the edges of it and creep over like vines.

I open the box with shaking fingers and trembling breaths, and when I unwrap the silken knot of emerald fabric that sits in the centre, my hands reach out to cradle the piece of jewellery that I draw out.

I unlatch the pendant to see the small miniatures inside, find that my tears finally spill over when I see two small paintings, one of us as children on the right and us in the present on the left. I see how far we've come together, see the limits of how far we could go.

And I find my heart shattering, splintering into pieces.

Torn further than the two divisions it was already separated into, the pieces that belonged to them disintegration and dissolving, embedding sharp shards of glass into my skin, bringing with it a million new hurts and agonies.

I sob as I clutch the pendant, drawing it to my chest as if somehow it could pass through the barriers of clothes and skin and blood and merge with my heart, to keep the image of them there forever, keep the three of us, the bond we shared alive and healthy within the confined embrace of my heart that weeps blood.

I can't hear anything about the sound of grief, over the lament my soul cries as it tears itself apart, withers away and dies. Can't feel anything over the way the metal digs and cuts into my palm, the coldness never seeming to fade, a chip of ice that splinters and forces itself into my skin, bringing with it its numbing chill that carries through my veins, turns me into a lifeless statue from the inside.

I can't feel anything, can't register anything except for the sinking fact that my life is falling apart in front of my own eyes, that everything I'd known, every happiness and joy fading into the void, lost inside it.

And I feel my heart and soul splinter, a chasm opening up over which I stand, the darkness consuming and tugging me down into its depths, where I don't know how far I'll fall, where I'll land- don't know anything for the future that awaits.