SILIN
I can't stop thinking of Taehyung.
The more I try to take my mind off of him, the more he distracts me. Even when I tell myself that he's nothing but a child, that nothing will go well if I become shaken like this.
Even in front of Han.
"What's on your mind, Princess?" He asks, not even trying to hide his unhappiness. "What's bothering you so much that you can't even give me a second of your attention?"
I murmur out an empty apology.
But he's a snake. He sees the emptiness in my words easier than he spits them out himself.
"Do you realize how long I've waited to have this conversation? And you are my fiancée. I am yours. I—"
He's rambling.
Why the hell is he rambling?
"My father was nearly assassinated yesterday." I growl, not even bothering to hide the annoyance on my face. "You would think that I'm a little distracted."
He scoffs.
And there I see it. The look that he gave me in the past, every time I'd ask him a single question. When he thought he was in complete dominance. When he thought that I wasn't anything but a piece of dust for him to step over.
Selfish bitch.
"I will have to understand. Women have such fickle emotions." He says, as he leans back into the couch. "Just an advice for you, my dear Princess."
"Rulers need to be strong. They need to be decisive, even in the face of their greatest challenge. Besides,"
"Everyone is bound to die in the end. One way or another."
I shouldn't even be surprised.
"You're right," I whisper. There's a smile on my lips. My eyes are fixed directly at him. "Everyone is bound to die. Whether they are young,"
My fingertip flicks against the edge of the table. The delicate, silken tablecloth is so weak, that it tears in half the moment I press my nails just a little harder.
"Or old. Only time will tell."
My gaze twinkles.
"What do you think?"
There's alertness back in his face now. He senses that something's wrong— something's not going the way that he wants it to. He senses it in the air.
"Think what, Princess?"
I play with the tablecloth. The rip deepens.
"For you."
My eyes raise, to meet his.
"How long do you think you'll live?"
_________________________________
My mood is black.
Every time I meet with Han, it becomes that way. Even if I end up leaving the room with an upper hand. There's still this taste in my mouth, like the aftertaste that lingers after having something terrible.
It had been like this for so long.
Except now, I had others to lift this thick cloud from my mind.
"My lady!"
The moment I turn the corner to head into my room, I'm met with something so unexpected that I almost instantly forget about Han.
"Let me go, you clueless monkey!"
Jimin is holding Rin's wrist in his hand, his amber eyes bright with alert as she struggles. I take things in quick— the bright, embarrassed blush on Rin's cheeks and a fallen basket on the floor. Crushed macarons, in all colors flood out of its open lid.
Oh.
"Do you know this maid, Your Highness?" Jimin murmurs, his lips pursed in a hard line. "She was trying to get into your chambers."
Rin shoves him away. Her silver eyes glow in fiery sparks under her rumpled locks, as she crouches and starts scooping the shattered macarons back into the basket in hurried sweeps. Her ears are scarlet— she looks like she wants to leave this place and never comes back.
A smile tinges my lips.
"Rin."
She freezes.
"Were those meant for me?"
"...yes." She says heatedly. "But then this man came out of nowhere and ruined all of it."
Jimin's eyes narrow. But then they widen as I burst into laughter. Then I crouch down next to her, not minding how Rin's mouth falls open as I pick up one of the broken macaron shells on the carpet and put it on my tongue.
"Your Highness!"
"Very good," I comment, offering Rin a smile. "How did you know that lavender is one of my favorites?"
She stutters. "I-I..."
"She is welcome, Jimin." I say, with a slight wink. "You don't have to keep her from my chambers next time. She is someone who I trust— and she is also the Healer's assistant."
Both of them are giving me stunned looks.
Of course. Jimin had probably never seen her in his life, and I had only met Rin once before this.
"So she is the one who you'll probably see if you ever need a small wound to attend to."
I see Jimin's brows furrow as he turns. There is a faint red climbing up the curve of his neck.
"I'd rather see the Healer, my lady."
Rin growls. "I wouldn't be helping you even if you were dying on the floor, so you don't have anything to worry about."
Then in the sweetest voice, she turns to me.
"I'll get you a dozen lavender macarons right away, my Princess."
I barely swallow down a laugh.
Jimin's eyes are pinned on Rin's back the entire time she takes to disappear around the corner, his jaw tense.
________________________________
It feels forbidden to be this happy.
I walk out of my father's chambers, feeling so light that I could run the rest of the way back to my own room. I'd just had an hourlong conversation with him, about Han and the arranged marriage.
He'd told me that he'd consider canceling it.
A smile blooms on my lips. It was all thanks to Taehyung. He'd told my father that I had been the one to send him during the Hunt, because of my worry. He'd put me in my father's good graces.
Now I'm standing in front of his door again.
I raise my fist, about to knock when the door clicks open. I freeze, my eyes flickering upwards to meet red.
Taehyung stares down at me, from a head height taller. His dark hair is rumpled over his unfocused crimson eyes, which instantly clear once he sees me. He's dressed for the night— a white silken shirt. I see the candle burning lowly behind him.
Had he just woken? It was past dinner time.
"...Mistress?"
My eyes flicker back down.
At first, I'm confused. Because I can see through his shirt— at the hard lines of his chest and his collarbone underneath. But then I realize it's not because it's thin, it's because it's wet.
Sweat. He's soaked in it.
"Taehyung, you—" I touch his shoulder, gaze turning in worry. "Are you alright?"
He flinches. Then he softly clasps my hand on top of his shoulder, and I realize with a start as he gently shifts it away from his body. I instantly take a step backwards, putting distance between me and the masked Taraka.
"...I'm sorry."
He smiles. I can see the way his eyes curve with it.
"It's fine," He whispers, with a pressed breath. "Right now— right now is just not a good time."
I turn.
"I'll have food brought to you."
"It's not that." He says quickly, making me stop in my tracks. His expression is so full of the things that he wants to say, even though I can only really see half of his face.
But he hesitates.
"What is it, Taehyung." I ask. "Say it."
"I just— sometimes this happens, and it's not because of hunger." He says, and I can tell that he's beating around the bush again. Not getting straight to the point.
"So what do you—"
He swipes the hem of his sleeve over his forehead.
"Will you just stay, Mistress? I cannot sleep."
He's masked. And for a second I wish I were too, so I could hide the smile pulling on my lips.
"Of course I will."
There were times I had lain awake in bed, my head so full of thoughts when my body cried for sleep. Maybe he was having the same problems, with his own secrets.
I pass him. Then I settle on his bed, resting my back against the headboard and smoothing out the folds of my dress. He looks stunned when I wave at my lap.
"Come. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."
He's blushing.
"I— I just meant..."
I tilt my head. And I let my smile finally appear as he cuts himself off, before coming closer. The blush is so thick on his pale skin, almost matching the shade of his eyes. He grips the edge of the bed.
He lifts his face. Suddenly he is so close, inches between the tips of my nose and his. His eyes are two pools of dark crimson.
"Are you sure about this, Princess?"
My heart skips multiple beats.
"W-What is there not to be sure about?" I say, instantly catching my voice. And I'm appalled with myself when I feel a thick heat grip my body. The bed shifts, ever so slightly.
He rests his head on top of my lap. I can feel the weight of him against me.
There's silence, for a while after that. It must've been at least ten minutes that we stay like this.
Suddenly he breaks it.
"...Mistress."
I look up. I'd been slightly dozing off.
"Yes, Tae."
Tae.
The pet name slips out of me before I even realize it. And I'm hoping that he didn't notice as I wait for his reply, embarrassment flushing my cheeks.
But he doesn't say anything.
His eyes are closed. I can hear the sound of his soft, even breathing— and realize he'd called me in his sleep. His chest rises and falls.
He looks peaceful. Beautiful.
With gentle fingers, I shift his curled, dark locks out of his eyes. Then I rest my hands on the curves of his shoulders, leaning my head back into the wall. The air is still.
It's warm.
I don't want to wake him.
So I stay there, silent and tender. Until my own eyes flicker shut with sleep.