It was in one of your earlier lives when you decided to speak of your curse for the first time.
You opened your eyes to unfamiliar surroundings and unfamiliar, excited faces hovering over yours. The world around you seemed so daunting in its size, so foreign. You could not speak. When you opened your mouth, all you heard was the sharp wailing of an infant.
That scene was one you had become familiar with.
It took years until you could properly communicate with your new family, and when you turned thirteen, you decided to tell the village's sage about your strange experiences. You had hoped she would find an explanation for them. Perhaps even cure you of them.
You had been too naïve.
You still remembered the way her eyes darkened, the way she yelled as she frantically kicked you out of her abode. Utterly frightened, you ran away, never to look back at the ancient woman.
It was the last time you had ever dared to speak of your curse.
That night was starless and lonely. You were sleeping soundly when a mob of superstitious villagers raided your home, intent on killing you. They slaughtered your family with their pitchforks and axes and set your house ablaze with their ravenous torches. You could not escape them and the towering ghost of death in their midst.
Their weapons had impaled your feeble body, and you learned that you could never die at the hands of the common folk.
"Demon!" they had screamed as your flesh melded together, healing and restoring itself. The pain was blinding, yet you were alive. Your heart beat as though it had not been punctured with steel. Skin smooth as though it had not been scorched by their flames.
It took only a few days until they arrived at your village. Dressed in red the shade of blood long dried, they had come to collect their powerless prey.
The memory was so old it ought to have been muddled and forgotten, but you recalled it with harrowing clarity. That life had introduced you to your enemies. That life had slammed into you the bitter reality of your existence.
You were alone. Wholly and completely.
You saw the consequences of trust time and time again, life after life again. There was no one that could help you, and no one that would.
Whatever curse was ailing you was your problem to shoulder alone, listlessly drifting through endless lifetimes.
It might have been a pitiful fate, but you no longer cared to lament it.
Your mind was brimming with thoughts as you prepared to leave Valorieve Palace for the day. It had been a while since you received one of the Crown Prince's sorry letters and it was not something to be glad for. You knew that it only meant that he was running out of patience.
If he was like his predecessors, then it was only a matter of time until he attempted something dangerous.
"Sycross," you called for your butler, who appeared at your side mere moments later, prim and proper as ever.
"Yes, my lady?"
You hated to ask things of him, but you had to prepare for what was a sure event to come.
"Please deliver the afternoon meal to the school two hours after my departure," you instructed carefully, to which he bowed. "I will see to it. Is there anything else I may help you with?"
You turned to face him, hoping your request did not sound too peculiar. "I need you to deliver it personally, Sycross. And please have a small retinue of guards accompany you, the streets tend to be dangerous at times."
"Of course, my lady. You need not worry." his smile was polite yet sincere, and already you had begun to feel guilt creeping up your heart.
"Thank you," you said, turning away and shutting out that feeling. A few paces away, your knight stood, casually leaning against the doorframe of your study. You nodded to him, ready to leave the palace. Your own plans aside, you still had the responsibility of seeing the new register come to life.
"Let us depart."
• • •
"Oh. Good afternoon, my lady," Chaeryeong smiled when you stepped into her little school. She had become more adept at curtseying, you noticed as she dipped somewhat gracefully.
There was a class in session. Children sat in small groups on the floor, wooden boards and charcoal pieces in hand as they gawked at their visitor. Their curious fear was not something you could change in a day, for they were taught to be wary of nobles from a very young age.
"Please, proceed with your lesson. Do not let me disrupt you," you returned her smile, drifting to a secluded corner to observe them quietly.
It had taken long discussions to convince Chaeryeong to test the new register you were working on. She was reasonably hesitant. What you were proposing was a magnificent change that demanded long-term commitment. The scheme would not bear fruit in mere days. It would take months, years, even.
But, to your relief and utmost gratitude, she eventually accepted.
You planned to observe the school today, noting how Chaeryeong taught and the conditions these children learned in. The building you were in was shabby. Poor ventilation had made it a stuffy place. There were a few chairs and some small tables, but they were both not enough and in a terrible state. The makeshift chalkboard at the front of the room was faded, clearly worn by use.
There were many renovations to be done if you wanted to transform this school into the ideal learning environment this community deserved.
You also noticed that there were more students than you remembered—nearly forty kids of different ages crammed in the humble space. Chaeryeong handled them well, but you knew that if they kept increasing like this, she would soon find herself overwhelmed.
You also had to arrange a crew to assist her, you determined.
When the lesson ended and the kids dispersed, you made your way to Chaeryeong, who was dusting her powdered hands on her skirts.
"That was an excellent lesson," you complimented and she grinned sheepishly, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "You flatter me, my lady."
"Not at all," you shook your head, glancing around before changing the topic, "From what I have observed today, it is increasingly apparent to me that this building does not suffice in its current state."
"Yes, well...we are lacking many resources."
"Indeed." your brows furrowed as you revealed to her your plan, "As such, I intend to renovate this building."
"What?" she blurted, eyes widening when she realized her discourteous tone. You smiled, speaking before she could sputter out an apology. "Yes, I plan to renovate this building and make it a more suitable space for you and your students.
"But, until that project is done," you fished a folded piece of paper out of the pouch tied at your wrist, "you will have to relocate."
Chaeryeong received the paper and unfolded it to reveal a map. It marked the temporary place you had arranged for them to stay, an idle storehouse some blocks away. It was not the ideal dwelling, but it was well-maintained and suitable to be repurposed as a school.
It was also safer. You did not want to entangle Chaeryeong and her innocent students in the Crown Prince's intrigues.
"How long will renovations take?" the young woman wondered, her voice thickened by hesitancy.
"A year, I presume," you guessed and she sucked in a silent breath. This change was going to rattle her, you had expected as much.
"I understand this may feel rather sudden and difficult, but worry not," you tried to reassure her. "You will have help along the way. I will be sure to find other teachers to assist you as part of the education scheme."
She did not respond, seemingly lost in thought, and a sense of doubt began to ring in your head. Was she going to back out?
"Do you not wish to proceed with the arrangement?" you prodded gently.
"No!" she raised her shoulders defensively, snapping out of her daze. There was ambition in her eyes when her grip on the map tightened. "Thank you, my lady. I will work harder to see this plan succeed."
It was the fire in her kind eyes that made you choose her for this trial. She had the passion necessary for the success of such a magnanimous project. You placed a hand on your heart, relieved. "I am glad to hear that."
You discussed renovations and other ideas further. When you finished and decided to return to the palace, the sky was beginning to flaunt purple and pink hues.
Seungmin held out a hand to help you into your carriage and you took it gingerly, stopping before you could enter. "Seungmin?"
"Yes, my lady?"
You looked around you briefly. The street was empty, save for the few wary passersby. If a tragedy were to occur, it would take too much time for the news of it to reach the palace.
"Would you kindly see to it that more guards are placed to patrol this area during the renovations?" you asked.
"As you wish," his response was solemn and unquestioning. In the eyes of a normal person, there was valid reasoning behind your request. The construction around this building would also make it vulnerable to robberies and vandalism. It would only be a wise decision to have it guarded.
But the truth was much grimmer.
You stepped into your velvet-cushioned carriage. The modest school building peeked at you through the gilded windows.
A week, you estimated.
A week at most, and they will be sure to find you.
• • •
It had been a little more than a week, and the renovations were progressing smoothly.
Chaeryeong and her students had successfully relocated to the repurposed storehouse, leaving you to freely oversee the work on the old school.
You spent a generous portion of your time at the site, accompanied by the head builder with whom you finalized your renovation plans. You wanted to fix the entrance, make it wide and welcoming, as well as add more windows and a small garden. The walls would also be freshly painted to give the school a pleasant and sophisticated appearance.
As to the interior, you planned to install a proper chalkboard and rows of seats for the students. You had also ordered other materials to be brought in; books and writing tools to replace the wooden boards and charcoal.
In a year's time or so, this building would become unrecognizable, completely new. You hoped that the changes would serve Chaeryeong well.
You were on your way toward the renovation site again today, watching as the city passed you by. You had gotten used to the colors and shapes of Adorance, yet you still felt like an outsider here. This city would never be your true home, much like any other, for you were not going to stay for long anyway.
You entered the neighborhood where the school was located, continuing to watch the scenery in disinterest. The streets were void of people, doors and windows closed as though this were a ghost town. No birds soared in the sky. No strays roamed the ground.
You noticed a figure slumped at the mouth of a dark alleyway. As if pushed by an invisible hand, it fell to the side of the road. The glassy eyes of a guard bored into yours, lifeless.
Dread hailed over you like a violent storm.
Something was terribly wrong.
"Turn back!"
But your command came too late.
The carriage rocked haphazardly as something slammed into it, and you watched in horror as the shadow of your coachman disappeared from the small window. Dead.
Chaos sprung before you could scream.
"Ambush! Do not leave the carriage!" Seungmin shouted from outside, voice almost lost amid the panicked neighing of horses and the piercing clanging of steel.
Your thoughts ran uncontrollably in your mind, frenzied and deafening. They were here.
You had expected this. You had planned for it. Yet, you could not fight the terror that imprisoned your heart.
The Renocault Order was here to collect their helpless prey.
You did not want to think about what they had done to secure this insignificant part of the city. Two lives had already been lost, and you knew that there were more. There were always more.
Your carriage jolted suddenly, breaking into a mad dash. Dark red robes appeared in the small window, and your heart caved in on itself.
They were taking you away while Seungmin was distracted by the fight.
You had not yet given him your orders.
You had to get out. Now.
Scrambling to your feet, you reached for the handle of the carriage door with shaky hands and swung it open. It slammed into the carriage's body as its speed threatened to tip you over. The road whizzed below you. The fall would hurt, unimaginably so, but you could not afford to waste time.
Before the man in dark robes could realize what you were planning, you drew a weak breath and leaped out.
Your body hit the ground with a gruesome crack, tumbling across the road in a mess of heavy skirts. Your ribs ached, a myriad of scratches marred your skin, and you were sure that your neck had broken from the impact. The pain made it impossible to think, but it was all right. Your bones would right themselves in mere moments, erasing the pain as though it had never been.
You lay in a heap on the rough ground, and they were upon you in an instant. Faces obscured, hands inked with circles, they grappled with your limp body. Part of you wanted to scream, to cry, to beg them to let you go, but you knew that such pleas would only be futile. A mere waste of breath.
A flash of steel cut down the robed man before you, and Seungmin stepped into your blurry vision, his armor shining like a brocade of stars despite the splatters of grime and blood on it. He moved swiftly, a deadly arrow of silver and green, taking down your assailants and pushing them back.
He stood in front of your crumpled body like a shield, not taking his eyes off the enemy as he ground out, "My lady, are you all right?"
The men in red dragged themselves to their feet then lunged at him as though their injuries were naught. Seungmin met them with skill and ferocity, blades clashing ruthlessly. But he was only one man against a band of twenty or more trained killers, and he was severely outnumbered.
If he kept fighting this way, he was going to meet his end at their hands.
A measly gathering of strength returned to you and you pushed yourself to sit. Your voice wavered as you cried over the clamor, "You need to go and call for help!"
"I cannot leave you here!" he shouted in response, parrying then slashing his opponent's chest. "If I leave then we leave together!"
No! you wanted to scream. There was no we. The Order would not stop until they had captured you, and Seungmin would not let them. Not as long as he drew breath.
A dagger sunk between the blades of his armor, and blood began oozing out freely. His blood. But he kept moving, slamming the hilt of his sword into the skull of the man responsible.
An image you knew too well flashed in your memory. He was going to die right before your eyes if you did nothing.
Intending to create a distraction, you crawled away, dragging your legs behind you. Seungmin whirled around, noticing your actions, but the brutish pair of arms hoisting you up were faster.
"Don't move!" the man restraining you demanded, holding a blade to your exposed neck as his other arm circled your middle tightly.
You knew, and they did too, that it was an empty threat. That blade could not kill you. But Seungmin did not. Your knight glared, a blend of frustration and fury darkening his expression as he studied the dire situation.
For what it was worth, you thought, he had given them a good fight. Enough for them to regard him as an obstacle. A threat.
A few seconds passed where everyone stilled, the street that was once rowdy falling into impenetrable silence. The man holding you began to inch away, one cautious step after another, dagger still pressed against your neck.
You dared to shout, "Go! Get help—"
A calloused hand clapped over your mouth, and in that split second, Seungmin sprung forward, sword flashing. Stubborn. Uncaring. Reckless. It became clear to you that he would never heed your command.
Somewhere in the ensuing chaos, a damp cloth replaced the hand covering your mouth. The sharply sweet scent invaded your nose, and you could only watch the fight around you continue, powerless as your consciousness was forcefully torn away.
It felt like drowning. The words never sounded regardless of how much you screamed them in your mind. Stop it! Get away from here! Leave me!
He was going to die.
Seungmin was going to die.
How did your plan go so wrong?