A year later
Rebel attacks. The Selection.
These two shouldn't be put together in one sentence, but The News just did. "Despite the Increasing Rebel Attacks in Many Regions, the Selection Will Still be Held." And this was basically the highlight of the day.
"Are there seriously no intelligent people in the court?" I turned the TV off and threw the remote on the table. "At this point they're just a circus. Fucking hilarious."
Jisoo cleared her throat, looking around to make sure that no one was in the dressing room except for us two. "Tone it down. If someone hear and report this, you will be beheaded."
"Let's address that too. What kind of king would silence criticism and turn the press into his puppets?"
"The bad ones," Jisoo commented. "Enough of the political talk, we can continue this discussion at home."
I almost rolled my eyes but didn't. "Fine."
"Did you see the picture earlier? Of Prince Jungkook?"
I stared at her from her reflection on the mirror. "Is he not a part of the political talk you mentioned?"
She shrugged off her shoulder. "What I want to say is not at all political. I just think he looks good. More mature than the last time we saw him."
Right. That day. The cursed winter. How could I forget?
The Prince breathed nothing but luxury when his people whose life he should've been responsible for weren't sure about their survival. Driving around for his secret rendezvous, like he got absolutely nothing to worry about. Saying that I hated him just couldn't describe the strong, almost lethal, anger that I had. For the very first time that day, I wished he would've just died because of the cold.
I knew that I had zero clue about who he truly was, nor the effort he's been doing to solve the issues in Eastasia. Maybe he was on his way to stop war, maybe he had tried to end people's misery before, maybe he was different from his tyrannical father, maybe he was struggling too. But every possibilities was outweighed by the hopeless, desperate faces that I see every month. How they wished to die instead of living like animals, scraping for food and pity from wealthy people, lying down sick for months, waiting for the day diseases eat them up alive. I wished I could say I've done enough, but I haven't. Whatever I did mean nothing and it changed nothing. They were still the "Untouchables" who couldn't fight for their own life cause they were not given the chance to.
Sure some of them are no doubt bad people, but what about their kids? What happened to their childhood? What they will be when they grow up? Will they even reach adulthood? They are innocent who are labelled as bad the moment they were born, boxed in a social system as "Untouchables".
Witnessing that kind of desperation with his own eyes a year ago, The Prince had done absolutely nothing to fix it. Every visit I paid to the shelter, all I saw were the faces of broken people. And now with the rising rebellion he persisted on holding The Selection? Yeah, go to hell.
"I'd rather die than being in the same room as him."
"Him, who?" Yuqi, my make up artist entered the room, holding the brushes that she left on the car. "The Prince?" she asked while pulling her chair closer in front of me.
I just nodded, uninterested.
Yuqi just couldn't hide her smile while setting down several pallettes on the table. "I think you would make a perfect pair with him, Unnie. Are you going to join the Selection?"
"Only if Kim Jisoo does."
"Which, knowing her, would never happen," Yuqi commented. "How could you not be interested? I mean it's every girl's dream to be married to a prince. Plus you're like a princess for us already."
"I highly doubt that," I scoffed.
She lowered down the brush she was holding for a second. "You might be even slightly more known than Prince Jungkook in Eastasia."
"Not possible," I smiled, closing my eyes and letting her to continue her work. After five seconds of silence, I took a peek at Yuqi's expression. "Maybe a bit possible?"
She laughed.
The three of us continued to chat, filling up the dressing room with the talk about our plan for lunch, the dog Yuqi saw this morning, Jisoo's wrong coffee order, my brother Ten, the jewelry that I'm going to wear for today's shoot, the set and the dresses, my upcoming movie premiere. In short, just everything we could share. That includes secrets.
"I am being assigned to a new job," Yuqi revealed. "To work for a royal family member."
"That's so great, Qi. You've been dreaming about that since forever ago," Jisoo congratulated her, but there was no hint of happiness in Yuqi's eyes.
"Are you worried we won't let you? Don't be, we wouldn't hold you back. Right, Libby?"
I made no remarks, just waiting for Yuqi to speak her thoughts. Something that mimics desperation was painted across her face.
"I want to run away," she confessed, averting her gaze from me to stare at her lap instead. "Because I'm scared of how they might treat me."
Silence.
"I'm a Six and I don't have Korean blood. Most people aren't kind to people like us," she casted her eyes up, exchanging looks with Jisoo and I. "You're so kind to me and you've been so supportive. I doubt myself a lot, I always think that I lack the skill to work for a Two. But you just don't care about my caste. You've never had."
Fuck the caste system. There, I said it.
The so-called great Kingdom of Eastasia separated the people by caste, dictating what we deserve and what we do not; deciding whether we are worthy or not. It's obviously one of the biggest flaws of our society, yet no one, no one but the rebels seem to have a problem with that. People from the so-called "lower castes" might be, but they were too scared to admit it even to themselves, while the privileged ones, those who came from the "higher castes" were too scared to get their power over other people taken away from them. That's why they're always on the front line when it comes to supporting and protecting the monarchy.
The ridiculous caste system should be broken. Now, I might sound like I'm siding with the rebels, but I don't. Yes, I hated, loathed even, many things about Eastasia, but never did I agree with the approach used by the rebels. They burnt houses, vandalized public and personal properties; they even attacked the palace for a few times. Who knew whether or not they had killed people? There should be another way.
"When I said you're already a princess to us, I mean it. Maybe not for all the Twos, Threes, Fours, and Fives, but for us the forgotten and broken ones--people who belong to the Six, Seven, and Eight. You treat people like people, you give us respect, and you offer help. You saved us."
I didn't know what to say. I've never wanted to be treated like some kind of a hero. I'm not. My brother, Jisoo, and I did this because that's what my parents taught us since we were a kid. Jisoo's mother used to teach me and my brother because we were home schooled. She quickly became friends with my mother, then one day our families became a one big family. We would visit the orphanage and the shelters that house the homeless people, offering as much as help we could. When my parents died, we didn't stop. Ten and I tried to earn as much money as needed, Jisoo and her parents still helped a lot.
We've never wanted the praise, we just want to show that hope is always there. Even though they thought they were forgotten, they should not give up living.
"Yuqi," I reached for her hands. "You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect. We didn't save you, we're just treating you the way you should be normally treated. You're not broken, but the world is."
÷
"I'm home," my brother shouted, followed by the sound of the door being closed. "Libby, where are you?"
"Kitchen!" I yelled, not diverting my focus from the tomato sauce I'm spreading on the pizza dough.
"Dinner!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Where's Jisoo noona?"
"Home. It's Mom and Dad's anniversary," I said, referring to Jisoo's parents. We've been calling them our second parents since forever ago.
"And why are we here instead of celebrating with them?"
I walked to the oven and put the pizza in. "Because I'm not in the best mood and I don't want to ruin their perfect day," I faced him. Taking off the apron, I took the glass of wine I'm currently drinking.
"That's such a lame excuse," he commented before pouring himself a glass.
"Ten, I'm allowed to have a bad day and feel like shit. Not showing up on their important day shouldn't make me less caring."
He set his glass down, pointing his finger at me and said, "We should fix your anger management issue."
"There's nothing wrong with me, but you? Yes, there is," I challenged. "Where have you been these past two months? You're barely around, always come late, but then you act like nothing's going on."
He stood in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Because nothing is going on, Sister," he leveled his sight with mine. "I swear, everything's alright."
I doubted that.
"Okay, I'm going to shower and come back later for the pizza," he smiled and let go.
But before he stepped out the kitchen, I hold him back. He looked at me, questioning.
"I have to ask you about something."
"Fire away."
I tapped my fingers on the table, deciding whether it's a subject I could bring up or better forgotten. I knew he would respond badly to this, but he is my brother. I shouldn't be scared of being honest with him.
"What do you think about the news today? The one about The Selection?"
He furrowed his brows, clearly not expecting that question. "Stupid. Ridiculous. The horror?" He paused. "Well, apparently, running a contest for choosing a wife for the dear Prince of Eastasia is far more important than the nation's security. But are we even surprised at this point? Why did you ask?"
"I'm just thinking that maybe ....," I hesitated. Whatever, now or never. "Maybe I should join The Selection."
He smirked. He looked away from me, then smirked. He said nothing. He just stood there and smirked at me.
"Am I humouring you, Brother?"
He chuckled. "Oh, Sweetheart, you have no idea."
"I don't like your tone."
"And I don't get the joke. Did I miss the punchline, Liberty?" When I didn't reply, he turned his back. "I'm going to bed."
"Ten, I'm serious!"
"That thing killed our mother, Liberty! It tarnished her reputation and crushed her from the inside. If Dad hadn't found her, what do you think would've happened?"
His eyes were bright red. The anger, betrayal, and disappointment were clear in the way he was looking at me now.
"Even if you're joking with me now, that's so low of you, Libby, and I don't like it. Eat
your pizza and go to bed."
👑
First chapter, old and new readers, what do we think?
I'll try to update this story regularly. Your comments mean everything to me since that's the main reason I'm still trying.