Jehanne lets her expensive footwear tap quickly against the muddy grass. It's grown, and it tickles almost uncomfortably against her immaculate ankles, but she's too absorbed in the feeling of the wind running through her hair to care.
She feels happy, an emotion that she knows -she's always known- is interlaced with fear.
Jehanne flashes left and right with her head low. Her heart palpitates against her chest with a feeling of invincibility, all eyes around her somewhere else, apparently unsuspecting.
What she doesn't know is that peasants have more urgent things to worry about than the young lady running away from her castle once again. She will be found, anyways. The walls around the kingdom extend almost endlessly, strong, as impenetrable as the eyes of the thousands of soldiers that remain stoic in front of them.
She will be found, eventually, and be scolded, or even, if the queen requires it, hit with a paddle and left without dinner. But nothing terrible will happen to the young lady. She's meant to grow side by side with her brother. She's meant to be a proud loyal. She's meant to marry a powerful lord; a king, even.
But Jehanne can't think about that currently, because she's only nine years old, and because her short legs are starting to feel weaker now, as she reaches the outlines of the kingdom.
She widens her unexperienced eyes, loads and loads of greens and yellows and oranges reaching further than she's ever imagined.
Outside the city, her homeland is populated almost only by grain and animals, only a few people, far beyond, drawing figures as they work mutely. Milking, and reaping, and shearing, and Jehanne has to close her eyes because the ache in her stomach is only increasing, and she refuses to ever stop.
She only thinks about walls and freedom, so her mind can't catch on with the body in front of her until her own petite figure collapses against it.
She falls on the grass, ending up in a sitting position, and a feeling of mild pain makes her furrow her brows before even opening her eyes.
"Oh, I'm so sorry", a high-pitched voice exclaims, and Jehanne finally takes in her human obstacle.
A long-haired brunette girl -probably around her age- is looking at her behind long eyelashes, wide, doll-like eyes dripping a concern that it's almost unrecognizable for the young lady.
She stands up immediately, faintly remembering her position - you are a lady, Jehanne, act like one, and crosses her arms against her chest, puffing it a little.
"Watch where you are going!"
"I'm so sorry", the girl repeats, an Jehanne is surprised to find it difficult to stay mad, "you appeared out of nowhere".
"I think anyone would have realized I was coming", the shortest brunette argues, her pride somehow strained.
"Sorry", the long-haired girl states for the third time, and Jehanne realizes she doesn't want to hear that word coming out of her puffy lips again, "you were running very fast!".
The lady's mouth twitches a little, and her eyes grow less obscure.
"Are you saying the truth?"
"Yes! Really fast. Like a lightning".
Jehanne can't really suppress the smile that tugs at her lips.
"It's because I was running away".
"Why?"
The lady thinks for a moment.
"I don't know".
The tallest girl hums in agreement, and Jehanne thinks they've acquired some kind of a connection.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Lizbeth. What's yours?"
The lady blinks a few times. Nobody ever asked that question. She knows what she's supposed to answer – I am Jehanne, lady of Goguryeo, second in line after the reign of my virtuous father, Haemosu, sovereign of Goguryeo.
"I am Jehanne", she says, and her sunny companion smiles widely.
"It's a beautiful name!", she exclaims, and Jehanne tilts her head with curiosity.
She's been told that her name is elegant, royal, powerful, but never beautiful.
Beautiful is also nice, she considers, and gifts Lizbeth a slight smile.
"Do you want to eat some fruit? It's my free time".
The lady nods. The mention of food makes her stomach grumble.
She expects Lizbeth to search for food a home; to run inside one of the small huts that stand shakily along the land, but instead, the girl looks up at the trees besides them.
"An apple?"
The lady blinks a few times.
"Yes".
Lizbeth smiles again, then, the sunset starting to coat her soft features in orange, and begins climbing a tree.
Jehanne widens her eyes in panic, watching her young new friend maneuver her body between the branches.
"Lizbeth!", she exclaims, out of fear.
The youngest girl stares down at her, unfazed.
"Yes?"
Jehanne licks her lips, suddenly speeches. Why is this girl so careless?
"Don't fall, please".
Lizbeth smiles softly.
"I won't, Jehanne, don't worry".
The shortest brunette nods, and really, for the first time, takes a look at her companion.
Her knees and elbows are busted, covered by burning red, in a way it makes Jehanne feel that falling out of a tree wouldn't be the worst pain she's ever experienced. Her limbs, slim - too slim – are scratched here and there, and even her doll face is corrupted by some harsh cuts.
Jehanne was told that not all children, not all people live as she does, as a pass-by comment, something she should be mindful of here and then, but only at that moment she's beginning to realize what her mother – the Queen – means by different.
The queen has also mentioned bad people, and horrible smells, and dirty clothes.
Lizbeth does own dirty clothes, and the whole place smells horrible.
But it's hard for Jehanne to think that she's a bad person, especially when the tallest girl is handing her the most appetizing apple she's ever seen.
"I told you I wasn't going to fall".
"Thank you", Jehanne answers, and she means it for the first time in her short life.
Lizbeth sits on the spot, her legs crossed, and Jehanne imitates her.
She nips at her apple. It's truly the best she's ever had.
"Where are you from?", Lizbeth asks.
"The city", Jehanne answers.
She turns slightly to stare at the sun going down.
It's lovely.
"I have to go back home in a while", she murmurs.
"Why?"
"The Qu- my mother is looking for me".
The tallest girl hums.
"Where is yours? Your mother, I mean".
"She's not here", Lizbeth answers simply.
"She's in the city?" Jehanne asks. Maybe she's met Lizbeth's mother before. Maybe she's run past her as she was reaching for freedom.
"No. She's nowhere, I mean".
Jehanne looks at the way her friend's eyes glisten. She feels a pang in her heart.
"And your father?".
Lizbeth extends her finger far, far beyond the fields.
"Over there... I think".
"Is he coming back?"
The tallest girl thinks for a while.
"I don't know".
They stay in silence for a few minutes, but it's not the silence that makes Jehanne twitch, wonders what she did wrong, prepare her body for a low bow.
It's a peaceful, sunny silence, and her ears begin to get accustomed at the chirping of the birds above them.
But nothing lasts forever, and Jehanne is still a lady, and she still lives in a castle, and she's still second to the throne.
"I need to go", she says, standing up.
Lizbeth gives her a look that emanates sadness and warmth.
"I'm coming back", Jehanne says, immediately.
The youngest girl smiles as she's heard hundreds of broken promises.
Jehanne blinks a few times before launching her body forwards, catching her new friend in a spontaneous embrace, and she repeats her promise right at her ear.
When Jehanne is already running back to her castle, she turns around to see Lizbeth waving, a big smile plastered in her beautiful face.
-
Jehanne goes back the next week. And the next one. She escapes from the gates of her castle -her family's castle- and takes off her expensive footwear to let her steps find their way back to an awaiting Lizbeth.
In exchange, the young girl gifts her fruits, flowers, and secrets.
When Jehanne turns ten, she learns with Lizbeth how to climb a tree, how to braid her friend's hair to make it look softer, how to laugh openly without caring about the consequences. She learns that Lizbeth likes to be called 'Liz'. She learns how to sing along with the many birds that accompany their meetings.
When Jehanne turns eleven, she learns that Lizbeth's eyes grow teary in delight when she eats the royal cakes she sneaks between the folds of her dress just for her friend, even if the decoration is pretty much ruined. She learns that the tallest girl cooks her own food, washes her own clothes, earns her own -few- gold coins. She understands that the world is unfair.
When Jehanne turns twelve, she understands the limits of freedom. She the relishes on the feeling of holding somebody right in the heart. She discovers that she doesn't like to be called Jehanne- not by her friend. She discovers that she is not fond of 'Anne', neither. When Liz comes out with the nickname 'Jenn' -making it shorter, you see? It sounds pretty- Jehanne understand the feeling of fitting right in, somewhere.
One day, Jehanne already thirteen, she steps into the outlines of the kingdom feeling somehow uneasy. She looks towards where Lizbeth is expected to stand, waving her arms excitedly, a big smile warming up her face.
But she's not there.
Winter has started to settle in. A soft, frozen drizzle hints the arrival of the snow. The land taken care by Lizbeth and her father -sometimes, when he has forgotten about his women- is now unusable. But Jehanne knows that her friend welcomes the weather with a smile, everything with a smile, and takes advantage of the cold to take proper care of her animals until she realizes it's time for Jehanne's arrival.
But this time, she's not waiting.
The young lady rushes towards her friend's hut with a heavy feeling anchoring her heart. Maybe she forgot, maybe she's too busy, maybe... oh... what if she's sick? She's so slim, she couldn't possibly...
But as she gets closer and closer, Jehanne is able to outline the figure of Lisa petting one of her favorite horses slowly, her mouth curling in a way the lady is sure she has never seen before.
When Jehanne stops running just in front of her, her friend merely looks up with a neutral expression.
"Liz, oh, I thought something had happened to you. I was expecting you to be-"
"Why you didn't tell me?" the long-haired girl asks, and Jehanne pauses her panting.
"What?"
She watches as her friend's stoic expression begins to crumble, big eyes giving her feelings away.
"Why you didn't tell me that you are a princess- the Princess?"
She launches her body back, almost as if afraid of the answer, as her horse walks away.
"Liz..."
"Is it... Is it because I'm a peasant?"
Jehanne feels the way her throat starts to burn in guilt.
"No! I guess... it was like that at the beginning, but, I didn't know how to tell you after..."
Her voice dies as Lizbeth blinks quickly to hold her tears.
The princess feels her eyes prickling as well.
"You were afraid of me? You thought I would rob you?"
The tallest girl hugs herself and Jehanne takes two steps further, feeling completely helpless.
"Of course not, Liz. I trust you with my heart. I am honest when I tell you that I didn't know how to do it. And... I guessed you had already found out, and were just reticent to ask me".
"I figured that you were a part of the nobility, because of your dresses, and your hair, and your hands. I didn't think, even for a moment, that you were the Princess! I had to find out..." her words strain her throat, "My father told me..."
"What did he say?" Jehanne urges.
"That I am charity work. If this is what I am, Jehanne... Your Grace, please, stop it. Please, stay in your castle. Please-"
"You are not charity work, Liz, you are my best friend in the world", the lady shouts, hot tears coating her cheeks.
Lizbeth looks at her for some moments, her eyes wide.
"You are my best friend", Jehanne repeats, and get closer to the tallest girl, "okay?"
Lizbeth sobs and hugs her tightly.
"The Queen wouldn't like that", she murmurs at her friend's ear.
"I don't care", the lady answers.
The tallest girl pulls away, clearly scandalized.
"Jenn!", she scolds.
"The Queen is my mother. I'm allowed to say that I don't care about her opinion".
"Really?"
Jehanne smiles shyly.
"Not really. But you won't tell. I trust you".
Lizbeth's eyes grow softer once again, honey swimming around dark pupils.
"You are my best friend too", she confesses, and Jehanne smiles brightly.
"Good to know, because only my best friends are getting the piece of cake I'm hiding in my dress".
Lizbeth gasps loudly as the shortest brunette runs away playfully, her cat-like features shinning in delight.
The girls play, and twirl, and eat as the drizzle turns white.
-
Jehanne turns fourteen on a sunny day.
A day meant to be enjoyed outside, with the sun coating her skin, with her feet bare against soft grass. It's a day meant to be enjoyed with people that makes laughter light, beautiful. To Jehanne, it is a day to be spent with Lizbeth.
Instead, she is around the stone walls of her castle, with servants taking and leaving tray of foods that she knows not her family nor the minor lords will ever finish.
"I hope you are enjoying the celebration, Jehanne", her mother speaks, loudly enough for the whole dining hall to listen.
The young lady knows that her words are meaningless.
She takes a look at her father, the King, devouring a piece of smoked deer with his right hand as he laughs open-mouthed at some of her older brother's jokes.
"Fourteen is an age for enjoyment... but also for responsibilities. There is plenty a lady needs to know to become a proper royal".
Jehanne's father stops laughing for a moment.
"A proper queen. We won't settle for anything else. Jehanne will marry a king. Our reign will be invincible", he says excitedly, and proceeds to chug his dark wine.
The minor lords surrounding the table snap their vases against the table to cheer on their King's words.
Jehanne remains silent.
"For now, however, enjoyment", the Queen states, and turns to look at her daughter into the eyes for the first time in the day. "Bring the gifts!"
A small army of maids enter the room carrying piles of presents in her arms. The young lady only needs to take a quick look to realize that most of them consist of expensive jewelry and dresses. She stands up as she is supposed to, bows as she is supposed to, smiles as she is supposed to, and begin the insufferable process of opening each gift in front of the audience.
The attention is on her for only a few minutes, anyway. Her brother returns quickly to the spotlight as one of the minor lords requests him to tell the stories of her latest voyage. Jehanne couldn't be too bothered by the fact, anyway. She lets herself breath more freely under her tight costume. As she stares at her gifts, she thinks about her best friend.
"What will happen with my old dresses, mother?", she asks, prompting the Queen to look at her once again.
"Oh? We might throw them away. Or give them to your maid, if you think she deserves it".
"My maid?", Jehanne asks in confusion.
She doesn't have a whole maid for herself. Her mother, however, does. The lady goes after her mother's every steps, cleaning her personal space, combing her hair, helping put on her dresses, and providing with emotional support if necessary.
"Yes. You must choose one immediately after the party".
"So can I choose her myself?"
Her mother turns to stare at her son again, her eyes filling with a pride Jehanne has never seen directed towards her.
"Of course. As long as she's a peasant".
Jehanne nods, and smiles to herself. Her body starts buzzing with the prospect of the joy it would bring her to have Lizbeth living in the castle with her.
She can only hope that her best friend says yes.