❖ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ/ₚᵣₒₘᵢₛₑₛ.

hardwin  had  always  been  bound  by  duty ,   no  matter  the  personal  cost.  it  was  a  binding  force  stronger  than  any  emotion  or  fleeting  sentiment ,   and  he  had  lived  his  life  according  to  that  singular  principle.  even  now ,   as  he  stood  at  the  threshold  of  what  might  be  the  last  moments  he  shared  with  the  person  he  had  once  loved ,   he  felt  the  weight  of  that  duty  bearing  down  upon  him.  the  past  few  years  had  been  a  tangled  web  of  secret  glances ,  hushed  conversations ,   and  stolen  moments.  yet ,   despite  everything  they  had  shared ,   everything  they  had  done  together ,   none  of  it  had  been  enough  to  break  him  free  from  the  chains  of  obligation  that  had  been  placed  upon  him  by  both  birth  and  station.

he  had  always  known  this  day  would  come ––– the  day  when  they  would  be  married  off  to  another ,   the  day  when  the  bond  they  had  would  be  severed  by  the  cold  hands  of  royal  politics.  but  still ,   the  weight  of  it  all  struck  him  with  the  force  of  a  hammer.  he  had  hoped ,   or  perhaps  foolishly  believed ,   that  somehow  the  future  would  unfold  differently ,   that  they  would  find  a  way  to  be  together  despite  everything.  but  now ,   he  knew  better.  it  was  over.

the  royal in question ,   his  heart’s  first  love,  would  be  wed  to  a  prince  from  a  neighboring  kingdom ––– one  who ,   in  hardwin’s  eyes ,   was  little  more  than  a  puppet ,   a  means  to  an  end  for  the  royal  family.  the  thought  of  it  left  a  bitter  taste  in  his  mouth.  he  had  been  tasked  with  escorting  them ,   along  with  their  entourage ,   to  the  distant  kingdom  where  they  would  take  their  place  beside  this  foreign  prince.  but  hardwin  couldn’t  shake  the  nagging  suspicion  that  this  was  all  part  of  a  greater  scheme ––– one  concocted  by  the  king  themselves.  it  wouldn’t  be  the  first  time  the  royal  family  had  orchestrated  a  marriage  under  the  guise  of  peace  and  unity ,   all  the  while  hiding  more  sinister  motives  beneath  the  surface.

his  mind  wandered  back  to  the  days  before  everything  had  fallen  apart ,   when  they had  still  been  so full  of  fire  and  defiance ,   and  he  had  been  nothing  more  than  a  soldier  with  little  more  than  his  loyalty  to  guide  him.  it  had  been  simple ,   then ,   in  some  ways.  their  affair ,   if  it  could  even  be  called  that ,   had  been  reckless  but  thrilling ––– a  hidden  chapter  of  their  lives  that  they  had  promised  never  to  speak  of.  not  even  to  each  other ,   not  even  now.  they  had  vowed  to  leave  it  all  behind.  but  vows  were  fragile  things ,   and  no  matter  how  hard  they  tried  to  bury  it ,   that  chapter  of  their  lives  had  never  truly  closed.

he  had  heard  whispers  in  the  halls  of  the  castle ––– the  king’s  spymaster ,   ever  watchful ,   had  likely  known  about  their  secret  affair  long  before  either  of  them  had  realized  the  danger.  how  had  the  king  never  suspected ?   had  they  truly  been  unaware  of  the  connection  between  hardwin  and  their  child ?   or  had  they  simply  turned  a  blind  eye ,   choosing  to  overlook  the  truth  because  it  suited  their  purposes ?

those  questions  no  longer  mattered.  the  king  had  made  their  decision ,   and  there  was  no  room  for  doubt.  they were now  to  be  married  off ,   and  hardwin’s  duty  was  to  escort  them  to  their  new  life ,   where  he  would  likely  never  see  them  again.  the  thought  cut  through  him  like  a  blade ,   but  he  didn’t  allow  himself  to  dwell  on  it.  there  was  no  place  for  personal  grief  in  his  world ,   not  anymore.  he  had  been  a  knight  long  enough  to  know  that  emotions  were  a  luxury  afforded  only  to  those  who  had  nothing  left  to  lose.

the  day  had  finally arrived.  the  carriage  was  ready ,   and  their bags  had  been  packed  away  for  the  journey.  hardwin’s  mind  was  a  whirlwind  of  conflicting  emotions  as  he  walked  toward  the  chamber  where  they  waited.  it  felt  like  an  eternity  since  he  had  last  set  foot  in  that  room ––– the  room  where  they  had  spent  countless  sleepless  nights  together ,   holding  each  other  close  as  the  world  outside  fell  into  silence.  the  memories  came  flooding  back,  and  for  a  moment ,   he  almost  faltered.  but  no ,   he  couldn’t  afford  to.  he  had  a  job  to  do ,   and  it  was  his  duty  to  see  it  through.

he  knocked  softly  on  the  door ,   the  sound  almost  a  whisper  in  the  stillness  of  the  castle.  a  voice  called  from  within ,   granting  him  permission  to  enter.  he  stepped  inside ,   his  gaze  immediately  dropping  to  the  floor ,   unable  to  meet  their  eyes.  the  same  solemn  look  that  had  come  over  him  when  he  first  learned  of  the  arranged  marriage  now  settled  over  him  like  a  cloak.  he  knew  that  his  face  betrayed  the  turmoil  inside  him ,   but  he  didn’t  care.  there  was  no  room  for  pretenses  here.

they stood  before  him ,   their  posture  regal  as  ever ,   but  there  was  something  different  in  the  air.  something  heavy.  they  were  dressed  in  the  fine  clothes  meant for the upcoming wedding ,   and  hardwin’s  heart  twisted  painfully  at  the  sight.  how  many  times  had  he  imagined  this  moment  would  unfold  differently ?   but  there  were  no  more  fantasies  to  cling  to ,   no  more  hope  that  things  would  turn  out  as  they  should.  this  was  reality ,   cold  and  unyielding.

he  bowed  low ,   as  protocol  demanded ,   but  it  was  a  bow  made  with  the  weight  of  a  thousand  regrets.  he  couldn’t  meet  their  eyes ––– not  when  the  raw  emotions  inside  him  were  so  close  to  spilling  over.  instead ,   he  spoke  in  the  calm ,   measured  tone  of  a  knight  who  had  long  since  buried  his  personal  feelings  beneath  the  surface.

“ your  highness , ”   he  said ,   his  voice  carrying  the  faintest  edge  of  something  unspoken ,   something  thick  with  bitterness.  “ the  carriage  is  now  ready  for  you.  will  you  depart  for  your  new  kingdom  now ,   or  is  there  something  else  you  require  before  we  leave ? ” @indiestarter

hongjae dreaded the day this would happen, but just like death, it was inevitable. a lump seemed to form in his throat and had not left since his father told him of the plan. the prince was to be wed to another prince, and they would raise the princess' (who had died during childbirth) son, as their own heir. not only was he being pushed into a marriage he did not want, but he would also be stepping into parenthood, taking on a crucial part for a child that was solely tied to the other prince by blood. his happiness would never be considered, only what benefited their people, what made them prosper- even if it meant the only heir to the kingdom would be used as a pawn in a game he never wanted to play. then there was the matter of his own heart... such a foolish little thing to beat for someone so wildly. hardwin had been so loyal, trusted completely, and the first to always be there for him; it was no wonder the prince came to rely on him so much, and for that to grow into something more.

it began with small 'demands', all of which the knight would carry out without issue, and soon it became staying beside the prince when he was ill and not leaving him when the sky roared in the night and light flashed across the sky. the prince was the first one to make a move, holding hardwin tightly one night before he kissed the other so softly it felt like a whisper. no matter how many times they had been in each other's arms, they swore to not speak of it, to let it simply fade into memory... but sometimes that was easier said than done.

MOONSTONE — an icon border template by lightlysources

Prompt: “You stand there and lecture me, but where were you when it happened?”

**I only proofread once. It’s 10pm and I had this sudden urge to write. I have not written anything in over two years given a multitude of road blocks so please forgive any mistakes or downright suckiness (not a word, I know)

Faint moonlight draped Iria’s favor momentarily as she stood motionless. Not far from where her eyes focused, cackles birthed lifeless whispers and withered souls. Her palm lingered, thumb resting along the divots of her sword cover, cautionary in regard but prepared nonetheless. “Who’s there?” She bellowed, her melody a siren song rendering pillows of vines and their lovers distraught. Nothing followed, not even the pitiful motion of despair wandering aimlessly in tandem with her steady heartbeat. “Once more. Show yourself.” Her cadence a facade to disguise how troubled her stomach grew. Much to her dismay, a gorged man would surely find his gluttony content and sated should he taste the air surrounding her.

Iria’s breath hitched, eyes widening at the sudden intrusion consuming her whole. Her arms were now fastened, muscles molten as her bones escaped their confines. Horrified, she ached to scream but her body betrayed all that it should be. She was paralyzed. To her flank, a branch sobbed, cracking instantly in response to the culprits giddy nature. “Oh my.” The voice moaned, seizing delight effortlessly. What are you? She thought. This creature did not present the phenotype of a demon. Its eyes possessed pupils drenched in lilac, all but drowning out petrified white of its sclera. A contradiction it was, innocence hopeful as the victor in this long winded game of malevolence. Its physique was also tough to capture; nebulous with no end or beginning. Amused by her fright, the unnamed assailant raised a molded talon, pressing along Iria’s blushed mound. Internally she winced, unable to fully contend with her lack of bodily autonomy. “Your warmth..” It cooed, taunting her vulnerability’s attempt to retreat. “Tsk. A shame really.. you would’ve made a beautiful play thing.” Would’ve? Panic set in, though she was not ready to perish, there was simply no way out…

In one swift movement, jagged edges cradled the curves winding down to her navel. The cry situated at the base of her throat pleaded for misery to release, though kindness left her many days to burn over and over until nothing remained. “Oh… oh. Your nectar, so sweet.. so chaste.” H-how could it tell? With little hesitation, what could only be described as a congenital misfortune raised its index finger, wafting her bloodied essence before the ends of its split tongue lapped each precious drop. Bile rose quickly, the acidic blend urging her lungs to bludgeon themselves on its contents. If whatever this was did not kill her instantly, suffocation would painstakingly reign.

A gust of wind wedged itself between Iria and perversion on display inches away from her. It stilled, eyes wide and mouth agape. Iria was not certain what occurred. However, she was grateful for interrupting its shameful pursuit. “Iria?!” A familiar husk shouted above her person. Despite not being able to move; she knew exactly who it was. Sanemi. Tears welled, threatening to spill in waves. Grotesqueness fell to its knees in a state of shock being caught off guard. Seconds after taking a final breath, Iria also fell flat onto the tunneled wounds on her abdomen. Though adrenaline left her intoxicated, she still could not swallow the shrill howl escaping between shallow pants. Heavy foot steps advanced quickly to where she lie in a fit of her own blood and pain.

Sanemi recoiled, offense etched scarcely above furrowed brows. He failed to portray ease causing Iria to snort in disbelief. “Bluff called and you cower.” She shook her head as blood gnawed past her throat and onto the damp foliage holding her near. “Pathetic.” She spat, lifting herself with little strength embraced her worn being. Her petite frame felt immense amongst the expanse, heavy and reluctant to move onward. Sanemi stood, unwilling to assist his counterpart, partially due to his embarrassment enthralled by pride. She shot a pointed glare towards Sanemi, eyes rolling almost to the base of shadows as she drank in his reluctance. “I need your help. Make yourself useful.” Sanemi’s eyes narrowed. “Useful?” His confusion minor yet out of place given the circumstances. “Useful?” He repeated, disbelief rotting his teeth. “Have you lost the last of your limited intellect?” She retorted, growing increasingly fatigued.

His jaw set rigged, bones cracking under the weight of his anger. “Would you prefer to bleed out here?” Iria sheltered her weeping wounds, laughing maniacally at his attempt to flay her tenderness further. She sucked in a harsh breath as her body beckoned an ounce of adrenaline. Within seconds she situated herself up right, sword now unsheathed, blade lingering mere inches from Sanemi’s jugular. “Only if you are eager to join.” Paradoxically, her threat did not cause him to waver, in fact, it presented a challenge he was nearly drunk on pursuing. He pressed further, blade now flush against his throat. “Please me.” He groaned, now calling her bluff. They both remained unmoving for a few seconds; the wicked darkness preening at the prospect of more blood satisfying its roots. “Enough.” An authoritative gruff resonated; instilling fear so effortlessly. Gyomei. Although younger than her, Iria maintained a wealth of admiration and respect for the Stone Hashira. She quickly sheathed her weapon before turning to bow. “Sanemi.” Gyomei uttered his name as a declaration, stern and focused. “Get her out of here.” He ordered; leaving no room for protest.