Inside, the sturdy oak table is spread with more types of meats, cheeses, and breads than I knew existed. The pitcher filled with clean drinking water is what appeals to me the most, but there’s no way to take it back with me, and I would feel guilty indulging myself. Jars of what looks like jams, jellies, and pickled vegetables line the shelves. The memory of my mother’s blackberry jam almost tempts me to snag something. We would pick from the vine that grew behind our house and she would always let me eat a few before we stewed them. I haven’t tasted the sweetness in years. The need to make room for more filling and nutritious things takes precedence over my nostalgia. 

My bags fill quickly with the important food first, but the two bags slung around my shoulders hardly fit what the table does. There’s not even the sound of a breeze, but I glance around just in case. The table is not the only fine furniture in the house. 

Sometimes, when I catch glimpses of evidence of a family, the guilt starts to eat its way in. I imagine a family just trying to survive the same as I. However, this time, the person is so wealthy that not only do I not feel guilt, but also a small sense of justice as well. There is no trace of kids, which aids my conscience. 

There is no room for hoarding wealth these days. How could one indulge themselves when all of their neighbors starve? 

I am in and out without any issues, the adrenaline melting into satisfaction once I’ve managed to escape back into the woods, getting lost behind the trees. 

Robbing is far from the life I imagined for myself, but I do what I have to. The war scared most of the wild life away, leaving hardly enough wild game to go around. I can’t live on just meat either. I need other things of nutritional value. 

It’s not that I hadn’t considered other options. I could steal people’s jewels, or any other valuables, and sell them on the market for a profit; but that’s a risky game, even for me. The townspeople know about bandits like me and are on the hunt for stolen property in the markets. Bounties are given for criminals, and the more prisoners the kingdom gets, the more free slave labor. Food is much safer to take and the guilt is less heavy. Like I tell Taehyung, the people who can afford food can just get more.

The war with the Brecken had ravaged my town some odd years ago, leaving no family unbroken. Homes were looted and left to the burn. Families torn apart, children left to fend for themselves. The kingdom has had years to rebuild, and yet here I still am, living in the woods with my makeshift family. For us, it’s as though the war has never ended.

I return back to them with my arms and bags full. Some of the kids of the camp rush to meet me, standing on their tiptoes to try and spy what I’ve got this time. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got enough for everybody,” I tell the greedy little hands that try to grab things. 

There’s more kids than adults at the camp. Some of them are orphans, some abandoned in the chaos of the war, left not knowing if their parents are alive or not. Regardless, we’re all they’ve got now. We’re their family now. 

Slowly, more people emerge from their makeshift tents, coming to see what I’ve brought. Unsurprisingly, I spot my best friend standing off to the side, his arms crossed with his disapproving stare, as always. I sit the things gathered in my arms onto the wooden palette and Sam helps me sort through it. 

“Did I get anything useful?” I ask Sam, even though I am already grinning at his clear amazement. 

He’s a big, burly redhead and the evidence of war is marred all over his body. He stops to admire each item in disbelief. “Did you rob a whole village?” 

I laugh, emptying the final item. The blackberry jam. I had to see if it tastes like I remember. 

Sam was as unhappy as Taehyung when I first began robbing. Then, when his daughter almost died from not eating enough, he began to accept it. “You better be careful. I can makedo with bare minimum, you know?”

“I know Sam. I’ve been eating your famous walnut soup for years.”

He laughs and shakes his head and I grin back. I’ve joked before that if I have to eat it again I’ll barf. In return, he reminds me of my cooking skills, or lack thereof. 

Sometimes when he’s using the stolen utensils and cooking the food over a fire he’s built here in the woods, it’s easy to picture him back in his bakery. The way his wife, Mary, flits around him, usually with a baby on her hip, I get a glimpse of what the war had taken away from them. A true family business. 

Except, instead of feeding paying customers, now their business is feeding a pack of strays. 

Sam’s wife picks up the jar I coveted, eyeing it. Her ocean blue eyes stand out even more against her pale skin and jet black hair. “Getting cocky now, eh?” She teases. 

“I had to.” I grin sheepishly at the woman who I consider to be my big sister. 

She glances around as if to see if anyone’s paying attention before handing it over to me. “Take it with you.” 

I shake my head. “I don’t mind sharing.” 

“I know, but you need some indulgence of your own sometimes.” 

As tempting as it was, I don’t keep anything for myself. Ever. “I do it for them.” I nod towards the kids running around, hers in the mix. “They’ve never gotten to experience the joy of jam before. I have.”

I was only trying to bring light to a potential joy for the kids, but her face contorts in displeasure. Like everyone else, she tries to make the best of it, but there are times like now, when reality smacks you so hard in the face it takes you a minute to recover. I knew she was thinking what echoed in my head everyday. It shouldn’t have to be like this. 

She shakes her head, as if shaking off the bad thoughts. “It won’t be like this for much longer. Now that all the war is officially over,” Or so we’ve heard. “Things will have to go back to normal. Slowly, but they will.” 

Her blind optimism about the state of our world has never resonated with me, but I give her a smile anyway to placate her. I hate always being the negative nelly. 

Despite not sparing him a glance, I feel Taehyung’s disapproving glare as I head for our shared tent. It was a mess of scrap material I’d sown together sloppily hanging over a frame of limbs that Taehyung built. We didn’t have enough material at the time to build one for both of us, so we’d shared, and we’ve been like that ever since. I grab my laundry off the line and head in to fold it. He, of course, follows me in. His presence behind me is tense. I should have known that taking too much would lead to his fussing. “When are you gonna give this up?” 

I sigh, falling into our same old routine. “As soon as we don’t need to anymore.” 

“You can’t steal forever. You know this isn’t right.” 

I start to unpack the bags, not bothering to look up at him to see his condescending look. “No, I don’t know that.” 

“We can hunt-”

“And how’d your last hunting trip go?” I stand up after folding everything, looking him in the eye. I don’t fault him for trying a more ethical route, but it's a delusional one. I’ve watched this man spend his whole day looking for any sign of wildlife, only to come up empty. Day after day. The Brecken not only set fire to our crops, but also the forests. The forests were left filled with charred trees, leaving no trace of life behind. Except for us. 

“You think me taking this stuff makes any difference to these people? They might feel shocked and a little pissed off, but they’ll just go and buy more stuff. Meanwhile, we have people literally dying, some from starvation, some from their poor health because of their malnutrition. Me taking this is like plucking a single strand of hair from your head. It’s merely a ripple in their pond. This food to us is saving lives. So come to me when you have a better solution, but for now, I will keep us alive.” 

The wealthy and elite stayed wealthy and elite after the war because their work did not have to do with manual labor, so it was waiting for them upon return from war. Their houses were built back with their gold, or they had second homes to fall back on. 

Those that had no savings were left homeless and jobless. Their farms, their resources, their livelihoods, are all gone. Those whose farms remained, marked the prices up so high that the average family couldn’t afford to feed themselves. 

“We could try talking to the King-” 

“For the millionth time, you won’t make it past the gates after you tell the guards what you’re there for!” 

I felt a little bad for raising my voice once I took in his sunken expression. 

Of course people had tried to talk to the King, but you have to have a valid enough reason to plead to the King. No one that I know of has ever made it past the screening to talk to the King. To them, I am just another poor beggar asking for a handout. The king couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but himself, and that had never been more clear than at the current time. 

I hate having this fight with him over and over again. I heave a sigh, laying down on my assortment of cloths. Most of them have worn holes by now, but with the roof Taehyung fastened and his body heat next to me, it’s usually enough to cut the cold.

“You’re gonna get caught eventually, and I won’t be able to live with myself when that happens.” He leaves the tent before I can respond, you can be the one to feed us then.

~

Sam directs his wife how to prepare the vegetables for the stew. Even though she probably knows most things he tells her, she always listens. She knows that if she were to stop him, he would lose his sense of purpose for good. It was the only thing he had left.

The adults try to give the kids menial tasks that teach responsibility and make them feel like they’re helping out. Sam instructs them to gather water or go and collect sticks to burn. I sit beside the fire, carving the skin off an apple with a kitchen knife I stole. Picking a few fruits from trees in backyards was much easier than breaking into houses, so I always have in-season fruits on hand. 

I tried not to pay attention to Taehyung who remained upset with me throughout the day. This is usually how it goes, and by the next morning he’s over it. My silence gets to him earlier than usual, and inevitably, he ends up being the first to break the tension. “I went to the city today,” he announces, taking a seat next to me, looking out at the fire. 

I hum, showing I am paying attention, but still upset. 

“I found a family who’s willing to let me help out on their farm.”

A weary glance is cast his way. “For money?” 

“They said once they start profiting again they’ll pay me.” The family, no doubt, found someone to loan them money to restart their business. They likely would be forever indebted. 

I roll my eyes. “And when will that be?” 

“It’s better than nothing.” He’s already getting defensive.

“Is it? Working to feed other people for free?” 

“They said they’ll feed me. That’s a payment to me.” I toss the apple peel, taking a bite of the juicy fruit. “I asked for a job for you too.” 

I shake my head. It would be too selfish to accept their free food while everyone here starves. If they do pay me, there’s no way I could make enough money to replace the amount of goods I steal for everyone. “You go ahead. I’m good.”

Sam has tried to get a job, but he’s considered useless without his hands. No one here pays attention to the scarring all up his arms anymore, it’s simply a part of him, but the real world is not so kind. They have no way of feeding their two young ones on their own. Mary was pregnant with their second when the war happened, and she gave birth only a few days after I met them. I have no siblings, so it was my first time experiencing labor, and safe to say it has scared me for life. 

The other kids are all different ages. Some tweens, some as young as five years old. Some of the older children at my camp took a few of the younger ones under their wing. All of them have been forced to grow up too soon. All of their lives are forever altered by the war. 

Done with the conversation with Taehyung, I grab the jar that has been tempting me all day. “Alright, who wants to try blackberry jam?”

Hands shoot up in eagerness and I grin, meeting Mary’s eyes over their hands. “Since she retrieved it, Ivara will be the first to try it.”

A little spark of something ignites in me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Excitement not born out of nerves. I grab the small piece of bread from her hands smothered in dark jelly.

Small faces watch mine intently for my reaction. The taste is sweeter than I remember, and I let out a satisfied noise that erupts giggles around me. Although I could sit here and down the whole jar by myself, I look at Mary and say, “Everybody’s got to try it.” 

I watch with a fat grin on my face as Mary helps the little ones all try a bite. Their faces light up at the taste of the jam, and for a moment, I let myself feel joy.

“You can’t support these people for the rest of your life,” Taehyung says, low enough where no one can catch on, but without enough bite to get his point across. 

My smile is gone now. When I look back at him, I can’t help but notice how much older he looks now. Sure, he was fifteen when we met, but he's matured more than a few years. His face is still handsome, but it deserves that youthfulness that has been stolen from him. Now, his face is always contorted into hard shapes and lines. Always concerned. “Someone has to.”  

“It’s not your responsibility.” 

I sigh like it will release the tension in his body for him. “You’re right. But, since the responsible party is currently untouchable, I’ll be stepping in.” 

~

After everyone’s belly is full and the kids have finally hit their last energy spurt, everyone settles down around the fire. Mary had started her tale about the fire breathing dragon that “Subtly” teaches kids to listen to their parents, and the kids let out a groan. 

“Not that one again!” One of the children cries, her freckled face scrunching up. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any stories left that you haven’t heard yet.” Mary looks at me over the fire. “Ivara, do you have any stories?” 

I’ve always let the others handle storytelling. It’s always been too painful to remember the stories my mother used to tell me before bed. Thinking about them always brings tears to my eyes and a sharp stabbing pain of mourning. When Marry re-tells the same ones as my mother used to, I have to slip off before anyone can catch the tears in my eyes. 

It’s been a while since that’s happened, and for some reason I feel ready to relive something again, if only to see the kid’s reactions. 

“I do have one story.” 

Squeals erupt, and Elena, Sam and Mary’s youngest, snuggles closely to her mother’s chest while Ingrid does the same to her father. The twins lean onto Sam, who has practically raised them, while Slade, who’s ten, sits by himself. He may try to say he’s too old now for stories, but I catch him listening every night. 

“Once upon a time,” I begin the same way my mother used to. “There was a little girl who always dreamed of marrying a prince.” 

I caught the adults' weariness considering their opinions on the monarch are not favorable, to say the least. This was a child's tale though, and I wasn’t going to let real life spoil it. 

“She wasn’t anybody important. She lived in a small cottage with her two parents. However, one day she got invited to a ball. Her parents saved up money to buy her a beautiful dress. Her father also saved up enough money, secretly, to buy her mother a dress just as beautiful.” 

I watch as the children’s eyes fill with stars at my story. One of a world that doesn’t exist anymore, and I wasn’t sure if it ever would again. But, something had to change. I refused to let their future turn into mine. 

~

I head to the tent and lay down long before Taehyung does, but I am still awake by the time he slides in behind me. When he lifts the blanket, the chill of the night hits my back until his body heat warms me up again. 

“I am going to get us out of here.”

I lay still, not responding to him, thinking maybe he’ll think I’m asleep. 

I remember the sounds the forest used to make before the war. It was peaceful, lullying. Now it was eerily silent. The sound of death.

I’m not sure if he knows that I'm awake or not, but he continues anyway. “I’m going to build us a house one day. It’ll have a bathroom, and a bedroom with a soft bed. One of those fancy ones made of feathers. You can visit the market and buy food till your heart’s content. We can eat until our stomachs hurt.” 

I let him daydream out loud without interrupting.

“Then, we can finally end the day without worrying about the next.” 

His words twist something in my chest. While he dreams about things like this, his words roll right through one ear to the next. I know that’s never going to happen. I don’t let myself get disappointed by made up things like he does. 

~

I never make repeat offenses. I am smart enough to know when the risks outweigh the rewards. Once someone is robbed, they’re on guard the way they should have been in the first place. But, this time I just can’t help myself. This house is too stock piled to not make a trip back, and I’ve never been able to feed everyone for a week after a run like I had after this house. 

Unable to keep track of the days, we calculate birthdays based on the season. We make them a big deal, wanting the kids' lives to have as much joy as we can possibly bring to them. I usually try to find items birthday worthy, items like I know exist in the house I last visited.

The decent sized white house is nestled into the small patch of woods I found to be surprisingly untouched by the massive fires. Though it is quite a trek, almost a day to go there and back, it’s private from any neighbors, which makes my job easier. Since it is my second time coming back, I take the time to survey the perimeter. Much to my surprise and delight, there is no one around again. Idiots. 

My feet are practically silent as I slide myself right up to the backdoor. They at least have enough sense to lock the doors. The windows however, are still open. In fact, one is standing open completely, as if inviting me in. 

I am cautious at first. Could there possibly be people stupid enough to get robbed and then leave their window open? 

But, there are no noises to be heard, and no sign of life anywhere. I can’t just turn back now. Especially not as I glance through the window and see the kitchen is fully restocked again. I climb through the window with ease, making sure my footsteps are silent when I land on the wooden floors. 

I brought an extra bag this time, and I grab things without being sparing. It’s gonna be a lot of weight, but I think I can handle it. 

The fresh loaf of bread has my mouth already salivating at the sight, and I wrapped it in a towel before storing it away. Other baked goods call out to me even though I know they’re not the most nutritional. 

There’s a cut of meat that I haven’t seen in years, fatty and expensive. It’s gonna make my load extra heavy to haul, but my stomach takes over before logic. 

When my bags are full of all the goodies I can handle, I reluctantly decide it’s time to go. It’s right before I approach the window that I hear it. The sound of horses galloping, mixed with voices. 

I scramble out of the window this time, not affording the luxury of being silent. The voices are still upfront, but if I run now, they’ll spot me when I try to go for the woods.

I just have to press myself up against the house and hope they don’t look back here first. My grip on my bag tightens at the sound of the front door opening. It’s only one man that enters through and the rest wait out front. 

I hear a swear followed by footsteps walking back outside. 

“Again?” another voice asks. 

“They only raided the kitchen again.” 

“Maybe they’re still close by, everyone spread out.” 

My heart beats loudly in my ears as I quickly decide a gameplan in my head. 

A few horses gallop past the back of the house towards the woods, and my fear impossibly worsens. I recognize those uniforms. They’re royal guards. Trained by the best to be fighters, seekers, and how to wield weapons. 

And what do I have? My worn-out bow and arrows. 

I consider myself blessed as they ride on towards the woods without looking back, assuming I’ve already ran off.

The only problem is, where to go from here? 

Once I am sure they’ve all dispersed into the woods, I head there myself. My full bags don’t make it as easy to be stealthy as I would like, but I can’t just drop them now. I still have a chance to make it. 

I’m not going to head in the direction of home, just in case. Instead, I tread carefully through the woods, eyes scanning to look for any sign of the guards. 

In my panicked state, I go the wrong direction and only realize once I don't notice any familiar marking. I try to remember little things to keep me on my track. 

I take the long way around to go home, and by this point, it’ll be long after nightfall by the time I make it home. They will worry about me, and I just pray that none of them try to come find me. Especially after I’ve sicked a royal guard their way. 

I walk for what feels like an hour. I’m in the woods now that I know well, but I’m still far from home. 

I curse my foolishness. I should have never come back. This wasn’t a game to play around. For now, I can only be grateful I didn’t get caught. I promise myself I’ll never do it again. 

I’ve been walking for a couple of hours, and I assumed a while ago that I was in the clear when the sound of something stills my footfalls. Any sound here is usually a bad thing. Most creatures lurk back in the still-living part of the forest that I left an hour ago. Everything is still dead around me.

I gaze around the hill’s horizon, hoping I imagined it. After a few moments, all seems clear until the sound of hooves comes from behind me, fast. I run as quickly as I can manage, but they creep up on me. I decide hiding is my best bet. I duck behind a tree, hoping to evade their sight. 

“Hey!” The guard yells out, alerting anyone nearby of my presence. “You are ordered to stop!” 

It only takes a blink of the eye for me to have my bow gripped tight. I aim the arrow for his leg not wanting to kill. The man lands on the ground with a groan and thud, and I don’t stick around to see what else. 

I run as fast as I can in the opposite direction, away from home. Vines and limbs stand in my way, but I brush past them without a second thought, accepting whatever bruises and cuts I get as a result. Everything is on the line for me. 

Two men round from the left, and I fire off my arrows without a second thought. My only goal is getting back home to my people. If that comes with harming people, I’ll have to do it. 

Another man jumps out at me from behind a tree and my aim is a little off. The arrow that should have hit his head is only missed by his ducking, which subsequently throws him off his horse, but it wards him off nonetheless. 

Looking back, thankfully I seem to have lost them. As soon as I turn my head back forward, my feet skid to a stop when a horse waltzes in front me. I am not sure how I didn’t see, or hear it coming. On instinct, my bow is already drawn and aimed, but once I recognize the man on the horse, my hands freeze seconds before letting go. 

“What do we have here?” The man saunters down from his horse with the elegance only royalty are taught. Still behind the drawn bow, I take in his spotless clothing sporting the royal blue and gold, and his clean dark hair combed into place. His face has a healthy glow and is freshly shaven. Everything his people can’t be. Coming to stand in front of me, the Prince, Jungkook, eyes the bags that I am wearing, and I curse myself for not storing them away somewhere first. 

“Are you my little thief?” 

The barrage of men on horses start to form a circle around me and I curse my life. 

~

The large castle settled into the edge of the coast is just how I remember it. I’ve been a few times before, but never as a prisoner. If younger me could see how I turned out, how the world has turned out, I am not sure I would want to keep going. 

I used to dream of being able to marry someone in the palace, catching their eye at the balls I would attend. He would ask me to dance and fall for me then and there. Much like the story I told the children last night. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of anything romantic, I wasn’t sure what made me think of it. 

After being restrained and forced on a horse with a guard, I’ve been silently stewing. If looks could kill, the Prince would have a hole in the back of his head by now. I’ve never despised anyone more. I’d spent sleepless nights cursing his bloodline and thinking over everything I’d say to him if I’d ever see him. 

He and his guards eat the stolen food shamelessly in front of me while I do without. I’m used to being hungry, but this hunger hurts more than ever. This hunger was so purposeful, there was no mistaking. He didn’t care about my well-being. 

It’s not until I reach the castle and I am being directed away from the Prince as he heads towards his palace and I head for the prison that I start to boil over. “Your people that you’ve sworn to protect, they’re gonna die without me!”

He watches me from his horse as I am being dragged away, struggling to face him. I figure this is the only time the Prince will be able to hear what I have to say. Might as well get it all out now. “They’re starving, they have no ways to provide for themselves. The war left them with nothing.” His face remains passive, but he doesn’t look away. 

The guard behind me grabs the matted hair on the back of my head, forcing me to face forward and walk so I can’t see him anymore, but I continue. “You’ve done nothing for your people! They needed help, and you abandoned them!” 

A strong hand pushes against my back, pushing me toward the prison that resides under the castle. 

This is it. I am gonna get my hands chopped off. The thought makes me sick, but unlike Taehyung said, I don’t regret it. I don’t regret keeping my people alive. They didn’t do anything to deserve such a shitty hand in life. 

And what did these people do to deserve a palace? What do they do for others? They’re nothing but cowards hiding behind the lives of other people. They never have to face the repercussions of their actions, they’re always safe. 

The guard unlocks the dungeon from the outside door and shoves me in. The room is dark and damp, the must invading my senses. The only light comes from the small barred windows above each cell, casting slants of light as well as the hung candles for the guards to see their tread. 

There’s enough light to just make out the first figure. A man with a graying beard down to his stomach. He’s skinny enough you can see most of his bones. The eyes I meet hold nothing behind them. No heartache or sadness, just emptiness. 

The rest of the prisoners aren’t much better, and I decide to stop looking. They ceased hangings right before the war, though looking at these men now, I wonder if it’s a more promising fate. 

My offense wouldn’t qualify for the cutting of my head anyway, just my hands. I had heard of it, when I was younger, seen men as proof. It’s a dreary way to live life, deprived of arguably your most useful body parts. I’ve seen how Sam struggles. 

The guard undoes my shackles before pushing me into an open cell. It’s no bigger than the tent that me and Taehyung share, only the ground is a lot harder and I don’t have a blanket to bite the cold. I’ll never complain about my makeshift sleeping quarters again. If I return. 

~

The night passes impossibly long. I can’t stop thinking about the people I left behind. What will they think when I return, handless? Should I even return? I’d be a shame to them without my hands. 

No, I have to. They won’t survive without me. To feed her children, Mary will try to take up the only job offered to women. Selling her body to wealthy men that were willing. She’d tried it once, and I had never seen Sam rage the way he had that night. I’d never let that happen again.

I burrow my nose into a few, seemingly clean, straws of haw, trying to drown out whatever wretched smells that make their way towards me. Some people moan nonstop, some hum, some sing. Some mindlessly talk to themselves, but all are quieted by the guards when they get too loud. 

I can’t sleep. Not in a trap in the ground with a bunch of strange men surrounding me. I welcome daylight, even if I know what it brings. At least I’ll be free from this place.

The light seeping through the small windows wakes me long before I feel rested. I feel as though I just blinked and was awake. 

A guard stops at my cell and orders me to follow him. This is it. I block out my thoughts as he guides me with my hands and legs still shackled. Just don’t think about it, I tell myself. Pain is temporary. I’ll live, that’s what’s important. I’ll figure out how to go on. I’ve done it before. 

I know every criminal is brought before the King who ultimately gets to decide their fate. That’s why, when I am led outside and around the castle, I am confused. 

The Prince is standing in the clearing of the green expanse I know to be for weapon practice. Targets are lined up along the fence line. On his back rests a bow and a bag of quivers. He smiles when he sees me, the sight turning my stomach. What a sick bastard. 

With his spotless clothing he probably never wears twice, and his full stomach. Thinking of the clothes I’ve been wearing for years, and the ones that fell apart before I stole these. 

That first time I robbed him, I wish I would have taken everything he had. And then set the house on fire. The guard stops me a few feet before him and shocks me even more by removing my hand shackles before walking away. 

I hate the way the Prince stalks towards me, as if he owns the earth. He may claim to own this kingdom, but it doesn’t belong to him or his family.  “How did you learn archery?” 

I contemplate his question. It’s hard for me to talk about, but I guess I’ll never get a chance to talk to royalty again, something most people never get the advantage to. I can’t afford to ignore this opportunity. “My father was a royal guard. He was an archer.” 

He looks intrigued like I knew he would, prompting the next question. “Name?” 

“Aldris.” I say the name proudly. I see the recognition flit across his face, and he studies me for a moment, as if trying to see my father in me. 

“And your mother?” 

“Died in one of the medical tents. They were ambushed.” It feels satisfying in some odd way, to be able to finally tell them what they had taken away from me. To show them the face of someone whose life is forever broken because of the sacrifices that were made for them.

His face doesn’t change as he says, “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

I’m about to deny his statement’s truth when something is shoved in my hands. I hold the bow, sunsure of why it’s there in the first place. All I can do is stare at it in astonishment. “You’re not gonna cut off my hands?” 

“We’ll see.” He hands me an arrow and I reluctantly load the bow. It’s like I am taking a test that I haven’t studied for and the wrong answer could kill me. 

The target is about a hundred feet away. It’s been years since I’ve aimed at one. My dad built one for my yard, and my mother didn’t approve, saying it was a safety hazard. He didn’t listen though, and I spent hours practicing with my dad. 

It wasn’t necessarily that I loved archery, but I loved that he loved it. I loved seeing his eyes light up when I would succeed. I wanted him to be proud of me. 

The bow in my hands is much heavier and tighter than I’m used to with my childhood bow. I try my best to accommodate to the slack, resting the pulled string against my face. 

The arrow hits just above the middle circle. If my dad was here, he’d tell me I can do better than that. Glancing at the Prince, I expect him to look disappointed. Instead, he remains unpassive. 

“Step back.” 

I stare at him for a moment and he gestures behind me impatiently. I obey, drawing the bow once more. I have a better sense of how it’s going to shoot now, adjusting my aim for the new distance. This time, the arrow lands in the dead center. 

“Further.” He keeps repeating that phrase until I’m nearer to the castle than I am the targets. I’m a show pony forced to do tricks for him. Like a cat playing with a mouse right before taking a bite out of it. 

“You’re pretty brave to give me a weapon,” I finally speak after a while, not bothering to hide my annoyance. 

“What are you going to do, shoot me?” He sports a full grin, but once he takes in the rage in my eyes, it fades. “If you shoot me, you’ll be shot the first step you take.” 

I glance around the perimeter, eyeing the many men with weapons at the ready. “What makes you think I value my life that much?” Do I enjoy my life more than I would enjoy his death? It isn’t an easy answer.

In a twisted way, I enjoy that he looks taken aback, clearly not expecting me to say something so dark. 

“You have people relying on you, do you not?” 

Instantly, fear strikes me hard in the gut. I shouldn’t have told him that. He can leverage their lives at his will. He doesn’t know who they are yet, but it won’t take long digging around in the woods to find them. If they haven’t already. There’s no telling what they would do to them. A camp full of stolen food on kingdom property. 

I reload my bow, and draw it back, all while keeping eye contact with him. Without glancing at the target, I release my grip. He looks away first. The arrow landed near the center, not on the red, but close enough. 

When doesn’t immediately request I shoot again I begin to relax until he says, “How would you feel about becoming a royal guard?” 

The shock of the offer hits me like a brick. I might be honored if it were anyone else thinking I’m talented. “I’d rather have my hands chopped off.” Than to be at the mercy of someone who doesn’t care about my well being or those around me. Someone who would use me as a weapon, and completely disregard that I’m a person with a life worth something.

Surely, he reads the disgust in my face and tone, but he almost looks amused. “Very well then. Follow me.” 

I’m dumbstruck in place, causing him to turn and look for me. “Come on, then.” 

I follow after him, if only out of curiosity. “You’re actually going to cut my hands off?” 

He hums, heading into the castle with a purpose. My steps falter before I skid to a stop. I thought I was in the clear, but now the fear resurfaces. 

“Do I need to get a guard to escort you?” 

Numbly, I follow behind him. The room he walks into is just off of the prison. Inside, all kinds of sharp devices lay. The one that stands out to me, the one that he walks over to, is a tall wooden structure with a thin, shiny piece of metal waiting at the top to meet at the bottom with another metal piece. I guess that’s the hand-chopper.  

The prince glances at me stuck in the doorway. He seems to be enjoying my fear. I knew the royals were lowlifes, but I had no idea what a truly heartless man he is. He is eating up any fear I give off. He thrives off of making me uncomfortable. Gesturing towards the contraption he says, “Sit there, and place your hands here.” 

Reluctantly, I do as he says, my body feeling like it weighs double. Glancing briefly up at the sharp blade, my stomach turns so bad I have to close my eyes. Maybe I should take back what I said, and beg for my life, but I don’t. I’d rather have my hands chopped off then admit I’m sorry to the Prince and vow service to him. 

He adjusts my hands on the wooden board, and I let him, sitting there like a fool. A fool that gave up the option of not getting her hands cut off.  “Ready?” 

The question is taunting, and my anger towards him distracts me momentarily from my fear. 

My heart feels as though it might beat out of my chest, my whole body starting to tremble. He releases the lever, and as the blade flies down towards my hands, I call him every bad name I've ever learned. A loud smack sound of metal hitting metal causes me to almost jump out of my seat. I open my eyes and find my hands still intact, the blade resting near the tip of my fingers. 

I was so nervous I didn’t even realize my hands weren’t resting on the metal. 

“Your highness, what are you doing here?” a deep voice asks from the doorway. An older man waits there. I can tell this is his space, and he’s not too happy the Prince is here without permission, but he rides the line of formality. 

The prince turns to the man and smiles. “I was just showing Miss Aldris around. She is going to be a guard soon.” 

I have a hard time registering what he just said, the adrenaline still coursing through my body. I pull my hands back from the wooden slab, marveling that I still have them, and hide their shaking between my legs. 

The man bows to me. “Much respect, Miss y/ln.” 

“We’ll be heading out now.” 

The prince glances at me with the expectation that I will follow him. I know he’s used to people trailing him like puppies, but how can he expect me to stand when my legs feel like mush? 

Somehow I manage to stand without collapsing. I hide my trembling hands behind my back and force my legs to move. 

Satisfied that I got up, the Prince leaves without glancing back at me. I look at the older man, trying to plead with him with my eyes while I follow the Prince out. “You’re really going to make me a guard?” I ask once we’re out in the hallway. 

He turns to me, intrigued. “Why do you hate the prospect so much that you’re willing to trade your hands in exchange?”

I don’t back down from his intense gaze. “I don’t have a problem risking my life for people who deserve it.” 

His head tilted to the side, as if merely intrigued and not insulted. “The royal family is not worth it?” 

My silence is all the answer he needs. “I should have you beheaded.” Somehow after what just happened, his words mean nothing to me.  “Instead, I guess I’ll just have to torture you. Come.” 

I’m not as nervous as I probably should be. Maybe I underestimate him because of his inability to chop my hands off, or maybe it’s my lack of care for my own life. I only worry about the people I’ve left behind and how they’re going to fare with me gone. 

“You will be provided with a place to stay, a wardrobe, and there is free food in the canteen. And of course, you will be paid a monthly salary.” 

It’s laughable if he thinks that's worth risking my life for his family’s. Nothing is worth it to me. He could throw in all the goods or diamonds in the world and I still wouldn’t agree. 

For a second, the thought that maybe I can start sending my salary back home for them crosses my mind before I quickly dismiss it. It’s dirty money. I need to find another way of making money instead of being the royal’s lap dog. They profit off of the same people who I left back home. 

The main halls of the castle are pristine. I am not in awe of the opulence. It is in utter disgust I take in the richness around me. I want to smear the perfectly white marble with the blood of those they’d failed, staining it forever like the lives of their loved ones were tainted with their losses. 

The prince stops in front of a door, surprising me when he knocks. I didn’t know royalty had to knock. 

“Come in!” an older lady’s voice rings through. 

“Miss Moira.” The woman has fully gray, curly hair, tucked up onto her head with various pins. Her face and hands are wrinkled, but her dress is neatly in place. 

“She needs to be fitted for a guard uniform.”  

The woman appears shocked by the requests, but says a quick, “Yes, your highness” and bows to the Prince. I glare at him even after he walks away. 

I can’t believe he just left me here. I could run now, but has he alerted the guards to be on the look for me running? They don’t know my face….

“Stand over here, child.” The older woman gestures to the small round platform in front of her, drawing me out of my thoughts of escape.  

There’s no way in hell I’m becoming a royal guard. The prince can stomp his feet and cross his arms and throw whatever fit he wants. I will not fight for this family. 

But, I decide the smartest thing to do is to go along with it for now. If I throw a fit now, they will lock me up on watch. My disappearance should be more mysterious. No one should know when I leave. 

Glancing at the mirror, it’s the first time in years I’ve seen myself not in a water reflection. I don’t look like I’d always imagined I would. I never gained a womanly figure, but that could be due to lack of nutrition. My face is almost intimidating to look at, and I can only manage small glances up at it, like I’m scaring myself. It’s not soft and feminine like my mother’s was. My father always said it was her kind face and shy smile that drew him in. There’s no trace of that in my reflection and the revelation saddens me. 

I can’t help but wonder if my parents could see me now, what would they think? Would they be disappointed? Would they not even recognize me the way I can’t even recognize my own face?

I’m nervous standing on the platform as the woman flits around me, pinning the uniform material around my body. I flinch when she gets close to me with the sharp objects, but somehow she never sticks me with the pins. 

“I have to say this is a first for me. But, we have smaller men that I’ve made uniforms for. This is quite similar, only I’ll have to adjust for the bust.” 

It takes a minute for the realization of her words to sink in.“There are no female guards?” 

“Not in my lifetime, dear.”

Surely the Prince is making a spectacle of me, trying to humiliate me. I’m going to get eaten up and swallowed alive if I try to be the first female royal guard. Maybe that’s his version of torture for me. He’s gonna throw me to the wolves that are sexually deprived and socially repressed soldiers who’d only see me as useful for them in one way. Just when I thought my opinion of him couldn’t get any lower. 

After about an hour, there's another knock on the door. “Come in,” Moira calls. 

A man creaks the door open slowly, nervously glancing around, as if expecting to accidentally invade someone’s privacy. Once he sees I’m fully dressed, he fully opens the door. “I’m to show you to your room.” He clears his throat after, standing up straighter. The man is a little lanky for a royal guard in my opinion, like a sword would topple him over. His face is young, so I assume he must be new. 

After saying goodbye to Moira, I follow after him, confused as to what “my room” is. My father lived in the guard quarters before he met my mother and decided to start a family so I never got to see them. I was raised in a small cottage on the royal grounds that are made for the help. I lived there until the war struck, turning everything upside down. 

“I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he introduces himself once we begin walking down the hall.

“Ivara,” it didn’t feel right not to introduce myself to him. He’s not the reason why I’m here.  

Noise grows from somewhere to the right. Sounds of people talking and dishes rattling. “That’s the canteen. It’s open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The food’s not great, but it’s free.”

He leads me round a few hallways and down the stairs. I pass by halls lined with dozens of rooms. I remember my father told me that the dormitories are separated by job. Maids with maids, cooks with cooks, and guards with guards. 

“This is your quarters.” He stands in the doorway while I walk in to examine the room. It's a decent size, about the same as the room I grew up in. A small bed sits in the corner and a wooden armoire on the other side with a measly chair to sit on. 

“Your tailored clothes will be sent to your room as soon as they’re done. For now, there should be clothes in your wardrobe.”

“I was told to inform you, you will be joining the training tomorrow morning. I will come and get you at sunrise. Do you, uh- have any questions?” He nervously rubs the back of his neck. Clearly, this is his first time showing someone around.

Yes, I do have questions. Starting with, why the fuck am I here? Since I’m sure he cannot answer the real questions I have I shake my head. He bows before shutting the door behind him, leaving me all alone.

I can’t believe the Prince actually made me a guard, or at least is trying to. Why? Why didn’t he just punish me the traditional way? Is he this sadistic that he has some elaborate plan of ruining my life? All because I stole some of his food? From his second home? 

The sheets smell fresh and the furniture is dusted. They must have expected my arrival. There’s a small window towards the ceiling above my bed. I climb onto the small bed, trying to peer outside. The door locks from the inside, but I half expect it to be locked. I’m still shocked when it opens. 

I decide to head out when the sun disappears. There’s women chatting in the hallway when I emerge. Some of them have their doors open and I can see the gaggles of women in them. All of them are dressed in maids outfits. They stuck me in the maids’ quarters. It’s a small relief.

All eyes turn to me once I step out and the chatter stops. I’m just as confused as they are about my own presence here. 

Instead of going in the direction I came from, I head the opposite way. There’s a few more halls of residence until it finally comes to an end, and I’m granted with a side door. It leads directly outside, the left side of the courtyard. 

A blur flashes from the corner of my eye before my feet are being swept out from under me by a strong force. My ass thuds on the ground, and the perpetrator sniffs at me a second before retrieving his ball that had rolled to the side and taking off. Looking up, I find a prince with an apologetic, but amused look on his face. I wonder if it’s the same dog he had when we were kids. 

He’s almost to the Prince’s waist, his brown and black body is lean, but sturdy as I experienced first hand. His coat shines like a pearl, indicative of how well taken care of he is. The dog returns the ball to his owner, squatting in anticipation for the next throw. 

I quickly look away from the Prince, anger brewing inside of me at the sight of him. I wonder what sort of twisted plan he’s brewing up by making me a guard. He may think he has the upperhand now, but I’m not trapped here. I refuse to be. 

My obvious lack of threat to him pisses me off, but I have to use it to my advantage. He may think he’s slick by giving me free reign of the place, dangling freedom in front of me. But, I will make him regret it. I will make him regret underestimating me. 

I walk the premise of the castle, noting where each guard is stationed. The greenery runs into the woods not far from where I’m at. It should be easy to slip into the trees at night. No one the wiser. 

It’s dark when I make it back inside. Thankfully, the halls are clear and I peacefully make it back to my room. The soft cushion of a mattress is something I haven’t felt in years. The fact that I actually have covers to sleep in feels unreal. 

My mind drifts to the camp. What are they thinking happened to me? Hopefully they can get by with what I stole before I can return. 

Taehyung’s gonna be pissed when I get back, and I can already hear his “I told you so’s”. I won’t even mind hearing them. In fact, I can’t wait to hear them. 

Even though I’m forced to be here, I feel guilty for sleeping in a real bed when I know back at camp there are three kids sharing one blanket on the ground under a quilt I nabbed. 

It’s the first time I’ve slept without Taehyung in years. Last night didn’t count, only if you count passing in and out as sleeping. I keep reaching out for him, only to realize where I am. I don’t want to sleep, but it finds me anyway. 

“You will have to complete all five trails to pass and move on to combat training.” 

Five? I quickly go over the tests in my mind. There should be four. What was the fifth? My heart speeds up faster than its already racing beat.

I’m shuffled along with a group of men to my first test, but my mind can’t clear from what was just said. Fifth trail. I scan the area for any extra setup, but come up short. What could it possibly be? 

My first test is the bags. It's a pain in my ass, but better to get it over with I guess. I don’t dare glance at any of the men lined up beside me, or pay any mind to the things they’re saying. There’s ten of us in a row, and several rows behind us waiting to start as soon as we’re done. 

My sergeant explains the rules, same as usual, except, “You must be one of the first six to pass this trial. The remaining 40% will be required to move to the back of the line. You will not be able to move on to another trial until you pass this one.”

Well, that was new. If that same rule applies to the hanging challenge, I’ll never pass. I try not to think about it right now. 

I’m aware of the dozens of eyes on me, but I use it to fuel me. The whistle sounds and I sprint as fast as I can. What I lack in strength to drag the bag back, I can make for with speed. As it’s the first thing I’ve done this morning, it proves to be slightly easier than normal. 

The first person completes it, then the second, then the third, fourth, fifth. The man beside me is slightly ahead of me. I can’t redo this one. It’s already drained a lot of my energy. I dig my heels into the ground, gritting my teeth. While he carries the bag on his shoulder, and I drag it on the ground, I manage to gain speed on him due to his exhaustion. 

I finish sixth by a hair. 

Some people cheer, some, including the losers, protest. All fall on deaf ears to me. 

My test is running. This one is usually the easiest, but my energy is significantly drained from trying not to fail the last trial. 

I finish third. Next comes the rope. 

“You must be one of the first six to grab your cloth from the top to pass.” 

So, that definitely will be a common rule. I’m fucked.

My respite from being in the back of the line is over before I’ve fully gained my breath back. The sun feels like fire cooking me from above. I wipe the sweat from my palms onto my pants. 

My body moves on the sound of the whistle. I don’t notice the others around me, all I know is getting my white cloth tied on top of the pole that the rope is tied to. It’s only when I reach the top that I realize it’s gone. 

I glance around me to find nothing around me, the others beside me are done already.  Not able to hold on any longer, I climb back down the rope. 

Confused, I glance around. The man beside clutches two in his hand, grinning ear to ear, already celebrating with his friends. I march up to his side.

“You stole my cloth.”

The man turns around, still grinning. “Maybe if you were faster, you would have got it.”

“Aldris, you did not pass. Back of the line!” Sergeant yells. 

“He stole my cloth.” I point to the perpetrator. 

The sergeant shrugs. “Get there first next time.”

My rage boils so hot I can feel it in my ears. I stomp to the back of the line. At least I won’t be competing with that same guy again. I can only hope no one else messes with me. 

I finish sixth on the rope trials the second time. It leaves the one I’ve been dreading. The hanging test. My body, especially my arm strength is spent from redoing the ropes. 

When it’s my turn, I wipe my hands again, taking a deep breath. It’s all mental, I tell myself. I’ve heard of people performing acts of great strength because they had to survive. This was one of those moments. I had to survive.

Only a minute in and I’m ready to let go. I tell myself not to panic and take another deep breath. The first man drops. That’s a good sign. Others will start dropping soon. 

Another breath. Another. If I can make it through just one more breath, maybe I'll survive.

My hands scream in protest, my arms shaking. I won’t last much longer. The second person drops, then the third. 

When I hear the sound of the fourth man drop, my hands slip free. 

~

I stand in line with the other men who have already completed the first four. We are finally awarded water, but they are making us wait around for some reason. 

I see the man that stole my flag approaching, and I have half a mind to turn the other way, but I don’t want him to think of me as a coward. I stand firm as he approaches my space, a sneer already on his face. “Don’t get cocky now just because you passed this. This is only the beginning. When you go on to actually train with your weapon, there is no way you’ll pass. They only choose the best of the best. Some men try for years before being accepted into the royal guard. Some, never do pass. Greater men than you.” 

I hold his gaze, not giving him a reaction that he wants. He looks me up and down in disgust before walking away. I know that even when I do pass, it still won’t be enough for them. 

One of the Sergeants comes forward, “After completing combat training, you will move on being trained for your station. The placement tests will be split between-” I tune him out when I catch the Prince’s eye. Why does Jungkook look so worried? 

“Archers!” I turn back at the call. ‘Go to the right.” 

Wait. We are taking the placement tests now? After just having been run ragged? How is that fair? 

My arms are weak and in no shape to be holding a bow right now. Numbly, I stumble over to the archery section. Fuck this kingdom and their unfair rules. 

This must be the “fifth trial” they talked about. 

Jungkook

“Here, you will be put into ranks based on your skill. Those that do not qualify will be sent back to basic training.” Just the thought of having to endure that again sent a wave of apprehension through the crowd. I know how they feel. I’ve been there once too when I was younger. I had to pass all the trials to get where I am today. Just because I’m the prince didn’t mean I would get to cut corners. “Those at the bottom may climb to the top, but it takes hard work and discipline. It is not an easy feat to become one of the royal guards.” 

I watch a few yards away from the trials, and true to his word, my father sits beside me to watch Ivara. If she’s not good enough, my father will have her gotten rid of. If she’s too good, he will want her for himself. 

The first test is a target 50 yards away. She had done that easily the first day I tested her skills. The next test is 20 more yards away. Then, 20 more. The people who miss a shot are taken out of the trial immediately. The numbers dwindle down quickly. What started as around 200 men has soon turned into around 30. 

Then, the targets start moving. Shielded men run across the courtyard with targets painted brightly on their shields, projectiles in the air that explode on impact. Ivara hits each one.  

She pays no mind to the men around her that miss and cuss, glaring at her, as if it’s her fault they didn’t hit the target. They are placed into their rankings on the sideline based on where they scored at. The archery division has 7 ranks total. 

The stealth and ease at which she draws her bow is mesmerizing to watch. It’s almost as if there is no thought behind her movements with how effortless they are, but I know  that’s not true. She is calculating her every move. Including the speed and direction of the wind. Truly, the only time we’d seen someone this skilled was when her father served. There is no denying her expertise.

She doesn’t miss a single target. 

“Where did you find this girl?” my father asks. 

“I just got lucky.” That was one way to put it. In a way, I did feel lucky that I had found her, but I had no guarantee what she was thinking at any moment. She could turn that bow in a second and pierce me right between the eyes, and I would not be the least bit surprised. Had I accidentally welcomed death with open arms? Told her to make herself at home?  Even still with the possible threat she poses, I could not find it in myself to regret recruiting her. If only, for what she has opened my eyes to.

“I want her on my personal rotation.” 

There it was. The thing I’ve been dreading since my father found out about her. 

Regardless of her hatred for my father, it’s a terrible idea. The king’s guards hold the most dangerous positions in the kingdom. Because of her skill, there’s no telling what kind of dirty work he would assign her.

The only way to truly make sure that she is safe and have some sense of control over what happens to her here, she has to become my guard. 

“I’ve already promised her that she would work for me.” A white lie,  he would never find out the truth. 

“So? It should be an honor to serve for the king. Most guards would kill for the position.”

“I would like for her to be mine. Mateo is retiring, and so far, no one else I have examined comes close to his skill.” 

I so rarely oppose my father’s opinions that I thought, surely, he will take me seriously if I’m willing to object to something his father wants. 

“Very well. It might not be a bad place to start. She may be a good archer, but that doesn’t mean she has the wit or stealth it takes to become one of my guards. For now, she can go with you.” 

I try not to let my relief show through. “Thank you, your majesty.”  

They keep sending her to the next station and the next. The targets are moving faster. She doesn’t miss a single one. 

Two others and her remain for a while. At last, she hits the target, and they do not. But, they keep her going. She has not yet passed the seventh rank challenge yet.

She glances back, and I couldn’t tell if it was an accident or not, but her confused gaze met mine. Is she not aware of what’s happening right now?

~

The trials seemed to have gone on forever, and yet, were over too soon. I’m not sure were I ranked. They didn’t tell me.

I’m wasn’t worried until I spot the Prince’s expression. What does he know that I don’t? 

After I was the last one standing, I thought the trials would end. But they went on, and on. 

The guards who were in charge of the trials paused, discussing something with each other. I turned briefly to look at the king, as if there would be answers there. 

What I found twisted my gut. He was sitting on his throne, surrounded by trays of food. Food that he picked at his leisure, not a care in the world for how many people that could feed. Not a care for the starving people in his kingdom. 

I’ve never had violent thoughts before. I’ve never wished ill upon anyone. At that moment, I wished for the King’s death, and nothing more. 

It’s not worth it, I repeat like a mantra over and over in my head to keep from turning the arrow in his direction. 

If I die, I’ll leave everyone behind to suffer. Jungkook might not continue to help the needy. I have to live.

One day, I tell myself, but not today. 

“Come back in the morning to receive your stationing,” A guard tells me when they’re finally  finished with me

I guess I would find out in the morning. The only thing I care about right now is getting to my room so I can pass out. 

“Aldris!”

I groan internally, turning to the voice keeping me from my bed. I find a few different men behind tables handing out small sacks. 

“Come get your first paycheck!”

~

The money in my hand turns my stomach. I worked for the money, but it doesn’t feel like mine. 

What else am I supposed to do with it if not help my family out? It’s not the ideal way to provide for them, but when you have limited options, it would be dumb not to take what you can. 

The only question for me now is, do I stay and keep earning money, or take what I have and run? 

~

The day finally comes. My first time I’ll be able to leave by myself. I know better than to be too optimistic about my situation. Something is bound to go wrong. That’s just the way my life works. But, even still, I cannot contain the small bit of satisfaction I feel at holding my first paycheck, knowing I’ll get to see Taehyung later. 

I stand in line, waiting for my turn for my rank to be read. Some men leave overjoyed, some in rage, some in tears. 

“Aldris.” I step forward at my name. “ You have tested out of combat trials.” He checks his notes twice, as if not believing what is written in front of him. “You are assigned to Prince Jungkook’s personal guard.” 

He looks me up and down, doubting my qualification, probably thinking the same as others, that I’m sleeping with Jungkook. That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“H-how?” 

“You passed every test given in all 7 ranks. There is no reason for you to train when you have already passed the same trial you would take at the end of combat training. You will be assigned to your station and your training for your post will begin.”

Will the training ever end? At least I won’t be put through any more needless trials. Or, so I hope.

“You will need to wait over there,” he points to where Namjoon is standing. 

Namjoon does a double take upon seeing me. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be over there?” He points to the archery ranks. 

“They told me I tested out of the trials.”

His mouth gapes open. “Do you know how rare it is for someone to test out of combat trials? I mean, I’ve heard of it happening after a few weeks, but not after their first trial.”

Together we are led up to a room that I assume is Jungkook’s office.

Namjoon can’t stop muttering about my impossible achievement. “I’ve spent two years in combat trials. I failed my Swordsman entry-level test the first time I took it. Then again, they do take a lot more strength than the archery tests, but still.”

Jungkook sits at the head of a table, Namjoon beside me, and two other men gather round. There are three of us that are new. The other new guard, Jimin, is also a swordsman. I’m the only new archer. I listen as he outlines our new duties. “After your guard training is complete, those that are swordsmen will be stationed outside of my quarters in shifts. Archers will be given a post inside the wall. You all will travel with me, wherever I go.” 

Wherever? But, what about our escapades that were supposedly a secret?

“This is Mateo.” Jungkook introduces the older man sitting across from me. He is clean cut, his grey hair neatly in place. He bears quite a few badges on his uniform. “He has served for the royal family for forty years. He is retiring, and he will be training you three to take on your new roles. Once your training is complete, you will be sworn in, and your duties will officially begin.”

“Once you are sworn in,” he looks directly at me, and I get the hint to pay attention. “You will not be allowed to abandon your post. Doing so is punishable by death.” The others appear to know this information already. “The only exception for this rule is a rare exemption from the commander, or appropriate retirement.”

The rest of the meeting is going over details, and I make sure I’m the last one to leave. 

“I would like to speak with you alone.” 

Jungkookk sighs, shutting the door like he knew it was coming. He stands across from me, slowly crossing his arms like he’s preparing himself for whatever I have for him.

“Why did you choose me to be your guard? You really think I’d throw myself in front of an arrow for you?”

“No, I do not.” He laughs, “But I think you’d start shooting if arrows were coming at us. And I don’t think you’d miss.” I don’t like being included in the same “us” as him. 

“Did you have something to do with me skipping combat trials?” He is the commander after all. He should have the last say. 

He holds his hands up in defense. “That was all you. You passed all of the trials, even the ones it takes some men years to accomplish. There was little room for doubt that you are prepared.”

“I do not wish to kill anyone.” 

“For now, you will still be in training. “‘ will teach you . I haven’t had an attempt on my life since before the war. You will only need to kill if there is a threat to our kingdom, and I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon.”

“I refuse to kill. Especially for you,” with that, I let myself out of the room.  

I pack up my things I’ve accumulated since being here. The clothes that Jungkook bought me, a hairbrush, and a toothbrush. I should take the covers too. I wish I could take everything with me. The reality of having to go back to sleeping on the ground and not knowing when my next meal will be hits me like a punch to the gut. It’s been getting chilly at night, but I’d never known it because I’ve been warm in a bed. A bed that I wouldn’t have anymore. I wouldn’t have three full meals again. No more paychecks. No more helping Jungkook help people. 

I pause at the ring sitting on my nightstand. I should return it to him, but then he might suspect that I’m trying to leave. I decide to leave it on the nightstand. If he checks my room for me, he’ll find it. 

I grab my bag of things and head for the door before I can talk myself out of leaving.  

~

The day that Taehyung and I put our tent together, it was the first time since my parents died that I felt like things might be okay. I felt safe with him. 

Whenever one of us began to spiral into doomed thoughts, we always had the other to bring us out of it. 

Friendship doesn’t feel strong enough to describe our relationship. He, Sam, and Mary got me through the toughest time of my life. They held me when grief overcame me and the sobs racked my body. 

I’m not sure where I would be without him, and I hate even imagining it. 

~

 I wait until near nightfall when Taehyung would be leaving his job. That way I can catch him alone. When the sun sets, I hear the first croak of frogs and chirp of bugs I’ve heard in years. Maybe I’m reading into something too much, but it feels promising. 

“Taehyung,” I call from where I’m waiting in the trees around the corner. 

It takes him a moment to spot me. “Ivy.” He runs towards me and scoops me into his arms tightly. I squeezed him back. It’s such a relief to be able to see him again and hear his voice. 

“Are you okay?” He quickly pulls back to look at me frantically. 

“I’m fine. What about you?” 

“Fuck me, why were you with the prince the other day?”

I knew that was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier to explain. “It will take a while to explain.” 

We sit ourselves somewhere out of sight of the rest of the world. Suddenly, I’m fifteen again, sitting nervously across from Taehyung in the dark woods. 

“When you didn’t come back that night, We split up to look for you. In a way, I was glad there was no trace of you. I couldn’t stop thinking about finding your body somewhere. I couldn’t sleep. Not until I saw you that day and knew you were still alive. Fuck, I wanted to run to you so badly, but I trusted you when you told me not to come over. As long as you were alive, that was enough for me.”

I hate the fact that I made them worry about me. I knew if the roles were reversed and Taehyung disappeared, I would be sick. “I was captured by the royal guard. It was the prince’s house that I robbed.”

He swears under his breath. 

“They took me back to the castle, and-” here comes the hardest part to explain. “As punishment, they made me a royal guard.”

His brow furrows. “A Guard?” He is just as confused as I, and everyone else was. “So that’s why you were with him?”

“Kind of?” 

“Kind of?” he repeats.

“How have you been making it?” I change the subject, and he takes the bait.

He glances nervously away. “I did it.” 

Now it’s my turn to be confused. “Did what?” 

“I stole.” He sees my expression fall and scrambles to explain. “I had to. I got paid a little bit, but not enough to feed everyone.”

Of course I felt guilty the first night that I stole, but it would be nothing compared to what Taehyung is feeling, the desperation he would have been pushed to to do it.  

“I’m so sorry that I left everyone behind-” 

“I’m not saying it to guilt you. You shouldn’t have to be our sole provider, and I think everyone got a little too comfortable relying on you.” 

“What about everyone else? How are they doing?”

“Mary and Sam go out everyday for jobs. They get paid sometimes for a day, but nothing permanent. 

“Some people have left. They don’t believe you’re coming back. But you are, aren’t you? You’re coming back with me?”

I could never hide anything from Taehyung, he knows me too well. He knows instantly what my answer is without me having to say anything. 

“I have a plan.” A plan, that if successful, will not only be beneficial for my makeshift family I left behind, but our entire kingdom. “I need to stay at the castle, but I promise, I will take care of you guys.” 

He looks away, as if merely looking at me offends him. “I can’t believe this right now,” he mutters, shaking his head.

I shove the sack of coins into his hands to try and help salvage the situation. “What’s this?” His face scrunches up before realization hits. “This is your paycheck.”

“Yes. It should be enough to buy a few loaves of bread and meat. I get paid every month. Try to make it last.” 

“I’m not taking your blood money.” He shoves it back into my hand. Taehyung knows how I feel about the royal family. Many nights, he listened to me rant about how mistreated my father was. He’s listened to me go on about how I blame them for my parents’ deaths. I’ve become the exact thing I swore I’d never. 

Even still, my heart hurts at the rejection. “I worked my ass off for this money.” 

“Then, keep it,” he says with bitterness.   

“Why are you acting like this? This could feed everyone-” 

He suddenly stands. “Because I want you to come back! Not play soldier for a kingdom you hate.” 

Even though we are alone, I fear someone might hear us. I stand with him. “You want me to come back and what? Go back to stealing? You’re the one who bitched at me to get a job, well look at me now! I did it and you’re still not happy!” 

“Does he have something on you? He’s forcing you to stay?”

It would be easy to say yes. It would give a logical reason for him to digest as to why I’m not coming with him. I’ve never been able to lie to him. 

“No.”

He shakes his head again. “You’ve changed. The Ivy I know would have never accepted money from them.” 

“Sometimes change is necessary.”  

I throw the sack of coins at him before hopping on my horse. Sobs rack through me the whole ride back. 

If Taehyung isn’t going to accept my money, I will have to find some other way to help. I will have to use the Prince’s help. At this point, I will do whatever means necessary to make sure they never have to do without again. Even if that involves making a deal with the devil.

~

I spent the whole night crying, agonizing over my decision. I remind myself that I am not trapped here. I may leave if I want, and no one can stop me, oath be damned.

My goal was to be the first person in Jungkook’s office so we could speak alone. I ended up being so early I beat him. 

“I would like to speak with you again.” 

If he has a problem with me never addressing him as commander or your highness, he never expresses it. He wordlessly lets me in his office, seeming still half asleep. He plops himself into the seat behind his desk and I sit at one facing it.

“I will serve as your personal guard if you help me out.” 

He rubs at his brow, as if that will help wake him. “I wasn’t aware it was an option for you.” 

“There’s always another option. It’s usually just an undesirable one.”

His eyes meet mine for the first time that morning, his gaze deep and steady, as if challenging my statement. “You know, I have offered to help you, but you have been the one to decline the offer?” 

“They need to be completely taken care of. " I clarify. "Not just a few gold coins tossed at them. All of them need food, shelter, and jobs. Caretakers for the children. 

He sits up, fully awake now. He grabs something to write with. “Tell me about them again. You said there is a baker?” 

I nod.

He writes something down then looks up. “We could always use an extra hand in the kitchen. That is, until he gets enough money to support himself and move away if he wishes.”

“Truly? You mean it?”

His face was as serious as it could get. “Truly.”

“That’s…” I was at a loss for words to describe how happy that made me. “Wonderful. Thank you,” I fumble out. 

He smiles, enjoying my reaction. 

“His hands are damaged, so he can’t do much with them,” I didn’t want him to get here, only for him to get kicked out. “but he knows everything about cooking and baking,” I quickly add. 

“I’m sure he can be of use to the staff.”  

I’m in complete disbelief at his offer still. I thought maybe he would try to bargain with me, or say he could only give them money. With this deal, they would have a job, shelter, and free food. All of the luxuries I’ve been enjoying without them. 

I’m accepting on their behalf without being sure if they will agree. No doubt, if I can convince them the children will be taken care of, no one will protest. The adults however, share a similar distaste as me and for the royal family. It will be tough to get them to agree to this, Taehyung especially, but if I could change my mind, so could they. 

“There’s a lot more though. They will all need help.” I remind him. It is an all or nothing deal. 

“What are their skills so I know where to place them?”

I go on describing the people who’ve come to be my family describing what talents they have and what they might be good at, and he jots everything down. 

“I have a friend. He’s only worked as a farmer, but he is hardworking and passionate. He can do anything you need.” 

He looks up at me through his eyebrows. “Are you related to this friend?” 

I’m confused by the inquiry, but answer it nonetheless. “No, but we grew up together. I care for him like a brother.”

“I see. I will make arrangements, but it’s going to take some time. It’d probably be best to do it slowly, so it doesn’t gain any suspicion.” 

I nod, agreeing that any precaution would be worth it. I bite my tongue so as to not thank him again. It’s hard not to let the bitter thoughts creep in. He should have taken care of us in the first place, but I brush those thoughts aside. He claimed when we first met to be ignorant to what extent his kingdom was suffering, and I believe that now. 

Should he have been more involved and done something soon? Yes. But, I shouldn’t let that overshadow the fact that he is helping now. We would finally all have the futures that I never let myself dream about. 

A/N: I know there's not a lot of romance yet, but trust me, the payoff is worth it. This story is just getting started.

He glances at me surprised before quickly recovering. Probably because I’m never the one to initiate conversation. I’m mostly quiet at meals. 

He wipes at his face with the end of his shirt, exposing hard muscles beneath. I look away, a small blush on my cheeks. The only man I’d been around intimately since becoming an adult was Taehyung. I was so comfortable around him, that his nakedness never has phased me. 

“If I pass my tests, I will officially be a palace guard.”

So, he was in the final stages then. “Where will you be stationed?”

He pauses, as though contemplating on whether to tell me or not. “I will be one of the Prince’s personal guards.”

That had to mean him and the prince were close with each other. The prince didn’t just pick anyone to join his personal circle. “Is that why the Prince chose you to look after me? How do you two know each other?”

He sighs, clearly debating something with himself. I’m about to tell him not to worry about it when he says, “Jungkook is my brother.”

My brow furrows. “But, I thought-”

“I’m a bastard, and not treated as royalty.” He stops me before my assumptions run wild. “My mother was a consort for the King and she died when I was young. I never got to know her.

“Jungkook never treated me any differently. He has always looked out for me. He’s the reason I joined the guard in the first place.”

“Does anyone else know?”

He looks around at the yard, people are scattered everywhere, but nowhere near close enough to hear us. “No one alive.”

“Why are you telling me then?” 

He shrugs. “At this point, it doesn’t matter. I’ve already been set on my path. Once I take my oath, I will serve as Jungkook’s guard for the rest of my life. There won’t really be a way to try and use me politically. ”

“So,” I prod about my question from before. “I guess you’re the only one he could trust to look after me” 

“Something like that,” he mumbles.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I might as well find out the truth. He’s being vulnerable with me, so I can be with him too.

He nods, confirming what I suspected, but didn’t want to believe. This whole time he knew that I’m here against my will. That I’m a criminal. “But, Jungkook and I are the only ones who know.” 

My mind goes back to the day that it happened. All the witnesses there were that day. “What about the people in the prison when I was captured?”

“They stay secluded down there. Plus, they’re sworn fealty to Jungkook. They would never disobey him.”

The word never seemed a little too confident for me. “What about for the King?” I push.   

The way he takes his time answering, I know I’ve hit a sore spot, and that it’s not an easy answer. “Jungkook will be the King one day, and most of them are very aware of that. So, they had to choose loyalty to the King now and punishment later, or loyalty to Jungkook now, and be rewarded later.”

“He’s in line for the crown? But I thought his older brother…” 

Then I realized. I hadn’t seen his older brother the entire time I’d been here. And no one had mentioned him. 

“He died in the war.”

The feeling that I never thought I’d ever feel for the Prince washed over me, squeezing my chest. Empathy. 

“They had a huge funeral, do you not remember?” 

“I wasn’t exactly…” I try to find the right words- “around for that.” 

How could I tell him that I lived in the woods? It didn’t seem like something he’d ever understand. No one could, unless you’ve lived it. 

“The King, Queen, and Jungkook have never been the same since. They say the Queen has lost her mind. So much has changed since then. It still doesn’t feel real.”

In a way, I don’t feel bad for the King. He deserved to lose someone like the rest of us did for causing the war, but did Jungkook deserve the same? 

“I was a child during the war, same as you. Whatever happened was out of my control.”

Perhaps, we have more in common than I thought. 

~

I let myself sleep in on my free days. It’s one of the few luxuries I get, so I take advantage. My plan was to go train again today. I’m still not where I should be for the rope or hanging test. Those are the two that worry me the most. 

The plan however, is changed when there’s a knock on my door, waking me up from my late slumber. 

Assuming it’s Namjoon, I answer the door with one eye open, still in my sleeping clothes: a big shirt.

Even in my sleeping state I recognize the Prince in his ridiculous cape get-up. “You’re coming with me.”

I rub at the sleep in my eyes. “I am?”

He lets himself inside before I can even properly open my eyes. “I visited all the places on the list last week. Some wanted help, others didn’t.”

I’m impressed, but I don’t let it show. He’s actually trying. “What’s that?” I point to the paper in his hands. 

“Our new list.” I didn’t miss the way he said “our”. “I had one of my assistants take down names, addresses, and complaints of people that came to the castle. We are going to visit them” 

Don't get me wrong, I’m thrilled that he’s actually helping the people, but I don’t understand why he’s doing this out of the blue. “Why are you taking me with you?” 

“Because you’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place.”

~

“To be a royal guard, you will need to learn to saddle and ride a horse.” He leads me through the motions of securing the saddle, even going as far as to make sure that it’s comfortable for the horse and going along the pattern of his hair. 

Each step is simple, but there are a lot of steps to remember. 

“You will have to pass a riding trial after your combat trials. Most people practice while in combat training, so you should have plenty of time to learn.”

He mounts his horse, and looks back at me, as if expecting me to do the same. I stare in disbelief. “You’re not going to attach my horse to yours? 

He grins. “I believe I can catch up to you if need be.”

He teaches me the basics like steering and stopping. It doesn’t seem too hard. Doing this with a bow and arrow in my hands, will be a different story. 

I scan the list myself, checking to see if I recognize any of the names. I don’t. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed. If they were on the list, it would give me an excuse to help them out without seeming suspicious. But if they were, that would mean they resorted back to begging from the kingdom, which we’d long since given up on doing. It would have meant they were desperate. 

I can only rely on the hope of that stack of coins the Prince left the farmers Taehyung works for. Everything I care about relies on that money. 

We ride for a couple of hours outside of the city. The first village that we pull into takes my breath away. Destruction has left its mark everywhere. Rubble still stands from years ago. As we ride through, I spot people coming in and out of tents. Some in the old rubble of what once were stone houses. They stare, hard. 

The Prince stops at a house eventually, and I follow him off my horse. The address is one of many tents set up. Young children run around, a girl and boy. The sight of them breaks my heart. Their clothes are no better than the ones I used to wear. When they notice us, they run inside. “Mama! Someone is here!”

I try to read the Prince’s face, but it remains impassible as he takes in our surroundings with his hood up. “Here,” he shoves the coin bag into my hands and pulls my hood up right as a woman steps out of her home, concern etched onto her face at two strangers showing up to her house. 

I figure she’s probably home alone too, which adds to the unease. “Can I help you?” 

The woman has no reaction to signal she recognizes Jungkook. Neither our horses nor our clothes indicate royalty. She must not know who he is. The people that live in the farther villages usually didn’t come to many royal events. 

“Are you Harrow Finch’s wife?”

The sound of her husband's name perturbs her. “Indeed. What business do you have with him.” 

“I was told that you had a sick child, and that you need money for treatment.”

My brow furrows. He couldn’t have given me any information on the way here!?

She’s hesitant, but eventually nods. “Are you a doctor?” 

“No, but,” he glances at me, like I have any fucking clue what’s going on. “My wife and I heard about it and were wanting to donate money to help.”

Wife? Were we roleplaying now? The woman looks us both up and down in disgust. I don’t take offense to it. I’ve done the same many times before to people who appeared better off than me. 

“We’re not asking for donations.” 

She’s already begun to step away, so I step forward before the Prince can open his mouth again and makes us both look like idiots. “We know, but we heard that your village is struggling, and we have more than enough money to spare. We want to spend it in ways that actually matter.” Was that too pointed to be realistic? 

She studies us both again for a long time. I wonder if maybe she recognizes Jungkook under that hood after all. “Money won’t buy you a spot in heaven, you know?” 

I smile back at her. If only she knew. My spot in heaven was long gone. “I know.”

She sighs, but I know she must be impressed by my persistence.“I shouldn’t accept it without my husband being home.” 

“We can come back,” I offer and the Prince coughs beside me. “Later today, I mean.”

“He should be home about dark. He’s working in the fields.” She turns to find her two eavesdropping behind her and shoos them inside with her, leaving us alone. 

Once we’re out of ear shot, I smack the Prince on the arm without thinking. It was second nature as always to Taehyung. I realize as soon as my hand hits him that I shouldn't have done that. He however, has no reaction to it. That makes me think it’s safe to continue. “You could have prepared me for that.” 

“I was winging it. I wasn’t prepared myself.” 

“Your wife?” I spit.

“This is different. No one can suspect that it’s me. A few people from this village visited the kingdom for help. Word will get back to my father that he fulfilled their wish, unknowingly. Someone will show up to the castle to thank him for their request. Once I get caught, it’s over. You can’t tell anyone about this.” 

“So, no one knows you’re doing this?” 

“Only those closest to me. Even then, it’s just one other and you.” 

He acts like he’s committing some heinous crime behind his father’s back. Instead, he was doing his actual job for him. “Your father is that evil?” the question is under my breath, and I already know the answer, I just said it to express my opinion. 

“No one can know,” he repeats, not addressing my name-calling. 

“So are we husband and wife to all of these people?” 

“Guess so,” he mumbles, studying the list for the next address. 

“I can’t help but notice it seems like you don’t know what you’re doing,” I poke, knowing the question is stirring the pot. 

“It’s because I don’t,” He lets out an exasperated laugh, throwing his hands up. “I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing. I was not prepared for this role. This wasn’t supposed to be my role. I was just supposed to be the commander. That’s it.”

The silence hangs thick between us. I can fill in the gaps that remain unspoken. “Your brother was going to be the heir.” 

He nods, not looking over at me, but I notice the way his throat bobs. 

I hate the fact that I feel the need to comfort him. When has he ever tried to comfort me for my parents death? 

“I’m trying. I’m trying to do the right thing, but I’m afraid it’s not enough.”

“You can’t fix the kingdom overnight. And trust me, there is a lot to fix. Just-” I pause trying to gather the right words to say. ‘Don’t give up.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

I shrug. He must truly be desperate if the Prince is asking advice from a homeless orphan girl. “I agree pretending to be your wife will help hide our identities. I don’t have a ring though, and all rich people have rings.” I’m not sure why I’m worried about it. It seems so insignificant at the moment, but it gives me something to fuss at him for. 

“Here,” he surprises me by reaching for the ring on his pinkie and grabbing my hand, slipping it onto my ring finger. I thought his hands would be soft from lack of labor, but I feel his callouses on mine. The touch sends a chill up my spine that I don’t like. I examine the ring. It’s a thin silver band with a delicate design etched onto it. Clearly still, worth a lot of money. I’d probably never touch something so expensive again.

I can’t believe the ease with which he handed it over to me. Me, the known thief. 

“Where to now?” I ask, finally looking away from the ring. 

He sighs, looking up from his list to glance around. “Looks like I might not have brought enough money.”

For once, I agree with him. 

We go to the next location on the list, which happens to be in this same village. I read the complaint earlier. Wolves ate all of their chickens, and now they have no food source and cannot afford to buy anything. 

 A man opens the door on one of the few houses left standing. Most are in tents. It’s clear the fire from the Breckens stopped somewhere around here. The traces of it fade out this far. 

“Can I help ya?” The first thing I can’t help but notice is the man reeks of alcohol. It’s in the middle of the day. He looks to be a few years older than me, but he leans against the door jamb like he’s exhausted. He stares at us, not hiding the look of confusion on his face.

This man is clearly drunk. Pure irritation radiates off him from our presence on his front door. I worry he might explode at any second. I have half a mind to step back and say the wrong door, but Jungkook stands firm. “We heard that you’re needing help-” 

“Who told you that?” He cuts in harshly. 

“They wish to remain anonymous,” The Prince answers calmly. 

The man lets out a humph. “Yeah, we lost our chickens we used to sell eggs and meat. It would cost me an arm and leg to get back to the numbers I had before.” 

“How much exactly?” 

This time he sends a skeptical look, but tells Jungkook the number anyway.   

Jungkook reaches into the sack this time and holds out the coins. “This should be double.” 

The man simply stares at the money, unmoving, as if it was going to jump out and bite him. “Why?”

 “Because everyone deserves to be able to make a living.” 

“You know, I went to the castle for help.” I believe Jungkook and I both hold our breaths at the mention. Jungkook lowers his hand. Is he on to us?

“I was told that I wouldn’t be given any money because he smelled alcohol on my breath. Said that I’d just use the money to fuel my habit.”

The comment makes my blood boil. Who were they to deny anyone help? Especially people struggling with addiction. It was their duty to do so.

“I’ve never been a big drinker, but when your life goes to shit, there’s not much you can do about it but try and cope. It would take me years to start up with just the couple of chickens I can afford right now. They would barely feed my family.

“I’ve been praying everyday to the gods that they will help. I guess they finally listened."

It isn’t the gods, I want to say. It’s us. It’s Jungkook.

 The man finally accepts the money and begins weeping. Jungkook and I awkwardly excuse ourselves back to our horses. 

We’re both silent on the way to our next address. I wonder what he’s thinking about so hard, but I don’t pry. 

We visit three more homes before dark, including the first woman. It takes all of the families a moment to accept that this is reality. When it hits them, their emotions overcome them. Neither Jungkook or I are very good at consoling them. We simply let them express their gratitude and move on. 

It’s right at night fall when we get back to the palace grounds. “Are you going to continue helping people?” I ask him the question that’s been gnawing on me the whole ride back. Was this it for him? Was that enough charity work?

“I will do what I can for now. When that doesn’t work anymore, I’ll figure something else out.”

I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. That the longer he does this, the harder it will be to keep it a secret from his father. I wonder if it will prevent him from continuing. I can only hope that even after I leave at the end of the week, he continues to help people. 

When we arrive back at the stables and Ranger is put away, I walk towards the training yard instead of the barracks. 

“You’re going to train? This late?” the Prince calls after me.

I pause and turn around to face him where he still stands in the stables. “My test is at the end of the week.”

“And you’re worried about it?” 

His question cannot be genuine. He’s asking the girl who passed out on her first day if she is worried about passing a strength and stamina test? 

“I just want to be prepared.” 

He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t buy my bullshit. 

I’m starting to hate the sight of a metal bar, but I cannot avoid it if I want to pass my trials. I jump to catch the bar, and the sound of metal on metal rings out. I still have the Prince’s ring on. 

PBANDJK©

~

My father left before I was even born, and I never had a father figure in my life. My mom would date new guys all the time and stay out late with them. I was 14 in high school when my mom stopped coming home at all. I started going to Jungwoo’s and his mom didn’t mind if I spent the night. I would stay home until mom left for the night before heading out for Jungwoo’s. It was the only time I would see her.

I ate supper with the Jeons most nights then.

I used to be super jealous of their lives. A nice house with two parents. They didn’t have to work, and they went on vacations. Everything appeared to be perfect for them. Jungwoo never led on to be any different.

Mr. Jeon always worked late and Mrs. Jeon always had hot food on his plate and a beer waiting for him when he arrived. We always had to wait for him to eat.

I’d stayed with them countless times growing up, and then one day, I became old enough for the facade to fade.

One night, it was his birthday so she cooked his favorite meal for him.

Jungwoo, Jungkook and I were already sitting at the table when he arrived, but of course, we weren’t allowed to touch our plates.

Things felt tense the minute he stepped into the room.

“How was your day sweetheart?” Mrs. Jeon helped him out of his jacket and hung it up.

“A fucking mess.”

He paused when he saw his dinner plate, and I noticed a sort of tick in his jaw like he was holding his tongue.

“I know I burnt the carrots a little, but I didn’t have time to run to the store again before you got home.”

I thought the notion was ridiculous.

“My one favorite thing you couldn’t get right.”

Looking down, the comment made my stomach turn.

I’d only been staying at their house for a couple weeks when I’d picked up on the dynamic. Mr. Jeon was the head of the house.

“Well, I went to hang up your work clothes so they wouldn’t get wrinkled and I didn’t think I be gone long enough for them-“

“So, you’re blaming me?”

“No all I was saying was-“

The sound on his palms on the table stopped her short. We all flinched except for Jungkook who glared daggers at his father.

When his father stood, so did Jungkook. His attention went to his son. “Sit down, boy. You’ll learn someday.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I didn’t have time to be shocked at the response from Jungkook. I only caught a glimpse of the fury on Mr. Jeon’s face before he lunged for Jungkook.

Mr. Jeon had him pinned against the wall, bloodying Jungkook’s mouth. Each hit was intentional and he paused to say something each time. “You think you’re so tough, little boy?!” he spat in Jungkook's face. "What about now? Not so tough are you?"

“Let’s go,” I didn’t notice Jungwoo had even gotten up and was now grabbing my hand.

Go? And just leave Jungkook to fend for himself?

I didn’t have a father and my mother never got mad at me, so I had no experience in this kind of situation at all.

Which is why I ignorantly turned and said, “Stop hitting him!” After being ignored I was growing frustrated. Jungkook would have a broken nose and no telling what else. He was almost his father’s height, but not strong enough to overpower him. I had to do something. I remembered how Jungkook got his attention. “Hey, asshole!”

He finally stopped, but I still couldn't breathe. Having that look of violence directed towards me was one of the scariest moments of my life, but I’ve never regretted it.

It was like he knew it would be crossing a line hitting me so instead he went for words. “I’m sure you’ll grow up to be a whore just like your mother. Isn’t that why you’re always hanging around my sons?” he snarled.

Jungkook had stood there and taken his dad’s punches until that moment. With his head turned towards me, Jungkook took the opportunity to swing at his father.

His punch made a sickening crack, and it hung heavy in the air. His dad was stunned into silence.

I thought he might hit Jungkook back, instead he stood deadly still. “Get out,” it was a low grumble, but said with conviction.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice.

“Don’t come back home until you learn whose house this is!” His dad yelled at his back. Jungkook didn’t turn around.

I ran after him into the garage. “Wait!” I could barely hear myself over the roar of Jungkook’s motorcycle, so I wasn’t quite sure how he heard me.

“Where are you going?”

He shrugged, wiping the blood off his face with his black t-shirt, uncaring of its stains.

“You can stay at my house.”

“You need to go home y/n,” was all he said before he drove off.

~

More so than anything, I was upset that Jungwoo and Jungkook felt like they had to cover up this part of their lives. All those times as a kid when I’d been over, they never let me suspect that anything was amiss.

Sure, I’d picked up on their dad being an ass, but I didn’t know to what extent.

Mrs. Jeon always made me feel safe in their home.

“Was that the first time that’s happened?” I asked Jungwoo.

We had gone out to actually get something to eat since dinner was ruined. He looked up for a moment and I knew before he even shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn't want to come over anymore.” My shoulders deflated at his confession. He was more concerned for me than himself. “Plus, you’re safer at our house anyway. Neither Jungkook or I would ever let anything happen to you there. I can’t promise the same for your house.”

I looked down, embarrassed that somehow, after just watching a man yell at his wife and beat up his son before kicking him out, that my situation was worse.

“Why won’t your mom leave him?”

He took a deep sigh, looking down at his burger like it wasn’t appetizing anymore. “I think, a lot of reasons. He provides for her, for us. She knows that if they separated, she couldn’t support us on her own.

She makes excuses for him all the time. I don’t know how she can still love him but,-” he took a breath. “I think she truly does, as twisted as it sounds. She hates to see him hurt us, but when it comes to how he treats her, she doesn’t care. Like, she’ll take it because she loves him.”

I chewed the food in my mouth slowly, finding it hard to swallow. I wasn’t sure I knew enough, or had enough life experience yet to comment on it.

~

`It was near ten o’clock when I heard the sound of a motorcycle idling outside. I knew none of my neighbors drove one, and hurried to peek out the window at the parking lot.

Jungkook sat below, taking a drag from his cigarette. I guessed Jungwoo had given him my address. He hadn’t gotten off his bike yet, as if he might leave at any second.

I threw a sweatshirt and some shoes on before running outside to meet him. He appeared shocked by my presence, as if I didn’t live there.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”

~ I was embarrassed, to say the least, for Jungkook to see where I lived. His house was so pristine and expensive. Surely, because I’d been witness to how unglamorous his life could be, he wouldn’t judge me too much.

I lived in an apartment building on the rougher side of town. The wood was rotting off and the paint was chipped everywhere. Some windows were busted out, some patched with tarps and duct tape.

People were always outside. There was a half-court basketball goal with a metal net that had been ripped off for fifteen years or more. Kids still played, and the adults sat around the balconies, mostly smoking. I figured most drugs would keep you up all night.

There was an older lady who sat in a rocking chair on her balcony talking to herself 24/7. People called her crazy Kathy. It saddened me deeply knowing she had fried her brain out on drugs. What was even sadder was the people around who made fun of her, but would one day become her if they didn’t stop drug use. People like my mother.

“This place doesn’t look safe.” Jungkook said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder when we passed a man who stared a little too long at us. He’d probably tell my mom that he saw me with some boy and that he thought I’d be just like her and wind up pregnant.

“I’m used to it.” Which was true, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t times when I felt scared. There were times when I hid in my closet clutching a kitchen knife.

My neighbors were nice enough, but when you consume certain substances, your mind can do crazy things, as I had been subjected to before.

I looked up into his eyes. Half lidded and red. I’d seen it on my mom countless nights. “You’re high.”

He shrugged. “Had to do something.” He looked around our apartment, noticing the place was empty. “Where is your mom?”

“She stays gone most nights.”

“So that’s why you’re always at our house.”

I nodded, and was relieved to find no judgement in his eyes. Instead, he just look embarrassed of his own situation.

He sighed, taking a seat on the couch. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

I opted for a seat across from him. “How long has that been going on?”

His gaze was distant, and I knew it wasn’t just because of the drug. “My whole life.”

That was the answer I was expecting, but hoping not to hear. I closed my eyes briefly, my chest aching for them. “Woo never told me. I’m just confused, I thought he trusted me with everything.”

“I think he didn’t want you to feel unsafe at our house.” That was exactly what he told me. Both of them are too protective of me.

Silence stretched between us, and it wasn’t a comfortable one. There was a time when I felt okay being alone with him, not anymore.

“We haven’t hung out alone in a while,” he noted, breaking the awkward silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not since like, eighth grade, right?” I asked, I tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

That was when Jungkook started to change. He’d always been rebellious on the inside, always getting in trouble at school. But, then he started hanging out with a different friend group. One that wore all black and stole their parent’s cigarettes.

Meanwhile, Junngwoo and I were the perfect examples of teachers’ pets. Never walking a toe out of line. A part of me missed the old Jungkook. Another part of me liked the thrill it gave me whenever someone like him interacted with me. We shouldn’t have crossed paths, but I was best friends with his brother. He couldn’t ever escape me.

He eyed me with suspicion. Of course there was a time we hung out alone since eighth grade, but I liked to pretend that night didn’t exist. It was one of the most humiliating nights of my life. “I guess so.” Apparently so did he.

“How are things with Peter?”

“Parker.” I corrected. “Great. Things are really great.”

I suddenly wished Jungwoo was there as a buffer.

“What about you, are you seeing anyone?” I blurted out, trying to make small talk.

A smile crept on his face that brought heat to my cheeks. It was a smile that felt patronizing, like when a kid asks an adult a silly question. “I’m not really the relationship type.”

“Oh.”

I’d seen Jungkook with girls countless times. He was very attractive, and could pull girls with no problem.

There was a time though, when we were younger and he was just as awkward and dorky as me. I remember the day he asked a girl out and she rejected him. Jungwoo and I spent the recess cheering him up.

Now, I bet no girl would turn him down. Even if he couldn’t give them a relationship.

I still remember when Jungkook got his first girlfriend. Sally. We were in the sixth grade. He was still in his dorky phase. He wasn’t too cool to hang out with us yet, but he started to blow us off for her, or worse, started inviting her to hangout with us.

I hated her. For what reasons, at the moment I couldn’t tell you, but I did. I was petty and rude to her. I paid no attention to her when we all hung out. Jungwoo confronted me about it one day after she and Jungkook left.

“You’re jealous.”

“What?” I looked at him confused at his sudden accusation.

“You’re jealous of her, that’s why you hate her.”

I pulled a disgusted face. “What’s there to be jealous of?”

“Because you like Jungkook.”

All of the color drained from my face. I didn’t like Jungkook. He was Jungwoo’s weird twin. And Jungwoo was already weird on his own.

“That’s insane.”

“No, what’s insane is you treating her badly because you’re jealous of her.”

“I am not! Stop saying that!”

He shrugged. “You can deny it, but the evidence says otherwise.”

Just to prove him wrong, I thought to myself, I’ll start treating her differently. But, for some reason, when I tried to, a lump formed in my throat. It definitely was not because I liked Jungkook. No way.

On Halloween in seventh grade, we played spin the bottle in somebody’s basement. I’d brought up the idea of Jungkook and I being Spiderman and Mary Jane, and he was just as excited as I was.

I thought it meant something, but as I watched him spin the bottle and it land on Carly Lorance, my hopes fell. He won’t actually do it, I told myself. My heart dropped when he actually kissed her.

I excused myself to the bathroom. I told Jungwoo my stomach was hurting, which was less embarrassing than why I was in the bathroom for twenty minutes. I texted my mom to pick me up.

In Eighth grade, he no longer hung out with us. He would give me a nod of acknowledgement when we passed in the hallway, but that was it.

Of course, I couldn’t escape him at his own house. One night, I was spending the night and Jungwoo was in the shower. I was listening to music on my ipod when Jungkook appeared in the doorway. He looked so different to the Jungkook I grew up with. It was intimidating, but I knew deep down he was still the same person.

“Hey,” he leaned against the doorway.

“Hi,” I said from Jungwoo’s bed.

“What are you listening to?” He nodded at my earbuds.

“Paramore,” I said embarrassed, unsure of what he thought of them.

He nodded with approval and I relaxed a little.

That was until he left the doorway to come sit beside me on the bed. “Can I listen?”

I nodded, handing him an earbud.

He looked down at me, meeting my eye. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and I knew he noticed but didn’t say anything.

We stayed like that until he heard Jungwoo coming down the hall. He got up and left without another word.

Then, he started messaging me song recommendations. For a while, that was all we communicated. But it was enough for me.

~

Freshman year he came home with his first tattoo and his mother cried.

“What does it mean?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything,” he said, but I noticed the way he scratched his arm. I knew he wouldn’t get a meaningless tattoo.

Sophomore he started working as an apprentice at the local tattoo shop, and he was able to save up enough to buy his motorcycle. It was old and he was always having to work on it, but he loved it. He was proud of it like a father.

~

It wasn’t until junior year when things came to a head. I was spending the night in the guest bedroom at their house when I heard footsteps and decided to follow them out to the front porch. I wasn’t sure how people like Jungkook got cigarettes. His parents didn’t smoke like my mom did. It would be easy to sneak a few off from her. She’d probably assume she got drunk and didn’t remember how much she smoked.

The moon shining on his left eye was turning green from where the bruise was healing. I always assumed he got into a lot of fights. He was always hurt in some way.

He didn’t turn his head toward me, but I sat beside him anyway. “Couldn't sleep?”

He didn’t bother offering his cigarette to me, and for some reason it irritated me. It was like he doesn’t think I’d be interested in the same things as him, like he was putting me above himself.

“Never can.”

The night was so peaceful and still. I could see why he came out here to think.

It felt like that night that we were alone listening to music on Jungwoo’s bed. Except this time we were all grown up. Or so I felt like.

“You stopped sending me music.”

“I guess I don’t know what you’re into anymore.”

It felt like he was talking about more than music. About how we had drifted apart since we were kids.

“You can still send me what you’re listening to. You know I’d be honest if I didn’t like it.”

He smiled, memories of our past conversations coming to mind. I was always very opinionated when it came to music.

“I’ve missed you,” my words were a mere whisper. I've been wanted to say that since middle school, but I'd never been brave enough. With the way his body stiffened I knew he heard them.

“I see you all the time.”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk much.”

He held my gaze unrelenting, and something compelled me to reach up and delicately trace where his eye was bruised. I wished my touch would magically heal it for him. His eyelids dropped at the soft touch, his eyes lowering.

There was a hunger in his gaze that set me alight. How could he look at me that way if he didn’t want me to kiss him? Maybe he’d been waiting for me to make a move all this time? Without giving it another thought, bravely, I leaned in closer, our bodies already close enough, it only took an inch further for our lips to touch.

That was it. It was finally our moment. I’d waited patiently since that night he kissed Carly instead of me at spin the bottle.

He let out a sigh, leaning away. “Look, y/n.” I didn’t like the way he said it. Like I was about to be let down. “You’re like my sister.”

Ouch. Sister zone hurt more than being outright rejected. It set a clear line of non-attraction. Like he could never fathom it.

I nodded. “I get it.” I turned away from him to hide my embarrassment, my stomach churning.

“Don’t put yourself down because I’m not into you. Take it as a compliment.”

I shook my head, fighting back the tears. I would not cry over him. “I wish you didn’t think of yourself like that.”

“I just know my place in life. And it’s far away from you.”

I wasn’t sure if he realized how much his words hurt me.

I stood, not wanting to bask in the rejection anymore. “It’s fine if you don’t view me like that. Just don’t put yourself down in the process. We’re more alike than you think.”

I left him with that.

~

I gave Jungkook a pillow and blanket to sleep with on the couch. He offered a soft smile. One I hadn’t seen in a very long time. “Thank you, y/n. I’m sorry about tonight.”

I shook my head, rejecting his apology for something that wasn’t his fault. “Don’t apologize."

I started to walk to my room to go to sleep when he said, “I’ve missed you.” He threw my words back at me a year later.

I froze in place for a moment, unsure if I heard him correctly. “I see you all the time,” I threw his back at him, walking away before I could do or say something I would regret. He said he wasn’t the relationship type, and I was in a serious committed relationship. Yet, I knew deep down, if he had come onto me the way I did that night to him, I wouldn’t have resisted. It was better if we kept our distance.

~

I was the first person Jungwoo came out to. Jungkook was the second. I was there when he did it. He was nervous and had doubts about how Jungkook would react, but I never did. If there was one thing about Jungkook that never changed, it was his love for his brother and mother.

He wasn’t out to the public, but still dated around.

Junngwoo and I didn’t know much about football, but it was the most popular event at our school. Plus, it was hard to get invited to parties if you didn’t go and get to hear someone shout “Party at my house tonight!”

I met Parker Senior year at a party that Woo drug me to while he was secretly “dating” a football player that also wasn’t out to the public. I already knew who Parker was. There were just certain people at my school that warranted attention, and he and his friends were those people.

He had short blonde hair and blue eyes that looked like crystals. He had that eye catching smile, the one that charmed you if you got to see it. He was a charming guy. The teachers all seemed to like him, and he was supposedly the coach’s favorite player. The golden boy of the school.

I wasn’t sure how I caught his eye. I didn’t make myself stand out at parties, I just sort of hung around JungWoo and faded into the crowd to dance once I got drunk. I was laughing at a joke someone made in someone’s living room after a game and he’d slid into the group I was talking to.

He contributed some conversation and people would always laugh, but every time he would glance at me, as if gauging my reaction. It was when I dismissed myself to get another drink that he followed me to chat me up.

I was no exception to being charmed by the golden boy. He got my number and started inviting me to football games, finding me afterwards, pulling me into his sweaty form in his winning-highs.

I couldn’t believe that I had snagged the sought after quarter back of our school. I was the one he celebrated his insanely talented wins with.

He was my first boyfriend, so everything that happened, I just sort of figured that’s how relationships worked. I’d heard from older people that “marriage is hard” and “takes work”, so I thought that was how my relationship should be too.

Our good moments were really good. He would take me to the beach on some romantic date, and later we’d sneak off to have sex in his car. He charmed my mom and made me feel like a giddy little girl.

I liked the feeling when the entire stadium erupted in screams of joy for him knowing that he was mine. I had the guy who all these people admired.

But, as always, there was more to the story than anyone else knew of.

“Ugh! I’m so jealous. You two make me sick,” Jungwoo groaned at the sight of our PDA. He was constantly complaining of his singleness, yet made no effort to be serious with any relationship.

Jungwoo always liked Parker, and I never gave him a reason not to. That way I could finally pretend like my life was perfect for once.

~

I was putting my books away in my locker between classes when, in the distance I spotted two figures down the hall. I knew that leather jacket, saw it many times, and at times wished he would lend it to me. A guy I recognized, but didn’t remember his name was laughing, saying something to Jungkook. Jungkook’s back was turned to me, so I couldn’t see his reaction, but the tension in his body told all. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook crossed the distance between them, his fist colliding with the boy's face before I could register what was happening.

After the second hit the boy went down, but Jungkook was on top of him, throwing both fists into the bloodied face.

I slammed my locker shut, rushing over to the pair and skidding to a stop in front of them.

“Jungkook stop!” I called out to him, grabbing his shoulder. People stood around and gawked, and I glanced around desperately for help. Parker was the one to actually pull Jungkook off the other boy. Jungkook was ready to swing at Parker as well until he saw the principal approaching. I had a hard time looking at the guy’s bloody face on the ground.

“What on god’s green earth is going on?” The principal approached, giving his best disappointed look.

“That fucking freak attacked Joey.” Parker said, wrapping his arm around me like he was protecting me after the fight had already happened.

“He was insulting my brother,” Jungkook explained, his gaze stopping on me for a second, eyeing the way Parker’s hand on my shoulder held me against him.

“I’m sure he was just playing around.” Parker responded.

If looks could kill, Parker would be dead. “He was calling him slurs.”

Parker shrugged. “That’s what guys do, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him right now,” I told Parker. I tried to pull away, but he held me close to him.

“What?!” he asked defensively.

“That’s my best friend he's talking-”

“So, his brother has to beat someone to a pulp for a few words?”

I thought it was ironic, and I wasn't sure how he could be so un-self aware.

I glanced over at Jungkook who was looking at me with disgust. I was embarrassed by Parker, and I could feel the disappointment from him.

“I don’t care who started it. My office, now.”

I could never forget the look of betray in Jungkook's eyes as he stared at me for what felt like eternity before reluctantly following the principal.

I wished I could go with them and defend Jungkook, but I knew there were no excuses for violence on campus, even if it’s self defense, you were in trouble.

I wished I could erase Jungkook's dissapointment in me.

~

I couldn’t sleep that night. The scene of Jungkook flying into a rage played over again in my head. I knew how he must be feeling, so I called him. It was late and he should be asleep, but he picked up after a few rings, “Are you okay?” His voice was full of concern and I felt bad for not texting first. I’d be lying if I said I didn't like how protective he is. Of his mother, Jungwoo, and I’ve experienced it at times too. He loved the people around him fiercely.

I convinced him to meet me on his porch. He was already waiting for me when I got there, sporting a bruise on his cheekbone that I hadn’t noticed earlier.

It’s just like that night that he told me to get over him. Except this time, everything felt different.

“Is Jungwoo still not speaking to you?” I took a seat beside him.

“What do you think?”

His brother was a peace keeper to the fullest and would rather Jungkook just bite his tongue when people insult him. The last thing he would want is causing a scene over defending him. He’d dealt with it his whole life: the bullying.

And Jungkook hadn’t changed, always ready to swing hands at whoever dares a snark at Woo.

“He’ll get over it by tomorrow. You know how bad he is at silent treatments.”

“I didn’t notice him getting a hit on you,” I referred to the bruise on his face. This time, I resisted the urge to reach up and trace it. I had a boyfriend now, and he didn’t like me like that anyway.

Jungkook’s hand came up to cradle it, almost defensively. I wondered if it was punishment from his dad for getting in trouble at school.

“Are you here to lecture me on getting expelled?” He changed the subject.

I bit my lip, “I think it was stupid. You could have at least waited till you were off school grounds.”

That pulled a smile from him. I wasn't sure I’d be able to hide my rage either if I’d heard someone calling Jungwoo those names.

Joey was banned for three football games, and I'd heard enough of Parker complaining about it.

I took a deep breath, saying what I came there to say, “I’m sorry about Parker.”

“When I told you to go date someone else, I meant someone actually decent.”

His comment offended me. I always felt super defensive of our relationship. “He’s a good guy., if you get to know him.”

There was a silence that I didn’t like. The tension grew, and I already knew what Jungkook was thinking. I couldn’t defend Parker anymore, or I'd look desperate.

“You’ve seen my mom growing up,” he said softly, looking out at the street instead of us. “That’s really what you want y/n?”

Fear rose up in my throat and choked me. How could he know? He couldn’t, I never told anyone. Surely he was just talking about his dad being a bad guy, not the other stuff.

“He’s not like that,” my voice cracked as I said it.

Jungkook turned to me, and I found it hard to escape his gaze. “Don’t think I don’t see how you are around him. I’ve seen it my whole life.”

Abruptly, I stood up, not liking his accusations. They were true, but I couldn’t let him think that. I’d done too good of a job hiding it. How could he have possibly known?

“You really want to date someone who’s friends with a guy who talks about Jungwoo like that?”

My mouth opened and then closed. “He’s not perfect, but he’s never insulted Jungwoo. He has a lot of friends, and some of them are dicks, but that’s not himself.”

“One bad apple spoils the bunch,” he muttered, as if it wasn’t meant for me to hear.

I eyed his bruise. “Take care of yourself,” I said genuinely before leaving.

~

The nights that the team lost were the worst. I knew better than to try and comfort him with words. It would only piss him off more. Instead, I listened if he had something to say, and after he flung my arm off him when I tried to rub his shoulder, I learned not to try and comfort him that way either.

Instead, I let him take me to his car and he’d wordlessly drive me somewhere where I had the least chance of being caught. I let him take whatever he needed to out on me. It hurt physically, but it felt good to make him good. It lightened the ache in my heart when his shoulders became relaxed and he didn’t scowl at me anymore.

He’d always take me in his arms after and hold me gently, the way I crave for him to do. His lips are soft on my head and he whispers words that make me remember how sweet he can be.

The pressure for getting recruited to the best school grew for Parker everyday. I hated watching him lose himself. Even on the winning nights when the whole team patted his back the whole night and he drank with his friends, I could see the light that was in his eyes when I first met slowly grow dimmer and dimmer.

He’d laugh at a joke, but I could tell it is weighed down by so many other feelings that it had to fight to make it out.

Maybe it was some kind of ego thing for me, but I always felt best when I was making him feel better. I liked when he’d pull me away from all his friends and drag me upstairs because I knew that was the only way he would feel better.

I let him do whatever he pleased. Most times, his hand found its way to my neck, and sometimes I was afraid that he’s going too far. I don’t think he knew his own strength.

It was always little things that set him off. I’d tried to be more aware of my actions, but sometimes it was hard. I didn’t want to be rude to his friends. I knew what the moment was that set him off, but I’d hoped he’d finally gotten over those kinds of things since he didn’t react.

George stood next to me the entire night. He always was attentive to me and made sure I was involved in the conversation. He laughed at all my jokes. The tipping point was when I misstepped and he put an arm around me to steady me. That was when Parker dragged me upstairs.

“You want to fuck George?” He pushed me further into the wall of the bedroom upstairs at whoever's party it was.

I shook my head, unable to say anything with the way his hand was wrapped around my throat.

“You think I’m stupid?” He spoke with venom, his grip tightening.

I clawed at his hand and struggled to tell him to let go.

“You know I only want you.” I barely choked out. ‘You have to stop caring about stuff like that.”

“Like what? Like you flirting with another man in front of me? Humiliating me in front of my friends?”

“You’re being ridiculous-”

He finally let go of my throat, but my relief was short lived. He’d freed his hand to slap me hard. Between the force of the blow and the lack of oxygen, I lost my footing, my head catching my fall on the corner of the night stand.

He didn’t even glance at me to see what he’d done. He left me alone in the room, storming out of the room, probably to fight George. I wished I could go after him and try to stop him, but my vision kept blacking out, and more and more blood pooled from my head. I needed to stop the bleeding soon.

It wasn't the first time he hit me that hard, in fact, I’d lost count. He would get heated and hit me, and then it was over. Then, he was usually as lovely as ever, taking care of me and telling me he was sorry and how much he loved me.

That night was different. He left me injured. I looked for him downstairs to find he’d left without me. His friends offered to drive me home, but I had to embarrassingly decline. Parker definitely wouldn’t like it.

I walked home that night by myself. I was tired and my head hurt, but it was worth it not to make Parker mad.

I could take it, if it made him feel better. That’s all I wanted. I viewed it the same as Jungkook putting himself in harm's way so the people he loves don’t hurt. He takes the physical pain for his mom and Jungwoo. I took the pain away from Parker.

~

I made up some story about how I fell, and my mom let me stay home from school the next day. I probably should have got stitches and my head checked, but we couldn't afford to go to the hospital.

After a couple of days of laying out of school, I had to return to school, and my head was still patched up. I’d successfully been avoiding Woo because I didn’t want him to be worried about me. I was fine. He just wouldn’t understand how I felt about Parker. How it wasn’t like his parents. Parker had so much pressure on him from his parents and the whole school. How could he not be constantly stressed out?

It wasn’t until my third period when I caught sight of him. I knew he would never let this go, so I quickly grabbed what I needed from my locker and tried to run away. He caught me.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked from behind me, coming around to face me. I tried to turn the wound away from him, but he tucked a hand under my chin and turned my head, examining the patched up gash.

I pulled my chin out of his grasp, backing away. “I-I ran into a dresser at home. Tripped over my dirty clothes on the floor.”

He shook his head, fury in his eyes. “I should kill him.”

I wanted to say that wasn’t true, but the lie caught in my throat. I opted for playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stopped closer, closing the distance I’d put between us, speaking just for us to hear. “I wish you could just realize that you don’t deserve this. Whatever has happened to you for you to think you have to put up with this, you don’t. There are plenty of sane people out there who wouldn't hurt you.”

“Jungkook…” I trailed off, looking around the hallway, as if someone could save me from this conversation.

“I don't get it. Why are you still with him? You know how many times I've had to help my mom up after she got beat up. Help patch her up as she made excuses for that piece of shit.”

He was saying it because he cared about me, but teenage me was taking offense to it. I didn’t need him lecturing me about my relationship.

“Parker-”

“Save it. Whatever excuse you’re about to make, save it. Because, nothing excuses this. Nothing.”

“Please don’t cause trouble with him.” I knew how he was. He wouldn't hesitate to confront Parker out of the blue and start fighting him.

He took a breath, as if controlling himself. Something about the rage in his eyes scared me even though it wasn’t for me. “If I knew that he wouldn’t take it out on you, I would make him hurt for everything he’s made you hurt, tenfold.”

He walked away from me then.

~

The house was crowded, the lights dimmed low, but I still spotted him. I was shocked, to say the least. He didn’t usually hang out with these kinds of people. He didn’t appear to be with anybody, which I thought was strange.

Finally, I was able to catch his eye and I waved to Jungkook, but he didn’t wave back, or do as much as a nod before disappearing into the crowd.

“Will you get me another drink?” I asked Parker, knowing he’d be gone for a few minutes.

I slipped my way through the crowd towards the back porch where Jungkook was headed.

“Hey,” I called softly to his back where he leaned against the rail smoking. He didn’t acknowledge me, so I tried again. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Still, radio silence.

I huffed, crossing my arms. “Are you mad at me, or something?”

Instead of speaking to me, he shook his head, tapping the ashes out of his cigarette.

I came up right beside him, tilting my head so he was forced to stop ignoring me. “What’s your problem?”

He turned suddenly, taking me back. “My problem is you never come over anymore, and you’re too stuck up your boyfriend’s ass. Jungwoo misses you.”

My eyebrows furred in confusion. That was the last thing I expected him to be upset over. I saw Jungwoo everyday, talked to him on the phone every night. He’s never complained to me before about not spending enough time with me.

Was it really that hard for him to admit he missed me instead?

“I don’t appreciate how preach-y you’ve gotten with me lately. I can handle myself.”

He raised his hand and swatted, and I flinched on instinct. Embarrassment and dread set in when I realized he was merely swatting at a bug. I’d just given him more ammunition to use against me.

Instead of his face becoming angry like I’d expected, it turned sad. “Seems like that’s not true.”

Now, I was the one getting angry. He had no right to speak on my relationship.

“What the fuck are you doing out here with him? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

My body tensed at the sound of Parker's voice. I turned to him, already dreading dealing with this situation. I should have left sooner so he wouldn’t have found us out here alone. “We were just talking."

Parker eyed Jungkook menacingly. “Alone, outside?”

“She told you we were just talking. Why do you not believe her?” Jungkook butted in, and I swore under my breath.

“Stay out of this, freak. Why don’t you fuck off now?”

I cringed, knowing for sure that Jungkook would fly off the handle and try to fight Parker. Instead, something scarier happened. He walked calmly up to Parker. “Keep putting your hands on her and find out what happens.”

With that, Jungkook left. Parker stood stunned for a moment before trying to call Jungkook back, but he’d already gone inside, lost in the crowd.

Since Jungkook was gone, it was me he had to turn his fury to. “You told him I hurt you?”

“N-no. I promise.”

“Why were you alone with him out here?”

“We were just catching up. I’ve known him my whole life. There’s nothing there. I promise I don’t have feelings for him. He’s like a brother to me.” Even as I said the words, I knew they were a lie. Maybe he could tell.

We left the party immediately.

~

Parker was always smart about where he hit me and I could always hide the marks with clothes or makeup. This time, however, he lost all thought and went on pure rage.

My nose and jaw ached from his hits. He told me if he ever saw me talking to Jungkook again, this same thing would happen.

It was the first time I felt like I couldn’t defend him anymore. I tried to explain to him not to be threatened by Jungkook, but he wouldn’t listen.

Although he was drunk, he drove my car back to my house, where we would be alone, and no one could come save me. Tears streamed down my face as I gripped the seat as a lifeline. I couldn’t be sure how fast he went, maybe 100, maybe more. I knew it would do no good to argue with him over it, so I accepted my fate, praying to anyone that would listen to let me make it there alive.

He waited until we were alone in my apartment to finally let it out on me. I waited until he fell asleep to slip away.

I didn’t ever want my best friend to see me like that, but I couldn’t be strong anymore. I had lost all of my strength and I needed my best friend to be able to go on. I couldn’t physically drive anywhere but to their house. So many nights I had self-soothed, tried to be strongI couldn’t do it anymore.

If Jungkook knew, then most other people would probably connect the dots soon.

I texted Jungwoo to meet me at the basement door and made sure that Jungkook wasn’t there. I was worried about Jungkook’s reaction. I couldn’t handle “told you so”.

I broke into a sob when Jungwoo answered the door. I couldn’t see his reaction, but he softly said my name and pulled me tight into his arms like if he held me tight enough he could put me back together.

“What’s wrong, who did this to?” He asked gently, but there was a tell, a fear in his voice that said he already knew.

I got myself together enough to confess to him. I told him everything.

He was angry, but he cried on my shoulder and I cried on his chest. No more words were spoken, or needed at the time. Eventually, I gathered my tears and pulled myself back from him. My tears and blood covered his shirt.

He helped guide me over to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

He came back with a rag and silently cleaned the blood and snot off of me. I tried to do it myself, but he would let me.

He noticed me wincing as I leaned forward and that immediately alerted him. “Lift your shirt up.”

“I didn’t think you swung that way.”

He had never found me as unamusing as he did in that moment.

Knowing he wouldn’t let it go I showed him. Tears welled up in his eyes again. “I’m such a dumbass,” he sounded so disappointed in himself, it hurt me. I shouldn’t have kept this from him.

At the sound of the basement door opening I yanked my shirt down, but I couldn’t hide my face.

Jungkook paused at the end of the stairs when he spotted us.

He was frozen for a moment and I couldn’t meet his eye. “Did he do that to you?” There was violence in his voice. He asked like he already knew the answer, but didn’t want it to be true.

Jungwoo was the one to speak. “Jungkook, what she needs is support right now.”

“I’m going to kill him.” It did not sound metaphorical.

“Jungkook,” I abruptly stood up and winced in the process. “Don’t.” I finally met his eye and hoped he saw the begging and pleading in my gaze.

“I should have broke his hands the second I suspected something so he wouldn’t put his hands on you again.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get her some ice?” Jungwoo suggested, trying to lessen the tension.

Jungkook held my stare for so long I didn’t think he would, but eventually he went upstairs.

“Follow him,” I told Jungwoo.

“He’s not gonna do anything crazy. He respects you too much.” I didn’t have much faith in his statement. Jungkook had beaten Joey up for less. “Tell me you at least broke up with him.”

My hesitation was answer enough. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is.” Jungwoo shook his head. “Tell him to fuck off and you never want to see him again.”

“He did this to me for less, you really think he’s gonna let me break up with him?”

“Oh, he’s going to ‘let you’. I’ll go with you to make sure he doesn’t lay a hand on you again.”

~

I told Jungwoo to wait in the car. It took a whole lot of fighting, but he finally agreed. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. I’d handled his abuse for a while now, I felt brave enough to face him for one night.

I decided to break up with him after the football game. I didn’t trust him enough to be alone when it happened, and I didn’t want to drag Jungwoo into it. I could have waited until Monday morning, but he would be trying to call me if he hadn't heard from me, or drove to my house when I didn’t show up tonight.

I wasn’t sure why he was taking so long. Usually he’s one of the first out of the locker room. I decided to go farther than my usual waiting place and head down the parking lot to where I know the locker room was.

I was out of Jungwoo’s line of sight behind the building, but hopefully he wouldn’t follow me.

I was hoping that there would be lots of football guys around as witnesses so that he wouldn’t do anything crazy. My hope dwindled and dwindled the more football guys came out. There was going to be no one left. Maybe I’d missed him already?

I spotted a figure walking across the parking lot, and it wasn't Parker. Of course that was why Jungwoo finally agreed to wait in the car. Because he sent Jungkook. I was pissed at him for showing up. It was just gonna piss Parker off even more.

“Please go away,” I pleaded, though I knew it would be no use.

“If you think I’m ever leaving him alone with you again, you’re dead wrong.”

I sighed at the Jeon stubbornness. “Fine, just let me do the talking.”

We waited until Parker and the coach walked out. Parker was holding an ice pack to his head, and the coach clapped him on the back before walking to his car.

Parker’s eyes lit up at the sight of me, before dimming when he noticed who stood beside me. “What is he doing here?”

“What happened to your head?” I ignored his question. I hadn’t watched the game.

“I probably got a mild concussion, but I’m fine. What is he doing here?” He kept walking closer, and I eventually took a step back. Parker froze then.

My mouth opened, but the words had got caught in my mouth. I swallowed hard, talking myself up. I thought of enduring what happened last night again. The fear of experiencing that again was what finally drove me to speak. “Parker, I can’t do this anymore.”

I had to admit, I don’t think I could have said the words if Jungkook wasn’t standing behind me. The broken look on his face made my chest ache.

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

He took another step forward, and me one back, bumping into Jungkook. “I can’t take it anymore. I’ve had enough. I want to break up.”

“So what, you’re with him now?” He nodded towards Jungkook.

I shook my head, already feeling regret at him coming. I knew this would happen. “No.”

“Liar,” the hurt in his voice was mixed with anger.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jungkook grabbed my arm, leading me away, but Parker closed the distance quickly, pulling him back, and punching him square in the face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was exactly what I was trying to avoid.

Much like the night Jungkook and his father got into it, Jungkook didn’t fight back, he tried to escape, but Parker was faster, stronger. I looked around, desperate for anyone’s help, but everyone was gone, the stadium empty.

Jungkook got in a few good punches eventually, but nothing like Parker did to Jungkook. Parker was much larger than him. He got him on the ground, his fists kept pummeling his face, over and over again. My screams did no good. My hands grabbing and pulling at him did no good. My fists pounding against him did nothing.

I knew getting Jungwoo wouldn’t help, he was weaker than Jungkook. He would end up beaten up on the ground beside his brother. All because of me. I should have been the one Parker hit.

Eventually, Parker tired, my throat raw from screaming and tears ran down my face.

Jungkook’s face was unrecognizable. He laid unconscious on the ground and I could have sworn my heart stopped beating until I recognized the rising of his chest.

Then, his attention was on me. I was flung to the ground in an instant.

“I knew you were fucking him!” He kicked me in the stomach. For some reason, I didn’t mind it. It felt good to be hurt after what Jungkook went through. I deserved it. “You thought you could make me look stupid!” Another kick. I gagged from the force of it.

“Hey, asshole. I’m not done yet,” Jungkook slurred from the blood flowing out of his mouth. He was trying to sit up, but failed due to his injuries. So much blood.

“No,” I gasped breathlessly.

Jungkook’s diversion worked. Parker turned to him again.

“You’re gonna kill him!” I screamed.

The only thing I could think of that was better than my fists was the gravel. The first few rocks did nothing, so I started grabbing larger ones. Ones the size of my palm. All it took was one to hit his temple. I didn't think I was that strong, but the rage must have amplified my throw.

His body went limp over Jungkook’s and mine froze in place. My first thought was that I killed him.

Jungkook grunted and barely managed to slip out from Parker’s lifeless body.

All I could think of was that Jungkook would be guilty if he was found near Parker’s body. I couldn’t think clearly, my hands were the first thing to shake until my whole body joined. “Go. I’ll call an ambulance."

“They’re gonna think you’re a suspect,” he gasped out, bent over from his injuries. He needed medical attention too, but Parker could be dead. I killed him. I killed him.

“I don’t care. Go!” I screamed at him, hyperventilating. I collapsed on the ground beside Parker. Through the violent shaking, I lifted my hand to his neck. He was still breathing. I’d just knocked him out. I finally let a miniscule sigh of relief out.

I would call the cops, and we would explain that it was self defense. They would understand, right?

I knew I needed to call, and yet, I couldn't force myself to do anything but rock back and forth. I heard the sounds of sirens eventually. I was barely responsive when they showed up. I couldn't speak or move as I watched them load his lifeless body into the vehicle.

I looked around for Jungkook desperately, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. He was gone.

I debate on telling him more of Sam’s story or not. It’s not my story to tell, but if he truly wants to know the details of how the war affected us, he needs to know Sam’s story. “The man who I told you about, he used to be a baker. His bakery was destroyed in the war, his home too. His wife lost a child recently.” Most likely due to stress and malnutrition. The more her belly grew, the sicker she looked. “They don’t have a dime to their name. They have nothing left, and no way to get it back.” 

“Did they go to the palace for help?” 

I snort a laugh at the prospect. 

“What?” He seems genuinely confused at my scuff.

I shake my head. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Please tell me.”

“The wait to get into the palace has always been so ridiculous that you expect anyone to wait for hours just to be turned away at the end of the day just to do it again and again. When you finally get in, you’re given enough money to last a day. It was pathetic.” 

I’m slightly satisfied with how disgusted he looked. Either he really had no idea what we’ve been through, or he’s good at acting. “I wasn’t aware that people were getting turned away, or that they were receiving insufficient funds. I will see what I can do to help.” 

Apparently, this prince doesn’t know much about his kingdom at all. 

“That’s just one person’s story. There are dozens like him out there.” I couldn’t be sure how many other people, but I know that Sam is not the only one disabled from the war.

“Will you take me to these people to help them?” 

His offer is more generous than I was anticipating. As tempting as it sounds, I shake my head. Until he gives me a reason to, I can’t trust him.

“Then, I’m not sure what I can do to help.”

“You could release me.” 

“And then what? You’ll go until you get caught stealing again?” 

I don’t have an answer to that.

~

I haven’t been back to town since I went right after the war with Taehyung to look for jobs. I assumed it wasn’t safe, just in case anyone had caught glimpses of me on my escapades and would rat me out as a thief. He, of course, went frequently and reported back what he saw. 

A few places are built back from what I can tell, with the occasional spot that’s missing in between buildings, hay laid over the charred ground. At least they tore out all of the burnt buildings. 

It looks better than I was expecting. I’ve grown admiration for my people who not only fought a war, but came back from it, almost entirely by themselves. 

It’s nowhere the same as its glory days, but a far cry from the rubble that was left after the war. People mill about here and there, but the town is still not as lively as it once was. I don’t think it can ever be again. “Let’s stop here.” The Prince expertly turns his horse around, parking it in front of a clothing shop. My stop is much less graceful. 

“Are you taking me on a shopping trip for yourself?” 

He doesn’t acknowledge my rude tone. He’s proven to be pretty good at that, so far. “I want to speak to the people.”

I walk in behind him, and the woman behind the counter greets us casually before she gazes up and takes us in. In the next second, she gathers up her dress to bow on her knees. 

The gesture of bowing to another human being is so odd to me. What exactly had he done to earn this woman’s unquestionable respect besides be born into some family. “You may rise.”

Listening at once, she makes meticulous work at straightening out her dress. “How can I help you, your highness?” 

“I’m here to purchase some clothes.” 

My brow furrows. So he lied to me? 

“Of course.” She rushes over to the display on the far right. “This is our men’s section.”

“Actually,” he turns towards me. “It’s for the lady.”

I believe the shop owner and I hold similar expressions of shock. One, because he called me a lady, two because he’s offering to buy me something. Another trap of his?

She however, recovers much quicker than me. “Right. We have a fine collection of dresses here.”

A dress. I haven’t worn one since I was 14. They were too cumbersome for stealing. They tripped me up and slowed me down. I quickly learned pants worked much better. 

I turn to the Prince. “Why are you buying me clothes?” 

“Because you said you don’t have any.”

Could that really be it? I eye him skeptically. “I don’t wear dresses.” 

He comes closer to speak lowly so the shop owner cannot eavesdrop. “It’s not seen as proper for a lady to wear pants,” I open my mouth to speak, but he’s already interrupted me, “outside of your uniform.”

“Nothing about this situation is proper.”

We stare at each other for a moment, the shop owner fidgeting with her dress, not knowing what to do with herself. He finally looks away. “Very well, look at the pants then.”

He steps out of the way, gesturing towards the men’s section. The shop owner’s face is contorted, but she doesn’t dare speak out against the Prince. 

I step up to the display, running my hand along the material. It’s sturdy and soft, but probably nowhere near as high quality as what the Prince is wearing. “Did you make these yourself?”

She appears taken aback by me, like doesn’t know what to think. I know that, as long as I’m with the prince, she will treat me with respect. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You are very talented.” 

She bows her head slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

A little girl runs into the room, giggling. The sight warms my heart for a moment before it drops. I hope the children at the camp are doing okay. A man runs in behind her, snatching her up. He huffs through his thick beard. “Sorry about that. She got away from me.” His eyes meet mine briefly before glancing over at the Prince. His entire demeanor changes once he realizes who he’s standing across from. “Your highness.” He immediately sits his daughter down to bow deeply. “ What brings you here?” he’s unable to hide the worry in his voice. 

“I am here as a customer.” 

“How much?” I point towards the pants on display. They have a beautiful design etched into where the pockets are, running down each leg. 

“For the Prince, it is free.”

He shakes his head. “We are here as paying customers.” Well, he is. 

“Thank you for your generosity, you highness,” she bows lowly this time.

Good gods, if I never heard those two words again for the rest of my life it’d be too soon. 

“Hi, ” a little voice says near me. I look down at the little girl, and she reminds me of Ingrid. If only Ingrid could have such nice clothes. “I’m Ottilie, I’m five.”

“Hi Ottilie, I like your braids.” I gesture to her hair and she giggles a “thanks.”

“Come here dear, leave them alone,” the shop owner waves her over.

“No, she’s fine,” I reassure her.

The little girl listens to me, much to her parent’s chagrin. 

“Why are you buying pants? You’re a girl and boys wear pants.”

I squat down so I'm closer to her height. “Because Ottilie,” I say hushed as to not anger her parents. “Girls can do things boys can. Sometimes better.”

She giggles like we shared a secret and I stand again. 

I must be taking too long to decide on what to grab because he walks up beside me. “Grab as much as you would like.”

See, I don’t care much for fashion anymore. The excess of anything makes me feel sick. However, I know that the money will benefit this family. I grab four pairs of pants and three shirts. 

When I bring them up to the counter she says, “You will need these tailored since they’re men’s clothes.”

I’m about to deny her request, but the Prince speaks first. “I will have them sent to the royal tailor.”

She bows slightly. “Of course, your highness.” 

“When did you open your shop back up? After the war?” His question surprises us both as she packages my new clothes. 

“Thankfully, our building wasn’t damaged too badly. All of our inventory was stolen, so we had to re-purchase material. We were able to open back up almost a year ago now.” 

“Were you paid your reparations?” 

It turns out we aren’t just here for a shopping trip after all. 

She ducks her head down low. “No, your highness, but our community has been strong together. We have helped each other. We rely on the Windfell values of community to succeed.”

I quickly close my eyes to resist rolling them at how brainwashed she sounds. The kingdom has done fuck-all to help the community, and yet she still gives them credit.

“Who else has suffered damages in the community?”

Her mouth opens and shuts, and I know why. The answer is everyone. 

“A lot have given up their businesses. Some have disappeared. Others, like us, were blessed by the gods and were able to build back.”

He digs into his pocket, retrieving several gold coins, laying them on the counter. He’s actually going to help these people. He brought way more money in that sack then he would need for a mere shopping trip. This is the kind of money that could change lives. 

“Oh, no, your highness. I couldn’t accept this.”

“It is what you’re owed.” 

“Give it to someone else who needs it more,” the husband adds. “We have been doing just fine here.”

“I will trade you for information then. Give me a list of names and addresses of people who lost their work after the war.” 

Unable to keep the surprise from my face this time, I glance at him. He doesn’t acknowledge me. 

She bows once more. “Of course, your highness.” 

~

We walk out of the shop with a knapsack full of clothes and a list. When leaving, I almost thanked him for the clothes, then I remembered who he was. It would take a lot to get me to thank the royal family for anything. 

The first place on the list turns out to be a farm. The land stretches on and on, but very little food is growing. At one time, I imagine it must have fed thousands. 

A few different people are scattered around the land, and the sound of our horses’ hooves approaching gains the attention of a woman plowing. She meets us halfway as we ride up the long drive. 

Once she recognizes the Prince, she bows, but almost begrudgingly. A frown deepens the wrinkles on her face. “Prince Jungkook. What brings you out here?”

While he explains, I look out onto the field expanse where several men are working, tilling and sowing seeds. One of them has their back to me, but I’d recognize his frame anywhere, I’ve slept next to it for many nights. 

When he spots me, it takes a while for him to fully decide if it's me. He starts to run over, but I shake my head. I don’t want the Prince to know who he is. At least he knows that I’m safe, and the same for him. It eases my mind a little. 

I turn, tuning back into their conversation. “Our farm was completely burned down. We had to build everything from scratch. My husband was injured in the war, so me and our sons are left with all the work. The ground is just now healed enough that it’s taking seed.”  

“Is that your son?” The Prince asks, nodding his head in Taehyung’s direction. 

She looks behind her at Taehyung who quickly looks away when he notices he’s gained the attention of everyone. “He’s a volunteer worker. People are desperate these days for some work so we gave it to him. It’s nice to have another hand around.” 

“What can I do to help?”

“Help?” she sneers. “We don’t need help. We’ll have a harvest soon enough and hopefully start making profit again.” 

“That is, if people will be able to afford it,” I can’t help but mutter. 

The woman glares at me with what I imagine is how I look at the Prince. 

“The amount of time it’s taken you to finally get off your ass and do something, we've all managed to build back by ourselves. ”

I hold my breath, anticipating what the Prince’s reaction will be to being disrespected. Will he get angry? Will he arrest her too? Gods know that if it were the king, the woman would be on her knees begging for mercy by now.

“The severity of the situation has only now come to my attention. I desire to make it right, even if it may be too late.”

The humility in his response is so unexpected it’s hard to digest. I remind myself that this is his job, and one he should have done a long time ago. The farmer’s accusatory tone was completely warranted. He’s the one who has been failing at his job. This is the bare minimum he could do.

“Well, we’ve made it this far on our own. We’re not the ones who need help. It’s the single mothers and wounded soldiers that are struggling the most. We’re lucky that we have grown sons to help us. Otherwise, we’d be fucked.”

I can tell the Prince is taken back from her coldness, but remains his composure. “I understand. Thank you for your time.” 

“Wait!” I call before the Prince takes off and the woman walks away. “What about to pay your workers? You said you didn’t have enough money to pay them.” I glance at the Prince, pleading with my eyes. 

“For now, it’s just the boy and our family. He should be fine without any money for now. We’re feeding him.”

“Here.” The prince holds out a few coins and my heart relaxes a little. When she doesn’t take it, he sets it on the fence. I can only hope that she shares some of it with Taehyung. 

We meet eyes again quickly, his with obvious shock at the situation. The prince guides us away a few moments later. 

“Maybe you can explain it to me. Why does no one seem to want my help? Clearly they need it.”

“There are definitely people who are worse off, which I think is why they are refusing your money. They believe if they were to take it, they would be taking it away from people who need it more.”

“And where are these people?”

“I’m sure more people on the list will be willing to accept aid. That was only our first try. The homeless need it the most, but the people who are homeless aren’t out in the open,” I explain. “You have to hide away because the people here will treat you poorly.”  

“But, you won’t take me to those people.” 

I shake my head. “People don’t want handouts anyway. Most of them want to work but can’t.

 Everyone wants to feel useful in some way. There are certain obstacles in their way, whether that be a physical or mental disability. They just need the resources to be able to get through those obstacles.”  

~

“Are you hungry?”

It’s such a normal question, and yet, it jars me. The answer to the question for years has always been such a resounding yes that no one bothered to ever ask me that. Hunger became a state of being for me. 

“Ivara?” He calls my name to get my attention. 

“I am always hungry, and yet not at the same time.” 

I could tell my answer confused him, but he didn’t prod. 

I don’t desire to go anywhere with him, but he’s actually helping. I don’t want to ruin it with my pissy attitude towards him. Whatever compelled him to listen to me, I can’t be sure, but I won’t take it for granted, no matter how I feel about him.

He takes me to a restaurant inside the town square. Beragio’s. I recognize the name, but I can’t figure out why. 

It’s been so long since I’ve been in public, and going to so many in one day is overwhelming. It almost feels as if nothing has happened. On the outside, not much has changed as I look around the restaurant. But, that lingering knot in my stomach is what pulls me back into reality. Nothing is back to normal. The man with me reminds me of that. 

The Prince arrives at the back door, and the man who greets us acts as if this is a normal thing. He leads us into a private room, and the Prince sits opposite of me, facing the wall to keep as many on-lookers away as possible. 

“I take it you come here often?” I ask, referring to what seemed like procedure for them. 

“When I was younger, before the war, I would go out a lot.”

“Not anymore?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“Why did you bring me here then?” I meant to the restaurant, but also to this outing. Couldn’t he have handed out money without me? 

“Truly,” he pauses, contemplating if he should tell me or not. “I wished to speak with you about where you came from.”

What about my story intrigued him so badly? I assume he’s never met a poor person before and I must be his new research project. I cannot speak for everyone, but I can give my perspective. “What did you want to know?” 

“Why did you end up stealing? Is it something you’ve been doing for a long time?”

His question arouses a flood of memories back to me. 

Taehyung was surprised when I expressed the desire to hunt with him. At that point, it was just the four of us. Taehyung, Sam, Mary, and I. I didn’t think it was fair that he was responsible for feeding all of us. Especially when it wasn’t safe to go out in the woods alone with the Brecken on the loose. 

We killed every wildlife we encountered, and soon, we quickly learned that hunting would not be enough to feed our growing family. Five mouths soon turned into six, seven, and eventually would become a whole camp full. 

Sam and Mary went out to town to search for jobs again. Turns out, nobody was hiring, and those that were, didn’t want someone without function of their hands and a breastfeeding mom. Taehyung was convinced that we would find more game to hunt. He’s always been blinded by his desire of what he wants to happen, instead of living realistically.  

I snuck out to steal for the first time after the first child, Slade, joined us. He told us the story of how he watched his family die, and how he escaped by himself. Mary’s maternal instincts already kicked in, and she held him while he cried the whole night. One night was too many of seeing him starve. After everything he went through to survive, I wasn't going to let him starve.

It was the middle of the night, and I crept into the nearest village of houses, which was a very affluent village. The closer to the kingdom, the wealthier people are. The further away, the more people struggle.  

I walked for no telling how long before finding an open window. I still had a conscience back then. Guilt ate at my insides, but I ignored it. I had no choice. We were going to starve. I checked inside, seeing a child asleep on the bed in the corner. 

 As quietly as possible, I snuck into the room. The floorboard creaked beneath my feet and I almost let out a curse before remembering I was to be as quiet as possible. I made it for the kitchen without issue. I wasn’t sure what to grab. Milk? It would spoil. Eggs? But we’d need a pan to cook them. I didn’t have a bag or anything on me yet. Bread was good, but I could only carry what I could stuff into my dress. 

“Hey!” a voice yelled behind me. I truly believed my heart stopped at that moment. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

I turned to the homeowner, my hands and dress full of their items. She was in her sleeping gown.

“Im sorry, but I’m starving,” that was the only thing I could think in the moment to say. Surely, she wouldn’t punish a starving kid?

She seemed to soften a bit at my statement. “Where are your parents?” 

“Dead.” 

A look of sympathy passed over her face. “Just put the stuff down and I won’t turn you in.” 

That wasn’t an option for me. I had spotted the front door when I came in. It was right behind her. I darted to her left, and she scrambled after me, like I’d hoped she would. “Harold, wake up!” She yelled. 

Running into the sitting area, I made a circle, jumping over the couch, straight for the front door. “Just put the food down you little shit!”

The fucking door was locked. I heard her footsteps right behind me as she screamed again for her husband. My hands shook so bad I almost didn’t get the door unlocked. Almost. 

When I ran down their drive, she stood in the open doorway, not bothering to run after me. “You’ll go to hell for this!” 

I returned back to camp that night without anyone noticing I was gone and laid out the assortment for the morning. 

I never told anyone that I got caught. I knew they’d never let me do it again. Sam and Mary were on the fence, but eating a full meal for the first time, and watching Slade’s happiness at the food solidified their support for me. I’m sure they knew that soon, it would be their child that would be the one starving instead.

I learned time of day didn’t matter as long as I didn’t get caught. The adrenaline and the satisfaction of getting away was addicting, no doubt. But, if another option was presented to me any day, I would have taken it. Deep down I knew that one day, it would be my last time stealing. 

The prince let me tell my story, listening attentively. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to do that.”

His choice of words irritates me. “I didn’t feel like it. We would have starved.”

He says something back, but I can’t hear him because it hits me.

This business was one of few to start back up after the war. The family came from money, therefore they were able to support themselves. They were one of the ones who turned down Sam when he applied for a job. They said he was “useless” to them. They were willing to hire Mary, but she refused in protest for her husband. I couldn’t say I blamed her. 

When a man appears from the backrooms, his outfit pristine, not matching any of the uniforms, I quickly identify him as the owner. 

The man bows to Jungkook, paying no attention to me. “Is everything to your liking, you highness?” 

“Yes-” Jungkook says at the same time I stand from my chair, drawing both of their attention. 

I want to scream and yell at him for being discriminatory. For clearly living his same life of luxury while the rest of us have suffered. No words find me. Instead, I find my hand clasping my full glass of water, propelling its contents towards him. 

The glass of water shocks the man still as he assesses his now ruined attire. “What the hell-”

“Do you remember a man named Samuel? With burn scars on his hands?”  

The man sputters, clearly remembering. He looks to the Prince to intervene, but I’m faster. “I’ll help you out, he came to you a few years ago looking for a job. He’s the one you called ‘useless’?” I don’t give him a chance to respond before spitting out a “fuck you.”

I stomp out of the back of the restaurant when I hear the Prince profusely apologizing. 

The Prince is hot on my tail on the way to our horses. “Why are you behaving like a feral animal?” His tone is condescending and reprimanding and the exact thing that fuels the fire of my anger.  

I wheel around on him. “You picked me up from the woods, and expect me to act civil? Guess what? You can’t trap a wild animal and expect it to turn domesticated.”

“Even if you had a problem with that man, that is no way to act.”

“My sensibility for those things vanished the day my parents died. That was the day I realized this world does not care for my feelings, and I will not coddle those that do not deserve it just because it is ‘proper’!”

~

I spend my next free day sleeping. I should have been training, or finding a way to escape. But, once I knew that there was nowhere I had to be, my body wouldn't leave the bed. I slept for hours, harder and longer than I had since the war. Seeing Taehyung yesterday and giving his boss the money, it put just enough reassurance in me to relax enough to sleep.

I felt confident the Prince would not want to see me today with the way we left things yesterday. We rode back to the castle in silence. I could care less what he thought. My actions wouldn’t avenge what he made Sam feel, but at least I ruined his day.

At some point, I drag myself out of bed at the prospect of a bath.

The bathing room for the maids is at the end of my long hallway. I’d never been in one before this one. The first time I stepped in to find a room of entirely naked women, I was taken aback. I’d almost been too shy to take my clothes off in front of them, but the prospect of a warm bath for the first time in years was too tempting. 

I’m used to it already, drawing my clothes off without a thought. The women around me whisper and stare. I get it, I’m the outcast here. 

I step into the giant tub and find my way to an empty corner to soak. The warm water feels amazing on my muscles, and unlike taking a bath as a kid, the water never grows cold. I lean against the stone wall, letting my head fall back onto the floor. If I’m not careful I could fall asleep here. 

That is, until a voice pierces the tranquil silence. “You’re training to be a guard, right?” 

I sit up, losing my small piece of relaxation. 

The woman appears to be around my age, and I immediately spot the gaggle of women behind her also listening for an answer. She must have been the one they sent forward to quiz the anomaly that is me.

I look back at her again. “I am.”

“So, how do you know Prince Jungkook?”

“I don't," I answer flatly.

Her smile falters. Clearly it wasn’t the answer she wanted. 

“Do you have to do all the same trials as them?”

“I’m not exempt, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She nods, as if not understanding that I was insulted by her. “Wow, that’s interesting. You must be really strong.”

I give her a blank stare in return and she turns back to her friends who giggle. 

Clearly, I am just entertainment for them. I didn’t ask for this, to be this speculation. I can’t even take a bath in peace. 

“Well, I’m Claire. You should hang out with us sometime.”

“I don’t really have time for hanging out.”

She finally gets the hint that I do not want to speak with her, already backing away. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” 

She swims away and I sigh. So much for relaxing now. 

~

The next morning, after the run, we are lined up in front of another tall bar like the one with the ropes. Except, this one is empty. 

“You are to hold on to the bar as long as you can. You must hold until we say stop, or you fail the test.”

More arm strength, which I do not have. This one plays out much like the rope test. The muscular guys fail first, the lighter ones sticking around longer. Punishments are called out to the ones who drop first. Some have to run laps, some bathroom duty, some kitchen duty. My name is called last, which I think I dislike more than going first. At least I could get it over with first. 

Copying the men around me, I wipe my hands on my pants. The whistle sounds and I know I have to jump and grab the bar before I’m disqualified. That happened to a few men the first couple rounds. 

The sun beats down on my back, the warmer months at their peak. It won’t be long until my hands grow too sweaty to hold on. It’s impossible to gauge the time passing. Each breath feels like forever has passed. My muscles scream to let go. I refuse to be the first one to drop. I can’t run any more laps. I’m exhausted. 

Just three more breaths, I tell myself. Three more breaths and someone will drop. They have to. My muscles start to shake, but my grip doesn’t waver. I can make it. I can do it. 

My left hand slips from the sweat and my heart drops. I quickly recover it, but my grip is not nearly as strong as it was. Three more breaths. One, I inhale and exhale. Two, inhale, exhale. Three, inhale, 

Both hands slip loose. 

~

I stand at the bathroom door in astonishment, unable to make myself go in. If it had ever been cleaned, you couldn’t tell it. 

The stains and the smell, it’s too much for me. This is worse than punishment. This is torture. I take my filled buck and force myself to kneel. The sponge is between my hand and floor, I keep reminding myself. I’m not technically touching the floor, but when I have to put the sponge back in the water, I’ll be touching the dirty water. The thought makes me want to vomit.

My body aches from a full day’s worth of training. I have half a mind to just throw the bucket of soapy water and call it a day. No one would probably know the difference. These stains aren’t going to disappear. 

It’s late at night and not many people are around, which I was grateful for until a man stumbles in, clearly drunk. 

“The bathroom’s closed for cleaning.” I announce loudly from my spot on the floor. 

I shouldn’t have said anything. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed me. Now, his eyes rake over me.

“Well,” he slurs, stumbling closer to me. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” He’s maybe forty years old in a guards uniform. He’s got a smaller stature, but being alone with him was still intimidating. 

“The bathroom is closed.” I repeat firmly, trying to stand my ground.

He huffs. “I’ll use the bathroom if I want to.” He goes for the urinal and I hear his buckle being undone. I turn my head and close my eyes. Maybe he’ll leave after this. 

When he’s done, I listen for his footsteps to leave. Instead, they grow closer. 

My heart rate speeds up, and I look up to find him coming towards me. “Don’t come any closer.” Use ya words. “I’m serious.” Okay, maybe I could have said something a little more threatening. 

He chuckles. “I’d like to see what you’d do about it sweetheart.”

I shoot up from the floor. My foot is flying between his legs before he can even register it. Use the ol’ kick to the groin.

He howls in pain, grabbing himself. “You little brat!” 

I try to go around him, but he chases me. The bucket of now dirty water flies out of my hands and towards his face before I realize what I’m doing.  

He yells at me as I run out of the room. 

~

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will escape. Tomorrow turns into the next day. And the next day. And the next. I am so exhausted from training when I go to bed that I don’t have the energy in me to try and escape. 

Then, I have an idea. 

“Am I allowed to leave to the city by myself?” I ask Namjoon one morning at breakfast. 

“Once you are moved up the rank from a trainee to a cadet, then you may have permission to leave on your days off.”

The tests are in a week and a half. That feels like eternity here, but it is my safest bet. I couldn’t risk being followed home. 

That would be it. My last day here. 

~

I must admit, I never knew much of what went on in my own kingdom. My father has always pushed for me to remain focused on the army. I buried my head into working my way to commander, without concern for much else. 

I’ve always let my father and brother handle the politics without involving myself, except when it came to war, or relations with other kingdoms. That has always been my focus. 

When my brother Seokjin died, it left me helpless and hopeless. I should have done more to prevent it. When I think back to the day, there are a million things I would do differently. I’m commander, safety is my responsibility. I failed him that day. 

 My father did not allow a grieving period. Immediately following Jin’s death, I was forced into his shoes. I was meant to be commander, not king. He was supposed to be the ruler this kingdom deserves. The one who would take over after my father and clean up his messes. Not me. 

Most nights, I would break down in my room when I was finally alone. Hoseok, my brother’s advisor, now mine, was the only one I would open up to. My father taught me to be emotionless. The royal family was not to make decisions based on emotion. How else was I supposed to make decisions when grief blinded everything I did? 

As a small child, I envied Jin. He was the one everyone cared about, the one father paid the most attention to. Everything revolved around Jin.

It didn’t take me long to rid of my envy. When he was forced as a child to start working with father. I saw the stress that it put on him, the easy-going nature slowly disappearing from him. 

Jin was the one who knew everything about the people, and what went on in this kingdom. I knew nothing. I still know little, but fuck if I’m not trying. 

When father asks me to stay behind after a meeting, I know exactly who it is about.

“I’ve heard word of a female guard causing all kinds of ruckus, and apparently it’s your doing? Care to explain?” 

I was going to confront my father about it first, so the information could come from me, but time has slipped away from me recently. 

My answer isn’t as rehearsed as I’d like it to be. “I thought she would be a good asset. She is very skilled at archery.” 

He scoffs. “How good can she be? I heard she’s struggling to do basic training.” 

If I could find whoever is whispering in my father’s ear about what happens at training, I would put an end to it. “She’s the daughter of Aldris, and almost as good a shot as him.” 

Finally, I said something right. The King appears, almost impressed. “I wasn’t aware he had any living children. Well, I guess I should see how good she is that she’s got you so enthralled. If she completes her tests, I would like to come watch her shoot.” 

I know what he means by that. If she’s not worth the trouble, she will be gotten rid of. She will be competing in a test she doesn’t even know she’s a part of. 

She’s proven to be a thorn in my side so far with burning hatred for me and my family, and an affinity for thieving and running away. For some reason, the idea of my father doing anything to her makes me feel sick to my stomach. Perhaps I feel guilty for what she’s been through. 

I know there was a reason why Ivara Aldris was stealing the food from my countryside cottage, and it didn’t seem to be for some cheap thrill. Her story about her first time stealing pained me. The fact that a child felt it their sole responsibility to take care of others was unfair. And it was because my kingdom had failed her. 

Her words she yelled at me as she was taken to the dungeons haunted me. So much so, I could not sleep that night. It was the first time someone had been so blatantly critical of me. It wasn't some measly insult I could brush off. She accused me of failing to protect my kingdom, arguably the most important part of my job, opening my eyes to a world I was blind to. 

I cannot take away the wrong things that happened in the past, but I have to do my best to set the future straight.  

I went out the next day to check on things in town. It had been a while since I visited the city, but I didn’t think things could have gotten that bad. Things were exactly as I remembered them. Sure, a few businesses were lost to the war and never came back, but that was expected. There were the same amount of beggars as before the war.

I felt smug when I told her about how I checked on the people, only to feel small when she called me out again. 

Of course, the problems wouldn’t be that easy to spot. Had my father done anything to help the people repair the city? Likely he had, but I couldn’t be sure. I needed to go find out for myself. These were things the prince should be aware of. Things my brother would have been aware of. I knew better than to press my father on the matter. It would only interfere with my goals. 

She hasn’t tried to escape since that night, which worries me. It’s doubtful that she’s given up that quickly. She must be hiding something up her sleeve. She’s too clever not to.

After the meeting, I go out to the training yard to check on the trainees. Everytime, my eyes can’t help but to look for her and check to see how she’s doing. I eventually find her attempting the rope climb. She gets about halfway up before she falls from the rope entirely. 

I resist the urge to run and check on her. I know the other trainees already give her a hard time about me. She lays limp on the ground for a while, and I’m about to say fuck it and go help her when another man approaches. Instantly, at the sight of him, she jumps up like nothing happened. 

From their expressions, it looks like choice words are being had. I wish I knew what they were saying, but I can’t get too close or I’ll be spotted. He’s trying to get under her skin, but she’s holding her ground. 

She waits until he is long gone to attempt to climb the rope again. 

Whatever she’s been through, she’s come out of the other side with a shell I’m sure is too tough to crack. Her behavior at the restaurant proved so. I was immensely embarrassed at her actions, apologizing profusely, though I couldn’t shake what she had said. 

The owner had apparently not only denied someone closer to her a job because of a disability, but also insulted them in the meantime. Despite being embarrassed of how she handled things, I will not be back to the establishment. 

When I assigned her to guard training, I assumed she would half-ass it and fail the first test. I would send her home after, and consider that good enough punishment. What I didn’t take into account is that she would actually try. Will she actually defeat all odds and become the first female guard? I have a feeling it wouldn’t be her first time defeating the odds.

~

He turned and pointed to the distance. “See that flicker over there? That’s our fire. My wife must have started it. We don’t light the fire until right when we need to cook.” 

Maybe it wasn’t wise for me to follow a stranger further into the woods, but I figured I was about to die from hunger, forest fire, or by enemies. It seemed like my best bet at survival. 

Sure enough, we found a woman and a small child sitting beside a fire. “This is Mary,” he pointed to the woman, “and Ingrid,” at the child. “Taehyung should be back soon.” 

“I just heard him,” said Mary, looking behind her. 

A boy approached from the edge of the woods, putting me on high alert. Sam didn’t bat an eye, so I assumed it was someone he knew. It was then that I realized what he had in both hands. The cages were made out of sticks and inside are two brown balls of fuzz. 

Rabbits.

I felt sick when I realized what we were going to be eating. I recalled the sweet animals fluttering around my house growing up, and my mother trying to ward them off her strawberries she grew.

“Who’s this?” His voice was gruff for a young boy.

I couldn’t help but notice how handsome the boy was. I was a fourteen year old girl after all who had only begun to experience her new life. I still thought about things like that.

“Taehyung, this is Ivara.” 

The boy barely glanced at me. I was disappointed. He was too old to be their son, but I wonder who he was to them. 

“They’re still in the town, but there’s been no reports of them trying to move out into the countryside. We should be okay.” 

I knew he was talking about the Brecken. They’d taken over our town. Ransacked our businesses and homes. I had heard Mama and Papa talk of it. They tried to talk of it only after I’d gone to bed, but I would sneak around to listen. 

“Maybe we could go ask someone for shelter,” I suggested. Surely we weren’t planning on staying out here. We couldn’t all survive off of two rabbits a night. 

“We tried. Nobody wants extra mouths to feed,” Taehyung answered, bitterness clear in his tone. 

“People don’t know who to trust right now,” Sam attempted to reason. 

All night, the boy seemed cold and distant, but when it was time to eat, he offered me the much bigger piece of meat and took the smaller one for himself. That was when I decided to trust him. 

Mary was swollen with child, hobbling like she could give birth any minute. She still fussed over her husband all the same. I watched her remove the cloth on his damaged arms and replace it with a new one of the same color. It looks to me like it might have been someone’s overcoat once. I wondered what happened to him. Mary noticed my curious glances and said, “Our bakery was targeted a few days ago. We were inside when they set it on fire. Sam wrapped himself around us to help get us each out.” 

My eyes flickered to the child who looked to be a couple years old. Her red hair was as bright as her fathers, despite her mothers dark locks. I knew my father also would have done the same for me and my mother. He would have died in the fire if it meant saving us. Tears came to my eyes at the thought of them. I’d never see them again. 

She gathered the rags that she removed. “I’ll have to take it to the creek to wash them. I’m sure you’re thirsty too. We’ve been boiling water from the creek.”  She glanced at me before stilling.

“I’ll go do it. You stay here,” Taehyung offered. He didn’t leave room for protest as he collected the rags from Mary and headed to where I assumed the creek was. 

“Oh honey,” Mary cooed, sitting beside me. I hadn’t noticed I was crying until she wiped my tears away. That brought out a full sob in me. She wrapped me in her arms, holding me against her swollen stomach. I imagined that it was my mother’s arms around me, holding me, and that my father is still alive. It only worked to break my heart more.

When Taehyung returned I felt the need to stop crying. He didn't seem like the type to cry over anything. 

I couldn’t say that I was full or that I didn't want to keep drinking when we passed the water around earlier, but I was in much better shape than I was before. I had some water and some food in me.

Falling asleep in the woods was still scary, but I felt a little safer with these people around me this time. I slept through the night for the first time. 

~

The sun is just starting to creep out, the fog limiting the visibility to only a few feet in front of me on the castle grounds. There’s maybe a hundred men gathered. Some in casual clothes, some without shirts. They goof off with each other, laughing and rough housing. 

It’s not at all how I imagined royal guards in training to act. I’m used to seeing them stiff with straight faces and backs. I guess that gets drilled into you later. 

The same boy from yesterday was the one to wake me up this morning, dragging me out into the cold morning air. Training. I’m being trained. For the royal guard. The idea is laughable, but I keep my chuckle inside my head.

I”m toward the back, so I don’t gain too much attention, but I still receive looks. And stares. And whispers. And not so quiet words about me hanging around them. 

A few men look like they want to approach me, but stop when they glance at Namjoon who remains beside me, on the Prince's orders, I surmise. Maybe they assume I’m his girlfriend rooting him on. A woman as a guard is just too hard to believe. 

A man at the front of the crowd whistles loud enough that every man stills and it immediately quietens down. “One lap around the perimeter. Slowest ones are on bathroom duty.” I recognized the Prince’s voice. I step around someone to confirm it’s him. Oh it’s him alright. Did none of these men own shirts?!

“What is the Prince doing here?” I ask Namjoon. 

“You didn’t know? He is the commander.” 

No, I didn’t know. I stupidly assumed it was still his father. Of course it was him. His father would have never let me in his ranks. 

It doesn’t take long for everyone to pass me and leave me tailing behind. I thought I was in shape from walking all over the Kingdom on the hunt, and running away when I get caught. This is proving me wrong. Running short distances quickly I’m good at. But jogging long distances? I’m not sure I have the endurance. 

After a while, I can tell Namjoon wants to run on, but for some reason he’s trailing behind with me. Whether that is to keep me safe, or to keep others safe from me, I’m not sure. 

Scared of being too behind, I run as fast as my body can take it. Even then, I’m dead last. A few minutes later, my vision starts to black out, but I keep running. I can’t give up. No one here will ever take me seriously. I’ll be an easy target. Eventually, my feet catch up to me and I’m being flung to the ground by my own dead weight.

Namjoon yells my name, and that is the last thing I register. 

~

“She hasn’t eaten in days from what I can tell. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. Definitely not in any shape to be exercising.” A woman’s loud voice wakes me from my slumber. I feel as though I’ve woken from the dead.

When my vision comes to, I can just make out the Prince’s figure standing, staring daggers at me. Why was he pissed at me?! I’m the one who’s hurt. “You’ve been starving yourself?” It was more of an accusation than a question.

“Huh?” I rub the sleep out of my eye, thinking maybe this is all a hallucination and the Prince will disappear when I do.

“Namjoon should have offered you food from the canteen. Why have you not been eating?”

I didn’t think about eating last night, I wasn’t hungry, and I have no time this morning. I was drug straight to training. “I don’t want to be here,” I answer plainly. 

“She’s been starving long before today,” the woman speaks again. A nurse. I’m in the nurse’s station. “She’s skin and bones. When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” 

 For the first time, he shows concern, and his forehead slightly frowns. 

Years. It’s been years since I ate a proper meal. “The day before yesterday.” 

“How much? A scrap?” 

We ration our food, because we have to, that’s what I want to say, but for some reason I’m embarrassed. I should use this moment to show the Prince how his people live. I recognize that look on the Prince’s face. Pity. And it doesn’t taste as good as I imagined it. 

His eyes meet mine again, and they're once again stern. For some reason it brings me relief. “Don’t let her out again until she is well.” With that, he exits.

I feel like I can breathe a little easier without him in the same room.

The nurse stirs something in a pot over the fire before ladling it out into a cup and handing it over to me. “Drink this bone broth. It’s full of nutrients.” 

The murky liquid looks unappetizing, but tastes savory with spices I haven’t tasted in years. It takes all of me not to down it in one go. If I learned one thing from successful loots over the years, it’s that when you’re not used to consuming so much, it’s wise to take it slow. 

I was devastated the time I threw up all the chocolate I had found. It was two years before I found some again. 

The nurse comes in and out of my room the rest of the day to check on me and to stuff me with food and drink. I’ve had bread with a melted cheese and meat mixture that was delightful, different teas, and small snacks she tries to force me to eat. So this is how royalty eat. 

I have the urge to finish everything so I don’t waste it, but I grow too full and don’t want to make myself sick. I wonder how many people they could feed with their leftovers. 

I think about my camp and how they would gorge themselves on this food if they had access. I wish I could sneak it back home somehow. 

I’ve gone days without eating before, but I always made sure they had something, even if I did without. I would lie to them and tell them I had taken something for myself while I was gone. 

I wonder what they think happened to me. Taehyung probably is out looking for me, which puts him at risk of being caught. The thought sends pure panic into my veins. Surely the Prince set out a patrol to look for more of me. He’s not stupid enough to think I was living alone. 

The sooner I get back, the better. I might not be able to do much without a bow, but I'll go down fighting for the people I care about. 

I get up to test the door and find it unlocked. I could easily escape, there’s no guards in sight. But, I tell myself to wait until night when there’s less visibility. 

After the nurse feeds me my last meal, I get out of the bed, preparing myself. Peering out of my door, I pause for a few moments before determining the coast is clear. I make my footsteps light and keep my eyes peeled for movement. 

The castle seems to have settled down for the night, and I don’t hear many signs of life. The side door down the hall from my room is the one I chose for escape. I manage to make it there without running into anyone. The night air cuts into my skin, making me start to shiver. 

A guard is stationed nearby, his back facing the castle. Would he stop me if I tried to leave? They normally focus on keeping people out, not in, right? I’m still in the clothes from this morning, which hopefully makes me look less suspicious than my usual garb. I bow to him as if to show I’m not sneaking around. “Just going for a stroll.” I gesture lamely and the guard does not so much as blink back. Right. I’m going to assume it’s safe to continue.

Which direction was the camp? I remember running east from my home, but I could have zigzagged, sending me more north or west… My knowledge of things only extends from what I knew at fourteen and northeast of the camp. The space between the castle and the camp is unknown to me. I was always afraid to venture there. 

I decide it’s best to head towards the town and figure it out from there. Maybe I could ask around. 

In the woods, the only sounds are the bugs chirping and the occasional hoot of an owl. It’s strange to hear wildlife again after being in silence for a day. I’m grateful for its help to cover my sounds. Once I reach the perimeter of the grounds, I should run into guards. What will I say to them? Will I be able to talk my way out of here? 

A tall wall appears in the distance. Fuck, how am I supposed to get around that? I wish I had thought this through more, but I was too desperate to escape this place. 

I’ve been entirely alone on my walk here, so when I think I hear something behind me I freeze. When I glance around, I’m met with darkness. Then, it’s unmistakable, the sound of hooves on the leaves. It’s most likely a guard patrolling.

My first instinct is to hide. The only place I have to go is up. I’m not a particularly strong person, but the adrenaline kicks in enough to help pull myself up a couple limbs. 

Through the branches, I make out the figure of a horse and rider getting closer. I hold my breath, hoping they’ll pass under me none the wiser. It’s dark, they can’t see me, I tell myself. 

The rider and horse ride below me, and I’m about to relax when they stop directly below instead of going on. The rider gazes up, and I recognize the Prince’s face. “Running away on the first day?” 

I still myself, holding my breath, as if I can make myself disappear. 

“Do you want to come down, or do I have to come up there? I’ll admit it’s been a while since I climbed a tree..” 

My hands clutch onto my legs, holding myself. “You can’t keep me here.” I declare. 

“You committed a crime, I’d say I can punish you how I see fit.” The panic finally sets in. This is my fate. I’m trapped as a guard, forever serving against my will. The prince observes my trembling form. “And I’d like to think the punishment I chose wasn't very harsh, which leaves me perplexed as to why are you so eager to go back in the woods and starve? Do you hate me that much?”

The ignorance of it all is what angers me the most. “You used your people as a weapon for war and discarded them when you were done. Need I go on?” 

He scoffs, still conversing with me through the tree limbs. “I was a child during the war, same as you. Whatever happened was out of my control.”

I guess that’s true. It’s not him per say that is to blame, but it’s still his family. He still profits from the mistreatment and doesn’t lift a finger to fix it. 

“You think life here is worse than where you were?” 

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying my best to sound sincere when I plead. I know it’s a longshot, but it’s all I’ve got. “They depend on me. I can’t leave them.” 

“How many people rely on just you? None of the rest of them are capable of anything?” 

It’s not that they’re incapable, it’s that they’re not willing to do what I did. They were willing to excuse it when it was me committing the crimes, but if it came down to starving or stealing, I fear they’ll choose the latter. 

“These people who are relying on you, do they also steal?” 

I sneer at him. “They’re innocent people. Their families are broken, their houses were left to ash, and they have nothing.”

“Why can’t they get jobs?” 

Fire flashes behind my eyes and ignites inside me. “There’s no one who can afford to hire others. A man’s bakery was burnt down in the raid. Even if there were job options, his hands are damaged from trying to save his family from their burning house. How is he supposed to make a living to support his family when he can hardly dress himself?” 

I can’t see him, so I’m not sure what he’s thinking as the silence sets in. “I was unaware there is a job crisis. I will look into it.” 

I don’t buy his bullshit. How could he not know when people get sent home on the daily for trying to talk to him? How could he be so oblivious to the struggles of his own people? What kind of ruler is that? 

“Please leave them alone. If anything happens to them, I will-” my words cut off in a choke. 

“I’ll leave them alone if you obey orders.” 

I’m not sure if he can be trusted, but could I do much more if I ran off to them and he found me? At least now I have a chance. I’m not sure if there’s even a chance to save them by myself. Reluctantly, I climb down from the tree. 

I want to wipe the smug look off the Prince’s face. “Now. Do I need to see you off to your room?” 

I cross my arms, stalking off from him and towards the castle and I hear the horse gallop behind me. 

~

That night, I dream of Taehyung and the others. When I wake in the middle of the night reality sinks in like a heavy weight. 

~

A knock on my door is what wakes me the next morning. For a second, I forget where I am, disoriented to not see the walls of mine and Taehyung's tent. 

More knocks come that make me drag myself out of bed. I open the door to Namjoon who grins at me bashfully. “I was told to retrieve you for breakfast.”

“I thought we don’t eat until after the run?” 

“We’ve already ran.” 

“What?” Panicking, my mind fills with what my punishment could be for missing it. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

“You’re under medical orders after what happened yesterday.” 

Medical orders. I wonder how much the nurse had to convince the Prince in order to get me out of my duty that he so wants me to do. 

“I’ll let you get dressed before we go.” 

My head darts down to assess my appearance and I flush when I remember I just woke up. I slept only in a t-shirt last night. 

The canteen is filled to the brim with people, the chatter echoing down the halls of the castle. It’s only men I see and they look familiar to me from yesterday. I guess this is the palace guards and guards in training. 

Despite trying to ignore it, I feel the male gaze on me as I get in line to fill my tray with food. I’m not sure why there aren’t women guards. Have no women volunteered, or were they not allowed? 

Namjoon makes small talk with me the whole time, seemingly oblivious to the attention I’m gaining. It’s a whole sea of eyes when I turn to find a seat. No table is unoccupied, and dread fills me at the thought of having to sit next to one of them. 

Namjoon takes the lead so I follow behind. The guys at the table he stops at part with enough room for us two to sit. They all look about the same age as Namjoon and tease him like a brother. 

I meet the eye of a guy across from me I learn is Yoongi, and he nods his head in acknowledgement. It makes me feel a little better, indifference from at least one person. 

“So, why’d you get picked as the first female guard?” The one to the left of Yoongi asks. 

So it really was true? I open my mouth and close it. How could I tell them I’m being punished for thieving? They’d probably lose all respect for me.  

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the Prince.” 

“You look like a breeze could knock you over, oh wait. Didn’t that happen yesterday?” some guy makes a passing comment. That earns a few chuckles around. Suddenly, my food doesn’t seem very appetizing. 

“Don’t listen to them,” Namjoon nudges my arm and I try to give a small smile of appreciation that probably looks more like a grimace. I wonder if he knows the true reason why I’m here. 

“All right gentlemen. Enough stuffing your face. Be at the Arena in five minutes.” the Prince calls out over the noisy canteen. 

“Arena?” I question out loud. 

“Yeah. It’s where we work on one on one combat. Don’t worry, Rookies have to do something else entirely,” Yoongi explains.

Worry I should have. 

My Sargent stands a few feet away, hands on his hips, examining us, and he’s displeased with whatever it is he finds. Of course Namjoon had to leave me since he was no longer a rookie. I didn’t realize I missed his presence until I turned to speak to him and realized he wasn’t there. 

“Soldiers, today you will be practicing the basics of the guard. Stamina,” he focuses his gaze on me too long not to be a coincidence. “And strength.”

We were to run across the field towards a line of sacks, which looked to weigh no less than 30 pounds, and run back with them five times. If I could just make it through the five times, then I can rest, I tell myself. 

“Slowest time owes me 20 laps after drills.” 

Never mind on the rest. 

He starts calling out names to start, and I almost think I get away with it until, “Aldris!” Alright, everyone in line.”

The man to my right glances over at me before a snarl tilts his lips. I’ve already lost in their eyes. That may be true, but I’ll be damned if I don’t go without a fight. 

I copy my opponents’ ready stances, placing my hands on the dirt beside my foot.

“Go!” 

Dirt flies and I squeeze my eyes shut as far as I can and still manage to see. The opponents on either side of me have already grabbed their bags by the time I reach mine. They lift theirs with a huff. 

I try to do the same, except mine appears to be stuck to the ground. Another giant tug sends a spasm in my back. Even with all the stubborn determination I contain, there is no way I’m lifting that. I have to think on my toes. 

With another mighty tug, this time on the sides, I manage to sit the bag upright and drag. I’ve already been lapped by most when I reach the halfway mark. But at least I got it off the ground. 

Far down the line from me, I notice a couple of other guys not being able to lift their bags either.

Well, I guess I won’t be the only one running laps. 

I refuse to be humiliated the way the Prince wants me to feel. There is no other reason he chose me than that. Sure, I could shoot a bow and arrow, but so could all of the King's top men. I’m not special. 

Without a break, we’re directed to a long stretch of land. “You see those posts?” Our Sargent points a few hundred feet away. “Yes, Sargent!” Our crew calls loudly. 

I’m too distracted by measuring the distance that I don’t notice our Sargent until he is standing in front of my face. “What was that, soldier?” 

I realized I had forgotten to answer him. I’m not used to being barked orders at and expected to respond. 

I contemplate what punishment I might receive if I don’t respond. My stubbornness convinces me it is worth it to keep my pride. “Yes, Sargent.” I grit through my teeth. 

“You think you’re going to be treated differently because you’re a girl?”

I feel his spit hit my face, and it takes everything in me to resist wiping my face and step back. Endure, I tell myself. If I can make it through a war without my family and home, I can spit out two measly words. “No, Sargent.”

“If you want to be treated like a girl so badly, I know a few ways these men can do that.” Snickers sound around me, and I will myself to control my temper. No good would come from me standing up for myself. I can’t defend myself from the repercussions that may come. I have to protect myself. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck what any of you have between your legs! Your job is to run to those polls. Slowest time gets bathroom duty.”

“Yes, Sargent.” I grit out along with my fellow trainees. Giving respect to someone who does not deserve it proves to be one of the most unnatural things for me. 

We are not human beings to them. We are just tools, weapons to be sharpened to their liking. Then, we will get used to their liking. 

But, I won’t let it get that far. I just need to find another way to escape. I won’t be here for much longer for them to use. 

Again, my last name is called first. The men to my left and right appear to be in good shape. But, I’ve spent every day of my life running since the war came. I’ve had sleep in an actual bed and a full meal for the first time in years. 

Some of them drop low in stances. Others, like me, just wait. 

“Try not to pass out this time.” The guy beside me comments. I ignore him. 

When the whistle sounds, I propel my body as hard as I can. There are no thoughts as I run. I pay no attention to those around me. My body feels much stronger than it did yesterday. The finish line comes much faster than I anticipated. When I turn around, out of breath, I notice some of the men are still running. Was I that fast? 

“Fuck,” the man beside me who insulted me holds his side. “How did you run that fast?” 

I stand as straight as I can manage, wanting not to look winded, as though that was no big deal for me. When in reality, my heart is pounding loud in my ears. “Maybe because I didn’t waste energy running my mouth.” 

~

It’s sundown by the time I finish running my laps. I may not have been the only one running, but I was the last left. 

If I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well use it to my advantage. I can use the food here to build up my strength, and the exercises to build up my stamina. It’s the thought of my family suffering without me that plagues my thoughts constantly to find another escape route. I will, I have to. 

Staying here will also help me learn the grounds. I can find the best ways to escape.

I convince myself, if only for a few moments during the day, that Taehyung can figure it out. I know he would never let the others starve. He will do something. I just wonder what all that something would involve. 

“You have to run laps rookie?” I don’t bother turning to the teasing voice coming from behind me in the canteen. 

It’s impossible to keep the exhaustion from my face or posture. All I want is to go back to my room and sleep. But, I know I will regret not eating when morning comes. 

I scan the room for Namjoon and find him waving his hand. He’s already made room for me to sit beside him. 

“Beans potatoes, thats all we fucking get. I’ll be glad when we officially become guards so we can eat actual food,” Yoongi complains and Namjoon agrees.

Their complaint falls on deaf ears. The meal looks delicious to me. I eat with fervor, enjoying every last bite. I’m glad I came to eat.

“How did your first day go?” Namjoon asks, and Yoongi looks up at me for an answer.

“Well, I had to run laps, if that answers your question.”

“Don’t worry, Namjoon failed a lot when he first arrived too. He wasn’t very strong.” 

Namjoon throws his friend an incredulous look.

“What? I said ‘was’?”

I almost find it in me to laugh. 

~

I’m putting my tray away when someone calls my last name. I instantly freeze. It’s been so long since I’ve heard someone call my last name, and  every time I’ve heard it today, I think of my father. It only sounds natural for a guard's voice to be calling for him. 

I turn to find a large burly man behind me. He’s already in uniform, his badges indicating he is at one of the highest ranks. 

“You’re Aldris's daughter.” By the grin on his face, I’m hoping that means he was a friend of my father. 

“I am. Did you know him?” 

“Know him?” He scuffs. “He was only one of my closest friends when we were rookies. He helped me through some of the toughest times of my training.” His accent is thick and from up north, the sound reminding me of times past. I remember that voice. “His passing was a tragedy for the whole kingdom. He was the best archer this kingdom had ever seen.”

 A moment of silence befalls us in remembrance. 

“He was always so proud of you and your mother. Wouldn’t shut up about ya’. How is she?” He notices the way my lit up face falls and he registers why. “Ah,” He didn’t have to say any more than that. We both understood.  

It made sense he didn’t know about my mother. Both of my parents passed without knowing that the other had, which I always thought was for the best. I couldn’t imagine a world where one could live without the other. 

“I’m Gadriel by the way,” he holds out his gigantic hand for me to shake. “Listen, if ya ever need a friend here, I know how it can be. It was rough for me and your father starting out, but I can't imagine being a woman here. I still can’t believe the King let ya in.” He shakes his head like it didn’t make sense to him. It doesn’t to me either. “Times are a changin I guess. I hear of other places in the world where only women serve in the army. We’re a long way from that, but maybe you’re the start of something good.” 

Calling my time here good was not something I could accept. He probably thought I wanted to be here, that I was honored. Would it do any good to let them know I was being held prisoner here? Most likely, that would lessen the respect they hold for me. Right now, the only miniscule of respect I get seems to be from “the honor of serving”. If I let them know I had turned this down in favor of getting my hands chopped off, they probably do it themselves… 

It was best to keep it to myself. 

~

I was the first to show up for the run the next morning. Despite how exhausted I felt from the day before, I made myself get up. I even beat the Prince. 

“You’re early, soldier.” The title grates my ears, and I wish so badly to correct him, but I know it would be fruitless.

“I rode into town yesterday,” I’m not sure why he’s talking to me, or where he’s going with that. “I couldn’t find any signs of a job crisis.”

I’m surprised that he even tried, but not surprised that he didn’t find anything. He appears to be quite inept when it comes to helping his people. 

He continues despite my lack of response. “I wanted to find some of those people that you were speaking of. That you said would die without my help. I couldn’t find any of them.” 

My hatred for him burns deeper. He truly is as despicable as I imagined. “That’s because they’re at your front door, which you would know if you bothered to open it.”

“Are you speaking of hearings?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “My father is in charge of hearings, not me.”

I shrug. That isn’t my problem to figure out. 

“Do you know where these people may be living? So that I could find them.”

I don’t like his tone about something I care deeply about, and his question insinuates that he’s trying to find out where I came from, so he can do who-knows-what to them as well. “I shouldn’t have to do your job for you. Did you even try talking to the people?” 

His reaction is enough to give me my answer. Of course, he didn’t bother speaking to the lowly commoners. 

I’m about to call him pathetic when a voice interrupts me. “There you are. When you weren’t in your room this morning, I got worried.” Namjoon jogs up behind me. “Commander.” He bows. I noticed that his soldiers call him commander and not “your highness.” 

“Let’s go to the back,” I tell him, already walking there. 

Namjoon looks between Jungkook and I confused, but follows anyway.

~

“Rookies!” my sergeant yells. “If you want to move up in the ranks, you will have to prove yourselves. After you have proven your strength and stamina, you will be able to move on to combat training with weapons.” 

We stand in front of posts so tall I have to crane my neck to see the top. It almost resembles a child’s swing set; instead of swings, there are five ropes. 

“You will not be able to move on until you complete all sections of the test. After dragging the bags, you will be required to climb to the top of the rope and grab your flag.”

I know enough to know that after this, we will be split into different skills. Some into swords, some into the handling of explosives, and those like me, archery. I can’t wait for this training to be over, and to finally move on to archery. But, that won’t be possible if I can’t pass the strength and endurance tests first. 

“If you fail to retrieve your flag, you fail the test.”

It’s such a simple task, and yet, it will defeat me. I know it.   

The sergeant yells out last names, and I’m grateful not to be first this time. I watch from behind as five men stand in front of their respective ropes. Each one is built already with muscle. 

After the starting call, the five men race to their ropes. All of them make it successfully up the first few feet. Then, some start to fall. To my surprise, the skinniest one on the left is the only one who doesn’t fall the entire time.  The others eventually grab their flags, but not without struggle. 

Clearly, now I understood the purpose for them going first. It was to show that sometimes muscles are just that: show. 

“The lighter people have an advantage because they have less weight to pull.” I overhear a guy beside me say. And gods, I hope that’s true. 

Eventually, I’m called up to a rope. The whistle rings before I’m ready. The man beside me jumps, already a whole body length above me. Quickly, I copy the postures I’d been studying. It seems to be mostly technique. Most of the macho guys tried to climb without their feet. By clasping my feet around the rope, I’m able to propel myself up without relying on my arm strength. 

On the way down, the rope burns the flesh on my palms when I slip. I end up being third place. Not too bad.  

“She cheated! She used her feet.” A man calls, and several others quickly agree with him. 

“That wasn’t in the rules!” I defend myself when the Sergeant begins to march over to me. 

“Sargent,” A man steps forward. The one who made fun of me yesterday. “She did not complete it fairly.” 

I prepare myself to get chewed out by the sergeant. His mouth opens, but he freezes at something behind me.

“She is right. It was not listed in the rules to only use your hands.” I’m not expecting to hear that voice. Whipping around, I spot the Prince observing us a few feet away. How long had he been there? 

Around me, men scramble to bow. I however, do not. If anyone notices, no one says anything. 

“Of course, commander.” My sergeant calls. I hold back my snort. I’d never seen him so docile before. 

“However, it should be clearly stated next time.”

“Yes, commander.” 

I should have known it was too good to be true. How the fuck was I supposed to do this with just my hands? 

The Prince glances at me and I hope my gaze conveys, “Thanks for nothing.”

~

“Are you fucking the Prince? Is that why they let you in?” 

I ignore the voice as always, grabbing a food tray for myself. The man was standing behind me in-line, so it wasn’t like I could get away from him. At least I didn’t have to run any laps today. Though, maybe it wasn’t such a blessing, because the canteen was much more crowded at this time. 

“Or did you come here to get passed around? You didn’t have to join the army for that.”

The events of the past two days have built up rage inside of me, and I’m done ignoring the comments. Consequences be damned. I whip around to the sound of the voice to bite back and find something large blocking me.

“Ya ever say something like that again to ‘er and you’ll find yourself with my sword in ya belly.” 

The one who insulted me is hidden with Gadiel in front of him. I step to the side, and I have to admit, it’s quite satisfying seeing him about piss himself at the sight of Gadiel. “Yes, sir.” He scrambles away from the line, forgetting his food.

He turns back to me with a sigh. “Don’t cha let them talk to ya like that. Once they know they can get away with it, they won’t stop.”

“There’s not much I can do. They’ll just keep on anyway.”

“Use ya words. If that doesn’t work, use the ol’ kick to the groin.”

We get to the end of the line and I stand to talk to him. “Won’t I be punished for fighting another trainee?”

“Nah. The Sargents here will ‘bout let murder happen. They call it nature takin its course. It’s hard to keep young men huddled together from hurting each other.” 

That wasn’t good news for me that he thought it would be. I do not put it past these men to take their insults to a physical level. 

~

After our run, the Prince stands shirtless again, sweat dripping down his form, his hair soaked. It’s so hot I almost wish I could take mine off for some relief. “rookies, each platoon is permitted two days of rest every other week. You're lucky today is one of those days.” Cheers holler out, but the Prince interrupts them. “Don’t get too excited. The training areas will be open. You are encouraged to participate. Voluntary one-on-one combat will begin immediately after this meeting is over to help prepare you for the combat trials. You’re dismissed.”

“I thought one-on-combat wasn’t for rookies?” I ask Namjoon beside me. 

“That’s with swords. This is with bare hands.”

Oh. Somehow swords didn’t seem that bad.  

Namjoon walks beside me back to the castle. “I forgot, you’re supposed to head to the stables after breakfast.” 

The stables. Am I being punished for mouthing off to him yesterday and I have to shovel horse shit? Honestly, I’d take it over one on one combat. 

After eating breakfast and cleaning myself up, I’m not expecting to find the Prince inside the stables saddling a horse. Doesn’t he have stable boys to do that for him? He doesn’t even look up from his ministrations when he asks, “Did you eat?”

For a moment, I mistake his question for the common phrase of endearment. Then I realize he was merely checking because of my running incident. “Yes. And to address your accusation, no I was not starving myself. I simply forgot to eat. I’m not used to having food ready to eat three times a day.”

Finally finished saddling the horse, he glances over at me, looking me up and down. I fight the urge to show how bothered I am by it. Everything about him perturbes me. “Are you training today?”

Should I lie so I don’t have to be around him? As tempting as it is, I’m more curious about what he wants from me. “I didn’t plan on it.”

“You’re dressed in your training clothes.”

I shrug. “I don’t have any other clothes.” 

“Were you taught how to ride?” 

I shake my head. When I was younger, I either walked everywhere or took a carriage. There was no need to learn. 

The horse is patient as he finishes buckling the saddle in place, his tail flitting every now and then. He seems docile enough, but still, the power of such animals scare me. The prince strokes his hand down the horse’s gray head. He has tan speckles and mane. “This is Ranger. He’s been trained around kids, so I thought he’d be alright for you.” 

I think I should be offended, but I’m too distracted by the fact he wants me to ride a horse. Even though I have no experience riding horses, this is my best chance at running away. Is he truly that ignorant that he would let me, a known escapee, on a horse? 

At first, I believed him to be stupid enough to leave his window open twice, and I went in not knowing that it was a trap. He is certainly smarter than I would like to believe.

“And why am I riding Ranger”?” I raise a hesitant hand up to stroke the horse’s nose. He doesn’t have much of a reaction, which is good to me.

“I’m going out to the village today. I want you to accompany me.” 

He wants me to start my duty already? But, I’ve learned nothing. So far all I’ve done is pass out minutes into a run. “I’ve not been properly trained yet.” 

A small smile plays on his lips and I wonder what that’s for. “I know. You’re not serving as my guard.”

That’s when I notice he’s dressed casually with a cape around him. When he pulls the hood up I have to really look to notice it’s the Prince. 

“Why are we going then?”

“I want to speak to people. See if what you say is true. Place your left foot here, and swing around with the other.” 

“Wait,” he looks annoyed at my hesitance, but he moved on too quickly for me. “Are you going to help them?” 

“Maybe. I just want to assess the situation first.”

The maybe is enough for me. I do as he says, holding onto the steer for support.  

Maybe after I help him I can escape. I am curious to see how this will play out. If I have a chance at possibly helping others, I will take it, even if it is with the Prince.

All of my excitement about being free on the horse is shot down when he leads my horse’s reins to his horse, tying them together. So much for running away.