tales of wintersong | s.cb (m) — PREVIEW
summary: when your new husband, changbin, is ripped from you on your wedding night for a quest instead of your bedchamber, you resign to a quiet life as a traitor’s daughter. months later, he returns, only to immediately shut himself into his chambers, lashing out at anyone who dares to enter. amidst encroaching enemies, whispers at court deeming your husband mad, and prophetic nightmares of snow and fire, the king’s council tries a final plan: lock you into your husband’s chambers to discover what is wrong. you enter expecting to die and at last be reunited with your twin brother. instead, you find yourself face to face with glowing eyes similar to those in your dreams. it’s then that you realize: your husband isn’t mad—he’s cursed. maybe more than you are.
pairing: king!changbin x princess!reader
genre: high fantasy, suspense, royalty au, arranged marriage au, angst, forced proximity
word count (teaser): 1.1k
The door to the King’s bedchamber is of solid oak and painted with a stain so dark it now appears almost black. Because of what you are about to do, the metal ring in the center feels almost twice as heavy in your hand. You turn back to Chan—Lord Bang as you know him now. His gaze is steely, and he nods once, urging you.
“The smiths have adjusted the door so that it locks from the outside. Once it closes, my queen, you’re on your own.”
“And it has to be me?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. Chan nods again, pursing his busted lip. A second later, he winces at the action. You take a shaky breath.
“Y-you are his closest friend, my lord.”
Barely, you wish to reply. He senses your doubt and appears to hold back a huff. “You know I have tried, majesty. He has turned everyone away—he has lashed out even at me. If we send you in, we may yet have a chance to learn what is wrong.”
You look down, nails digging into your palm. You know he is right, but also know the real, unspoken truth.
If something happens to you, there is no shortage of noble young women with ambitious noble fathers across the kingdoms. This explanation makes much more sense—makes you so much angrier. And yet, you take a deep breath anyway, squaring your shoulders.
“Of course, my lord.” Your tone is clipped. The silence hangs between you. Lord Bang nods, and trains an expectant gaze on you. He seems nervous—as if he expects you to immediately change your mind. You pause at his expression, and think back to that fateful day all those years ago.
“You look worried. As if I’ll turn back.” He says nothing, and you scoff. Your voice turns ice cold. “Leave me. Unlike you, I don’t turn away from a friend when death comes knocking.”
Chan freezes. His eyes flash with anger, confusion, sadness, and his mouth tries to move, but no sound escapes. A few moments later, he closes his mouth, looks down, and angrily squares his shoulders. He says nothing as he begins down the stairwell. The moment he is gone, your resolve crumbles. Your body slumps against the cold stone wall, heart pounding out of your chest.
You remember the servants’ whispers: The king has gone mad. He screamed bloody murder at that poor maid. He beat that poor servant boy within an inch of his life. The lords are unsure what to do. Lord Bang was barely able to fight him off.
Poor majesty—once she’s in there, he’ll eat her alive.
You sniffle, trying to hold back the sudden angry tears. This wasn’t fair. Granted, things hadn’t really ever been fair, but you’d always known you’d be but a gambling piece in the game of noblemen. You simply hadn’t expected to be bait for your own husband.
Meat, maybe. But never bait.
With a shaky breath, you turned your head towards the door once more. Inside, there was complete silence, which made it even worse.
“If I’m to die,” You mutter to yourself, “Make it quick.”
Your hand grips the handle, freezing cold—just like everything in this awful place. Your grip is tight, as if the metal is a lifeline. It may well be in a few moments when you enter. Your mind wanders to your brother at his oldest. You wondered if this would be the day.
Kims don’t know the meaning of the word “hesitate”, he had told you before he went into that dark room. As you consider his final words to you, you square your shoulders. He wouldn’t have thought twice to go inside.
Everything will be fine. When this is said and done, we’ll take our place in the world, and step into the sun together, alright?
You grip the handle tighter than you’ve ever gripped anything, and push the door open. You are met with total darkness. The door, most likely, was only squeaky on a singular hinge. In the silent, oppressive dark, however, it sounded like a shriek as you closed it. The space was silent, save for the blood roaring in your ears.
Squinting, you bristle as you wait for your eyes to adjust to the dark. The room still feels as spacious as it did on your wedding night. You think of the Changbin that had met you in this space that night—warm, gentle.
I mean not to subdue or subject you, princess. I hope our union can be one of friendship or perhaps even more—whatever you wish to give me, I will take.
Immediately after your mind thinks of the yelling, the sound of clanging metal as you and the council waited outside the door. What had happened? What had he seen?
Throat dry, you take a step forward. You can barely see anything.
Silence. You chew your bottom lip, waiting for a response, a sound, anything. A moment later, you hear the sound of fabric rustling, and you can feel your heart in your throat.
Your eyes dart back and forth, but you can barely make out anything. You may as well be blind. With a chill, it finally hits you: you’ve stepped into a cage, with an unknown creature lurking in its depths.
“Velvet. Soft, white. Pearls, the diadem. Topaz. Not ours, n-not ours.”
The wedding, you realize with a chill. Your hands are shaking. So is your voice when you hoarsely call out, “H-husband?”
A sharp inhale, and Changbin’s whispers turn louder, but no less frenzied. He sounds almost angrier. “Southern usurpers. Burgundy—foreign banners. The golden sun. Not mine, not my own.”
Your eyes brim with tears as fresh fear blooms in your chest. Finally, you can make out the direction from which the sound is coming from. Squinting again, you look at the corner, and make out something hunched over. Rocking back and forth. Your mouth falls open.
You find yourself frozen as the rocking stops, and your husband lifts his head. “Nine moons away, the bear and the sun.”
The tears in your eyes spill over, and you bite back a scream. You’ve never heard these lines spoken out loud before. Never by anyone other than the vision of Seungmin’s dead body, charred, grinning, flames and blood spewing from his lips. “No. no.”
His head turns to face you. Time stands still. When beady, glowing eyes lock with yours, your hand grasps your mouth shut—it’s all you can do to hold back a scream. He’s breathing heavily. “Twin souls torn apart, reunited as one.”
He stands. Chest heaving, you reach for the doorknob. Your eyes don’t leave his. His eyes trail you up and down, and a second later, you see recognition flood into them. You shake your head. His tone drops to a whisper.
A second later, he lunges.
author's note: TA-DAAAA! i hope you liked it! part one should be up by the end of next week, and expect part two sometime in august. pls let me know if you'd like to be tagged. cheers!
taglist: @binniesdimple @iwishihadabettername
