#spring edit

Garden waking up after a mild winter 🌱

“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

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Spring Time

An extract: (The witch’s hour) The flickering of the candlelight is reflected in the window, my eyes travel until I meet my own. Dancing behind me, the Princess hums, and behind her, the soft light of the lanterns paints the windows. In our reflection, her figure appears petite and her dress sways elegantly. The Princess dances on her toes, securing her balance, and then letting it drop when she exhales a breath. When she moves, a cluster of stardust is found in place of her shadow. Spinning on her heel, she slows down her pace, and finally, our eyes meet. Albeit, in our reflection. “Lonely?” she inquires, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Just tired,” I loosen my tie, “Had a lot to drink tonight.” “It’s not polite to lie to a lady,” she can see right through me. “When you find one, remind me not to do it again,” I bite my tongue, but she’s already made her way towards me, warm hands holding onto mine. “We didn’t have time to dance at the ball,” the Princess pulls me to my feet, her tone soft and kind, “I was waiting for you to ask me.” “My sincere apologies, Your Highness,” I can wear my heart on my sleeve when I’m with her, “Ever since I was a little boy, I was told to look out for you.” “You can still do that,” one of her hands is tucked in nicely into mine, the other rests on my shoulder, “And you can do it up close. Right by my side,even.” “Then shall we?” I allow my other hand to land on her waist, and we guide each other through our own ball. Her smiles are powdered with sweetness, reserved for secret viewings. I lead her with a spring in each step, allowing my own fostered flames to travel through my skin and carry her where our hands meet. The silence fills itself but it’s not unwanted, what we have is serene, and the lack of verbal communication is no flaw. She can understand me as perfectly as angels fit in heaven; and with her I can express myself as naturally as winter lakes are thawed by spring’s touch. “Lord Ishida,” the Princess softly calls me, but even the barrier between us isn’t pulling me out of this dream. “Yes,Your Highness?” I force myself to say, padding it out with the affection I hold for her. “Thank you for being by my side,” her hand slips towards my chest, “Thank you for accompanying me.” “The pleasure’s all mine,” I lean forward and lower my head, my lips parted near her crown, “You know I would accompany you to the other end of the world, and safely take you home.” “...then take me home now, Count Ishida.” My eyes widen and I pull back. Holding me in place is the one who looks and sounds like the Princess,but it isn’t her. In place of her dark sapphire gown and mask, this person dons clothing that has been marked with celestial markings and skulls. The fabric and cut are nothing I’ve ever seen on Princess Hikari,but it fits like a glove on her . I frantically look over my shoulder, eyes fleeting to the window. She’s there,reflected in her foreign clothes,but her physique and even her spirit I feel hold an uncanny resemblance to the Princess. But me? I’m not reflected back in the mirror,and the horror starts to twist the core of my being. She takes a step closer, and I stumble back, my hand slipping out of hers. “I said take me home,Count Ishida,” she now pleads, desperation in her eyes. “You’re not the Princess…,” I manage to croak out,and she looks like I’ve betrayed her. “But you’re not.” “Am I not Hikari?” “You’re not the Princess Hikari.” “And are you not Yamato ?” The ghost of that night visits my mind, haunting me. She takes a step back. “I’m sorry, Count Ishida, I shouldn’t have called you-” “No,” I beg, ready to get on my knees, “You can call me that. As many times as you want. Please , say that again.” All this time,her other hand was still resting on my chest, never once dropping. I clutch onto it, hoping it will show me the way. “...Lord Ishida?” I feel like I’ve fallen through the floor over and over again, until I return to this candlelit guestroom with Princess Hikari. “Lord Ishida,” she repeats, reminding me what we are to each other, “What happened?” I squeeze her hand, then return it to her side, patting it. I settle back in my chair, not daring to glance at the window. I release a breath, clawing onto my front as the wine lingers on my breath. “My sincere apologies, Your Highness. I simply had too much to drink and was careless.” Whoever that was, it wasn’t the Princess. Whoever Count Ishida is, he’s not me. I muster up the will to look at her. With all the candles burning under this room and the stars shining outside combined, none could rival her as a beacon of light. “May I sit with you before bed?” We didn’t get much sleep after the hour had passed the witch’s call .

🌸Spring Junhee🌸

In honor of spring.