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ikeu05 · 5 hours ago

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the ballroom scene is meant to do that so I’M GLAD 😊😊😊

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 crawling back to you , busy being yours to fall for somebody new

synopsis in the gilded shadows of the Victorian era, hidden princess, yn and a charming bar boy, jake sim cross paths under impossible stars. what begins with playful banter and secret glances soon spirals into a love neither of them expected—but fate has a cruel sense of timing. when truth unravels and betrayal cuts deep, they are forced apart by forces far bigger than them. years later, a chance encounter reignites everything they buried. But is love still enough, or is it too late?

pairing commoner! jake x secret princess! reader

featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon of enhypen / ness, an oc (me hehe) / cassendra "cassie" knight (23) — the oldest princess / genevieve "jen" knight (18) — the youngest princess

genre forbidden love, secret identities, fluff, angst, forced marriage, victorian themes

word count 23.5k :O

warnings jake gets betrayed, angst towards the end, kissing, nothing too explicit but kinda suggestive, yn is misunderstood as the second daughter, mentions of crying, mentions of cheating in marriage (i do NOT induce cheating!!!), ness has something going on with jungwon hmmm

playlist the lakes — taylor swift. war of hearts — ruelle. kingdom dance — tangled. sign of the times — bridgerton. where is my mind? — the blue notes. happiness is a butterfly — lana del rey. loss of my life — taylor swift. young and beautiful — lana del rey. mystery of love — sufjan stevens. my tears ricochet — taylor swift. i miss you, i'm sorry — gracie abrams. softly — clairo. do i wanna know — hozier.

nessie note hello and gm :3 posting this 5:30am after a WEEK (plus a little) of writing this. i hope y'all like my baby as much as i do. if it's not obvious by now, i LOVVVEEEE me some angst. it's my favourite thing to write about because if i'm not happy, NO ONE SHOULD BE HAHAHHAHA (kidding i love all of y'all everyone please be happy y'all deserve it <3333)

in the heart of the kingdom of decelis, where fog hugged the cobblestone streets and ivy curled up the walls of timeworn manors, there was a legend whispered in every bakery line and under every breath of steam from a blacksmith’s forge.

the royal family had daughters. but no one knew how many, or what they looked like. no portraits hung in the town square. no names were ever announced at royal galas. it was said the king kept them veiled behind silken curtains, safe from the world’s ugliness—or perhaps from its temptations.

still, in the morning haze of the village, a girl walked freely. she wore plain dresses, ones she sometimes patched herself with clumsy stitches. her boots were scuffed, her fingernails always had ink or dust beneath them, and she never introduced herself by anything but a shrug and a crooked smile.

to the children, she was the one who taught them to skip stones across the river. to the older women, she was the girl who helped grind herbs behind the apothecary. to the baker, she was the thief of day-old pastries—and the reason he never bothered locking his side door. but she didn’t belong to them, not really.

no one knew where she returned to when the market stalls packed up. no one knew why she refused to speak of her family. no one knew that beyond the forest edge, behind a wall lined with gold-dusted leaves, stood the royal palace of decelis.

and within it, she was princess yn of the house of ainsley, second daughter of the king, born under a rare moon and hidden just as quickly from the world.

she’d grown up reading books about the world outside her garden gates—about laughter that wasn’t stiff, words that weren’t rehearsed, dances that didn’t need permission. and when she turned sixteen, she started slipping past the guards at night.

what started as curiosity had become a necessity. because out there, beyond her velvet prison, she could breathe. no titles. no etiquette. no expectations. just the feeling of her own limbs belonging to her.

only her maid, her best friend, ness, knew the truth. and though she scolded her every morning yn returned—hair tangled, smelling of smoke and fresh bread—she never told a soul. she had once been in love herself, a long time ago. she understood. but secrets had a way of testing their holders. and hers, so fragile and young, was about to collide with a secret of its own.

and it would all begin on the day the boy from nowhere lost his job.

jake sim didn’t ask for much.

a roof, a stable job, maybe a warm drink that didn’t taste like scorched disappointment. oh, and not being yelled at before noon. that was his one request. and yet, here he was, standing outside the thistle & thorn tavern with his apron balled in one hand and the bitter stench of stale beer in his hair.

“you’re a menace, sim!”

that was the last thing the barkeep had screamed, red-faced, before tossing him out the back door like yesterday’s dishwater. jake scoffed, muttering under his breath as he adjusted his coat. "it was one broken tray. one. and it wasn’t even my fault—who puts a damn chair in the middle of the kitchen door?"

the town of riverfield was already proving to be a disaster. he’d arrived only a fortnight ago, hoping for quiet work and simpler living. but the villagers were nosy, the streets had too many corners, and now he was unemployed before breakfast.

brilliant. he rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to sulk dramatically near the market, as any reasonable man would after being humiliated.

the village square was alive already, warm bread smells wafting from open ovens, flour dust in the air like snow, kids weaving through stalls barefoot, vendors shouting about turnips like they were made of gold. jake shoved his hands in his coat pockets and grumbled. he hated it here.

that’s when it happened. something collided with him. soft but fast. like a bird made of elbows and curses.

“bloody hell—” jake stumbled backward, nearly slipping on an apple someone had abandoned on the cobblestones. he blinked as the impact staggered off him.

it was a girl. or rather, a blur of wool and brown curls and very, very annoyed eyes. she turned around mid-step, clearly prepared to deliver some biting remark—he could see the way her brows lifted, mouth parted, about to spit fire—and then she stopped.

she blinked at him. and he blinked at her. and for a moment, the market noise faded to background fuzz.

jake didn’t know what hit him harder—the unexpected collision or the face staring back at him. she wasn’t the kind of pretty you could explain to someone. not with words. it was something else. something about the way her features didn’t quite sit still—soft and sharp all at once, like light flickering over river stones. there was dirt on her cheek. her coat was too big. she held a half-loaf of bread like it was a newborn child. and she looked at him like he was the one who’d bumped into her.

“watch it,” she muttered, brushing past him.

jake opened his mouth. nothing came out. he turned around to follow her steps, mouth still ajar like a stunned trout. “wait—you ran into me!”

the girl glanced over her shoulder. “and i survived. congratulations to us both.”

he gaped for a second and she was already gone. vanished into the crowd, bread still tucked under her arm like a trophy. jake stared after her, one hand lifted uselessly in the air. his pride? shattered. his job? gone. his brain? possibly leaking out his ears.

jake sim had never believed in fate. but now? now he was convinced it wore muddy boots and a stolen coat and smelled faintly of rosemary. and despite everything—the humiliation, the job loss, the fact that he was probably going to have to beg the bakery for leftover crusts—he was already wondering when he’d see her again.

whoever she was.

the lake behind the chapel ruins wasn’t much—just a quiet stretch of water cradled by willows and old mossy rocks. the kind of place that looked like it had secrets. the kind jake liked.

it had taken him an hour of aimless wandering and ten muttered curses to get there, but now, seated on the bank with his coat off and sleeves rolled to his elbows, he finally felt like he could breathe. no angry barkeeps. no nosy shopkeepers. just the soft slap of water against stone, the occasional chirp of a bird that clearly didn’t give a damn about the complexities of unemployment, and the setting sun casting gold onto the lake like melted coins.

he picked up a flat stone, tested the weight with a flick of his fingers, and threw.

plop. terrible. the next one skipped once. better. the third skipped thrice. by the fifth, he was starting to forget how annoyed he’d been. until—

“you’re terrible at that,” a voice called from behind.

jake turned sharply, squinting against the light. the silhouette stepped into view with an infuriating kind of ease, hands in the pockets of a different coat this time, a mischievous glint in her eyes like she'd been watching longer than she should’ve.

“you.” he blinked, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “bread thief.”

“unemployed flirt.”

jake huffed a laugh. “well. that’s new. usually i get ‘charismatic’, or ‘charmingly unfortunate’. but alright.”

she stepped closer, looking out at the water like she wasn’t impressed. “your form’s all wrong,” she said, crouching beside him. “you’re supposed to flick the wrist. not… lob it like you’re throwing cabbage at a wall.”

jake looked down at her, cocking a brow. “you’ve got strong opinions for someone who bodyslammed me this morning.”

“i was in a hurry.”

“to rob another bakery?”

“to feed a fox, actually.” she smirked, grabbing a stone. “not that you deserve to know.”

he watched her then—really watched her. the way her hair caught the gold of the setting sun, how her lashes cast little fans across her cheekbones, the effortless way she carried herself, like she’d grown up learning to dance between footsteps. there was something undeniably regal about her, even in oversized coats and scuffed boots.

“i’ve got to admit,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, “i didn’t expect to be blessed with your presence again so soon.”

she didn’t look at him. “don’t get used to it.”

jake grinned. “is that a threat? or a promise?”

she sighed audibly, lips twitching. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, watching her skip a perfect four-stone ripple across the lake, “here you are. voluntarily sitting beside an insufferable man.”

“because i felt bad.”

“oh, don’t do that,” jake groaned dramatically. “pity is so unflattering. at least lie and say you missed my face.”

“i missed the way your hair looks like it lost a duel with a broom.”

he touched his hair, mock-offended. “that’s cruel. it’s got character.”

she stood again, brushing dirt off her skirt, already turning to go. “you talk too much.”

jake stood too, following without being asked. “you’ve got the eyes of someone who’s keeping a thousand secrets.”

she didn’t respond.

“and the mouth of someone who’s never going to tell me any of them.”

still, nothing. “also,” he added cheerfully, “a really pretty nose. has anyone ever told you that?”

she glanced at him sideways. “no. and don’t start.” too late.

“i’m starting,” he said, hands in his pockets now, grinning like a fool. “pretty nose. even prettier mouth. your insults are getting prettier too.”

“stop.”

“can’t.”

“seriously—”

“it’s a condition.”

she turned to him then, mid-step, and finally—finally—let herself smile, just the smallest bit. a twitch. a crack in the royal mask he didn’t know she wore. jake saw it. and something fluttered in his chest he didn’t want to admit.

“well,” she said softly. “i suppose the lake wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

the conversation had wandered without agenda—through stories of markets and misfortunes, complaints about loud vendors, exaggerated tales of fish that nearly bit his fingers off, and jake’s ongoing argument with the village baker about the definition of “too toasted.”

she had laughed once. once. jake had pretended not to notice, but the sound had echoed in his chest like church bells. not loud—just long-lasting.

she sat cross-legged beside him, hands buried in the sleeves of that oversized coat, the last rays of the setting sun brushing soft light across her cheek. her gaze wandered toward the lake now and then, but mostly it lingered on the ground, or on her fingers, or the fraying threads at the hem of her coat. like she wasn’t used to holding eye contact. or maybe she just didn’t like letting people in.

and then—just as he’d begun telling her a story about how he nearly set fire to a barstool while trying to impress a girl who said she liked “dangerous men”—she suddenly stiffened. her spine straightened like a pulled bowstring. her head whipped to the west, where the sky had dipped into a dusty indigo.

“…shit,” she whispered, eyes wide.

jake blinked. “wow. harsh review. i thought that story was charming.”

“no,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “no, i didn’t—i lost track of time—”

“what time is it?” he asked, confused, still on the ground.

“i—it’s nearly seven. i’m late. i have to go. i really have to—” she was already backing away, stumbling slightly as she turned on her heel.

“woah, hey, wait—late for what? did the fox schedule a dinner party?”

she didn’t even smirk this time. her face had gone pale, mouth drawn tight. it wasn't just urgency. it was fear. panic, almost.

jake stood quickly, taking a step forward. “at least tell me your name.”

that stopped her. barely. one step from vanishing into the trees, she hesitated—shoulders rising, then falling. she turned her head slightly, just enough for him to see the silhouette of her profile.

“i can’t.”

jake tilted his head. “can’t? or won’t?”

she didn’t answer.

he tried again, softer this time. “okay. then can i tell you mine?” silence.

“jake,” he said anyway. “jake sim.”

and for a moment, she stood completely still. as if memorising it. as if folding the syllables up and tucking them somewhere deep.

then, she ran. not a polite jog. a full sprint into the fading light.

jake stood there, wind catching the edges of his shirt, watching her disappear like the last streak of sunset. he scratched the back of his neck, feeling oddly… cold.

“jake sim,” he said again to himself. then huffed a laugh. “that’s me. just out here... falling for ghosts.”

he looked down at the skipping stones scattered by his boots. she hadn’t given him a name. but she’d left something else behind. something far more dangerous: curiosity. and yet, jake sim had never really been good at minding his own business.

the palace of decelis was beautiful in the kind of way that made your bones ache. all white stone and sprawling staircases, with archways carved into scenes of myth and gold-gilded ceilings that caught fire in the afternoon light. it was the kind of place made for silence and stillness. every footstep echoed too loudly. every whisper risked being overheard. and nothing, absolutely nothing, ever felt truly hers.

especially not the back kitchen corridor she now sprinted through, boots caked in mud, the hem of her dress wet with river water and flecked with grass stains. the air smelled faintly of rosemary and smoke—dinner being prepped somewhere below. her breath caught in her throat as she turned the narrow corner, heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted out. just as she reached for the brass handle of the servants’ pantry door, someone grabbed her by the wrist.

“you’re late.”

yn yelped and whirled around, only to find the familiar face she knew she'd see.

“ness,” she breathed, half a laugh, half a wince.

ness stood there with one eyebrow cocked, arms crossed, and her apron stained with flour. she was effortlessly pretty, even with her hair knotted into a bun and smudges of ash on her cheek. her soft, wheatish skin glowed under the candle sconces, and her big, doe-brown eyes were as expressive as ever—wide with worry and narrowed with judgement at the same time. and those dimples—those damned dimples—made it impossible to take her scolding seriously.

“you said you'd be back by six,” ness hissed, dragging yn inside and quietly shutting the door behind them. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

“just past seven?” yn guessed with a sheepish grin.

ness glared and grabbed a clean cloth, throwing it at her. “try almost half-past. your father asked where you were during the tea sitting. i lied. again.”

“i owe you,” yn muttered, peeling off her coat. “again.”

“you owe me your entire life at this point.”

the servants’ dressing quarters were narrow but hidden behind the massive kitchen halls, where the scent of firewood and cloves clung to every surface. here, everything was quiet. secret. safe.

ness pulled out a fresh dress from the linen shelves and shoved it into yn’s arms. “your sisters are already in the dining hall. you’ve got ten minutes before your absence becomes another point of gossip.”

yn quickly started changing behind the curtain partition. “cassie’s too busy talking about wedding colours to care. and jen will just say i was off with a headache again.”

“you're lucky they cover for you sometimes.”

“not really. no one actually cares where i go. they just don’t want me embarrassing them.”

ness’s gaze softened. she didn’t argue. instead, she helped yn out of her boots, brushing off flecks of grass. “you really shouldn’t run off so often,” she said gently.

“why not? it’s not like anyone notices when i’m here.”

“they do,” ness said softly. “your father does. your mother just… doesn’t like when things slip outside the script.”

yn rolled her eyes. “of course. because heaven forbid i step off the page cassie wrote for me.”

ness gave her a look. “you don’t have to become her. you just have to survive dinner without starting a scandal.”

yn snorted. “not promising anything.”

as ness fastened the buttons at the back of her dress, yn grinned over her shoulder. “speaking of scandal... jungwon’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he?”

ness froze, her fingers lingering on the last button. “he’s just bringing supplies.”

“oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“yn.”

“he flirts like a boy with a crush. you tuck your hair behind your ear when he talks. it’s almost cute.”

ness flushed, swatting her arm. “it’s nothing.”

“liar. i saw him give you his scarf last week when it got chilly.”

“he was just being polite!”

yn smirked. “if that’s what we’re calling flirting now, i’m in trouble.”

ness tried not to smile, but her dimples betrayed her. “hurry,” she said instead, pushing her toward the hall. “go pretend to be respectable.”

the dining room of the castle was a cathedral of etiquette—high-vaulted ceilings, tapestries of long-forgotten wars, and candles floating like stars above an endless mahogany table. the three sisters were seated across from one another, and her parents sat at the head—noble, polished, cold.

cassendra knight, eldest at twenty-three, sat with her back straight, posture perfect, and a diamond pin in her hair. she looked like she had stepped out of a royal portrait. her voice was calm as she discussed seating arrangements and florists with the queen.

genevieve—jen—sat across from her, twirling her fork with all the ease of a youngest child, laughing softly at something the steward had said before dinner.

and yn, slipping into her seat at last, slightly breathless, dress still wrinkled from the rush, felt exactly as she always did. extra. she wasn’t the first. not the bride. not the youngest. not the darling. she was the middle—the blurry one.

"where were you today?" her father's voice rang across the table like a verdict. there it was. the question she always heard. not how are you. not what did you do. just where. always where.

"garden," she lied quickly, unfolding her napkin. "by the orchard."

the queen nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. “your cheeks are flushed.”

“it's warm in the corridor.”

cassie said nothing, but she didn’t need to. she never did. her quiet glances said everything—that yn was unpredictable, that she would never be enough. jen kicked her under the table with a tiny grin. yn smiled back.

that night, dinner passed in silence on her end. she ate without tasting. spoke when spoken to. laughed at the appropriate moments. but her mind was somewhere else. somewhere by the lake. with a boy who knew her only as a girl with muddy boots and a pretty coat. with a name he didn’t know—and a smile he’d already memorised.

it had been an unusually warm morning, and yn was wandering the village again before she could even register her own feet moving. she told herself she needed to clear her head. that it was about getting air. that she was absolutely not looking for someone. someone with a crooked grin and eyes that made everything else around him blur. no, she wasn’t thinking about him at all. except she was. she had tried not to. but last night, as she lay in her canopy bed, drowning under silken sheets and royal silence, all she could hear was his voice.

"jake sim," he'd said. like it was the only name in the world. and of course, like a damn idiot, she hadn’t given him hers. the smarter choice. the safer one. so she had absolutely no business being this disappointed when she rounded the bakery corner and—

“—you.”

she walked straight into a warm chest. again.

“oh my god,” she muttered, stumbling back as familiar hands gently steadied her by the arms. “this is becoming a thing.”

jake looked far too pleased with himself. “you really need to stop bumping into me like this,” he said, eyes glittering in the sunlight. “people are starting to talk.”

she shoved him away. lightly. not convincingly. “are you following me?”

jake raised both hands. “i’ll have you know, i am a man of high moral standing. i was just heading to the well.”

“you live nowhere near the well.”

“…that’s true,” he admitted. “but you live nowhere near the bakery and you were here, so…”

yn narrowed her eyes. “so you were looking for me.”

jake grinned, like he was proud of himself. “i’ve got a mission.”

she crossed her arms. “let me guess. world peace?”

“close,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “figuring out your name.”

yn rolled her eyes and turned to walk again. “you’re wasting your time.”

jake followed with his hands shoved in his pockets. “i don’t think so. it’s like a puzzle. mysterious girl. stolen bread. muddy boots. lies for days. what’s not to obsess over?”

“you sound dangerously unwell.”

he laughed, catching up easily. “you know, last night i was trying to guess. thought maybe it was something sharp. like ravenna.”

she snorted.

“or something delicate. like lily.”

“do i look like a lily to you?”

jake tilted his head. “no. definitely not. you look like trouble.”

she didn’t look at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “that’s not a name.”

“it is now.”

they kept walking, their steps falling into rhythm without them realising. people passed by with baskets and chatter, but it all felt slightly removed—like they were orbiting something entirely their own.

“why does it matter so much?” she asked finally.

jake didn’t answer right away. he looked ahead, toward the river path, lips pursed in thought. “because…” he said eventually, “i don’t want to keep calling you girl who threw insults and skipped stones better than me.”

she huffed a small laugh.

“and because,” he continued more softly, “if i’m going to fall into this story, i’d at least like to know the name of the main character.”

that stopped her. just for a second. she stared at him, expression unreadable. and jake, to his own surprise, didn’t fill the silence with another joke. he just… waited. her voice, when it came, was quieter. but steady. “call me…” she paused. thought. “addy.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “that’s not your real name.”

she smirked. “it’s enough.”

jake grinned, like he’d just been handed a riddle and a key at the same time.

“alright then, addy,” he said, testing it on his tongue. “can i walk you home?”

she hesitated. just a blink. but then she shrugged, starting down the hill again. she wasn’t about to expose where she lived, jesus christ as if. she had a destination by the lake she always lied to say she was from. then when jake walked away she would run away to the palace.

“if you can keep up.”

jake let her walk ahead, then caught up easily, bumping shoulders just slightly. “oh,” he added, like it was an afterthought. “and you’re thinking about me now, aren’t you?”

she didn’t respond. but she was. god, she was.

jake had expected a few things when he ran into her again—mostly sarcasm, some vague insult about his hair, and maybe, if he was lucky, another sideways smile that made his chest ache in a way he didn’t want to examine. what he hadn’t expected was for her to say, after a shared moment of stubborn silence and narrowed eyes, “come on. i’ll show you around.”

just like that. like she hadn’t been dodging every real question he asked. like she wasn’t the most confusing girl he’d ever met. like he didn’t already want to follow her anywhere.

he said nothing at first—just fell into step beside her as they turned down the sun-warmed path leading deeper into riverfield’s winding streets. she walked ahead of him, hands in her coat pockets, chin lifted slightly like she was daring anyone to ask where she belonged. for the first time, jake wondered if maybe she didn’t belong anywhere at all. or maybe she belonged everywhere—depending on who was asking.

their first stop was the bakery, which smelled like honey and cinnamon and exactly the kind of thing jake needed after another night on a lumpy mattress in the tavern’s spare room.

“edric,” she called casually as they stepped inside, “be nice. i brought a friend.”

the man behind the counter—mid-fifties, large belly, ruddy cheeks—looked up from kneading dough and narrowed his eyes. “a friend, huh?”

jake straightened, smiling reflexively. “pleasure—”

“don’t bother charming him,” she muttered under her breath. “he’s immune.”

edric’s eyes raked over jake’s coat, hair, boots. judging. thorough. a dad-level inspection if jake had ever seen one. “is he the one you stole the rye loaf for two days back?” edric asked, voice low.

jake turned. “you stole bread for me?”

she scoffed. “i did not.”

“she did,” edric confirmed, deadpan.

“i was testing its crust,” she insisted.

jake looked very pleased. “you stole bread for me,” he said again, like it was proof of something.

she rolled her eyes, tossing a coin on the counter. “one honey twist, and nothing more for this idiot.”

as they left, jake tore into the bread, humming in delight. “that was the best crime ever committed in my honor.”

next was thalia, the old florist who sat outside her shop surrounded by baskets of wild blooms and herbs. she looked up from arranging violets and clucked her tongue when she saw yn.

“you’re late, darling,” she said, brushing petals from her apron. “i saved the purple ones.”

“i wasn’t coming for flowers today.”

“well, too bad. you’re getting some.” thalia handed her a small bunch of lavender and yn accepted it with mock reluctance, then handed one to jake without explanation.

jake stared at the single stalk in his palm. “are you proposing?”

“i’m keeping your hands busy so you don’t touch anything,” she muttered.

they moved from stall to stall. she introduced him to the apothecary twins, mira and mabel—tiny, quick-witted women who sold everything from cough syrups to potions that allegedly kept suitors away. mira asked jake what his star sign was. mabel offered to brew him something to “stop being annoying.” they passed the old shoemaker, who gifted yn a polished button from his days in the royal guard. the fishmonger who greeted her with, “back for gossip or haddock?” the boy who sold ink and paper, who turned pink when she smiled at him. and jake watched all of it with growing disbelief.

“you know everyone,” he said, finally, when they reached the river bridge and paused to catch their breath.

she shrugged. “i’ve been here a long time.”

“but no one knows your name.”

she didn’t answer that. just leaned over the bridge’s stone railing, watching the ripples below.

jake glanced at her profile—how the light softened the edges of her, how the breeze played with the strands of hair that had come loose. “i like this version of you,” he said quietly. “the one that smiles more.”

she shot him a look. “you say that like you know other versions.”

“i’ve met the one who dodges questions and threatens to drown me in a lake.”

she smirked. “that version has her uses.”

he watched her for a beat longer, then joined her at the railing. their shoulders brushed. neither moved away.

“so,” she said after a moment. “what about you? what’s jake sim doing in riverfield?”

he blew out a breath. “that’s a loaded question.”

“i’m not in a rush.”

he looked at her, the way her eyes stayed focused on the water, not him. like she wanted the truth but didn’t want to press too hard. “my mother’s family is from the coast,” he said finally. “korean sailors. she married into a merchant line. my father’s… well, a mess. still chasing fortunes in ports that don’t want him.”

“i’m sorry.”

jake shook his head. “don’t be. i’m not. just got tired of following his shadow. figured if i had to be broke and aimless, might as well do it somewhere quiet.”

“and here you are. aimless and in excellent company.”

he grinned. “exactly.”

she turned toward him. “and what do you want, jake sim?”

he opened his mouth. closed it. “i’m still figuring that out.”

they stood there for a while longer. then she said, “come on. one more place.”

he followed her to the hill just behind the village, where a hidden orchard bloomed quietly, tucked away from the world. they pushed through ivy and wild roses, and the sunlight poured through the branches like it was spilling secrets just for them.

she pulled herself up onto a low wall and looked out across the trees. jake climbed up beside her.

he watched her more than the view. “did you ever want more?” he asked. “than this?”

she was quiet. then: “i don’t know. i think i just wanted… to be seen. to matter.”

“you do.”

she met his eyes. and for a second, everything in her chest fell silent. he said it so easily. so sincerely. “you’re strange,” she whispered.

jake tilted his head. “and you’re hiding something.”

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

“you can’t prove it.”

“give me time.”

she smiled despite herself.

he grinned like a boy with a secret. “addy,” he said again, deliberately. “i like saying that.”

she lowered her eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“i think i already have.”

and then they sat, quiet again. but not awkward. never awkward. just… full. charged. like the wind might carry them both off if they weren’t careful. by the time they headed back toward the village, the sun had already begun to tip westward, throwing amber light across the fields. jake didn’t want to say goodbye. she didn’t either. so they didn’t.

they lingered by the well. talking about nothing. laughing about the honey twist. jake told a story about nearly falling into a cargo hold. she told one about a goat that chased her through a market when she was fifteen. and all the while, the air between them softened. tightened. pulled.

“same time tomorrow?” jake asked, half-hopeful, half-sure she’d disappear again.

but she just nodded, already turning away. “if you can find me.” and just like that—she was gone. jake stood there, grinning like a fool, lavender stalk still in his hand.

the palace kitchens, though tucked away from the grandeur and polish of the rest of the castle, had their own kind of magic. it was warmer here—always smelling faintly of cinnamon, boiling broth, or fresh herbs drying by the stone window ledges. the hearth crackled even in late spring, and somewhere in the corner, a cat dozed in a basket of cloth scraps, twitching in her sleep. yn liked it here. always had.

the marble halls above were cold and sharp, too clean, too quiet. but here, everything was alive. the clatter of spoons, the thump of knives on chopping boards, the soft gossip passed between maids like sugar cubes—this was the beating heart of the castle. and tucked into the far wooden bench, arms folded on the table, yn sat with her chin in her hand, watching ness devour half a blueberry pie with all the grace of a girl who hadn't eaten in days.

“you’re going to regret that later,” yn muttered, smirking as she reached over for a bite.

“you could have just taken a piece yourself,” ness muttered without looking up.

“i like yours better,” yn replied sweetly, dropping another berry into her mouth. “it tastes like justice. forbidden, juicy justice.”

ness gave her a look but didn’t bother swatting her hand this time. she was too content — cheeks slightly pink from the warmth, sleeves rolled to her elbows, her hair tied in the loose bun she always wore when she wasn’t “on castle time.” a smudge of flour dusted one cheek, and the corners of her mouth were stained purple-blue from the filling.

“i think i like him,” yn said suddenly, eyes fixed on the window across the stone courtyard, watching the flutter of birds and not the way her heart started speeding.

ness paused mid-bite.

yn rushed to explain herself. “not in the way like ‘ohh i have to have him. i have to kiss him,’” she giggled at the thought. “but like, in the way, it’s nice to have someone my age to talk to. you know, apart from you.”

“oh?” ness cocked a brow at her.

yn bit her lip. “it’s stupid. i barely know him. and i haven’t even told him anything real about me.”

“does he know your name yet?”

she gave a small, guilty shrug. “...sort of. i gave him a fake one. i told him it was addy.”

ness raised a brow. “addy?”

“do not judge me, ness. it came out of nowhere.”

“i’m not judging,” ness said, grinning as she stabbed a piece of crust with her fork. “it’s very... you.”

“you’re not helping.”

“well, you’re also not giving me details.”

“that’s because if i do, it’ll feel real. and if it feels real, then it’ll get ruined.”

“or it won’t.”

yn hesitated. then plucked another berry and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “he’s clever. too clever. he’s already suspicious.”

“oh no. someone caught onto the act?”

“no, not the act. me. the real me. i didn’t mean to say so much yesterday, but i… i think i wanted to. and that’s dangerous.”

ness leaned forward, dropping her fork into the empty plate with a soft clink. “or it’s honest. sometimes, it’s scarier being seen than hiding.”

yn glanced at her, heart tugging. “when did you get so wise?”

ness smirked, just as the outer kitchen door creaked open. they both turned toward it — but only one of them froze. jungwon stepped in, his boots soft against the old stone floor, sleeves rolled neatly up his forearms, a light sheen of sweat still on his brow from the walk in. he was carrying two large sacks — one on each shoulder — filled with rice, his blonde hair slightly tousled from the wind.

“ness?” he called out, not seeing yn just yet as she sat tucked against the prep table by the hearth.

ness stood too quickly. “you didn’t have to carry those both at once—”

“they’re not that heavy.”

“you’re sweating.”

“you’re glowing,” he corrected, smiling like an idiot.

yn blinked. her mouth slowly curled into the beginnings of a grin. ness looked like she wanted to fling herself into the oven. “put them near the grain bins,” she mumbled, stepping aside. “i’ll sort them later.”

he did as she said, flexing a little more than necessary. his movements were fluid, casual, but there was something inherently gentle in the way he handled everything, like he didn’t want to make a mess of the space she’d made her own. as he returned, he brushed his hands against his trousers and looked at her again, eyes scanning her face like he was checking for something.

“you look tired. did your back hurt again this morning?” he asked quietly.

ness blinked. “how did—?”

“you always stand with your hand pressed to your side when it does.”

yn’s jaw dropped — silently, dramatically — from her place by the table. ness was flushed now, an actual pink rising from her cheeks to her ears. “i—i’m fine,” she said a little too quickly. “and you don’t have to say things like that—”

“i just worry,” he replied, stepping a bit closer. “you don’t let anyone else worry about you.”

ness’s eyes flicked nervously toward the kitchen entrance. “jungwon—”

“just let me,” he said, soft and honest. “at least once.” and then, very casually, very quietly, like he asked a million times before, he added, “can i have a kiss, darling?”

ness went completely still. her breath caught in her throat. her hand froze halfway through brushing flour from her apron. her eyes darted to the far corner, where she now remembered her royal best friend was very much present.

yn cleared her throat. loudly.

jungwon turned, startled — then horrified. his face lit up in a blaze of red so fast it could’ve set the pie on fire. “princess,” he croaked, eyes wide.

yn raised a hand like she was greeting a bird in a tree. “hi.”

“i—i didn’t see you there, i wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

“oh, no, don’t mind me,” she said sweetly. “i was just over here, eating pie and listening to the single most romantic grain delivery i’ve ever witnessed.”

ness groaned, burying her face in her apron. “i’m going to throw myself into the oven.” jungwon looked like he wanted to follow her in.

“you two are so obvious,” yn teased, grinning now as she slid off the table. “do you know how many times i’ve seen you blush like that from the stables? i thought maybe ness had allergies.”

“your highness—” jungwon tried, face bright red.

“i’m not scolding you,” yn said, chuckling as she dusted her skirt. “if anything, i’m rooting for you. i just think if you're going to confess your undying devotion, maybe do it when i’m not three feet away.”

“i wasn’t confessing—!”

“you asked for a kiss,” ness muttered into her hands.

“bold,” yn commented.

“brave,” ness added.

“embarrassing,” jungwon mumbled, before finally groaning and rubbing the back of his neck. “i’ll just—go.”

“don’t forget your reward,” yn called, grinning.

and as if that hadn’t already flustered him enough, ness stepped up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek. “next week,” she whispered. “don’t be late.”

jungwon looked stunned. like he’d won a duel, a bet, and his own heart back all in one. “i—i won’t.” he turned and left quickly, practically tripping over the doorway. the second the door closed, ness let out a wail and covered her face.

“please,” she muttered. “please drop me into the pie.”

yn walked over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, giggling into her shoulder. “you love him.”

“i don’t—shut up.”

“he loves you too. it’s cute.”

“you’re evil.”

“and you’re soft.”

they laughed together, the kind of laugh that only came from years of friendship and secrets shared in corners like this. and for a moment, the stress of royal life, hidden names, and forbidden affections slipped away. ness turned to look at her finally, her smile gentle now. “so,” she said, picking up her fork again, “tell me more about the boy who makes you lie through your teeth and glow like you're standing next to the oven.”

yn smirked. “only if you tell me what it feels like when he brings you sacks of rice like a love letter.”

they leaned in close, and for a while, they were just two girls again. dreaming, scheming, hearts pounding. in love — just quietly.

the sky had barely settled into its blue when yn made her way into the village. she hadn’t meant to take the longer route, past the bakeries and spice carts, but her feet wandered. they always did when her mind was restless. she hadn’t seen jake in three days. not for lack of thinking about him. every time she caught herself smiling for no reason, every time her fingers played with a loose string on her sleeve, she’d think of the way he said her fake name like it meant something real. addy. whoever she was when she was with him, it felt honest. more than any title, more than any silk dress or ballroom rehearsal her family forced her through.

she was halfway to the well, about to pass the old bookseller’s stall, when she heard something unexpected. laughter. not just any laugh—jake’s. full, loud, a little pitchy-like a giggle. it froze her in her tracks. the sound came from across the square, by the corner where the new grain store had just opened. fresh wood. a proud sign written in both common tongue and hangul. it was the newest addition to the village—a korean-run family business, traditional and practical. most villagers welcomed it with open arms, especially when rice prices dropped overnight.

jake was standing right outside the front doors, animatedly talking to the older man behind the stall—a man yn assumed to be the owner. they were speaking in korean, rapidly, fluently, with that ease people only had when their native tongue curled back into their mouths after weeks of swallowing it. jake’s entire posture had shifted. he wasn’t leaning with arrogance, or slouching with charm. he was alive. eyes lit. gesturing excitedly with his hands. the quiet grin she was used to seeing had been replaced with something bright and genuine. he looked… happy. and for some reason, it made something tight coil inside her chest.

she didn’t realise how long she’d been staring until she caught sight of someone new approaching from behind the store counter. a girl. roughly her age—maybe a bit younger, but not by much. she wore layered robes, embroidered at the collar, sleeves lined with delicate silver threading. her hair was twisted into an elaborate braid that fell down her back, pinned with a piece that sparkled in the sunlight. it was the kind of outfit not even yn, a princess, would dare wear openly in the village. which meant one thing: this girl wasn’t hiding. and she wasn’t shy, either.

the girl slid up beside jake like she’d done it a hundred times before, pressing close, her hand brushing his arm as she handed something to her father. her eyes barely flicked to the pouch of grain. they were focused on jake. she laughed at something he said. touched his shoulder. stood too close. and jake—jake—was laughing back. flirty smile and all. not pulling away. not even noticing her.

yn blinked. her feet didn’t move. why… why wasn’t she moving? she told herself it wasn’t jealousy. it couldn’t be. she didn’t even know what she was doing with jake. they hadn’t even—he didn’t know who she really was. but watching him now, eyes crinkling at the corners, fingers brushing the girl’s sleeve as he handed her a bag of rice—it made her feel small. tight. like someone had grabbed her by the ribs and squeezed. this wasn’t part of the plan. she wasn’t supposed to care.

the girl leaned in and said something in korean—something that made jake laugh again, softer this time, sheepish. like a boy caught red-handed. and that’s when yn’s boots finally started moving. straight toward them. she didn’t even bother schooling her face into pleasantness. she just walked up, head high, back straight, and inserted herself right between them.

jake’s eyes flicked toward her, startled. then lit up. “hey—”

“hi,” yn said, sickly sweet, planting herself beside him.

the girl blinked, taking in yn’s slightly wrinkled coat and messy braid. her eyes dragged down and up slowly, expression cooling by the second. a perfect, practiced scowl hid behind her sugary smile. “and who might you be?” the girl asked, her tone casual, but her eyes anything but.

yn smiled wider. “addy,” she said, voice light. “nice to meet you.”

the girl didn’t offer her name in return. instead, she tilted her head. “never seen you around. are you from here?” before yn could answer, another voice cut in. low. tired. familiar.

“…addy?”

she turned just in time to see jungwon walking up, a stack of burlap sacks on his shoulder, brows furrowed from the weight and the sight in front of him. he stopped short. froze. his tired eyes went wide. “oh no,” yn whispered.

the girl blinked. “you two know each other?”

jungwon opened his mouth, clearly seconds away from saying something he absolutely should not—

“walk with me!” yn blurted, grabbing jungwon by the sleeve and dragging him around the corner of the store before anyone could stop them.

“wait, what—”

“i’ll explain, i swear,” she hissed, breath coming fast. “just—two seconds, please.”

jungwon blinked at her, confused but compliant. they ducked behind the wooden beam of the shop, away from view. he dropped the sack with a thud. “okay,” he said, crossing his arms, all his honorifics for her dropping immediately. “you want to tell me why the hell the princess of decelis is parading around the village using a fake name?”

yn winced. “shhh!”

“you’re lucky i didn’t say anything back there!”

“i know! that’s why i dragged you back here.”

jungwon looked like he wanted to scream. “does ness know?”

“of course ness knows.”

he stared at her, incredulous. “unbelievable.”

“i’m not doing it to stir drama. i just—i needed space. i needed people to see me like me, not as some perfect royal mannequin everyone expects me to be.”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “so let me get this straight. you’ve been sneaking out for months, hiding your name, and now you’re… what? flirting with jake sim?”

she flushed. “i’m not flirting.”

“really? because i walked up and it looked like you were about to maul him.”

“okay, maybe i was a little jealous.”

jungwon stared again.

then groaned. “you’re unbelievable.”

she tugged on his sleeve, desperate. “please don’t say anything. especially not to him.”

jungwon studied her face for a moment. the plea in her eyes. the way she looked more like herself than she ever had inside the castle. then he sighed. “you owe me.”

“forever.”

they returned around the corner, rejoining the other two. the girl—still looking thoroughly annoyed—raised her brows. “oh,” she said. “you’re back. that was quick.”

jungwon clicked his tongue at her. “wonlin, be nice.”

yn smiled. “just a quick hello. jungwon and i go way back.”

jake looked between them. “you do?”

before yn could answer, the girl–wonlin–cut in again. “that’s odd. we just moved here.”

jake turned toward her. “wait, really?”

she nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yn. “just two weeks ago. father opened this branch. we used to live further inland. so unless you know him from somewhere else…” her tone was thick with suspicion now.

jungwon, to his credit, stepped in smoothly. “ah,” he said quickly. “she’s friends with one of our former vendors. we crossed paths a few times. isn’t that right, addy?”

yn nodded vigorously. “exactly. small world.”

wonlin didn’t look convinced. jake seemed puzzled, but shrugged. “well, you’re lucky. jungwon seems great.”

wonlin smiled at jake, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “yea right whatever, i guess he is.”

jungwon, thoroughly done with the whole situation, grabbed another sack and muttered something about deliveries. as he walked off, he whispered to yn, “you seriously owe me.” and she did. but the moment jake turned back to her, smile soft and eyes gentle, she didn’t care. she’d find a way to pay him back later.

the air was softer as they walked—less sunlight, more breeze. the afternoon had begun to dip lazily into early evening, throwing amber and honey-gold across the cobbled streets of riverfield. a few market stalls had closed, and the vendors that remained were half-heartedly waving flies away or watching children race through the alleyways.

yn and jake strolled without purpose now. they’d already seen most of the village, and yet somehow, their feet kept finding new paths. jake kicked a pebble ahead of them, hands stuffed into his pockets. his strides were even, casual. he walked beside her the way one did when they had nowhere else to be and no one else to walk with. it felt… natural. comfortable. but something was off.

it wasn’t his voice—he was still talking, teasing, tossing the occasional flirty remark her way when she made a face or threatened to push him into a well. but something about the energy had changed. just slightly. just enough for her to feel it. “why are you being weird?” she asked finally, after they passed the old lamplighter’s post and he hadn’t said anything in a full thirty seconds.

jake blinked. “weird?”

“you’re quieter than usual.”

he shrugged, then shot her a grin. “maybe i’m just enjoying the scenery.”

she narrowed her eyes. “nice save.”

he bumped her shoulder lightly with his. “maybe i just know better than to keep talking when you’re lost in thought.”

“i’m never lost in thought.”

“you were definitely staring at a squirrel like it had insulted your entire bloodline.”

“i was imagining how i’d kill someone with that pinecone beside it.”

he laughed, genuine, but it faded too quickly again. they turned past the bakery, past the alley behind the mill, into the lesser-traveled part of town where the trees bent a little lower and the ivy grew thicker against cracked stone. she was about to ask again—press just a little further—when he spoke. “so…”

uh-oh. that tone. nothing good ever started with “so…” like that.

“do you think jungwon’s… cool?” he asked, and his voice was way too casual to be actually casual.

yn blinked, caught off-guard. “what?”

jake cleared his throat. “just asking.”

she tilted her head. “cool how?”

jake looked off to the side, like he was studying a particularly fascinating chunk of moss on a wall. “you know. just… cool.”

“…you mean attractive?”

he didn’t answer. which was answer enough. a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “are you jealous?”

jake scoffed, but she didn’t miss the way he rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching slightly. “no.”

“you’re totally jealous.”

“i’m not.”

“you are! oh my god.”

jake groaned, dramatic. “i just asked a question. why does that mean i’m jealous?”

“because you’ve been acting weird ever since we left the shop. and now you’re randomly bringing up jungwon like you’re on trial for something.”

he muttered something in korean under his breath that she didn’t quite catch but sounded very much like ‘stupid handsome stock boy.’ she burst out laughing. jake scowled, cheeks slightly pink. “it’s just—he’s nice. people like him. he’s always there. and you—you called out to him like he was your favorite cousin coming back from war.”

“my favorite cousin?!” she wheezed.

“i panicked!”

“jake,” she said, still laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”

he looked at her, face serious despite the blush creeping up his neck. “so? do you?”

yn paused. then softened. “no,” she said. “i don’t like jungwon. not like that.” he looked relieved, but she wasn’t finished. “he’s in love with my best friend.”

jake blinked. “what?”

“yep. been watching him fall harder every week.”

“but… he didn’t say anything.”

“he doesn’t need to.” she grinned. “it’s so obvious. he looks at her like she hung the moon. and she pretends not to notice, but she totally does.”

jake stared at her for a second, like he was trying to process the image. then he relaxed, finally, shoulders easing back into the posture she was used to. but now she saw it. now she knew. she couldn’t not say something. “you were jealous,” she said again, this time with a victorious glint in her eyes.

jake groaned and covered his face with one hand. “why did i even ask?”

“you blushed, jake.”

“i did not.”

“you did. like, full color change. red cheeks. heatwave.”

“i loathe you.”

“no, you don’t.”

he shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying this far too much. and then his cheeks flushed again.

“you’re cute when you’re flustered,” she added.

jake sim never blushed. not when he had his first kiss at eight years old with the girl who lived next door to his family’s old stone cottage. she’d pushed him into a patch of dandelions behind the baker’s shed, told him to close his eyes, and then kissed him square on the mouth before promptly running off, leaving him stunned and grass-stained. he’d gone home whistling. didn’t even tell his older brother because he didn’t want to share the victory.

not when he got caught sneaking into the pub cellar at fourteen, red-handed with a stolen bottle of plum wine and a bag of stolen sausages in his satchel. the innkeeper’s wife had laughed until she cried while jake stood there shrugging, entirely unbothered.

not even when, at seventeen, he’d taken a drunken dare to swim across the lake fully bare—and came up at the other end only to realize a group of visiting merchants (and their daughters) had arrived early for the midsummer fair and were all watching. he’d sauntered out of the water with nothing but damp pride and a wink. people still brought it up years later.

jake sim did not blush. it simply wasn’t in his nature. he flirted too easily, laughed too loudly, and recovered from embarrassment with the smoothness of a boy who learned young how to make people like him. how to make himself untouchable. he had a charm like armor—carefully worn, perfectly deflecting.

but now? now, standing on the edge of the village’s quieter road, the sun dappled through trees and birds half-singing their evening lullabies, he felt it. that tell-tale sting. a creeping warmth rising in his neck. the flush crawling up the back of his ears like an ambush. all because of her.

yn was looking at him with that impossibly smug, satisfied expression. the kind of look people wore when they found out a secret you didn’t even know you were keeping. and he was just standing there, like an idiot, caught red-cheeked in a moment he hadn’t prepared for. “you blushed,” she said again, voice a half-laugh, half-whisper of disbelief. “and now you're blushing again.”

jake swallowed, very aware of how warm his collar suddenly felt. “no, i didn’t.”

“yes, you did.” she stepped closer, eyes narrowing with faux curiosity. “oh my god. that was a real blush. that was actually pink on your face. i’ve never seen it before.”

“i’m sunburnt,” he tried weakly.

“you are not,” she said, too quickly, delighted now. “you’re flushed. oh my god. did i just witness history?”

“could you stop looking at me like i’m a fish that just learned to walk?”

“no. because jake sim—the most annoyingly smug, unfazed boy to ever exist—just blushed. over me.”

jake groaned and turned, walking a few steps ahead like it would help. it didn’t. the grin on her face was practically tattooed into his brain now.

“i’m never going to hear the end of this, am i?”

“oh, never,” she said, jogging to catch up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement.

and the worst part? he didn’t even mind. jake rubbed the back of his neck, willing the heat to dissipate. it didn’t. she kept walking, spinning a piece of thread around her finger absently, her steps light against the cobbled path. the light caught on her lashes, made her eyes seem brighter somehow, and the breeze tugged loose a few strands of hair that curled around her cheek. she wasn’t even doing anything special. and he still felt like gravity had tilted toward her.

when had that started? was it the first time she rolled her eyes at him, arms crossed but mouth twitching? or maybe when she shoved a honey twist into his hand and acted like it didn’t mean anything? or when she called his name across the river, barefoot and breathless, like she knew he’d look? jake didn’t know. all he knew was—he was falling. and fast. faster than he meant to. faster than he ever had.

he snuck a glance at her now, walking beside him like the village had always belonged to her. as if her bare feet knew every stone in the path, every branch that swayed, every wind that came through the orchard trees. she hummed something under her breath—probably one of those old tunes people sang in kitchens while shelling peas. jake had never liked quiet so much.

“you know…” he said slowly, casually, trying to ground himself in words, “if you keep bringing up the blush thing, i will find a way to make you pay.”

she raised a brow. “ooh. scary.”

he grinned. “i’m resourceful.”

“try me.”

jake tilted his head. “you ever been dumped in a haystack?”

she gasped. “you wouldn’t.”

he shrugged, stepping slightly behind her. “guess we’ll find out.” before she could retaliate, he grabbed her wrist gently and twirled her around once, just because he could. her laughter bubbled up mid-spin, bright and surprised, and when she landed in place again, their steps fell into rhythm without even thinking.

yn looked at him then—really looked—and for a split second, she thought: this is what it’s supposed to feel like. not staged, not planned, not royal duties or polite smiles at banquets. just… her. him. this road. this ridiculous moment. she didn’t say any of it aloud. but it sat in her chest like a second heartbeat.

“i didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he said, breaking the silence after a while, her voice quieter now.

yn raised a shoulder. “i’m not.” he looked at her knowingly. “i’m not!” she said again, laughing despite herself. “just didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

“she looked at you.”

“well, maybe i didn’t like that either.”

he laughed again. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are.”

“i must be bored.” jake bumped his shoulder into hers gently. “admit it. you like me.”

she turned toward him. “maybe.” he blinked. that was… not the teasing tone he expected. “maybe?” he echoed.

“maybe,” she said again, and her smile was soft this time. not mischievous. just real.

jake felt his heart clench and swell all at once. yeah. he was falling. and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

yn would remember it for the rest of her life.

the smell of rain on warm stones. the sound of it crashing against the wooden awning above them, rhythmic and relentless. the way jake’s arm brushed hers as they huddled close beneath the shallow overhang of the cottage roof, the sky split open in angry grays and soaked gold.

one minute they were giggling by clearing, the next they were scurrying around in what started as a drizzle—light, playful, teasing as they made their way back from the orchard path, laughing about something ridiculous jake had said about a goose with a limp. but within minutes, the clouds had rolled in like an avalanche and the heavens cracked. and now they were soaked. drenched, more like—her flyaway hair sticking to her forehead, the hem of her skirt heavy with water, and jake’s shirt clinging to his frame like a second skin.

they had ducked under the nearest shelter without a word, their breaths coming hard with laughter and surprise. and then… then the silence began. not the awkward kind. not even the kind you feel the need to break. the kind that simmers. that makes the world hold its breath with you.

rain poured just inches away from their boots, puddles rippling under the flickering glow of a single lantern hanging beside the cottage door. they were standing too close. she knew it. she could feel the heat of him even in the cold.

her head rolled sideways, eyes shifting to his side profile. his eyes were closed, raindrops sliding down his long nose. his slightly tanned skin was glistening and wet. he was still panting, the ran over from the clearing having happened so suddenly. she gulped unintentionally. eyes raking his features shamelessly, satisfying her sight and heart.

jake turned toward her, one shoulder leaning lazily against the wall, his damp curls pressed to his forehead. a droplet trailed down the line of his neck, disappearing into the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt. he caught her staring and smirked. “what?” he said, voice soft, low—dangerously playful. “never seen a man get soaked before?”

“you look like a wet dog,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

“and yet,” he drawled, “you’re still looking.”

she scoffed, turning slightly away, but he leaned closer. there was a hum in the air now. like tension tightening a string, plucked just once and still vibrating.

“admit it,” he murmured. “you like the view.”

she dared a glance at him. his eyes were darker in this light, pupils blown, hair curling at his temples, lips parted just slightly as he looked at her—not with mischief now. with intent. “you’re impossible,” she whispered.

“and yet…” he echoed.

her breath hitched as his hand came up—not touching her, not quite. just brushing the damp strands of hair off her cheek, fingers grazing her skin like a question. his hand lingered. god, it lingered. she could feel her pulse thudding under her jaw. jake’s eyes dropped to her lips. the space between them collapsed. their shoulders brushed. his thumb swept lightly along her cheekbone, anchoring her there, pinning her to the moment.

she swore the world had gone completely still. except her. she was trembling. not with fear. with want. she felt it in her stomach, her chest, her knees. felt it in the way he leaned in just a bit more, his nose almost grazing hers, his breath fanning across her lips as his other hand settled against the beam behind her, caging her in. and for a second—just one second—she knew he was going to kiss her.

he wasn’t teasing anymore. this wasn’t a joke. this was the moment. the one she’d been dreading and craving all at once. she tilted her chin up. just a little. jake leaned in. closer. closer—

“did you hear?” a voice said from the road, muffled by rain and distance but still loud enough to cut like glass through the haze. a man’s voice. excited. “her highness is throwing a ball! for the princesses, they said. it’s next week!”

yn froze. every muscle in her body turned to stone. the air between her and jake shattered like ice.

“…a ball?” came a second voice, a woman’s this time, her tone hushed and awed. “for all three of them? they’ve never even shown their faces—”

she stepped back. jake’s brow furrowed, lips still parted. “what’s wrong?” but she wasn’t listening. a ball? what ball? this was the first she was hearing of it. and it was her palace throwing it. her father. her mother. her sisters. cassie. jen. how—how hadn’t she known? her throat tightened. “i—” she stammered. “i have to go.”

jake blinked. “wait, what?”

she was already moving, stepping out into the rain, the water hitting her skin like needles. she stumbled into it like a fever, her heart pounding with panic and confusion and something dangerously close to guilt.

“addy!” jake’s voice cut through the rain, sharp and full of confusion. rain smacked his face like a thousand icy needles.

she was already halfway across the muddy lane, her braid a dark streak against her back, skirt twisting around her knees as she pushed forward, feet stumbling slightly in the flood-soaked street. she didn’t stop. not the first time he called her. not the second. not even the third, when his voice cracked slightly—caught between disbelief and desperation. she just… ran. she didn’t even glance back.

“are you serious—?” he muttered, more to himself than anything. jake stood frozen for half a breath. his hand still hung where her wrist had been. the warmth of her skin had already vanished, leaving behind nothing but cold rain and a burn he couldn’t name. and then he took off after her, boots splashing hard through puddles, his shirt sticking to his back like glue, hair plastered to his forehead. he wasn’t even thinking now—just moving. because whatever had just happened, whatever had made her flee like that, he couldn’t let it end this way. “addy!” he tried again, voice sharp and desperate now. “what’s going on?!”

she reached the edge of the orchard path before he caught her. jake’s hand closed gently but firmly around her wrist, spinning her halfway around. she stumbled, startled, nearly falling into him from the force of the stop. they both stood there—soaked, breathing hard, staring at each other like strangers suddenly aware of how much they didn’t know. his lungs burned. his shirt was plastered to him, heavy and dripping, curls stuck to his forehead. water ran into his eyes, into his mouth. but he ran. because something was wrong. her breath came in harsh, panicked gasps, and she wouldn’t look at him.

“addy,” he said again, softer now, barely audible over the rain hammering down on the rooftops above them. “what the hell just happened?”

she didn’t speak. jake blinked, heart racing. “we were… we were fine. we were more than fine. you were about to— i was going to—” he stopped himself, jaw clenching. “and then you just—ran.”

her lips parted, and for a second, he thought she’d finally say something. but she didn’t.

“i mean—was it me? did i do something? say something wrong?”

“no—” she finally gasped, shaking her head. “it’s not you.” she turned away, and he stepped in front of her.

“then what?” he asked, stepping closer. “because five seconds ago i was about to kiss you and i swear to god, i thought you wanted that too.”

her lips parted, but no sound came out.

jake searched her face—her trembling mouth, the way her hands curled at her sides, the flicker of something in her eyes that looked too much like panic. “i wanted to,” he said, voice hoarse now, rainwater sliding down his temple. “hell, i still do.”

her breath caught. he took one more step. they were inches apart now. close enough to feel the heat of her, even through the cold. close enough for the air between them to thrum again with that unbearable, beautiful ache.

“i don’t care what your name is,” he said, softer now. “or what you’re hiding. you drive me insane half the time and i still… i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.”

her throat bobbed with a swallow. she looked up at him—so vulnerable, so present, like she was seconds away from falling into him again. but then— her face crumpled. “i can’t.”

jake froze.

“i just—can’t,” she whispered again, voice cracking like thunder behind her words.

he stood there, stunned, the weight of her rejection hitting heavier than the rain. “why?”

she shook her head, eyes glistening, her hand slowly slipping from his grip. “i’m sorry.”

“addy—” but she was already pulling away. and this time, he didn’t follow. he watched her vanish down the orchard path, a fading silhouette swallowed by mist and leaves and storm. his hand was still outstretched where hers had been. jake sim had been stood up before. he’d been kissed and forgotten, laughed off, passed over, turned down—none of it ever stuck. none of it had ever mattered. but this? this left a hollow behind his ribs so loud he couldn’t hear the rain anymore. he stood there in the silence she left behind, the storm still raging around him. and for the first time in his life, he wished he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her.

the rain was still coming down hard when yn pushed open the back kitchen door, breath heaving, hair soaked, her chest a mess of panic and guilt and something dangerously close to heartbreak. she stumbled inside, boots squelching, water pooling beneath her step. the castle kitchen, warm and dimly lit, smelled of rosemary and yeast. the air was thick with steam and the faint scent of woodsmoke—comforting, familiar. but nothing about her felt comforted.

she stood there, soaked to the bone, the door swinging shut behind her with a dull thud. her lungs still fought for air, but it wasn’t from the sprint through the rain anymore. her heart thudded like a drum inside her ribs, uneven and panicked. her hands shook as she brushed wet hair from her face. “ness—” her voice cracked before she could finish.

there was a rustle, a startled shift, and two heads popped up from the corner behind the flour racks near the hearth. ness and jungwon. curled up together, arms tangled and hair damp. jungwon’s coat was wrapped partly around her shoulders, and ness’s face was flushed, mouth slightly parted, eyes wide with surprise. her hands were still resting gently on his chest. his were on her waist. they had clearly been in the middle of something intimate—a kiss, or maybe the seconds right after one. their closeness was obvious. the tender atmosphere still hung in the air, soft and golden, thick with the kind of warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. on any other day, yn would have screamed. she would’ve laughed and thrown her arms around ness, shrieked something ridiculous like “finally!” and shoved jungwon teasingly for taking so damn long. she’d been waiting for this—for them—to admit what had been dancing between them for months.

but right now? she couldn’t even smile. because her heart was breaking.

ness blinked, pulling away from jungwon slightly as her eyes landed on yn’s soaked, trembling figure. “princess—? are you—?”

“did you know about the ball?” yn cut in, voice sharp with urgency, pain laced beneath it.

both of them froze. ness sat up straighter, glancing at jungwon briefly before rising to her feet. “i— i thought you knew,” she said cautiously, brushing her dress straight. “your father announced it this morning.”

yn stared at her, chest tightening. “you thought i knew?”

“i just assumed—”

“you assumed i would know about a ball thrown by my own family?”

ness stepped forward quickly, reaching for her. “yn—”

she pulled back, stumbling into a chair at the long wooden prep table and dropping into it like her legs had given up. her soaked dress made a sickening squish against the seat. she didn’t care. her hands rose to her face, fingers threading through her wet hair, elbows braced on the table’s edge. everything was spinning. her lungs refused to fill properly. her eyes burned. her head pounded with too many thoughts—of the rain, the roof, the closeness of jake’s mouth to hers. his voice. "i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.” and she’d left him. without an answer. without an explanation. without a damn thing.

ness crouched beside her, voice softening immediately. “yn… i didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“i ran,” she whispered. “i just… ran.”

“from who?”

yn didn’t answer. but ness knew. her hand found yn’s wrist gently, thumb rubbing comfort into her damp skin. “jake?” yn nodded once, then let her head drop forward, her soaked hair falling like a curtain around her face. jungwon stepped closer but stayed quiet, respectfully distant.

“i didn’t tell him, ness. i didn’t tell him anything. and he was about to kiss me, and i wanted it—i wanted it so badly and then…” her voice broke, the memory hitting her like a punch to the chest. “then i heard them talk about the ball. and i panicked. i just left.”

ness’s face twisted with sympathy. “oh, sweetheart…”

“he must think i’m insane,” yn said, choking on a laugh. “or cruel. or lying.”

“you’re not.”

“but i am, ness!” she hissed, sitting upright, voice raw. “i let him believe i was someone else. i let him flirt and fall and care—and now what? what happens when he finds out i’m not addy, i’m not some girl in the village? i’m a princess.” the word tasted bitter in her mouth.

jungwon finally spoke, quiet but firm. “jake��s not stupid.”

“no,” she agreed. “but he doesn’t deserve this. not the lies. not the mess. not me.”

“don’t say that,” ness said instantly, reaching for her again.

but yn shook her head. “i’m not like cassie. i don’t glide through rooms in silk with perfect words and a throne waiting for me. i’m not like jen—bright-eyed and brilliant and loved by everyone she meets. i’m the one who hides. who sneaks out. who disappears for hours because no one even notices she’s gone.” her voice cracked again, softer now. “and jake noticed me,” she whispered. “and i left him.”

ness was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding hers.

then slowly said. “you’re allowed to be scared. you’re allowed to not have all the answers right now.”

“but i hurt him.”

“then fix it.”

yn looked up. “tell him the truth,” ness said, eyes fierce now. “he deserves that. you both do.”

“i’m terrified,” she admitted.

“that’s how you know it’s real,” jungwon said from the corner. his voice was calm, sure. “the good things… they scare you before they save you.” yn stared at him for a long moment. then, finally—finally—she let herself cry. just a few tears. quiet ones. and ness held her hand through all of them. the ball was coming. the world she had carefully separated from jake was about to collide with him. with her. and whether she liked it or not… he would know. all of it. and she had no idea if he'd still want to kiss her once he did.

by the time yn reached her chambers, her dress was dry only in patches—along the edges where the fire-warmed halls had kissed away the rain—and her bones ached with exhaustion she didn’t know how to carry anymore.

she opened her door without thought, letting it creak softly into the silence. and paused. jen was there. her younger sister stood near the bed, arms crossed over the back of one of the velvet chairs, her chin resting atop them in a posture of almost-bored suspicion. the soft auburn curls she always wore half-up were slightly damp, as if she too had been out for a while. she was frowning. her eyes narrowed. “finally,” jen said slowly. “you took forever.”

yn blinked. “what are you doing here?”

jen didn’t answer right away. instead, she tilted her head with all the audacity only an eighteen-year-old princess could carry. “you look like someone shoved you into the lake.”

“i feel worse.”

“where were you?”

“not now, jen,” yn muttered, shutting the door behind her as gently as she could.

“i checked the west gardens,” jen continued. “the chapel, the music room, even that stupid little reading nook you think no one knows about. you weren’t in any of them.”

“i wasn’t hiding.”

“then where were you?”

yn sighed, stepping toward the fireplace to peel off her damp outer robe. her fingers fumbled at the ties. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

jen paused, sensing the fatigue. “yn…” yn looked at herself in the mirror—raindrops still dripping from the tips of her hair, her eyes rimmed in something close to grief. she took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “with jake,” she said, finally. quietly. honestly.

jen’s eyes lit up. “jake?!” yn could’ve laughed at her sister’s instant transformation—eyes wide, mouth parting with excitement, body bouncing upright in glee. “oh my god—the boy you’ve been sneaking off to see?!”

yn let her head drop back against the mirror. “jen—” turning slightly, she met her sister’s wide, delighted eyes.

“it was him, wasn’t it? oh my god, you’re in love with him!” jen was already halfway across the room, spinning like she’d just heard the best secret of the century. “who is he really? what does he do? how does he talk? does he kiss like the poetry books say? was there touching? are you going to run away with him?! tell me everything, right now.”

despite herself, a sliver of a smile tugged at yn’s lips—just a twitch. a flicker of the old warmth that used to exist between them, before everything royal and wretched got in the way. but the smile never quite made it. it fell too fast. jen saw it. her excitement faltered. “…what happened?” she asked quietly, stepping forward again, more gently this time. “did he do something?”

yn shook her head. “then what?” jen's voice was softer now. yn took a breath. “there’s going to be a ball,” she murmured. “for the princesses. the whole kingdom knows. apparently.” there was a beat of silence.

“you didn’t know?” jen asked, brows furrowing. “but i thought—father said he sent out word to all of us two days ago.”

“no one told me.” yn looked down, her voice barely audible. “not father. not cassie. not you. not a single soul thought to mention it to me.”

“i thought ness would’ve—”

“i only found out because i overheard villagers talking about it.” her hands trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms. “right as jake was about to kiss me.”

jen’s lips parted in surprise. “oh…” yn turned toward the fireplace again, wrapping her arms around herself. the warmth from earlier—the memory of him, of that roof, of that moment—was tainted now. ashy and sick in her chest. jen shifted nervously, then whispered, “it’s not just a ball, you know…” yn stilled. “what?”

jen rushed to explain, “i only overheard a few things! i wasn’t told directly or anything—just… in the corridors, you know? something about alliances and signatures and a royal visit—”

“who?” yn whispered.

jen blinked. “what?”

“who am i supposed to be engaged to?”

jen’s lips pursed like she was trying not to say it, as if saying it aloud might make it worse. “…park sunghoon,” she finally muttered. “from the eastern territory. the coastal kingdom.”

the room went deathly still. jen looked alarmed now, sitting upright, her voice wobbling with guilt. “i thought you knew! i—i assumed you had been part of the planning. cassie said something earlier about—yn?” but yn wasn’t listening.

“when were they going to tell me?”

“i don’t know. i didn’t think—”

“of course you didn’t,” yn snapped, her voice sharp as glass. “because you’ve always known what’s going on. you’ve always been part of the circle. but me?” her laugh was bitter now. “i’m just the invisible one. the middle one. the one no one bothers to ask.”

jen flinched at her tone, guilt flashing across her features. “yn, i didn’t mean—”

“an engagement?” yn repeated, stunned. “they expect me to walk into that room next week and be given away like livestock? to someone i’ve never met?”

jen looked down. “i thought you knew…”

tears stung yn’s eyes, hot and angry. all those times she wandered the village. all the sunsets she spent laughing with jake. all those stolen moments. her secret world. her life. all of it had been a fragile, borrowed fantasy. and now it was cracking. “what about jake now?” she whispered. jen looked up, confused. but yn was already sinking onto her bed, her hands trembling in her lap. “what do i do?” she whispered. “what the hell do i do now?”

jen stood frozen, arms crossed, unsure of whether to leave or stay. the room, usually so calm and filled with candlelight and books and memories, now felt like a prison. a cage about to close.

yn felt the weight of everything: the lie, the almost-kiss, the unspoken feelings and her impending engagement to a stranger. she felt it all settle like a stone in her chest. and all she could think was: he’s never going to look at me the same way again. “engaged,” she whispered bitterly under her breath. “to someone i’ve never even met.” she wanted to scream. or throw something. or cry again—but she had done enough of that tonight.

across the room, jen sat cross-legged on her bed, still dressed in her sleep gown, brows furrowed as she watched her sister quietly unravel. yn didn’t even notice her stand. didn’t hear the whisper of silk as jen padded across the thick rug toward her. she was too deep in her thoughts—jake’s voice still haunting her like an echo: “i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.” god, why had he said that? why had he meant it? and why had she wanted to let him?

“let’s go,” jen said suddenly, sharp enough to cut through the storm in yn’s chest.

yn blinked, turning around. “what?”

“to see him,” jen replied, as if it were obvious. “jake.”

yn gawked at her. “are you insane?”

jen shrugged, casually. “probably. but i’ve seen you spiral before and i’ve never seen you like this.”

“i’m not spiraling,” yn lied.

“you’re pacing like a lunatic. you look like you’ve been struck by lightning. and honestly, if someone told me earlier today that my sister—the invisible one, the one who disappears to the village every other day—was actually out here catching feelings? i’d have laughed.”

yn scowled. “you’re not helping.”

jen stepped closer, her voice softer now. “but i am. you’re hurting. i can see it.” yn didn’t respond. “you like him,” jen added, smiling faintly. “even if you’re being stubborn about it.”

“it doesn’t matter now. i’m—” she stopped, voice faltering. “i’m being promised to someone else. someone i’ve never met. someone who probably sees me as some diplomatic pawn in his father’s kingdom strategy.”

jen frowned. “and you’re just going to… let that happen?” “do i have a choice?”

jen was quiet. and then: “maybe not. but you do have a chance to say goodbye.” yn’s eyes met hers. jen tilted her head, voice earnest. “you can’t change the ball. or what they’ve planned. but you can tell him the truth. or lie. whatever you need to do to breathe again.”

“i can’t tell him the truth. not now.”

“then lie,” jen said, simply. “but don’t let him go thinking he meant nothing.” that settled in yn’s chest like a stone. jake. his smile. the way he looked at her under the rain. the way he waited, the way he believed her—believed in her—even when he didn’t have to. no one had looked at her like that in a very long time.

she swallowed. jen nudged her. “come on. get dressed.” “i am dressed.” jen raised a brow. “not like that. you’re still too… princess-y. he’ll smell royalty on you.” yn let out a huff of air, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “you’re impossible.” “and you’re wasting time.”

they crept down the east staircase, past the quiet wing where the staff quarters rested. the rain had stopped sometime around midnight, leaving the castle grounds coated in a slick sheen of mist and petrichor. lanterns flickered weakly in the distance. the scent of wet earth clung to the air. they had cloaks on now, hoods pulled over their heads, boots tight to their ankles. lamps clutched in hand, the two sisters kept to the side paths, ducking through hedges and along the stone wall behind the garden where the old vines grew thick. the world felt like it was holding its breath.

yn’s chest ached. she kept her eyes ahead, her feet moving forward though her body screamed to stop. jen’s words echoed in her ears: “you don’t have to tell him the truth. but don’t leave without saying something.” she didn’t know what she’d say, not really. maybe: “i’m sorry i messed with your head. i never should’ve let it go this far.” or: “forget me. i’m moving away.” it was easier to be cruel. to lie. to be forgettable. it was safer. because the truth was ugly and messy and filled with too many what-ifs. and if he knew—if he knew who she was, what she was bound to—she didn’t know if he’d forgive her. so she’d lie. just once. let him think she was some girl who came and went. a blip. a beautiful mistake. her throat burned at the thought.

they reached the village by the time the moon had slipped out from behind the clouds. its light stretched long over the cobblestones and shingled roofs, casting faint glows against puddles and windowpanes. a quiet hush blanketed the street. most lamps were out. the baker’s shop was long closed. a dog barked somewhere far off. and there—just ahead—was the small cottage tucked behind the bar. the one he sometimes mentioned working near. the one ness had once described as “the crooked-roof one with the green vines out front.”

yn’s steps slowed. her fingers tightened around the handle of her lantern. her heart… thundered. this was it. she had practiced the speech at least twenty times in her head. “i’m sorry for wasting your time.” “i shouldn’t have let it go on this long.” “i’m leaving the village soon, so you won’t see me again.” simple. clean. like surgery. sharp, neat cuts that would bleed later but not in front of him. that was the plan. she would say her piece, maybe offer a hug if he looked particularly hurt, and walk away without looking back. easy. except—nothing about jake sim had ever been easy.

and when the door opened, and she saw his face again for the first time since she ran away from him in the rain, everything fell apart. his hair was still slightly damp, curling at the ends. he was wearing a plain linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar loose—he looked like he hadn’t slept much. his eyes were tired and guarded, rimmed with something like confusion… or maybe disappointment. and beneath all that, his expression cracked with the faintest, most visible shock at seeing her. and god, he looked sad. not angry. not cold. not mad the way he should have been. just… sad. like she’d taken something from him when she left. her lungs seized. the speech was gone. all of it. vanished like breath in winter.

jen peeked out from behind her, wide-eyed and grinning, oblivious to the thick tension cutting through the doorway. “hi!” she said brightly, completely ignoring the tension in the air. “i’m... aria. her cousin. visiting.”

jake blinked, his eyes flicking to jen. his smile, if you could call it that, was brief and tight. “jake,” he said shortly, polite but distracted. his voice was hoarse. then he looked back at yn. right into her. and the sound of her own heartbeat was so loud she was sure he could hear it too.

yn’s chest hurt. “i—” she started, and then stopped, because what was the point of the speech now? her script had drowned in the puddle at her feet the moment she saw his face. the sadness there. the softness. the hope he tried to smother in case it hurt too much. “i love you.” the words tumbled out of her mouth like a secret that had waited too long to be free.

jake’s lips parted, his brows shooting up so fast she saw the flicker of panic and surprise in his eyes before they even registered in his body. behind her, jen audibly gasped. yn’s breath hitched. she had no idea what her face looked like at that moment—only that her entire body was humming with adrenaline, her heart thudding like it was trying to claw its way out of her ribs. jake just stared. so she did the only thing she could do now: she kept talking.

“i love you,” she repeated, softer this time. her hands were shaking. “and i wasn’t going to. i was going to come here and feed you some ridiculous story about leaving town and wanting to say goodbye but... it’s a lie. not the leaving part. i am leaving. but everything else… i couldn’t go without telling you. i love you.” she swallowed, hard. “i left because i was scared. because i’ve never felt this way before. because—because you make me feel like i can be seen.” jake still hadn’t moved. so she took a shaky step closer, her voice trembling now. “and i didn’t want to lie to you anymore. not even with goodbye.” more silence.

behind her, jen’s grin was splitting her face. she gave jake a very obvious thumbs up and then, as though finally catching the memo that this was not her moment, turned around and muttered, “i’ll just… be over there.” rainwater dripped slowly from the edge of the roof behind her. the lantern in her hand flickered faintly, her fingers tight around the handle. the breeze carried the scent of lilacs and rain-wet leaves. jake finally let out a breath. his eyes hadn’t left hers once.

“addy,” he said softly—addy, still, like he was trying to convince himself she was real. jake stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. the candlelight flickered across his jaw, catching the hurt there, the cracks and the sharp edges she’d left behind. but there was something else too. something fierce and vulnerable and achingly tender. and slowly—so slowly—he exhaled. “say it again.”

her breath caught. “what?”

“say it again,” he repeated, stepping forward now, his own hands shaking. “like you mean it.”

her heart clenched. “i love you,” she whispered. “i think i’ve been in love with you from the second you called me an artful goose.”

jake let out a strangled sound—something like a laugh and a sob tangled together—and stepped forward until they were barely inches apart. and then—without saying a word—he pulled her into his arms. she nearly tripped over her own feet as he wrapped himself around her, arms tight, his face buried into her damp shoulder. “you’re an idiot,” he murmured into her cloak. her hands slid around his waist automatically, curling into his back, eyes squeezing shut. “i know,” she whispered back.

“you left me in the rain.”

“i know.”

“i couldn’t sleep.”

“i couldn’t breathe.”

jake pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes searching her face. “you love me?” he asked again, quieter this time. not teasing. not smug. just… hopeful. her fingers curled at his sides. “i really, really do.”

jake broke into the kind of grin that made her forget the name of the planet. “well,” he said, stepping impossibly closer. “i love you too.” her breath caught.

“i’ve been going insane, addy.”

“me too.”

“i thought i was too late.”

“you’re not.”

yn’s heart was a wild thing in her chest, thudding with a rhythm she couldn’t name. she could feel every point where their bodies touched—his hands cradling her waist, his chest brushing hers with each breath. there was a certain warmth radiating off him, like he carried the last remnants of summer in his skin. and she was burning in it. he hadn’t kissed her yet. not yet. but he was so close. so close. she didn’t move. couldn’t. she was afraid that if she did, the moment would pop like a soap bubble and she’d be back to the aching distance, the pretending, the constant weight of the truth pressing against her ribs.

jake’s eyes searched hers—gentle, unreadable, like he was trying to memorise the way she looked right then. like he knew something was different tonight, something quieter and more fragile than before. and then he whispered, “tell me to stop if you don’t want this.” his voice was low, but his hands never moved. he didn’t push. didn’t lean in. just… waited.

her chest rose sharply. “i don’t want you to stop,” she said, voice barely there. he exhaled, like the breath had been locked in his lungs for hours. “i’ve wanted to do this since the moment i saw you,” he said, tilting his head just slightly, his lips curling into a lazy grin as his eyes flickered attractively in a triangle with her eyes and lips. “when you marched up to me by the lake with mud on your skirt and sarcasm in your smile.”

she laughed nervously, breath hitching with nerves. “i was trying to be annoying.”

“you were,” he agreed. “it was adorable.”

she rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed, and he chuckled.

then—slowly, like he was afraid she’d vanish—jake brought one hand to her cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb over her skin. her heart skipped. “have you ever been kissed before?” he asked softly, just barely a whisper, not mocking—just curious. careful. she shook her head. “no?”

“no.”

jake smiled, and something about it—soft, reverent—made her chest ache. “alright,” he said, stepping even closer. “then let me take my time.” and god, he did.

his lips brushed hers like a secret, gentle and warm and impossibly slow. he didn’t rush it, didn’t deepen it too quickly. just let it linger, like a promise whispered between two people who had all the time in the world—even if they didn’t. yn's eyes fluttered shut, her breath catching in her throat. it was like falling—smooth and sudden and terrifying in the best way. jake kissed her again, just a little more firmly this time, one hand cupping her face, the other sliding to the small of her back. she tilted her head instinctively, chasing the softness of his mouth, her fingers clutching the edge of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

it wasn’t perfect. their noses bumped slightly. her teeth grazed his bottom lip once when she got too eager. but he didn’t care. he was grinning now—kissing her again between laughs, murmuring her name against her lips like it was the only thing he knew how to say. and yn—god, yn was flying. it was sweet and slow and completely her. her first kiss. not some stiff castle-dictated moment in a cold ballroom. not a stranger’s hand on her glove.

jake. jake, whose voice always softened when he teased her. jake, who listened to her rant about nothing. jake, who called her addy like it was the most beautiful name in the world. jake, whose thumb was now brushing the edge of her jaw as he pulled back, just barely, to look at her.

“you okay?” he whispered, searching her face like he’d broken her. she nodded quickly, blinking up at him with flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “didn’t expect you to be that good,” she mumbled.

jake smirked. “there’s more where that came from, sweetheart.”

she shoved his shoulder lightly, but she couldn’t stop smiling. her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. “you’re such a flirt,” she said.

“you love it.”

unfortunately, she did. he kissed her again—just a quick press to the lips—and she melted into it like he was something safe. and for a few minutes, nothing else mattered. not the looming engagement. not the lies. not the ticking clock above her head. just him. his mouth on hers. his arms around her. the way her heart swore, for the first time, that it had found something worth holding onto.

the music from the ballroom poured through the open stone arches of the palace entrance, slow and regal, the waltz of a kingdom already celebrating a union not yet sealed. the evening air was scented with roses and polished wood, every corner glowing with torchlight and lanterns hung like stars in the garden beyond. and yet, in the shadows just beyond the grand ballroom, behind the towering palace gates where the guests couldn’t yet see her—princess yn stood completely still.

a picture of poise. a sculpture of stillness. dressed in a sweeping ivory ballgown embroidered with pearls and golden thread, she looked like the perfect painting of a royal bride-to-be. her corset pulled her waist taut; the skirts fell like a waterfall around her feet. her hair was pinned in glimmering loops, the tiara—modest, but unmistakable—balanced like a weight on her head. but beneath all of it, she was vibrating with tightly-wound panic.

beside her stood ness. no longer a maid tonight. but a guest. a woman of the court. and god, if yn hadn’t already known she was beautiful, tonight would’ve been proof. the deep blue of her gown glimmered in the moonlight, hugging her curves, the sheer sleeves glittering with the tiniest sewn-in gems. her hair was swept up into a delicate crown braid, neck long and elegant. her hand reached for yn’s. “you okay?” ness asked quietly.

yn’s fingers gripped hers. “nope.” they stood that way for a moment—hands clasped, eyes ahead—while the palace gates loomed before them, the ballroom inside filled with noise and expectation. behind them came the soft rustle of silk. jen and cassie. and then their parents. the king and queen.

cassie’s face was unreadable, elegant and blank as ever, but yn noticed the slight twitch in her brow, the barely-there furrow at her mouth. jen, by contrast, was fidgeting. she looked beautiful, yes, but she was clearly just as nervous as yn was. her soft lilac dress fluttered with every shift of her weight, and she cast quick glances at the gate like she might bolt. the queen glanced at the watch hanging from her gloved wrist. “he’s late.” of course he was.

the one man everyone had been waiting for—the one man yn was supposed to smile at and pretend to be in love with—was nowhere to be seen. until he was. jogging. from the far arch of the gardens, through the side entrance, breath misting lightly in the night air—park sunghoon.

she hadn’t known what to expect. she’d heard of him, yes—tales of his sharp swordsmanship, his noble lineage, how he was well-read and good with animals. but stories couldn’t quite prepare her for the quiet power in his steps or the way he didn’t seem fazed by the grandeur around him. he was, in a word, pretty. striking pale skin with a flawless jawline, his features so finely sculpted it made sense that half the noblewomen in the region had probably once pinned portraits of him to their diaries. his hair, raven-black and perfectly styled, caught the firelight. but what caught her eye most of all—was the constellation of moles across his face. a tiny galaxy on the slope of his cheek, near his eye. beautiful. unmistakable.

but still… he wasn’t jake. not with his sun-browned skin and soft tanned hands with thick veins and that nose she wanted to trace with her finger.. and then maybe sit—

yn swallowed the thought. because sunghoon was here now. and the kingdom was watching. he stopped a few feet away from her, straightening his coat, catching his breath. “your highness,” he said, voice cool, polite, practiced.

“you’re late,” she said softly, eyes unreadable.

he gave a faint smile. “i know.” she should’ve been furious. should’ve been insulted. but when his eyes flicked—not to her, but past her—yn followed his gaze instinctively. and found it locked on—cassie. cassie, whose usually stiff posture faltered for just a second. whose lips parted, ever so slightly. whose fingers dug into her own wrist. oh. yn turned back to him. “do you want this?” she asked suddenly. quiet enough that no one else could hear.

sunghoon blinked, startled. “what?”

“this.” she gestured to the looming ballroom. “the marriage. the show. all of it.”

he hesitated. then he leaned slightly forward, voice lower. “no,” he said honestly. “i don’t. i—” his eyes flicked toward cassie again, “—i wanted to marry her.” yn’s breath caught.

sunghoon’s voice was soft. “i tried. but she said she wasn’t going to marry anyone. said she wanted to study abroad. said it was her duty to put her brain before her heart.”

yn turned back toward her sister briefly. cassie was doing a phenomenal job of pretending she wasn’t listening. but yn knew. she knew now why cassie had been so sharp, so bitter lately. why her eyes had lingered too long whenever someone mentioned sunghoon’s name. “does she love you?” yn asked, just as soft.

“i think so,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “but she chose her duty. like we’re both supposed to do now.”

yn didn’t reply right away. but something in her chest shifted. because here they were. two people—being asked to pretend. to parade. to play parts they never auditioned for. and in that moment, looking into sunghoon’s quiet, pained eyes, she made her choice. “let’s fake it,” she said.

he blinked. “what?”

“we’ll play the part. be the picture of royalty tonight. but we don’t go through with it. not truly. let them see what they want to see. and then—when the time comes—we walk away.”

sunghoon stared at her. then slowly—slowly—a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “you sure?” yn nodded. “because there’s someone else, right?” he guessed gently. her silence was enough. sunghoon offered her his arm. “then let’s put on a good show.”

and just like that—the gates opened. the music swelled. and they stepped forward. two hearts belonging elsewhere. two masks held perfectly in place. but behind them, cassie's hand trembled. and ness watched it all, knowing there was only so much longer they could pretend.

jake sim had never expected to attend a royal ball.

hell, he hadn’t even expected to stay in the village this long. everything had been temporary. his job. his room above the pub. the friendships he accidentally made while drinking ale and talking nonsense with edric and mabel. even his fondness for the cobbled roads, the smell of hearthfire and rain. temporary. just like her. or at least, she was supposed to be.

she said she was leaving. she told him—told him with sad eyes and quiet panic—that she was skipping town, running far away. she never explained why, and he hadn’t pressed. he figured… maybe he wasn’t meant to know. so when she left, he didn’t chase her. he stood there with her confession echoing in his chest—i love you—and he let her walk away. that had to count for something, didn’t it? letting someone go? even when they were everything?

the ball had been the last thing on his mind. nobles. princes. silks and scandals—it was none of his world. but the pub owner, an old woman with arthritic fingers and too much love for his half-grumbled charm, had shoved the invitation into his hand that afternoon. “don’t waste this,” she’d said. “dress nice. see something golden before your heart rusts shut.” so jake had stood in front of the mirror with a starched white shirt and a suit he hadn’t worn since his mother’s funeral. it didn’t quite fit—his shoulders had grown broader—but it was the best he had. and now here he was. at the gates of the grand palace of decelis. a place he never thought he’d step foot near, let alone enter.

the crowd around him buzzed with excitement. edric from the bakery, thalia with her silver-rimmed glasses and too-loud laugh, the twins mira and mabel—all faces he’d come to know and cherish. they all looked at him with teasing pride.

“look at you,” mira smirked, elbowing his side. “all cleaned up.”

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered, but he smiled anyway.

the gates loomed in front of them, golden and glittering. guards moved people forward in groups, checking names against the guest list. carriages lined the walkway. the whole sky shimmered with soft lantern light, casting a halo over the castle’s stone towers. jake should’ve felt lucky. he should’ve been impressed. but the whole time, his mind itched with thoughts of her. addy. that impossibly frustrating girl who made fun of his scowl and rammed her way into his life with blueberry pies and muddy skirts. who kissed like she meant it and ran like it terrified her. he missed her. and even though she had left, he still found himself scanning every face in the crowd. he didn’t expect to find her. not truly.

but then—he saw her. and his world stopped. she didn’t step through the crowd. she descended. through the arched marble corridor at the far end of the ballroom stairs, like a painting come to life, a vision in ivory. her hair pinned in golden loops. a delicate tiara atop her head. jewels glittering at her ears, her throat. her posture was perfect. her expression, practiced. and her hand—her hand was in someone else’s. jake didn’t move. couldn’t. because standing beside her was a man jake didn’t recognise, but could instinctively tell was royal. tall. sharp-featured. dressed in a perfectly tailored coat that screamed pedigree. the two of them glided down the staircase like they’d rehearsed it.

the room hushed. people bowed. and jake—jake could barely breathe. because her hand fit into the man’s arm too naturally. because they looked like they belonged in every storybook he’d never read. and because… her eyes had found his. right through the crowd. right through the noise. the very second they stepped into the ballroom, her gaze found his—and locked. everything paused. and he saw it. the moment her mask cracked. in the blink of an eye, jake watched a million things flicker across her face: panic, regret, pain, familiarity. and he knew. she hadn’t left the village. she was the palace. addy… was a princess. and she hadn’t told him.

a coldness spread through his chest like frostbite. he felt his throat tighten. something deep in his stomach turned painfully. she looked at him like she wanted to speak. like she had something to say. but what could she say now? what words could undo this? his name wasn’t called from the ballroom entrance. the guards didn’t bow for him. he didn’t belong here, not really. but he stood, somehow frozen in gold and silk and betrayal. he watched as her gaze flicked away, like it was too hard to keep looking at him. and jake sim—jake sim, who had held her in his arms like she was something precious, who memorised the curve of her smile and the sound of her laugh—then her name rang through the ballroom—princess yn of decelis—something inside him crumbled. but the moment the herald added, “—and her betrothed, prince park sunghoon,”—that’s when the ache started.

a tight, twisting, white-hot sting that burned from his throat down to the pit of his stomach. it wasn't even the fact that she was a princess. it was the fact that she'd lied. the fact that she stood there in pearls and gold beside another man, head held high, looking like she was born to rule while he stood in boots caked in village dirt, barely clinging to the inside of the royal walls. she was staring right at him when the announcement was made. he saw her flinch and so did sunghoon. just for a split second—a wince so quick and sharp that no one else noticed but him. and suddenly, the sharp stab of betrayal was pierced by confusion. they… didn’t want this?

jake’s brows furrowed, chest rising and falling unsteadily. the whole room clapped. laughed. toasted. every noble within earshot turned with wide smiles and lifted flutes of champagne, the celebration thundering through the walls. but jake couldn’t hear any of it. because right then, sunghoon dropped to one knee. there was a hush. silence. the music faded, the lights seemed to dim, and yn was left center stage. jake could barely breathe as he watched sunghoon hold up a small velvet box, a thin gold band glinting inside. her fingers trembled. and then—“yes,” she said, the smile so fake it looked painful on her lips.

his heart cracked. but she wasn’t done. because after the applause—after the hollow claps and echoing cheers—came the kiss. it was gentle. chaste. polite. but it still knocked the breath out of jake’s lungs. he turned. and this time, his feet moved. Fast. his legs carried him through the ballroom, past startled nobles and confused guards, out through the archway and into the garden until he hit the front lawn. and that’s when the tears came.

jake sim—who never cried. not when he was six and his home was taken in a flood. not when he watched his mother wither into bone and silence before the age of thirteen. not when he buried her under a willow tree behind their old town. but now. now he cried. he cried into his forearm as he felt the tears blur his vision. shoulders trembling, his breathing sharp and uneven. because she—she made him believe in something more. in softness. in magic. in evening strolls and stolen laughter and the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone like him could be loved by someone like her. and it was a lie. all of it.

“jake!” her voice sliced through the quiet night like a blade.

he didn’t turn. she ran to him—her skirts heavy, shoes kicking up grass and dew. the jewels in her hair were loose now, a few strands of hair escaping, cheeks flushed. “jake, please—”

he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “don’t.”

she froze at the sight of him—red-eyed, tear-streaked, lips trembling.

“i told you,” he whispered, voice thick. “i told you i don’t cry.”

yn’s heart broke clean in half. “i know,” she whispered. “i know you don’t.”

“not even for my mother,” he choked. “but for you—” his voice shattered.

“jake—”

“don’t lie again,” he said sharply, voice cracking. “not now.”

“i didn’t lie—”

“you told me you were leaving, addy.” he poked his cheek with his tongue, correcting himself immediately, voice bitter. “sorry princess, i meant yn.”

she winced at the tone of his voice and cried out. “because i didn’t know what else to do! what was i supposed to say? ‘hey jake, i’m secretly the princess of the kingdom you just moved into?’”

“you could’ve said something!” he said, voice loud now, but still hoarse. “god, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me—and i believed it. i fucking believed it.”

tears welled in her eyes. “i did mean it,” she said, her voice shaking. “i do love you.”

he looked away, jaw clenched.

“i’ve never loved anyone like i love you, jake,” she continued, stepping closer. “you think i wanted any of this? you think i’d choose to live in that gilded cage, with rules and duty and arranged marriages?”

he didn’t answer.

“do you know how long i’ve been sneaking into that village just to breathe?” she whispered. “just to feel like me? like a person? not a pawn on someone else’s game board?”

he slowly turned his head, eyes swollen, red. “so you ran there.”

“i ran there every day i could. and that day i found you sitting by the lake—” her breath hitched. “—it was the first day someone saw me. really saw me.”

jake looked at her like she was made of both fire and water.

“i wasn’t going to marry him,” she said. “we… we talked about it. we’re pretending. that was all for show.”

his brow furrowed.

“we planned it,” she explained. “sunghoon—he’s in love with my sister, cassie. and i’m—” she looked at him, stepping forward again, “—i’m in love with you.”

he let out a sharp, wounded breath. “then why do i still feel like i lost you?”

her hands twitched at her sides. “because for a moment… i lost myself.” silence fell between them. she looked up at him, eyes shining. “but i’m still here. and if you’ll have me, i’ll run again. with you, this time.”

he exhaled shakily, like her words cracked something open in his chest again. “say it again,” he whispered.

“what?” “that you love me.”

she didn’t blink. “i love you,” she said, voice steady now. “i love you, jake sim.”

he let out a quiet, broken laugh. and then he stepped forward. not with the same raw fury or desperation from before, but with a stillness that came only from letting his guard fall completely. he cupped her face, wet lashes meeting hers. “i love you, too,” he whispered.

she melted into him, and for a moment they just held each other, shaking, messy, broken—but together. jake stood still, tears still damp on his face, her hands cupping his jaw, her gaze begging him to believe her. and something in him cracked open. softly. quietly. but undeniably. because god, it had always been her. not the fake name. not the secrets. not the tiara or the silks. but the girl who made him laugh when his chest ached. the girl who rolled her eyes when he flirted but never walked away. the girl who once offered him half a burnt pie and a warm shoulder at the lake.

addy. yn. whoever she wanted to be. he didn’t care anymore. because she was his. she looked at him like she still wasn’t sure he would forgive her. her fingers trembled slightly where they held his face. her eyes shimmered with tears she hadn’t wiped away, cheeks flushed from crying. and jake—jake leaned in. slow. so slow it hurt. but when his lips brushed hers, she sighed. a real kiss. a soft one. like an apology. like a question. his thumb lifted to trace her cheek, still wet with tears, and then he kissed her again—deeper this time, his hand slipping to the back of her neck, anchoring her to him like he’d never let her go again.

she kissed him back with everything she had. not like that stunt in the ballroom with sunghoon—scripted, mechanical, cold. no. this kiss was the kind you felt in your lungs. like a breath after drowning. jake pulled back first, only just. their foreheads touched, noses brushing. they were both still crying but it was different now. “i’m sorry,” she whispered again, voice cracking.

he shook his head. “don’t say it again. just… don’t lie anymore.”

“i won’t.”

“promise me.”

“i swear.”

she clutched his lapel like she might fall over. “i’m going to fix this.”

jake’s brows furrowed softly, like he didn’t dare believe it.

“i’m going to talk to them,” she went on, quiet but sure. “my parents. tonight. i’ll tell them everything. that i don’t want to marry sunghoon. that i’m in love with someone who makes me feel more like myself than i’ve ever felt in that palace.”

he blinked at her, almost dazed. “you’d do that?”

“i’d run away if i had to,” she whispered. “but i want to do this right first. for you. for me. for us.” his jaw clenched like he was trying not to cry again. “and after that,” she added, her voice barely audible, “i’ll come back. to you. i will. just… wait for me?” jake let out a shaky breath, eyes burning again, but this time not from anger. she was coming back. she chose him. even after everything. he nodded. “i’ll wait,” he whispered. “just don’t be long.” she smiled, broken but real. then kissed him again, softer this time. just a brush. a promise. a quiet goodbye for now. and when she pulled away and turned, skirts swishing against the grass, her hand brushing his one last time—jake watched her go. heart in his throat and hope in his chest.

jake waited. for a night. then a day. then three more. and then a week and still, no sign of her. no familiar figure in the village square. no laughter by the baker’s window. no flutter of skirts at the lake. no addy. no yn. nothing. he paced the same roads they’d walked together, eyes scanning the corners of town she used to take him through. the flower stall. the blacksmith. the bell tower. he hadn’t even realised he’d memorised the route until she was no longer there to follow beside him.

the first few days, he held hope tightly between his hands like a glass that couldn’t crack. she said she’d come back. she said she was going to fix it. she’d kissed him like she meant it. and jake sim—stupid, bleeding-hearted jake—believed her. but then came the silence. and silence had a way of becoming truth.

the villagers knew now. of course they did. the morning after the ball, the whole town had been buzzing. princess yn. the second-born royal. the one they never saw. the one who had been among them this whole time, walking with muddy hems and wind-tangled hair, disguised as a commoner. there were whispers in every alley and bakery. jake couldn’t even open the pub door without someone side-eyeing him. like he was foolish for thinking she would ever choose him. and maybe he was. he hadn’t realised just how hard it would be to breathe without her. and yet he tried. every morning, he opened his eyes and hoped today would be the day he saw her again.

until he saw ness. he had recognised her features from the way yn had described her best friend—a natural pout on her lips, dimples poking through her rosy cheeks and wavy hair tied up into a messy updo.

it was late afternoon, the sun warm and golden against the cobbled road. jake was walking toward the grocer’s when he spotted a familiar silhouette tucked just outside jungwon’s shop—the weekly supplier’s little storefront with sacks of grains stacked by the door and flowerpots lining the front window. ness stood there. or rather—beamed there. her cheeks glowed, her eyes big and soft as she laughed at something jungwon had said. he stood too close. she let him. her fingers brushed his sleeve and lingered a second too long. he bent forward to whisper something in her ear, not pulling back without a soft kiss to her eyebrow as she averted her gaze from him. they were wrapped in a bubble so intimate it almost hurt to watch. jake had to break it.

he approached slowly, hands in his pockets, trying not to startle them. jungwon looked up first, blinking. “oh—jake,” he said, smiling politely. “didn’t expect—”

“sorry,” jake said, forcing his voice to stay even. “didn’t mean to interrupt. i just…” he glanced at ness. her face paled the second she registered who he was.

“you’re jake,” she said quietly, as if his name was a knife she’d been holding in her throat.

he nodded once. “yeah. i was… wondering if either of you had seen her.” no name needed, everyone knew who he meant.

ness stepped away from jungwon slightly, hands wringing at her waist. “i… oh, jake.” something in jake’s chest twisted. her eyes were swimming now, guilt written across every inch of her face. “i didn’t know how to find you,” she whispered, reaching into the folds of her robe. “she asked me to give you this. in case…”

jake didn’t ask. just took the letter with slightly trembling fingers. it was folded neatly, tied together with a very familiar twine. he recognised it from when they found an old bookstore, stealing a bunch of twines from the far end of the dusty room. the parchment was soft. royal. and it had his name. Jake. nothing else. no title. no princess handwriting. just his name.

he looked up once more to see tears brimming ness’ eyes. “i’m sorry,” she said. “she didn’t want to go. i swear it. but they—” he nodded once, a silent thank-you, and turned. he didn’t want to cry here so he made it to the hill just past the village, by the little tree where she’d once shown him the view of the valley. then sat and opened the letter.

dear jake,

i don’t know how to write this. i’ve rewritten this letter ten times already. nothing feels right. but if you’re reading this… then you already know. they sent me away. the moment i told them about you, my parents made arrangements overnight. i wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye. i barely had time to write this. i’m in the eastern kingdom now. sunghoon’s home. they said it was for “my protection”—to avoid scandal, to save face. they locked me into a new agreement. the wedding is approaching. it’s being planned around me, not with me. i’ve never felt more like a pawn.

sunghoon knows. he’s as miserable as i am. he said something funny though—he said, “i think we’re the only people in this situation who both want to run away.” maybe one day we will. but right now, jake… i don’t have a choice. i want to believe i’ll find my way back to you. i still do. but things are starting to slip through my fingers.

i’m writing this with my heart in my throat. i keep thinking about our kiss. your hands on my waist. the way you said you’d wait. and i’m terrified because i don’t want to ask you to keep waiting, not when i don’t know how long i’ll be gone. or if i’ll even get the chance to leave. but if i don’t say it, i think i’ll break.

i love you. i love you so much it hurts to breathe. please don’t hate me. please understand.

i'm so, so sorry.

forever and ever yours only and truly, addy yn

jake stared at the letter for a long, long time. the wind rustled the grass around him. distantly, he could hear birds. he didn’t move. didn’t speak. didn’t cry this time. he just folded the letter carefully, pressed it to his lips like he might keep her there for one more second and closed his eyes.

america was loud. louder than the hush of decelis’s palace halls. louder than the quiet sighs of tea poured into porcelain cups. louder even than the thoughts yn carried like stitched threads behind her ribs, still knotted after all these years. the clamor of the docks, the honking carriages, the rapid buzz of a foreign tongue—it overwhelmed her senses. and yet she smiled. because smiling was expected. because she had perfected the art of looking content. because she had sunghoon beside her—tall, polite, quiet—and their daughter asleep in his arms, her tiny head tucked into his shoulder, curled like she always had since she was born.

they had arrived in new york that morning. a beautiful estate waited for them on the edge of the hudson river, one arranged in advance through letters and assistants and layers of royal planning. sunghoon had looked at her carefully when he brought up the location months ago. “it’s where cassie studies,” he’d said. yn had only smiled. she hadn’t asked if he wanted to see her. she didn’t need to. “go ahead,” she’d said. “if that would make you happy.” sunghoon didn’t answer, but the way his throat tightened told her everything.

they had never fallen in love. not the kind that changed the way your name felt in someone’s mouth. not the kind that made you want to set the world on fire just to keep someone warm. not like she did jake. their marriage was like a book with pages glued shut. all appearance. all ritual. nothing bled through anymore. after the wedding, they’d simply become… two people who understood each other. enough to exist together. enough to survive. but not enough to live. and that had been fine.

until their daughter was born. a tiny, impossibly loud girl with curls that bounced and a mind that never stopped. she was six now, just old enough to question everything. just enough to start pointing out things they had both kept hidden. “why do you call dada ‘sunghoon’?” she asked once, nose scrunched. “mama nessie calls dada won ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’.” yn had just smiled and said, “because dada, sunghoon’s name is very pretty.” it wasn’t a lie. it just wasn’t the truth either.

ness arrived a few hours after they docked. a flurry of hugs, royal bows, and squeals from the little one who adored her mama nessie. jungwon followed soon after, bags in both hands, the same boyish charm still lingering on his face—though now his eyes held more quiet, more strength. he had grown into a man in those years, but his love for ness hadn’t changed one bit. they were married now. and had followed yn to america out of loyalty—not to the crown, but to her. they worked under the park household as trusted aides, but their affection for yn was never professional. it was personal. they had been her family when her real one had fallen quiet. now, years later, they shared a soft home on the far side of the estate. ness helped with yn’s daughter often, and jungwon helped sunghoon manage the household’s business affairs in the new city. the arrangement worked. but it never filled the hollow. that particular hollow had been carved by jake.

it was colder at night, even in early summer. not in the way decelis had been, with its cool marble halls and formal silences. but a bite in the air that felt more honest. more alive.

yn sat in the backseat of a carriage, her head tilted slightly toward the window, watching the cobblestones pass like old memories she couldn’t stop replaying. her daughter had been dropped off with the caretaker earlier, her laughter echoing down the hallway even as yn walked away. sunghoon had been gone all afternoon—said he wanted to visit cassie now that they were in the same country again. she’d just smiled, nodded, waved him off with nothing more than a simple “go ahead.” because if anyone deserved happiness out of this broken marriage… it was sunghoon.

yn had done her duty. had smiled and bowed and made her parents proud, her kingdom proud. she’d raised their daughter with more love than she knew she had inside of her. but still… something had always been missing. and today, as the sun dipped behind the buildings of new york city, she felt that hollowness gnawing more than usual. ness noticed it too. which was why she and jungwon had insisted on dragging her out tonight. “we’re not doing this, yn,” ness had said while adjusting her earrings. “you’ve been moping for days.”

“i haven’t,” yn argued weakly, slipping on her gloves.

“yes, you have,” jungwon chimed in with a soft grin, his coat already buttoned up. “you miss being twenty-one and reckless.”

yn had sighed. “don’t we all?”

the bar was warm, polished, crowded enough to be lively but not stifling. laughter rose in pockets, a piano clinked near the corner. americans were loud, but their joy was infectious. “this,” ness declared, spinning once, “is what the queen would faint over.”

jungwon chuckled. “that’s why we didn’t bring her.”

they found a booth by the window. ness and jungwon slid in first, shoulder to shoulder, their whispered giggles already starting. yn sat across from them, unwinding her scarf. her daughter was at home, napping peacefully under the eyes of their most trusted caretaker. sunghoon had gone out for dinner with some associates—and maybe, possibly, cassie. yn didn’t ask. she just wanted a night where she didn’t have to be anyone. no titles. no rules. just herself.

and then—“alright,” a familiar voice said from above, clipped with casual sarcasm. “what’ll it be tonight? let me guess. something that tastes like regret?” her breath caught. her spine straightened. slowly, so slowly, she looked up. and the world stopped moving.

jake.

yn hadn’t said his name in years. not aloud. but god, did she think it. everywhere. when she passed the smell of fresh bread near the bakery. when she caught a glimpse of old cottage roofs hidden behind flowerbeds. when her daughter smiled with too much mischief in her eyes, her hands smudged with blueberry jam. jake had never left her. not really. and some part of her hated herself for it. sunghoon never brought it up. never asked. but the weight of unspoken things hung between them, as ever-present as breath. still, she had made peace with it all. or so she told herself.

and there he was. older. sharper. but him. his jaw was more defined now, cheekbones stronger. his hair was a bit shorter, still dark and messy, like he never quite bothered with brushing. he wore an apron that read “no, i won’t marry you,” and it made her lips twitch.

his eyes met hers. and for one suspended second, everything fell away. no palace. no husband. no years. just two people who had once been everything to each other. jake blinked. his hand dropped slightly from where it rested on the tray, like it had forgotten what to do. “...addy?”

her heart squeezed. “yn,” she corrected, gently.

jake’s lips parted. “right. of course.” his voice was a little rougher now, but the warmth hadn’t gone. it was there in the curve of his mouth. the faint disbelief in his laugh. “you’re here.”

“i am.”

jake stared at her for a second longer—like he was afraid if he blinked she might disappear again. then ness cleared her throat, trying very hard not to grin. “you going to take our order, or should i get behind the bar?”

jake startled. “right. uh. drinks?”

“your strongest,” jungwon said, slipping an arm around ness.

yn smiled faintly. “surprise me.” jake hesitated. then nodded. “i can do that.”

the drinks came quick—jake clearly knew his way around a bar now.

the evening moved. laughter grew louder, the night warmer. ness and jungwon whispered and giggled across the table like teenagers, legs tangled beneath the wood. yn sipped her drink slowly, letting the quiet burn settle into her chest. she watched them with soft eyes. jungwon brushing a strand of ness’s hair behind her ear. ness fixing his collar like it was second nature. their love didn’t ask for attention—it just was. a constant. and watching it made yn feel something she hadn’t in a long time. envy. not the bitter kind. the wistful kind. because once, she might’ve had that too.

“want some air?” came a voice beside her. she looked up. jake. his expression unreadable, but his gaze gentle. she nodded. they stepped out to the patio behind the bar, string lights twinkling overhead, casting amber glows across wooden beams. it smelled like old whiskey and fresh bread and wind.

jake leaned against the railing. “didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“didn’t think i’d ever get to explain.”

“you didn’t have to,” he said, eyes on the city lights. “i figured it out eventually. your life was never really yours to begin with.”

she sighed. “still. i’m sorry.” he glanced at her. “i forgave you a long time ago.”

she looked down. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

“i know.”

she smiled faintly. “i still remember that day at the lake.”

jake laughed under his breath. “the almost-kiss?”

“you were going to kiss me.” “i wanted to kiss you.” “you looked so proud of yourself.” “i was proud. i was charming.” “you were insufferable.” “you loved it.”

she laughed. and god, it felt like breathing. silence fell between them then. comfortable. real. jake turned to her fully, finally asking, “so what’s your life like now?”

yn hesitated. “not what i imagined,” she said honestly. “we’re… comfortable. sunghoon and i. we tried to make the best of it. and then our daughter came and she became everything.”

jake nodded. “does he make you laugh?”

she looked at him, slowly. “no. not like you.”

jake smiled, sad and soft. then: “you look good. happy.” “are you?”

he shrugged. “i’ve got a bar. a decent place. friends. a dog named lady layla.”

she blinked. “seriously?”

he smirked. “she’s royalty, obviously.”

she laughed again. jake watched her. really watched her. and when the wind picked up and her hair swept across her face, he reached out and tucked it behind her ear. her breath caught. the same hand brushed her cheek. “you still freeze up when i do that,” he murmured.

“you still know.” “i never forgot.”

she looked up at him. all those years. all that space. and still—it felt like them. and maybe it was selfish, maybe it was foolish, but she whispered anyway—“if we’d met now... do you think it could’ve worked?”

jake’s smile was heartbreak and home all at once. “i think it still could.”

a beat. then he leaned in—not for a kiss, but for something simpler. his forehead against hers. his breath against her lips. no promises. no claims. just the quiet knowing that sometimes, love doesn’t need a title.

it just is.

#btlo #reviews

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ikeu05 · 19 hours ago

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who wnna see an edit of me and jake i made 😊

tryna reclaim being the no.1 jake stan HAHAHAHAH (i just saw this in my gallery and i think i look nice ??? so yea idk (gonna delete this very soon HAHAHAH))

#𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ #I WAS BOTED #AND I LOVE SUUUAAAVVERREE

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ikeu05 · 1 day ago

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heheheh hope u like it (also it's rlly not as dramatic as i deem it to be rlly LMAO)

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 crawling back to you , busy being yours to fall for somebody new

pairing commoner! jake x secret princess! reader

featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon of enhypen / ness, an oc (me hehe) / cassendra "cassie" knight (23) — the oldest princess / genevieve "jen" knight (18) — the youngest princess

genre forbidden love, secret identities, fluff, angst, forced marriage, victorian themes

word count 23.5k :O

and within it, she was princess yn of the house of ainsley, second daughter of the king, born under a rare moon and hidden just as quickly from the world.

and it would all begin on the day the boy from nowhere lost his job.

jake sim didn’t ask for much.

“you’re a menace, sim!”

brilliant. he rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to sulk dramatically near the market, as any reasonable man would after being humiliated.

that’s when it happened. something collided with him. soft but fast. like a bird made of elbows and curses.

“bloody hell—” jake stumbled backward, nearly slipping on an apple someone had abandoned on the cobblestones. he blinked as the impact staggered off him.

she blinked at him. and he blinked at her. and for a moment, the market noise faded to background fuzz.

“watch it,” she muttered, brushing past him.

jake opened his mouth. nothing came out. he turned around to follow her steps, mouth still ajar like a stunned trout. “wait—you ran into me!”

the girl glanced over her shoulder. “and i survived. congratulations to us both.”

whoever she was.

the lake behind the chapel ruins wasn’t much—just a quiet stretch of water cradled by willows and old mossy rocks. the kind of place that looked like it had secrets. the kind jake liked.

he picked up a flat stone, tested the weight with a flick of his fingers, and threw.

plop. terrible. the next one skipped once. better. the third skipped thrice. by the fifth, he was starting to forget how annoyed he’d been. until—

“you’re terrible at that,” a voice called from behind.

“you.” he blinked, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “bread thief.”

“unemployed flirt.”

jake huffed a laugh. “well. that’s new. usually i get ‘charismatic’, or ‘charmingly unfortunate’. but alright.”

jake looked down at her, cocking a brow. “you’ve got strong opinions for someone who bodyslammed me this morning.”

“i was in a hurry.”

“to rob another bakery?”

“to feed a fox, actually.” she smirked, grabbing a stone. “not that you deserve to know.”

“i’ve got to admit,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, “i didn’t expect to be blessed with your presence again so soon.”

she didn’t look at him. “don’t get used to it.”

jake grinned. “is that a threat? or a promise?”

she sighed audibly, lips twitching. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, watching her skip a perfect four-stone ripple across the lake, “here you are. voluntarily sitting beside an insufferable man.”

“because i felt bad.”

“oh, don’t do that,” jake groaned dramatically. “pity is so unflattering. at least lie and say you missed my face.”

“i missed the way your hair looks like it lost a duel with a broom.”

he touched his hair, mock-offended. “that’s cruel. it’s got character.”

she stood again, brushing dirt off her skirt, already turning to go. “you talk too much.”

jake stood too, following without being asked. “you’ve got the eyes of someone who’s keeping a thousand secrets.”

she didn’t respond.

“and the mouth of someone who’s never going to tell me any of them.”

still, nothing. “also,” he added cheerfully, “a really pretty nose. has anyone ever told you that?”

she glanced at him sideways. “no. and don’t start.” too late.

“i’m starting,” he said, hands in his pockets now, grinning like a fool. “pretty nose. even prettier mouth. your insults are getting prettier too.”

“stop.”

“can’t.”

“seriously—”

“it’s a condition.”

“well,” she said softly. “i suppose the lake wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

she had laughed once. once. jake had pretended not to notice, but the sound had echoed in his chest like church bells. not loud—just long-lasting.

“…shit,” she whispered, eyes wide.

jake blinked. “wow. harsh review. i thought that story was charming.”

“no,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “no, i didn’t—i lost track of time—”

“what time is it?” he asked, confused, still on the ground.

“i—it’s nearly seven. i’m late. i have to go. i really have to—” she was already backing away, stumbling slightly as she turned on her heel.

“woah, hey, wait—late for what? did the fox schedule a dinner party?”

she didn’t even smirk this time. her face had gone pale, mouth drawn tight. it wasn't just urgency. it was fear. panic, almost.

jake stood quickly, taking a step forward. “at least tell me your name.”

“i can’t.”

jake tilted his head. “can’t? or won’t?”

she didn’t answer.

he tried again, softer this time. “okay. then can i tell you mine?” silence.

“jake,” he said anyway. “jake sim.”

and for a moment, she stood completely still. as if memorising it. as if folding the syllables up and tucking them somewhere deep.

then, she ran. not a polite jog. a full sprint into the fading light.

jake stood there, wind catching the edges of his shirt, watching her disappear like the last streak of sunset. he scratched the back of his neck, feeling oddly… cold.

“jake sim,” he said again to himself. then huffed a laugh. “that’s me. just out here... falling for ghosts.”

“you’re late.”

yn yelped and whirled around, only to find the familiar face she knew she'd see.

“ness,” she breathed, half a laugh, half a wince.

“you said you'd be back by six,” ness hissed, dragging yn inside and quietly shutting the door behind them. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

“just past seven?” yn guessed with a sheepish grin.

ness glared and grabbed a clean cloth, throwing it at her. “try almost half-past. your father asked where you were during the tea sitting. i lied. again.”

“i owe you,” yn muttered, peeling off her coat. “again.”

“you owe me your entire life at this point.”

the servants’ dressing quarters were narrow but hidden behind the massive kitchen halls, where the scent of firewood and cloves clung to every surface. here, everything was quiet. secret. safe.

yn quickly started changing behind the curtain partition. “cassie’s too busy talking about wedding colours to care. and jen will just say i was off with a headache again.”

“you're lucky they cover for you sometimes.”

“not really. no one actually cares where i go. they just don’t want me embarrassing them.”

ness’s gaze softened. she didn’t argue. instead, she helped yn out of her boots, brushing off flecks of grass. “you really shouldn’t run off so often,” she said gently.

“why not? it’s not like anyone notices when i’m here.”

“they do,” ness said softly. “your father does. your mother just… doesn’t like when things slip outside the script.”

yn rolled her eyes. “of course. because heaven forbid i step off the page cassie wrote for me.”

ness gave her a look. “you don’t have to become her. you just have to survive dinner without starting a scandal.”

yn snorted. “not promising anything.”

as ness fastened the buttons at the back of her dress, yn grinned over her shoulder. “speaking of scandal... jungwon’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he?”

ness froze, her fingers lingering on the last button. “he’s just bringing supplies.”

“oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“yn.”

“he flirts like a boy with a crush. you tuck your hair behind your ear when he talks. it’s almost cute.”

ness flushed, swatting her arm. “it’s nothing.”

“liar. i saw him give you his scarf last week when it got chilly.”

“he was just being polite!”

yn smirked. “if that’s what we’re calling flirting now, i’m in trouble.”

ness tried not to smile, but her dimples betrayed her. “hurry,” she said instead, pushing her toward the hall. “go pretend to be respectable.”

genevieve—jen—sat across from her, twirling her fork with all the ease of a youngest child, laughing softly at something the steward had said before dinner.

"where were you today?" her father's voice rang across the table like a verdict. there it was. the question she always heard. not how are you. not what did you do. just where. always where.

"garden," she lied quickly, unfolding her napkin. "by the orchard."

the queen nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. “your cheeks are flushed.”

“it's warm in the corridor.”

“—you.”

she walked straight into a warm chest. again.

“oh my god,” she muttered, stumbling back as familiar hands gently steadied her by the arms. “this is becoming a thing.”

jake looked far too pleased with himself. “you really need to stop bumping into me like this,” he said, eyes glittering in the sunlight. “people are starting to talk.”

she shoved him away. lightly. not convincingly. “are you following me?”

jake raised both hands. “i’ll have you know, i am a man of high moral standing. i was just heading to the well.”

“you live nowhere near the well.”

“…that’s true,” he admitted. “but you live nowhere near the bakery and you were here, so…”

yn narrowed her eyes. “so you were looking for me.”

jake grinned, like he was proud of himself. “i’ve got a mission.”

she crossed her arms. “let me guess. world peace?”

“close,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “figuring out your name.”

yn rolled her eyes and turned to walk again. “you’re wasting your time.”

jake followed with his hands shoved in his pockets. “i don’t think so. it’s like a puzzle. mysterious girl. stolen bread. muddy boots. lies for days. what’s not to obsess over?”

“you sound dangerously unwell.”

he laughed, catching up easily. “you know, last night i was trying to guess. thought maybe it was something sharp. like ravenna.”

she snorted.

“or something delicate. like lily.”

“do i look like a lily to you?”

jake tilted his head. “no. definitely not. you look like trouble.”

she didn’t look at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “that’s not a name.”

“it is now.”

“why does it matter so much?” she asked finally.

she huffed a small laugh.

“and because,” he continued more softly, “if i’m going to fall into this story, i’d at least like to know the name of the main character.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “that’s not your real name.”

she smirked. “it’s enough.”

jake grinned, like he’d just been handed a riddle and a key at the same time.

“alright then, addy,” he said, testing it on his tongue. “can i walk you home?”

“if you can keep up.”

jake let her walk ahead, then caught up easily, bumping shoulders just slightly. “oh,” he added, like it was an afterthought. “and you’re thinking about me now, aren’t you?”

she didn’t respond. but she was. god, she was.

just like that. like she hadn’t been dodging every real question he asked. like she wasn’t the most confusing girl he’d ever met. like he didn’t already want to follow her anywhere.

their first stop was the bakery, which smelled like honey and cinnamon and exactly the kind of thing jake needed after another night on a lumpy mattress in the tavern’s spare room.

“edric,” she called casually as they stepped inside, “be nice. i brought a friend.”

the man behind the counter—mid-fifties, large belly, ruddy cheeks—looked up from kneading dough and narrowed his eyes. “a friend, huh?”

jake straightened, smiling reflexively. “pleasure—”

“don’t bother charming him,” she muttered under her breath. “he’s immune.”

jake turned. “you stole bread for me?”

she scoffed. “i did not.”

“she did,” edric confirmed, deadpan.

“i was testing its crust,” she insisted.

jake looked very pleased. “you stole bread for me,” he said again, like it was proof of something.

she rolled her eyes, tossing a coin on the counter. “one honey twist, and nothing more for this idiot.”

as they left, jake tore into the bread, humming in delight. “that was the best crime ever committed in my honor.”

next was thalia, the old florist who sat outside her shop surrounded by baskets of wild blooms and herbs. she looked up from arranging violets and clucked her tongue when she saw yn.

“you’re late, darling,” she said, brushing petals from her apron. “i saved the purple ones.”

“i wasn’t coming for flowers today.”

“well, too bad. you’re getting some.” thalia handed her a small bunch of lavender and yn accepted it with mock reluctance, then handed one to jake without explanation.

jake stared at the single stalk in his palm. “are you proposing?”

“i’m keeping your hands busy so you don’t touch anything,” she muttered.

“you know everyone,” he said, finally, when they reached the river bridge and paused to catch their breath.

she shrugged. “i’ve been here a long time.”

“but no one knows your name.”

she didn’t answer that. just leaned over the bridge’s stone railing, watching the ripples below.

she shot him a look. “you say that like you know other versions.”

“i’ve met the one who dodges questions and threatens to drown me in a lake.”

she smirked. “that version has her uses.”

he watched her for a beat longer, then joined her at the railing. their shoulders brushed. neither moved away.

“so,” she said after a moment. “what about you? what’s jake sim doing in riverfield?”

he blew out a breath. “that’s a loaded question.”

“i’m not in a rush.”

“i’m sorry.”

jake shook his head. “don’t be. i’m not. just got tired of following his shadow. figured if i had to be broke and aimless, might as well do it somewhere quiet.”

“and here you are. aimless and in excellent company.”

he grinned. “exactly.”

she turned toward him. “and what do you want, jake sim?”

he opened his mouth. closed it. “i’m still figuring that out.”

they stood there for a while longer. then she said, “come on. one more place.”

she pulled herself up onto a low wall and looked out across the trees. jake climbed up beside her.

he watched her more than the view. “did you ever want more?” he asked. “than this?”

she was quiet. then: “i don’t know. i think i just wanted… to be seen. to matter.”

“you do.”

she met his eyes. and for a second, everything in her chest fell silent. he said it so easily. so sincerely. “you’re strange,” she whispered.

jake tilted his head. “and you’re hiding something.”

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

“you can’t prove it.”

“give me time.”

she smiled despite herself.

he grinned like a boy with a secret. “addy,” he said again, deliberately. “i like saying that.”

she lowered her eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“i think i already have.”

“same time tomorrow?” jake asked, half-hopeful, half-sure she’d disappear again.

but she just nodded, already turning away. “if you can find me.” and just like that—she was gone. jake stood there, grinning like a fool, lavender stalk still in his hand.

“you’re going to regret that later,” yn muttered, smirking as she reached over for a bite.

“you could have just taken a piece yourself,” ness muttered without looking up.

“i like yours better,” yn replied sweetly, dropping another berry into her mouth. “it tastes like justice. forbidden, juicy justice.”

“i think i like him,” yn said suddenly, eyes fixed on the window across the stone courtyard, watching the flutter of birds and not the way her heart started speeding.

ness paused mid-bite.

“oh?” ness cocked a brow at her.

yn bit her lip. “it’s stupid. i barely know him. and i haven’t even told him anything real about me.”

“does he know your name yet?”

she gave a small, guilty shrug. “...sort of. i gave him a fake one. i told him it was addy.”

ness raised a brow. “addy?”

“do not judge me, ness. it came out of nowhere.”

“i’m not judging,” ness said, grinning as she stabbed a piece of crust with her fork. “it’s very... you.”

“you’re not helping.”

“well, you’re also not giving me details.”

“that’s because if i do, it’ll feel real. and if it feels real, then it’ll get ruined.”

“or it won’t.”

yn hesitated. then plucked another berry and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “he’s clever. too clever. he’s already suspicious.”

“oh no. someone caught onto the act?”

“no, not the act. me. the real me. i didn’t mean to say so much yesterday, but i… i think i wanted to. and that’s dangerous.”

ness leaned forward, dropping her fork into the empty plate with a soft clink. “or it’s honest. sometimes, it’s scarier being seen than hiding.”

yn glanced at her, heart tugging. “when did you get so wise?”

“ness?” he called out, not seeing yn just yet as she sat tucked against the prep table by the hearth.

ness stood too quickly. “you didn’t have to carry those both at once—”

“they’re not that heavy.”

“you’re sweating.”

“you’re glowing,” he corrected, smiling like an idiot.

“you look tired. did your back hurt again this morning?” he asked quietly.

ness blinked. “how did—?”

“you always stand with your hand pressed to your side when it does.”

“i just worry,” he replied, stepping a bit closer. “you don’t let anyone else worry about you.”

ness’s eyes flicked nervously toward the kitchen entrance. “jungwon—”

“just let me,” he said, soft and honest. “at least once.” and then, very casually, very quietly, like he asked a million times before, he added, “can i have a kiss, darling?”

yn cleared her throat. loudly.

jungwon turned, startled — then horrified. his face lit up in a blaze of red so fast it could’ve set the pie on fire. “princess,” he croaked, eyes wide.

yn raised a hand like she was greeting a bird in a tree. “hi.”

“i—i didn’t see you there, i wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

“oh, no, don’t mind me,” she said sweetly. “i was just over here, eating pie and listening to the single most romantic grain delivery i’ve ever witnessed.”

ness groaned, burying her face in her apron. “i’m going to throw myself into the oven.” jungwon looked like he wanted to follow her in.

“you two are so obvious,” yn teased, grinning now as she slid off the table. “do you know how many times i’ve seen you blush like that from the stables? i thought maybe ness had allergies.”

“your highness—” jungwon tried, face bright red.

“i wasn’t confessing—!”

“you asked for a kiss,” ness muttered into her hands.

“bold,” yn commented.

“brave,” ness added.

“embarrassing,” jungwon mumbled, before finally groaning and rubbing the back of his neck. “i’ll just—go.”

“don’t forget your reward,” yn called, grinning.

and as if that hadn’t already flustered him enough, ness stepped up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek. “next week,” she whispered. “don’t be late.”

“please,” she muttered. “please drop me into the pie.”

yn walked over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, giggling into her shoulder. “you love him.”

“i don’t—shut up.”

“he loves you too. it’s cute.”

“you’re evil.”

“and you’re soft.”

yn smirked. “only if you tell me what it feels like when he brings you sacks of rice like a love letter.”

they leaned in close, and for a while, they were just two girls again. dreaming, scheming, hearts pounding. in love — just quietly.

jake’s eyes flicked toward her, startled. then lit up. “hey—”

“hi,” yn said, sickly sweet, planting herself beside him.

yn smiled wider. “addy,” she said, voice light. “nice to meet you.”

the girl didn’t offer her name in return. instead, she tilted her head. “never seen you around. are you from here?” before yn could answer, another voice cut in. low. tired. familiar.

“…addy?”

the girl blinked. “you two know each other?”

jungwon opened his mouth, clearly seconds away from saying something he absolutely should not—

“walk with me!” yn blurted, grabbing jungwon by the sleeve and dragging him around the corner of the store before anyone could stop them.

“wait, what—”

“i’ll explain, i swear,” she hissed, breath coming fast. “just—two seconds, please.”

yn winced. “shhh!”

“you’re lucky i didn’t say anything back there!”

“i know! that’s why i dragged you back here.”

jungwon looked like he wanted to scream. “does ness know?”

“of course ness knows.”

he stared at her, incredulous. “unbelievable.”

“i’m not doing it to stir drama. i just—i needed space. i needed people to see me like me, not as some perfect royal mannequin everyone expects me to be.”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “so let me get this straight. you’ve been sneaking out for months, hiding your name, and now you’re… what? flirting with jake sim?”

she flushed. “i’m not flirting.”

“really? because i walked up and it looked like you were about to maul him.”

“okay, maybe i was a little jealous.”

jungwon stared again.

then groaned. “you’re unbelievable.”

she tugged on his sleeve, desperate. “please don’t say anything. especially not to him.”

jungwon studied her face for a moment. the plea in her eyes. the way she looked more like herself than she ever had inside the castle. then he sighed. “you owe me.”

“forever.”

they returned around the corner, rejoining the other two. the girl—still looking thoroughly annoyed—raised her brows. “oh,” she said. “you’re back. that was quick.”

jungwon clicked his tongue at her. “wonlin, be nice.”

yn smiled. “just a quick hello. jungwon and i go way back.”

jake looked between them. “you do?”

before yn could answer, the girl–wonlin–cut in again. “that’s odd. we just moved here.”

jake turned toward her. “wait, really?”

jungwon, to his credit, stepped in smoothly. “ah,” he said quickly. “she’s friends with one of our former vendors. we crossed paths a few times. isn’t that right, addy?”

yn nodded vigorously. “exactly. small world.”

wonlin didn’t look convinced. jake seemed puzzled, but shrugged. “well, you’re lucky. jungwon seems great.”

wonlin smiled at jake, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “yea right whatever, i guess he is.”

jake blinked. “weird?”

“you’re quieter than usual.”

he shrugged, then shot her a grin. “maybe i’m just enjoying the scenery.”

she narrowed her eyes. “nice save.”

he bumped her shoulder lightly with his. “maybe i just know better than to keep talking when you’re lost in thought.”

“i’m never lost in thought.”

“you were definitely staring at a squirrel like it had insulted your entire bloodline.”

“i was imagining how i’d kill someone with that pinecone beside it.”

uh-oh. that tone. nothing good ever started with “so…” like that.

“do you think jungwon’s… cool?” he asked, and his voice was way too casual to be actually casual.

yn blinked, caught off-guard. “what?”

jake cleared his throat. “just asking.”

she tilted her head. “cool how?”

jake looked off to the side, like he was studying a particularly fascinating chunk of moss on a wall. “you know. just… cool.”

“…you mean attractive?”

he didn’t answer. which was answer enough. a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “are you jealous?”

jake scoffed, but she didn’t miss the way he rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching slightly. “no.”

“you’re totally jealous.”

“i’m not.”

“you are! oh my god.”

jake groaned, dramatic. “i just asked a question. why does that mean i’m jealous?”

“because you’ve been acting weird ever since we left the shop. and now you’re randomly bringing up jungwon like you’re on trial for something.”

“my favorite cousin?!” she wheezed.

“i panicked!”

“jake,” she said, still laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”

he looked at her, face serious despite the blush creeping up his neck. “so? do you?”

yn paused. then softened. “no,” she said. “i don’t like jungwon. not like that.” he looked relieved, but she wasn’t finished. “he’s in love with my best friend.”

jake blinked. “what?”

“yep. been watching him fall harder every week.”

��but… he didn’t say anything.”

“he doesn’t need to.” she grinned. “it’s so obvious. he looks at her like she hung the moon. and she pretends not to notice, but she totally does.”

jake groaned and covered his face with one hand. “why did i even ask?”

“you blushed, jake.”

“i did not.”

“you did. like, full color change. red cheeks. heatwave.”

“i loathe you.”

“no, you don’t.”

he shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying this far too much. and then his cheeks flushed again.

“you’re cute when you’re flustered,” she added.

jake swallowed, very aware of how warm his collar suddenly felt. “no, i didn’t.”

“yes, you did.” she stepped closer, eyes narrowing with faux curiosity. “oh my god. that was a real blush. that was actually pink on your face. i’ve never seen it before.”

“i’m sunburnt,” he tried weakly.

“you are not,” she said, too quickly, delighted now. “you’re flushed. oh my god. did i just witness history?”

“could you stop looking at me like i’m a fish that just learned to walk?”

“no. because jake sim—the most annoyingly smug, unfazed boy to ever exist—just blushed. over me.”

jake groaned and turned, walking a few steps ahead like it would help. it didn’t. the grin on her face was practically tattooed into his brain now.

“i’m never going to hear the end of this, am i?”

“oh, never,” she said, jogging to catch up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement.

“you know…” he said slowly, casually, trying to ground himself in words, “if you keep bringing up the blush thing, i will find a way to make you pay.”

she raised a brow. “ooh. scary.”

he grinned. “i’m resourceful.”

“try me.”

jake tilted his head. “you ever been dumped in a haystack?”

she gasped. “you wouldn’t.”

“i didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he said, breaking the silence after a while, her voice quieter now.

yn raised a shoulder. “i’m not.” he looked at her knowingly. “i’m not!” she said again, laughing despite herself. “just didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

“she looked at you.”

“well, maybe i didn’t like that either.”

he laughed again. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are.”

“i must be bored.” jake bumped his shoulder into hers gently. “admit it. you like me.”

she turned toward him. “maybe.” he blinked. that was… not the teasing tone he expected. “maybe?” he echoed.

“maybe,” she said again, and her smile was soft this time. not mischievous. just real.

jake felt his heart clench and swell all at once. yeah. he was falling. and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

yn would remember it for the rest of her life.

“you look like a wet dog,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

“and yet,” he drawled, “you’re still looking.”

she scoffed, turning slightly away, but he leaned closer. there was a hum in the air now. like tension tightening a string, plucked just once and still vibrating.

“admit it,” he murmured. “you like the view.”

“and yet…” he echoed.

he wasn’t teasing anymore. this wasn’t a joke. this was the moment. the one she’d been dreading and craving all at once. she tilted her chin up. just a little. jake leaned in. closer. closer—

yn froze. every muscle in her body turned to stone. the air between her and jake shattered like ice.

“…a ball?” came a second voice, a woman’s this time, her tone hushed and awed. “for all three of them? they’ve never even shown their faces—”

jake blinked. “wait, what?”

“addy!” jake’s voice cut through the rain, sharp and full of confusion. rain smacked his face like a thousand icy needles.

“addy,” he said again, softer now, barely audible over the rain hammering down on the rooftops above them. “what the hell just happened?”

her lips parted, and for a second, he thought she’d finally say something. but she didn’t.

“i mean—was it me? did i do something? say something wrong?”

“no—” she finally gasped, shaking her head. “it’s not you.” she turned away, and he stepped in front of her.

“then what?” he asked, stepping closer. “because five seconds ago i was about to kiss you and i swear to god, i thought you wanted that too.”

her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“i don’t care what your name is,” he said, softer now. “or what you’re hiding. you drive me insane half the time and i still… i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.”

her throat bobbed with a swallow. she looked up at him—so vulnerable, so present, like she was seconds away from falling into him again. but then— her face crumpled. “i can’t.”

jake froze.

“i just—can’t,” she whispered again, voice cracking like thunder behind her words.

he stood there, stunned, the weight of her rejection hitting heavier than the rain. “why?”

she shook her head, eyes glistening, her hand slowly slipping from his grip. “i’m sorry.”

but right now? she couldn’t even smile. because her heart was breaking.

ness blinked, pulling away from jungwon slightly as her eyes landed on yn’s soaked, trembling figure. “princess—? are you—?”

“did you know about the ball?” yn cut in, voice sharp with urgency, pain laced beneath it.

yn stared at her, chest tightening. “you thought i knew?”

“i just assumed—”

“you assumed i would know about a ball thrown by my own family?”

ness stepped forward quickly, reaching for her. “yn—”

ness crouched beside her, voice softening immediately. “yn… i didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“i ran,” she whispered. “i just… ran.”

“from who?”

ness’s face twisted with sympathy. “oh, sweetheart…”

“he must think i’m insane,” yn said, choking on a laugh. “or cruel. or lying.”

“you’re not.”

jungwon finally spoke, quiet but firm. “jake’s not stupid.”

“no,” she agreed. “but he doesn’t deserve this. not the lies. not the mess. not me.”

“don’t say that,” ness said instantly, reaching for her again.

ness was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding hers.

then slowly said. “you’re allowed to be scared. you’re allowed to not have all the answers right now.”

“but i hurt him.”

“then fix it.”

yn looked up. “tell him the truth,” ness said, eyes fierce now. “he deserves that. you both do.”

“i’m terrified,” she admitted.

yn blinked. “what are you doing here?”

jen didn’t answer right away. instead, she tilted her head with all the audacity only an eighteen-year-old princess could carry. “you look like someone shoved you into the lake.”

“i feel worse.”

“where were you?”

“not now, jen,” yn muttered, shutting the door behind her as gently as she could.

“i checked the west gardens,” jen continued. “the chapel, the music room, even that stupid little reading nook you think no one knows about. you weren’t in any of them.”

“i wasn’t hiding.”

“then where were you?”

yn sighed, stepping toward the fireplace to peel off her damp outer robe. her fingers fumbled at the ties. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

yn let her head drop back against the mirror. “jen—” turning slightly, she met her sister’s wide, delighted eyes.

“you didn’t know?” jen asked, brows furrowing. “but i thought—father said he sent out word to all of us two days ago.”

“no one told me.” yn looked down, her voice barely audible. “not father. not cassie. not you. not a single soul thought to mention it to me.”

“i thought ness would’ve—”

“i only found out because i overheard villagers talking about it.” her hands trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms. “right as jake was about to kiss me.”

jen rushed to explain, “i only overheard a few things! i wasn’t told directly or anything—just… in the corridors, you know? something about alliances and signatures and a royal visit—”

“who?” yn whispered.

jen blinked. “what?”

“who am i supposed to be engaged to?”

jen’s lips pursed like she was trying not to say it, as if saying it aloud might make it worse. “…park sunghoon,” she finally muttered. “from the eastern territory. the coastal kingdom.”

“when were they going to tell me?”

“i don’t know. i didn’t think—”

jen flinched at her tone, guilt flashing across her features. “yn, i didn’t mean—”

“an engagement?” yn repeated, stunned. “they expect me to walk into that room next week and be given away like livestock? to someone i’ve never met?”

jen looked down. “i thought you knew…”

jen stood frozen, arms crossed, unsure of whether to leave or stay. the room, usually so calm and filled with candlelight and books and memories, now felt like a prison. a cage about to close.

“let’s go,” jen said suddenly, sharp enough to cut through the storm in yn’s chest.

yn blinked, turning around. “what?”

“to see him,” jen replied, as if it were obvious. “jake.”

yn gawked at her. “are you insane?”

jen shrugged, casually. “probably. but i’ve seen you spiral before and i’ve never seen you like this.”

“i’m not spiraling,” yn lied.

yn scowled. “you’re not helping.”

jen frowned. “and you’re just going to… let that happen?” “do i have a choice?”

“i can’t tell him the truth. not now.”

her breath caught. “what?”

“say it again,” he repeated, stepping forward now, his own hands shaking. “like you mean it.”

her heart clenched. “i love you,” she whispered. “i think i’ve been in love with you from the second you called me an artful goose.”

“you left me in the rain.”

“i know.”

“i couldn’t sleep.”

“i couldn’t breathe.”

jake broke into the kind of grin that made her forget the name of the planet. “well,” he said, stepping impossibly closer. “i love you too.” her breath caught.

“i’ve been going insane, addy.”

“me too.”

“i thought i was too late.”

“you’re not.”

she laughed nervously, breath hitching with nerves. “i was trying to be annoying.”

“you were,” he agreed. “it was adorable.”

she rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed, and he chuckled.

“no.”

jake smiled, and something about it—soft, reverent—made her chest ache. “alright,” he said, stepping even closer. “then let me take my time.” and god, he did.

jake smirked. “there’s more where that came from, sweetheart.”

she shoved his shoulder lightly, but she couldn’t stop smiling. her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. “you’re such a flirt,” she said.

“you love it.”

but still… he wasn’t jake. not with his sun-browned skin and soft tanned hands with thick veins and that nose she wanted to trace with her finger.. and then maybe sit—

“you’re late,” she said softly, eyes unreadable.

sunghoon blinked, startled. “what?”

“this.” she gestured to the looming ballroom. “the marriage. the show. all of it.”

sunghoon’s voice was soft. “i tried. but she said she wasn’t going to marry anyone. said she wanted to study abroad. said it was her duty to put her brain before her heart.”

“i think so,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “but she chose her duty. like we’re both supposed to do now.”

he blinked. “what?”

“we’ll play the part. be the picture of royalty tonight. but we don’t go through with it. not truly. let them see what they want to see. and then—when the time comes—we walk away.”

jake sim had never expected to attend a royal ball.

“look at you,” mira smirked, elbowing his side. “all cleaned up.”

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered, but he smiled anyway.

“jake!” her voice sliced through the quiet night like a blade.

he didn’t turn. she ran to him—her skirts heavy, shoes kicking up grass and dew. the jewels in her hair were loose now, a few strands of hair escaping, cheeks flushed. “jake, please—”

he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “don’t.”

she froze at the sight of him—red-eyed, tear-streaked, lips trembling.

“i told you,” he whispered, voice thick. “i told you i don’t cry.”

yn’s heart broke clean in half. “i know,” she whispered. “i know you don’t.”

“not even for my mother,” he choked. “but for you—” his voice shattered.

“jake—”

“don’t lie again,” he said sharply, voice cracking. “not now.”

“i didn’t lie—”

“you told me you were leaving, addy.” he poked his cheek with his tongue, correcting himself immediately, voice bitter. “sorry princess, i meant yn.”

“you could’ve said something!” he said, voice loud now, but still hoarse. “god, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me—and i believed it. i fucking believed it.”

tears welled in her eyes. “i did mean it,” she said, her voice shaking. “i do love you.”

he looked away, jaw clenched.

he didn’t answer.

“do you know how long i’ve been sneaking into that village just to breathe?” she whispered. “just to feel like me? like a person? not a pawn on someone else’s game board?”

he slowly turned his head, eyes swollen, red. “so you ran there.”

“i ran there every day i could. and that day i found you sitting by the lake—” her breath hitched. “—it was the first day someone saw me. really saw me.”

jake looked at her like she was made of both fire and water.

“i wasn’t going to marry him,” she said. “we… we talked about it. we’re pretending. that was all for show.”

his brow furrowed.

“we planned it,” she explained. “sunghoon—he’s in love with my sister, cassie. and i’m—” she looked at him, stepping forward again, “—i’m in love with you.”

he let out a sharp, wounded breath. “then why do i still feel like i lost you?”

he exhaled shakily, like her words cracked something open in his chest again. “say it again,” he whispered.

“what?” “that you love me.”

she didn’t blink. “i love you,” she said, voice steady now. “i love you, jake sim.”

he shook his head. “don’t say it again. just… don’t lie anymore.”

“i won’t.”

“promise me.”

“i swear.”

she clutched his lapel like she might fall over. “i’m going to fix this.”

jake’s brows furrowed softly, like he didn’t dare believe it.

he blinked at her, almost dazed. “you’d do that?”

he approached slowly, hands in his pockets, trying not to startle them. jungwon looked up first, blinking. “oh—jake,” he said, smiling politely. “didn’t expect—”

“sorry,” jake said, forcing his voice to stay even. “didn’t mean to interrupt. i just…” he glanced at ness. her face paled the second she registered who he was.

“you’re jake,” she said quietly, as if his name was a knife she’d been holding in her throat.

he nodded once. “yeah. i was… wondering if either of you had seen her.” no name needed, everyone knew who he meant.

dear jake,

i love you. i love you so much it hurts to breathe. please don’t hate me. please understand.

i'm so, so sorry.

forever and ever yours only and truly, addy yn

it was colder at night, even in early summer. not in the way decelis had been, with its cool marble halls and formal silences. but a bite in the air that felt more honest. more alive.

“i haven’t,” yn argued weakly, slipping on her gloves.

“yes, you have,” jungwon chimed in with a soft grin, his coat already buttoned up. “you miss being twenty-one and reckless.”

yn had sighed. “don’t we all?”

jungwon chuckled. “that’s why we didn’t bring her.”

jake.

her heart squeezed. “yn,” she corrected, gently.

“i am.”

jake startled. “right. uh. drinks?”

“your strongest,” jungwon said, slipping an arm around ness.

yn smiled faintly. “surprise me.” jake hesitated. then nodded. “i can do that.”

the drinks came quick—jake clearly knew his way around a bar now.

jake leaned against the railing. “didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“didn’t think i’d ever get to explain.”

“you didn’t have to,” he said, eyes on the city lights. “i figured it out eventually. your life was never really yours to begin with.”

she sighed. “still. i’m sorry.” he glanced at her. “i forgave you a long time ago.”

she looked down. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

“i know.”

she smiled faintly. “i still remember that day at the lake.”

jake laughed under his breath. “the almost-kiss?”

“you were going to kiss me.” “i wanted to kiss you.” “you looked so proud of yourself.” “i was proud. i was charming.” “you were insufferable.” “you loved it.”

she laughed. and god, it felt like breathing. silence fell between them then. comfortable. real. jake turned to her fully, finally asking, “so what’s your life like now?”

yn hesitated. “not what i imagined,” she said honestly. “we’re… comfortable. sunghoon and i. we tried to make the best of it. and then our daughter came and she became everything.”

jake nodded. “does he make you laugh?”

she looked at him, slowly. “no. not like you.”

jake smiled, sad and soft. then: “you look good. happy.” “are you?”

he shrugged. “i’ve got a bar. a decent place. friends. a dog named lady layla.”

she blinked. “seriously?”

he smirked. “she’s royalty, obviously.”

“you still know.” “i never forgot.”

jake’s smile was heartbreak and home all at once. “i think it still could.”

it just is.

#reviews #btlo

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ikeu05 · 1 day ago

Text

he’s on my court (unfortunately)

seven ⟢ kiki

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev NO DRUNK DEBATE FREAKS 𝜗𝜚⋆ next dear diary,

nessie 🗯️ i will be updating daily (hopefully) i have a few chapters ready so i think i can … until i can’t LMAO

taglist (check masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @jaysguitarstring @wenomakiluvr @amatariki @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz @rairaiblog @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @yuyita-rosier @haechansbbg @jakeznii @xoenhalover @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @jellymiki @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub @zoe1love @wonietree

#mine #k films #HOMCU #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jake au #enhypen fic #enhypen smau #enhypen social #enhypen social au #jake smau #enhypen texts #jake x reader #jake fake texts

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ikeu05 · 1 day ago

Text

I LOVE THIS REVIEW SO MUCH BAHAHAHAHA

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 crawling back to you , busy being yours to fall for somebody new

pairing commoner! jake x secret princess! reader

featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon of enhypen / ness, an oc (me hehe) / cassendra "cassie" knight (23) — the oldest princess / genevieve "jen" knight (18) — the youngest princess

genre forbidden love, secret identities, fluff, angst, forced marriage, victorian themes

word count 23.5k :O

and within it, she was princess yn of the house of ainsley, second daughter of the king, born under a rare moon and hidden just as quickly from the world.

and it would all begin on the day the boy from nowhere lost his job.

jake sim didn’t ask for much.

“you’re a menace, sim!”

brilliant. he rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to sulk dramatically near the market, as any reasonable man would after being humiliated.

that’s when it happened. something collided with him. soft but fast. like a bird made of elbows and curses.

“bloody hell—” jake stumbled backward, nearly slipping on an apple someone had abandoned on the cobblestones. he blinked as the impact staggered off him.

she blinked at him. and he blinked at her. and for a moment, the market noise faded to background fuzz.

“watch it,” she muttered, brushing past him.

jake opened his mouth. nothing came out. he turned around to follow her steps, mouth still ajar like a stunned trout. “wait—you ran into me!”

the girl glanced over her shoulder. “and i survived. congratulations to us both.”

whoever she was.

the lake behind the chapel ruins wasn’t much—just a quiet stretch of water cradled by willows and old mossy rocks. the kind of place that looked like it had secrets. the kind jake liked.

he picked up a flat stone, tested the weight with a flick of his fingers, and threw.

plop. terrible. the next one skipped once. better. the third skipped thrice. by the fifth, he was starting to forget how annoyed he’d been. until—

“you’re terrible at that,” a voice called from behind.

“you.” he blinked, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “bread thief.”

“unemployed flirt.”

jake huffed a laugh. “well. that’s new. usually i get ‘charismatic’, or ‘charmingly unfortunate’. but alright.”

jake looked down at her, cocking a brow. “you’ve got strong opinions for someone who bodyslammed me this morning.”

“i was in a hurry.”

“to rob another bakery?”

“to feed a fox, actually.” she smirked, grabbing a stone. “not that you deserve to know.”

“i’ve got to admit,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, “i didn’t expect to be blessed with your presence again so soon.”

she didn’t look at him. “don’t get used to it.”

jake grinned. “is that a threat? or a promise?”

she sighed audibly, lips twitching. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, watching her skip a perfect four-stone ripple across the lake, “here you are. voluntarily sitting beside an insufferable man.”

“because i felt bad.”

“oh, don’t do that,” jake groaned dramatically. “pity is so unflattering. at least lie and say you missed my face.”

“i missed the way your hair looks like it lost a duel with a broom.”

he touched his hair, mock-offended. “that’s cruel. it’s got character.”

she stood again, brushing dirt off her skirt, already turning to go. “you talk too much.”

jake stood too, following without being asked. “you’ve got the eyes of someone who’s keeping a thousand secrets.”

she didn’t respond.

“and the mouth of someone who’s never going to tell me any of them.”

still, nothing. “also,” he added cheerfully, “a really pretty nose. has anyone ever told you that?”

she glanced at him sideways. “no. and don’t start.” too late.

“i’m starting,” he said, hands in his pockets now, grinning like a fool. “pretty nose. even prettier mouth. your insults are getting prettier too.”

“stop.”

“can’t.”

“seriously—”

“it’s a condition.”

“well,” she said softly. “i suppose the lake wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

she had laughed once. once. jake had pretended not to notice, but the sound had echoed in his chest like church bells. not loud—just long-lasting.

“…shit,” she whispered, eyes wide.

jake blinked. “wow. harsh review. i thought that story was charming.”

“no,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “no, i didn’t—i lost track of time—”

“what time is it?” he asked, confused, still on the ground.

“i—it’s nearly seven. i’m late. i have to go. i really have to—” she was already backing away, stumbling slightly as she turned on her heel.

“woah, hey, wait—late for what? did the fox schedule a dinner party?”

she didn’t even smirk this time. her face had gone pale, mouth drawn tight. it wasn't just urgency. it was fear. panic, almost.

jake stood quickly, taking a step forward. “at least tell me your name.”

“i can’t.”

jake tilted his head. “can’t? or won’t?”

she didn’t answer.

he tried again, softer this time. “okay. then can i tell you mine?” silence.

“jake,” he said anyway. “jake sim.”

and for a moment, she stood completely still. as if memorising it. as if folding the syllables up and tucking them somewhere deep.

then, she ran. not a polite jog. a full sprint into the fading light.

jake stood there, wind catching the edges of his shirt, watching her disappear like the last streak of sunset. he scratched the back of his neck, feeling oddly… cold.

“jake sim,” he said again to himself. then huffed a laugh. “that’s me. just out here... falling for ghosts.”

“you’re late.”

yn yelped and whirled around, only to find the familiar face she knew she'd see.

“ness,” she breathed, half a laugh, half a wince.

“you said you'd be back by six,” ness hissed, dragging yn inside and quietly shutting the door behind them. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

“just past seven?” yn guessed with a sheepish grin.

ness glared and grabbed a clean cloth, throwing it at her. “try almost half-past. your father asked where you were during the tea sitting. i lied. again.”

“i owe you,” yn muttered, peeling off her coat. “again.”

“you owe me your entire life at this point.”

the servants’ dressing quarters were narrow but hidden behind the massive kitchen halls, where the scent of firewood and cloves clung to every surface. here, everything was quiet. secret. safe.

yn quickly started changing behind the curtain partition. “cassie’s too busy talking about wedding colours to care. and jen will just say i was off with a headache again.”

“you're lucky they cover for you sometimes.”

“not really. no one actually cares where i go. they just don’t want me embarrassing them.”

ness’s gaze softened. she didn’t argue. instead, she helped yn out of her boots, brushing off flecks of grass. “you really shouldn’t run off so often,” she said gently.

“why not? it’s not like anyone notices when i’m here.”

“they do,” ness said softly. “your father does. your mother just… doesn’t like when things slip outside the script.”

yn rolled her eyes. “of course. because heaven forbid i step off the page cassie wrote for me.”

ness gave her a look. “you don’t have to become her. you just have to survive dinner without starting a scandal.”

yn snorted. “not promising anything.”

as ness fastened the buttons at the back of her dress, yn grinned over her shoulder. “speaking of scandal... jungwon’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he?”

ness froze, her fingers lingering on the last button. “he’s just bringing supplies.”

“oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“yn.”

“he flirts like a boy with a crush. you tuck your hair behind your ear when he talks. it’s almost cute.”

ness flushed, swatting her arm. “it’s nothing.”

“liar. i saw him give you his scarf last week when it got chilly.”

“he was just being polite!”

yn smirked. “if that’s what we’re calling flirting now, i’m in trouble.”

ness tried not to smile, but her dimples betrayed her. “hurry,” she said instead, pushing her toward the hall. “go pretend to be respectable.”

genevieve—jen—sat across from her, twirling her fork with all the ease of a youngest child, laughing softly at something the steward had said before dinner.

"where were you today?" her father's voice rang across the table like a verdict. there it was. the question she always heard. not how are you. not what did you do. just where. always where.

"garden," she lied quickly, unfolding her napkin. "by the orchard."

the queen nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. “your cheeks are flushed.”

“it's warm in the corridor.”

“—you.”

she walked straight into a warm chest. again.

“oh my god,” she muttered, stumbling back as familiar hands gently steadied her by the arms. “this is becoming a thing.”

jake looked far too pleased with himself. “you really need to stop bumping into me like this,” he said, eyes glittering in the sunlight. “people are starting to talk.”

she shoved him away. lightly. not convincingly. “are you following me?”

jake raised both hands. “i’ll have you know, i am a man of high moral standing. i was just heading to the well.”

“you live nowhere near the well.”

“…that’s true,” he admitted. “but you live nowhere near the bakery and you were here, so…”

yn narrowed her eyes. “so you were looking for me.”

jake grinned, like he was proud of himself. “i’ve got a mission.”

she crossed her arms. “let me guess. world peace?”

“close,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “figuring out your name.”

yn rolled her eyes and turned to walk again. “you’re wasting your time.”

jake followed with his hands shoved in his pockets. “i don’t think so. it’s like a puzzle. mysterious girl. stolen bread. muddy boots. lies for days. what’s not to obsess over?”

“you sound dangerously unwell.”

he laughed, catching up easily. “you know, last night i was trying to guess. thought maybe it was something sharp. like ravenna.”

she snorted.

“or something delicate. like lily.”

“do i look like a lily to you?”

jake tilted his head. “no. definitely not. you look like trouble.”

she didn’t look at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “that’s not a name.”

“it is now.”

“why does it matter so much?” she asked finally.

she huffed a small laugh.

“and because,” he continued more softly, “if i’m going to fall into this story, i’d at least like to know the name of the main character.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “that’s not your real name.”

she smirked. “it’s enough.”

jake grinned, like he’d just been handed a riddle and a key at the same time.

“alright then, addy,” he said, testing it on his tongue. “can i walk you home?”

“if you can keep up.”

jake let her walk ahead, then caught up easily, bumping shoulders just slightly. “oh,” he added, like it was an afterthought. “and you’re thinking about me now, aren’t you?”

she didn’t respond. but she was. god, she was.

just like that. like she hadn’t been dodging every real question he asked. like she wasn’t the most confusing girl he’d ever met. like he didn’t already want to follow her anywhere.

their first stop was the bakery, which smelled like honey and cinnamon and exactly the kind of thing jake needed after another night on a lumpy mattress in the tavern’s spare room.

“edric,” she called casually as they stepped inside, “be nice. i brought a friend.”

the man behind the counter—mid-fifties, large belly, ruddy cheeks—looked up from kneading dough and narrowed his eyes. “a friend, huh?”

jake straightened, smiling reflexively. “pleasure—”

“don’t bother charming him,” she muttered under her breath. “he’s immune.”

jake turned. “you stole bread for me?”

she scoffed. “i did not.”

“she did,” edric confirmed, deadpan.

“i was testing its crust,” she insisted.

jake looked very pleased. “you stole bread for me,” he said again, like it was proof of something.

she rolled her eyes, tossing a coin on the counter. “one honey twist, and nothing more for this idiot.”

as they left, jake tore into the bread, humming in delight. “that was the best crime ever committed in my honor.”

next was thalia, the old florist who sat outside her shop surrounded by baskets of wild blooms and herbs. she looked up from arranging violets and clucked her tongue when she saw yn.

“you’re late, darling,” she said, brushing petals from her apron. “i saved the purple ones.”

“i wasn’t coming for flowers today.”

“well, too bad. you’re getting some.” thalia handed her a small bunch of lavender and yn accepted it with mock reluctance, then handed one to jake without explanation.

jake stared at the single stalk in his palm. “are you proposing?”

“i’m keeping your hands busy so you don’t touch anything,” she muttered.

“you know everyone,” he said, finally, when they reached the river bridge and paused to catch their breath.

she shrugged. “i’ve been here a long time.”

“but no one knows your name.”

she didn’t answer that. just leaned over the bridge’s stone railing, watching the ripples below.

she shot him a look. “you say that like you know other versions.”

“i’ve met the one who dodges questions and threatens to drown me in a lake.”

she smirked. “that version has her uses.”

he watched her for a beat longer, then joined her at the railing. their shoulders brushed. neither moved away.

“so,” she said after a moment. “what about you? what’s jake sim doing in riverfield?”

he blew out a breath. “that’s a loaded question.”

“i’m not in a rush.”

“i’m sorry.”

jake shook his head. “don’t be. i’m not. just got tired of following his shadow. figured if i had to be broke and aimless, might as well do it somewhere quiet.”

“and here you are. aimless and in excellent company.”

he grinned. “exactly.”

she turned toward him. “and what do you want, jake sim?”

he opened his mouth. closed it. “i’m still figuring that out.”

they stood there for a while longer. then she said, “come on. one more place.”

she pulled herself up onto a low wall and looked out across the trees. jake climbed up beside her.

he watched her more than the view. “did you ever want more?” he asked. “than this?”

she was quiet. then: “i don’t know. i think i just wanted… to be seen. to matter.”

“you do.”

she met his eyes. and for a second, everything in her chest fell silent. he said it so easily. so sincerely. “you’re strange,” she whispered.

jake tilted his head. “and you’re hiding something.”

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

“you can’t prove it.”

“give me time.”

she smiled despite herself.

he grinned like a boy with a secret. “addy,” he said again, deliberately. “i like saying that.”

she lowered her eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“i think i already have.”

“same time tomorrow?” jake asked, half-hopeful, half-sure she’d disappear again.

but she just nodded, already turning away. “if you can find me.” and just like that—she was gone. jake stood there, grinning like a fool, lavender stalk still in his hand.

“you’re going to regret that later,” yn muttered, smirking as she reached over for a bite.

“you could have just taken a piece yourself,” ness muttered without looking up.

“i like yours better,” yn replied sweetly, dropping another berry into her mouth. “it tastes like justice. forbidden, juicy justice.”

“i think i like him,” yn said suddenly, eyes fixed on the window across the stone courtyard, watching the flutter of birds and not the way her heart started speeding.

ness paused mid-bite.

“oh?” ness cocked a brow at her.

yn bit her lip. “it’s stupid. i barely know him. and i haven’t even told him anything real about me.”

“does he know your name yet?”

she gave a small, guilty shrug. “...sort of. i gave him a fake one. i told him it was addy.”

ness raised a brow. “addy?”

“do not judge me, ness. it came out of nowhere.”

“i’m not judging,” ness said, grinning as she stabbed a piece of crust with her fork. “it’s very... you.”

“you’re not helping.”

“well, you’re also not giving me details.”

“that’s because if i do, it’ll feel real. and if it feels real, then it’ll get ruined.”

“or it won’t.”

yn hesitated. then plucked another berry and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “he’s clever. too clever. he’s already suspicious.”

“oh no. someone caught onto the act?”

“no, not the act. me. the real me. i didn’t mean to say so much yesterday, but i… i think i wanted to. and that’s dangerous.”

ness leaned forward, dropping her fork into the empty plate with a soft clink. “or it’s honest. sometimes, it’s scarier being seen than hiding.”

yn glanced at her, heart tugging. “when did you get so wise?”

“ness?” he called out, not seeing yn just yet as she sat tucked against the prep table by the hearth.

ness stood too quickly. “you didn’t have to carry those both at once—”

“they’re not that heavy.”

“you’re sweating.”

“you’re glowing,” he corrected, smiling like an idiot.

“you look tired. did your back hurt again this morning?” he asked quietly.

ness blinked. “how did—?”

“you always stand with your hand pressed to your side when it does.”

“i just worry,” he replied, stepping a bit closer. “you don’t let anyone else worry about you.”

ness’s eyes flicked nervously toward the kitchen entrance. “jungwon—”

“just let me,” he said, soft and honest. “at least once.” and then, very casually, very quietly, like he asked a million times before, he added, “can i have a kiss, darling?”

yn cleared her throat. loudly.

jungwon turned, startled — then horrified. his face lit up in a blaze of red so fast it could’ve set the pie on fire. “princess,” he croaked, eyes wide.

yn raised a hand like she was greeting a bird in a tree. “hi.”

“i—i didn’t see you there, i wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

“oh, no, don’t mind me,” she said sweetly. “i was just over here, eating pie and listening to the single most romantic grain delivery i’ve ever witnessed.”

ness groaned, burying her face in her apron. “i’m going to throw myself into the oven.” jungwon looked like he wanted to follow her in.

“you two are so obvious,” yn teased, grinning now as she slid off the table. “do you know how many times i’ve seen you blush like that from the stables? i thought maybe ness had allergies.”

“your highness—” jungwon tried, face bright red.

“i wasn’t confessing—!”

“you asked for a kiss,” ness muttered into her hands.

“bold,” yn commented.

“brave,” ness added.

“embarrassing,” jungwon mumbled, before finally groaning and rubbing the back of his neck. “i’ll just—go.”

“don’t forget your reward,” yn called, grinning.

and as if that hadn’t already flustered him enough, ness stepped up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek. “next week,” she whispered. “don’t be late.”

“please,” she muttered. “please drop me into the pie.”

yn walked over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, giggling into her shoulder. “you love him.”

“i don’t—shut up.”

“he loves you too. it’s cute.”

“you’re evil.”

“and you’re soft.”

yn smirked. “only if you tell me what it feels like when he brings you sacks of rice like a love letter.”

they leaned in close, and for a while, they were just two girls again. dreaming, scheming, hearts pounding. in love — just quietly.

jake’s eyes flicked toward her, startled. then lit up. “hey—”

“hi,” yn said, sickly sweet, planting herself beside him.

yn smiled wider. “addy,” she said, voice light. “nice to meet you.”

the girl didn’t offer her name in return. instead, she tilted her head. “never seen you around. are you from here?” before yn could answer, another voice cut in. low. tired. familiar.

“…addy?”

the girl blinked. “you two know each other?”

jungwon opened his mouth, clearly seconds away from saying something he absolutely should not—

“walk with me!” yn blurted, grabbing jungwon by the sleeve and dragging him around the corner of the store before anyone could stop them.

“wait, what—”

“i’ll explain, i swear,” she hissed, breath coming fast. “just—two seconds, please.”

yn winced. “shhh!”

“you’re lucky i didn’t say anything back there!”

“i know! that’s why i dragged you back here.”

jungwon looked like he wanted to scream. “does ness know?”

“of course ness knows.”

he stared at her, incredulous. “unbelievable.”

“i’m not doing it to stir drama. i just—i needed space. i needed people to see me like me, not as some perfect royal mannequin everyone expects me to be.”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “so let me get this straight. you’ve been sneaking out for months, hiding your name, and now you’re… what? flirting with jake sim?”

she flushed. “i’m not flirting.”

“really? because i walked up and it looked like you were about to maul him.”

“okay, maybe i was a little jealous.”

jungwon stared again.

then groaned. “you’re unbelievable.”

she tugged on his sleeve, desperate. “please don’t say anything. especially not to him.”

jungwon studied her face for a moment. the plea in her eyes. the way she looked more like herself than she ever had inside the castle. then he sighed. “you owe me.”

“forever.”

they returned around the corner, rejoining the other two. the girl—still looking thoroughly annoyed—raised her brows. “oh,” she said. “you’re back. that was quick.”

jungwon clicked his tongue at her. “wonlin, be nice.”

yn smiled. “just a quick hello. jungwon and i go way back.”

jake looked between them. “you do?”

before yn could answer, the girl–wonlin–cut in again. “that’s odd. we just moved here.”

jake turned toward her. “wait, really?”

jungwon, to his credit, stepped in smoothly. “ah,” he said quickly. “she’s friends with one of our former vendors. we crossed paths a few times. isn’t that right, addy?”

yn nodded vigorously. “exactly. small world.”

wonlin didn’t look convinced. jake seemed puzzled, but shrugged. “well, you’re lucky. jungwon seems great.”

wonlin smiled at jake, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “yea right whatever, i guess he is.”

jake blinked. “weird?”

“you’re quieter than usual.”

he shrugged, then shot her a grin. “maybe i’m just enjoying the scenery.”

she narrowed her eyes. “nice save.”

he bumped her shoulder lightly with his. “maybe i just know better than to keep talking when you’re lost in thought.”

“i’m never lost in thought.”

“you were definitely staring at a squirrel like it had insulted your entire bloodline.”

“i was imagining how i’d kill someone with that pinecone beside it.”

uh-oh. that tone. nothing good ever started with “so…” like that.

“do you think jungwon’s… cool?” he asked, and his voice was way too casual to be actually casual.

yn blinked, caught off-guard. “what?”

jake cleared his throat. “just asking.”

she tilted her head. “cool how?”

jake looked off to the side, like he was studying a particularly fascinating chunk of moss on a wall. “you know. just… cool.”

“…you mean attractive?”

he didn’t answer. which was answer enough. a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “are you jealous?”

jake scoffed, but she didn’t miss the way he rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching slightly. “no.”

“you’re totally jealous.”

“i’m not.”

“you are! oh my god.”

jake groaned, dramatic. “i just asked a question. why does that mean i’m jealous?”

“because you’ve been acting weird ever since we left the shop. and now you’re randomly bringing up jungwon like you’re on trial for something.”

“my favorite cousin?!” she wheezed.

“i panicked!”

“jake,” she said, still laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”

he looked at her, face serious despite the blush creeping up his neck. “so? do you?”

yn paused. then softened. “no,” she said. “i don’t like jungwon. not like that.” he looked relieved, but she wasn’t finished. “he’s in love with my best friend.”

jake blinked. “what?”

“yep. been watching him fall harder every week.”

“but… he didn’t say anything.”

“he doesn’t need to.” she grinned. “it’s so obvious. he looks at her like she hung the moon. and she pretends not to notice, but she totally does.”

jake groaned and covered his face with one hand. “why did i even ask?”

“you blushed, jake.”

“i did not.”

“you did. like, full color change. red cheeks. heatwave.”

“i loathe you.”

“no, you don’t.”

he shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying this far too much. and then his cheeks flushed again.

“you’re cute when you’re flustered,” she added.

jake swallowed, very aware of how warm his collar suddenly felt. “no, i didn’t.”

“yes, you did.” she stepped closer, eyes narrowing with faux curiosity. “oh my god. that was a real blush. that was actually pink on your face. i’ve never seen it before.”

“i’m sunburnt,” he tried weakly.

“you are not,” she said, too quickly, delighted now. “you’re flushed. oh my god. did i just witness history?”

“could you stop looking at me like i’m a fish that just learned to walk?”

“no. because jake sim—the most annoyingly smug, unfazed boy to ever exist—just blushed. over me.”

jake groaned and turned, walking a few steps ahead like it would help. it didn’t. the grin on her face was practically tattooed into his brain now.

“i’m never going to hear the end of this, am i?”

“oh, never,” she said, jogging to catch up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement.

“you know…” he said slowly, casually, trying to ground himself in words, “if you keep bringing up the blush thing, i will find a way to make you pay.”

she raised a brow. “ooh. scary.”

he grinned. “i’m resourceful.”

“try me.”

jake tilted his head. “you ever been dumped in a haystack?”

she gasped. “you wouldn’t.”

“i didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he said, breaking the silence after a while, her voice quieter now.

yn raised a shoulder. “i’m not.” he looked at her knowingly. “i’m not!” she said again, laughing despite herself. “just didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

“she looked at you.”

“well, maybe i didn’t like that either.”

he laughed again. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are.”

“i must be bored.” jake bumped his shoulder into hers gently. “admit it. you like me.”

she turned toward him. “maybe.” he blinked. that was… not the teasing tone he expected. “maybe?” he echoed.

“maybe,” she said again, and her smile was soft this time. not mischievous. just real.

jake felt his heart clench and swell all at once. yeah. he was falling. and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

yn would remember it for the rest of her life.

“you look like a wet dog,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

“and yet,” he drawled, “you’re still looking.”

she scoffed, turning slightly away, but he leaned closer. there was a hum in the air now. like tension tightening a string, plucked just once and still vibrating.

“admit it,” he murmured. “you like the view.”

“and yet…” he echoed.

he wasn’t teasing anymore. this wasn’t a joke. this was the moment. the one she’d been dreading and craving all at once. she tilted her chin up. just a little. jake leaned in. closer. closer—

yn froze. every muscle in her body turned to stone. the air between her and jake shattered like ice.

“…a ball?” came a second voice, a woman’s this time, her tone hushed and awed. “for all three of them? they’ve never even shown their faces—”

jake blinked. “wait, what?”

“addy!” jake’s voice cut through the rain, sharp and full of confusion. rain smacked his face like a thousand icy needles.

“addy,” he said again, softer now, barely audible over the rain hammering down on the rooftops above them. “what the hell just happened?”

her lips parted, and for a second, he thought she’d finally say something. but she didn’t.

“i mean—was it me? did i do something? say something wrong?”

“no—” she finally gasped, shaking her head. “it’s not you.” she turned away, and he stepped in front of her.

“then what?” he asked, stepping closer. “because five seconds ago i was about to kiss you and i swear to god, i thought you wanted that too.”

her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“i don’t care what your name is,” he said, softer now. “or what you’re hiding. you drive me insane half the time and i still… i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.”

her throat bobbed with a swallow. she looked up at him—so vulnerable, so present, like she was seconds away from falling into him again. but then— her face crumpled. “i can’t.”

jake froze.

“i just—can’t,” she whispered again, voice cracking like thunder behind her words.

he stood there, stunned, the weight of her rejection hitting heavier than the rain. “why?”

she shook her head, eyes glistening, her hand slowly slipping from his grip. “i’m sorry.”

but right now? she couldn’t even smile. because her heart was breaking.

ness blinked, pulling away from jungwon slightly as her eyes landed on yn’s soaked, trembling figure. “princess—? are you—?”

“did you know about the ball?” yn cut in, voice sharp with urgency, pain laced beneath it.

yn stared at her, chest tightening. “you thought i knew?”

“i just assumed—”

“you assumed i would know about a ball thrown by my own family?”

ness stepped forward quickly, reaching for her. “yn—”

ness crouched beside her, voice softening immediately. “yn… i didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“i ran,” she whispered. “i just… ran.”

“from who?”

ness’s face twisted with sympathy. “oh, sweetheart…”

“he must think i’m insane,” yn said, choking on a laugh. “or cruel. or lying.”

“you’re not.”

jungwon finally spoke, quiet but firm. “jake’s not stupid.”

“no,” she agreed. “but he doesn’t deserve this. not the lies. not the mess. not me.”

“don’t say that,” ness said instantly, reaching for her again.

ness was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding hers.

then slowly said. “you’re allowed to be scared. you’re allowed to not have all the answers right now.”

“but i hurt him.”

“then fix it.”

yn looked up. “tell him the truth,” ness said, eyes fierce now. “he deserves that. you both do.”

“i’m terrified,” she admitted.

yn blinked. “what are you doing here?”

jen didn’t answer right away. instead, she tilted her head with all the audacity only an eighteen-year-old princess could carry. “you look like someone shoved you into the lake.”

“i feel worse.”

“where were you?”

“not now, jen,” yn muttered, shutting the door behind her as gently as she could.

“i checked the west gardens,” jen continued. “the chapel, the music room, even that stupid little reading nook you think no one knows about. you weren’t in any of them.”

“i wasn’t hiding.”

“then where were you?”

yn sighed, stepping toward the fireplace to peel off her damp outer robe. her fingers fumbled at the ties. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

yn let her head drop back against the mirror. “jen—” turning slightly, she met her sister’s wide, delighted eyes.

“you didn’t know?” jen asked, brows furrowing. “but i thought—father said he sent out word to all of us two days ago.”

“no one told me.” yn looked down, her voice barely audible. “not father. not cassie. not you. not a single soul thought to mention it to me.”

“i thought ness would’ve—”

“i only found out because i overheard villagers talking about it.” her hands trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms. “right as jake was about to kiss me.”

jen rushed to explain, “i only overheard a few things! i wasn’t told directly or anything—just… in the corridors, you know? something about alliances and signatures and a royal visit—”

“who?” yn whispered.

jen blinked. “what?”

“who am i supposed to be engaged to?”

jen’s lips pursed like she was trying not to say it, as if saying it aloud might make it worse. “…park sunghoon,” she finally muttered. “from the eastern territory. the coastal kingdom.”

“when were they going to tell me?”

“i don’t know. i didn’t think—”

jen flinched at her tone, guilt flashing across her features. “yn, i didn’t mean—”

“an engagement?” yn repeated, stunned. “they expect me to walk into that room next week and be given away like livestock? to someone i’ve never met?”

jen looked down. “i thought you knew…”

jen stood frozen, arms crossed, unsure of whether to leave or stay. the room, usually so calm and filled with candlelight and books and memories, now felt like a prison. a cage about to close.

“let’s go,” jen said suddenly, sharp enough to cut through the storm in yn’s chest.

yn blinked, turning around. “what?”

“to see him,” jen replied, as if it were obvious. “jake.”

yn gawked at her. “are you insane?”

jen shrugged, casually. “probably. but i’ve seen you spiral before and i’ve never seen you like this.”

“i’m not spiraling,” yn lied.

yn scowled. “you’re not helping.”

jen frowned. “and you’re just going to… let that happen?” “do i have a choice?”

“i can’t tell him the truth. not now.”

her breath caught. “what?”

“say it again,” he repeated, stepping forward now, his own hands shaking. “like you mean it.”

her heart clenched. “i love you,” she whispered. “i think i’ve been in love with you from the second you called me an artful goose.”

“you left me in the rain.”

“i know.”

“i couldn’t sleep.”

“i couldn’t breathe.”

jake broke into the kind of grin that made her forget the name of the planet. “well,” he said, stepping impossibly closer. “i love you too.” her breath caught.

“i’ve been going insane, addy.”

“me too.”

“i thought i was too late.”

“you’re not.”

she laughed nervously, breath hitching with nerves. “i was trying to be annoying.”

“you were,” he agreed. “it was adorable.”

she rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed, and he chuckled.

“no.”

jake smiled, and something about it—soft, reverent—made her chest ache. “alright,” he said, stepping even closer. “then let me take my time.” and god, he did.

jake smirked. “there’s more where that came from, sweetheart.”

she shoved his shoulder lightly, but she couldn’t stop smiling. her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. “you’re such a flirt,” she said.

“you love it.”

but still… he wasn’t jake. not with his sun-browned skin and soft tanned hands with thick veins and that nose she wanted to trace with her finger.. and then maybe sit—

“you’re late,” she said softly, eyes unreadable.

sunghoon blinked, startled. “what?”

“this.” she gestured to the looming ballroom. “the marriage. the show. all of it.”

sunghoon’s voice was soft. “i tried. but she said she wasn’t going to marry anyone. said she wanted to study abroad. said it was her duty to put her brain before her heart.”

“i think so,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “but she chose her duty. like we’re both supposed to do now.”

he blinked. “what?”

“we’ll play the part. be the picture of royalty tonight. but we don’t go through with it. not truly. let them see what they want to see. and then—when the time comes—we walk away.”

jake sim had never expected to attend a royal ball.

“look at you,” mira smirked, elbowing his side. “all cleaned up.”

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered, but he smiled anyway.

“jake!” her voice sliced through the quiet night like a blade.

he didn’t turn. she ran to him—her skirts heavy, shoes kicking up grass and dew. the jewels in her hair were loose now, a few strands of hair escaping, cheeks flushed. “jake, please—”

he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “don’t.”

she froze at the sight of him—red-eyed, tear-streaked, lips trembling.

“i told you,” he whispered, voice thick. “i told you i don’t cry.”

yn’s heart broke clean in half. “i know,” she whispered. “i know you don’t.”

“not even for my mother,” he choked. “but for you—” his voice shattered.

“jake—”

“don’t lie again,” he said sharply, voice cracking. “not now.”

“i didn’t lie—”

“you told me you were leaving, addy.” he poked his cheek with his tongue, correcting himself immediately, voice bitter. “sorry princess, i meant yn.”

“you could’ve said something!” he said, voice loud now, but still hoarse. “god, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me—and i believed it. i fucking believed it.”

tears welled in her eyes. “i did mean it,” she said, her voice shaking. “i do love you.”

he looked away, jaw clenched.

he didn’t answer.

“do you know how long i’ve been sneaking into that village just to breathe?” she whispered. “just to feel like me? like a person? not a pawn on someone else’s game board?”

he slowly turned his head, eyes swollen, red. “so you ran there.”

“i ran there every day i could. and that day i found you sitting by the lake—” her breath hitched. “—it was the first day someone saw me. really saw me.”

jake looked at her like she was made of both fire and water.

“i wasn’t going to marry him,” she said. “we… we talked about it. we’re pretending. that was all for show.”

his brow furrowed.

“we planned it,” she explained. “sunghoon—he’s in love with my sister, cassie. and i’m—” she looked at him, stepping forward again, “—i’m in love with you.”

he let out a sharp, wounded breath. “then why do i still feel like i lost you?”

he exhaled shakily, like her words cracked something open in his chest again. “say it again,” he whispered.

“what?” “that you love me.”

she didn’t blink. “i love you,” she said, voice steady now. “i love you, jake sim.”

he shook his head. “don’t say it again. just… don’t lie anymore.”

“i won’t.”

“promise me.”

“i swear.”

she clutched his lapel like she might fall over. “i’m going to fix this.”

jake’s brows furrowed softly, like he didn’t dare believe it.

he blinked at her, almost dazed. “you’d do that?”

he approached slowly, hands in his pockets, trying not to startle them. jungwon looked up first, blinking. “oh—jake,” he said, smiling politely. “didn’t expect—”

“sorry,” jake said, forcing his voice to stay even. “didn’t mean to interrupt. i just…” he glanced at ness. her face paled the second she registered who he was.

“you’re jake,” she said quietly, as if his name was a knife she’d been holding in her throat.

he nodded once. “yeah. i was… wondering if either of you had seen her.” no name needed, everyone knew who he meant.

dear jake,

i love you. i love you so much it hurts to breathe. please don’t hate me. please understand.

i'm so, so sorry.

forever and ever yours only and truly, addy yn

it was colder at night, even in early summer. not in the way decelis had been, with its cool marble halls and formal silences. but a bite in the air that felt more honest. more alive.

“i haven’t,” yn argued weakly, slipping on her gloves.

“yes, you have,” jungwon chimed in with a soft grin, his coat already buttoned up. “you miss being twenty-one and reckless.”

yn had sighed. “don’t we all?”

jungwon chuckled. “that’s why we didn’t bring her.”

jake.

her heart squeezed. “yn,” she corrected, gently.

“i am.”

jake startled. “right. uh. drinks?”

“your strongest,” jungwon said, slipping an arm around ness.

yn smiled faintly. “surprise me.” jake hesitated. then nodded. “i can do that.”

the drinks came quick—jake clearly knew his way around a bar now.

jake leaned against the railing. “didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“didn’t think i’d ever get to explain.”

“you didn’t have to,” he said, eyes on the city lights. “i figured it out eventually. your life was never really yours to begin with.”

she sighed. “still. i’m sorry.” he glanced at her. “i forgave you a long time ago.”

she looked down. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

“i know.”

she smiled faintly. “i still remember that day at the lake.”

jake laughed under his breath. “the almost-kiss?”

“you were going to kiss me.” “i wanted to kiss you.” “you looked so proud of yourself.” “i was proud. i was charming.” “you were insufferable.” “you loved it.”

she laughed. and god, it felt like breathing. silence fell between them then. comfortable. real. jake turned to her fully, finally asking, “so what’s your life like now?”

yn hesitated. “not what i imagined,” she said honestly. “we’re… comfortable. sunghoon and i. we tried to make the best of it. and then our daughter came and she became everything.”

jake nodded. “does he make you laugh?”

she looked at him, slowly. “no. not like you.”

jake smiled, sad and soft. then: “you look good. happy.” “are you?”

he shrugged. “i’ve got a bar. a decent place. friends. a dog named lady layla.”

she blinked. “seriously?”

he smirked. “she’s royalty, obviously.”

“you still know.” “i never forgot.”

jake’s smile was heartbreak and home all at once. “i think it still could.”

it just is.

#btlo #reviews #LMAO I LOVE THIS

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ikeu05 · 2 days ago

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tryna reclaim being the no.1 jake stan HAHAHAHAH (i just saw this in my gallery and i think i look nice ??? so yea idk (gonna delete this very soon HAHAHAH))

#face reveal????#jakeysim #i ❤️ jake sim #man i want my lip ring bad she was a baddie

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ikeu05 · 2 days ago

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as an editor… i SCREAMed

JSJFKDOSLFNXOLWLQE :3

#niki #enhypen #edit 😜

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ikeu05 · 2 days ago

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he’s on my court (unfortunately)

six ⟢ NO DRUNK DEBATE FREAKS — wc: 1.1k

yn tucks her phone into her back pocket, already halfway down the hallway to danis dormroom. she knocks twice, her signature knock so dani knows it’s her. the door opens to a distressed dani, slipping on some sunglasses and popping a gum into her mouth. “let’s get this fucking over with” she mumble, locking her door.

they walk towards danis car, her steps suddenly hurried when she sees a faint outline of some national level debate king, sprawled over her mazda bonnet. his arms were spread out, his back pressed against the entire front of her car. “WHAT THE ACTUALLY FUCK PARK” dani yells, her voice ringing throughout the half empty parking lot, her glasses were ripped off the bridge of her nose, face contorting in anger – no FURY.

jay’s head shoots up from the laid back position he was in, his lips curling upward at the sight of her. “daniiiiiii” he says, rather sickeningly, yn can only a mutter a soft ‘lord please help me’ under her breath.

it was tense. the air was suffocating, mostly because the windows were up, the ac just starting up and a certain park jay was in the back seat. yn can’t even remember how she managed to convince dani to even let him see the interiors of her car, let alone have him sitting in her car.

her arms were crossed as she looked at yn, a head shorter than the man she tried to manoeuvre in her arms. “dani,” yn tried, breathless from half-carrying, half-dragging the man in question toward the curb. “please. he’s drunk, he’s dazed and he’s calling your car sexy.”

jay, draped dramatically over the hood of dani’s slightly dented mazda like it was the cover of a budget car magazine, let out a dreamy sigh. “leather seats,” he whispered. “mmmm. luxurrrrious.”

dani made a face at him, physically holding herself back from fighting his half conscious self. “let him sit in the back,” yn tried to reason, “just until we pick up taki. then we dump him at his dorm and never speak of this again.”

jay blinked up at them, eyes hazy but hopeful. “can i sit in the middle seat? so i can… feel the love equally?”

dani squeezed her eyes shut, her crossed arms vibrating from barely restrained anger, as she muttered a soft but sharp “maldita gallina cobarde, siempre arruinando mi vida (stupid chicken always making my life miserable)”. she looked ready to commit vehicular manslaughter but instead, settled down in the drivers seat.

yn sighed in relief, opening the door for him “get in you pink shoed menace.”

five minutes later, the mazda was rolling through the city, with jay mumbling something about the moon being judgy, dani gripping the steering and yn PRAYING that he was not about to throw up.

“dani,” jay slurred, poking her headrest, yn felt her heart drop at his playful tone. “did you know your car smells like… ambition?”

“touch my headrest again and you’ll be smelling the pavement,” she snapped, voice soft but scary.

yn laughed nervously from the passenger seat, sending a quick text to intak

“ur ass better be outside the library, we are NOT waiting more than 5 seconds for you.”

by the time they arrived at the mysterious library intak claimed to be studying at—“the engineering archives, who even goes there?”—jay had moved on to talking to the GPS, his head peeking into the front.

“you always believe in me,” he told it earnestly. “unlike dani. she yells.”

intak opened the door, took one look at the backseat and recoiled like someone had thrown spoiled milk at him. “WHY is jay in this car? why is he singing? why does he smell like tequila and sorrow?”

“ask yn,” dani said flatly. “apparently we’re a FREE uber service for drunk losers now.”

jay perked up. “you’re here. my taki taki rumba!—intak made a face, telling him to never EVER say that to anyone, for his own wellbeing—we’re all besties. road trip?”

“i’d rather walk into traffic,” intak muttered, scooting in as far from jay as possible.

the car ride back was filled with jay crooning off-key to the radio, dani muttering death threats under her breath, and yn shifting in her seat, scared she was on the verge of losing her car rides with dani privilege.

“he just said i have eyes browner and softer than the teddy bears in jakes room, do i run?” intak rambled softly to yn, peering from her window side. yn just shushed him, shooing him away with her hand.

“i’m not gonna throw up,” jay declared suddenly.

and then he did. he almost did.

“OH MY GOD,” dani screeched, pulling over like the mazda was on fire. “that’s it. he walks.”

jay clutched his chest dramatically. “it was barely nothing, just a gag dani ure so series (he meant serious).”

intak opened the window and stuck his head out, almost as if to say he needed help.

after yn cleaned up the crime scene with a handful of emergency napkins and a glare strong enough to peel paint, they resumed the drive in sullen silence.

jay finally went quiet, slumped against the door, looking surprisingly human for once.

“i’m… sorry,” he mumbled, voice low and weirdly sincere. “you didn’t have to do all this. i just—kinda messed up tonight.”

dani glanced at him through the mirror. “you threw up on my floormat, called my car hot, and tried to high-five a tree. you definitely messed up.”

jay smiled crookedly. “still… thanks for not leaving me there.”

and for a second, the car was quiet. not awkward, just… soft.

then jay added, “your seatbelt smells like lavender. that’s so intimate.”

“never mind,” dani hissed. “we’re pushing him out at the next red light.”

as dani pulled into campus, jay caught a hold of his phone, opening jake’s chat.

dani parallel parked with her usual rage-fueled precision. as she clicked her seatbelt off, she glared at jake and heeseung, “okay. out. now. take him.”

jake and heeseung were already standing at the curb, looking like parents summoned to school because their child tried to eat glue again.

“bro,” jake said, eyes wide. “you good?”

jay leaned out of the car, hair a mess, eyes glassy, face pure regret. “i saw my soul tonight. it was pink.”

“what does that mean?” heeseung whispered, genuinely disturbed.

jay stumbled into jake’s side. “i embarrassed myself.”

“you threw up, tried to serenade dani’s leather seats and asked Intak if his name was real,” yn deadpanned, watching in the distance. “you’re an embarrassment legend.”

“let’s get you water.” jake said, glaring irritatedly at yn, who just stuck her tongue out at him.

as heeseung and jake helped him inside, jay paused, looking back at dani through the window. “tell your car i’ll never forget her.”

the door slammed shut.

dani slumped in her seat. “i’m getting a new license plate. ine that says NO DRUNK DEBATE FREAKS.”

to that, jay just smiled bashfully, tripping over his feet.

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev #CourtDaddy 🫦 𝜗𝜚⋆ next kiki

nessie 🗯️ posting this from my class (finally started attending college again yipeeee)

taglist (check masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz @rairaiblog @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @yuyita-rosier @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @jellymiki -1 @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub @wenomakiluvr @jaysguitarstring @zoe1love @wonietree

#mine #enhypen #HOMCU #enhypen x reader #k films #jake au #enhypen fic #enhypen smau #enhypen social #enhypen social au #jake x reader #jake smau #enhypen texts #jake fake texts

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ikeu05 · 3 days ago

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nvm im so stupid 😭😭😭 i forgot u cant see who voted for what … just comment/send an ask if u wanna be a part of the taglist LMAO

new series announcement coming soon 🤭 it’s ot7 is all i’ll share for now kekke if anyone is interested in being on the taglist for when i post the teaser pls lmk !!!

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ikeu05 · 3 days ago

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new series announcement coming soon 🤭 it’s ot7 is all i’ll share for now kekke if anyone is interested in being on the taglist for when i post the teaser pls lmk !!!

#enhypen #— taglist

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ikeu05 · 3 days ago

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he’s on my court (unfortunately)

five ⟢ #CourtDaddy 🫦

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev doughnut thief 𝜗𝜚⋆ next NO DRUNK DEBATE FREAKS

nessie 🗯️ will be tagging everyone from the 2baddies1jake taglist (rlly sorry if you don’t want to be tagged just lmk!)

taglist (check masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @jellymiki @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub @wenomakiluvr @jaysguitarstring @zoe1love @wonietree @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz

#mine #k films #HOMCU #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jake au #enhypen fic #enhypen smau #enhypen social #enhypen social au #jake smau #jake x reader #jake fake texts #enhypen texts

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ikeu05 · 4 days ago

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he’s on my court (unfortunately)

four ⟢ doughnut thief

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev heainrevebknwoit 𝜗𝜚⋆ next #CourtDaddy 🫦

taglist (check my masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @jaysguitarstring @wenomakiluvr @amatariki @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz

#mine #enhypen #enhypen x reader #k films #HOMCU #jake au #enhypen fic #enhypen smau #enhypen social #enhypen social au #jake x reader #jake smau #enhypen texts #jake fake texts

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ikeu05 · 5 days ago

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𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 crawling back to you , busy being yours to fall for somebody new

pairing commoner! jake x secret princess! reader

featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon of enhypen / ness, an oc (me hehe) / cassendra "cassie" knight (23) — the oldest princess / genevieve "jen" knight (18) — the youngest princess

genre forbidden love, secret identities, fluff, angst, forced marriage, victorian themes

word count 23.5k :O

and within it, she was princess yn of the house of ainsley, second daughter of the king, born under a rare moon and hidden just as quickly from the world.

and it would all begin on the day the boy from nowhere lost his job.

jake sim didn’t ask for much.

“you’re a menace, sim!”

brilliant. he rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to sulk dramatically near the market, as any reasonable man would after being humiliated.

that’s when it happened. something collided with him. soft but fast. like a bird made of elbows and curses.

“bloody hell—” jake stumbled backward, nearly slipping on an apple someone had abandoned on the cobblestones. he blinked as the impact staggered off him.

she blinked at him. and he blinked at her. and for a moment, the market noise faded to background fuzz.

“watch it,” she muttered, brushing past him.

jake opened his mouth. nothing came out. he turned around to follow her steps, mouth still ajar like a stunned trout. “wait—you ran into me!”

the girl glanced over her shoulder. “and i survived. congratulations to us both.”

whoever she was.

the lake behind the chapel ruins wasn’t much—just a quiet stretch of water cradled by willows and old mossy rocks. the kind of place that looked like it had secrets. the kind jake liked.

he picked up a flat stone, tested the weight with a flick of his fingers, and threw.

plop. terrible. the next one skipped once. better. the third skipped thrice. by the fifth, he was starting to forget how annoyed he’d been. until—

“you’re terrible at that,” a voice called from behind.

“you.” he blinked, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “bread thief.”

“unemployed flirt.”

jake huffed a laugh. “well. that’s new. usually i get ‘charismatic’, or ‘charmingly unfortunate’. but alright.”

jake looked down at her, cocking a brow. “you’ve got strong opinions for someone who bodyslammed me this morning.”

“i was in a hurry.”

“to rob another bakery?”

“to feed a fox, actually.” she smirked, grabbing a stone. “not that you deserve to know.”

“i’ve got to admit,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, “i didn’t expect to be blessed with your presence again so soon.”

she didn’t look at him. “don’t get used to it.”

jake grinned. “is that a threat? or a promise?”

she sighed audibly, lips twitching. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, watching her skip a perfect four-stone ripple across the lake, “here you are. voluntarily sitting beside an insufferable man.”

“because i felt bad.”

“oh, don’t do that,” jake groaned dramatically. “pity is so unflattering. at least lie and say you missed my face.”

“i missed the way your hair looks like it lost a duel with a broom.”

he touched his hair, mock-offended. “that’s cruel. it’s got character.”

she stood again, brushing dirt off her skirt, already turning to go. “you talk too much.”

jake stood too, following without being asked. “you’ve got the eyes of someone who’s keeping a thousand secrets.”

she didn’t respond.

“and the mouth of someone who’s never going to tell me any of them.”

still, nothing. “also,” he added cheerfully, “a really pretty nose. has anyone ever told you that?”

she glanced at him sideways. “no. and don’t start.” too late.

“i’m starting,” he said, hands in his pockets now, grinning like a fool. “pretty nose. even prettier mouth. your insults are getting prettier too.”

“stop.”

“can’t.”

“seriously—”

“it’s a condition.”

“well,” she said softly. “i suppose the lake wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

she had laughed once. once. jake had pretended not to notice, but the sound had echoed in his chest like church bells. not loud—just long-lasting.

“…shit,” she whispered, eyes wide.

jake blinked. “wow. harsh review. i thought that story was charming.”

“no,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “no, i didn’t—i lost track of time—”

“what time is it?” he asked, confused, still on the ground.

“i—it’s nearly seven. i’m late. i have to go. i really have to—” she was already backing away, stumbling slightly as she turned on her heel.

“woah, hey, wait—late for what? did the fox schedule a dinner party?”

she didn’t even smirk this time. her face had gone pale, mouth drawn tight. it wasn't just urgency. it was fear. panic, almost.

jake stood quickly, taking a step forward. “at least tell me your name.”

“i can’t.”

jake tilted his head. “can’t? or won’t?”

she didn’t answer.

he tried again, softer this time. “okay. then can i tell you mine?” silence.

“jake,” he said anyway. “jake sim.”

and for a moment, she stood completely still. as if memorising it. as if folding the syllables up and tucking them somewhere deep.

then, she ran. not a polite jog. a full sprint into the fading light.

jake stood there, wind catching the edges of his shirt, watching her disappear like the last streak of sunset. he scratched the back of his neck, feeling oddly… cold.

“jake sim,” he said again to himself. then huffed a laugh. “that’s me. just out here... falling for ghosts.”

“you’re late.”

yn yelped and whirled around, only to find the familiar face she knew she'd see.

“ness,” she breathed, half a laugh, half a wince.

“you said you'd be back by six,” ness hissed, dragging yn inside and quietly shutting the door behind them. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

“just past seven?” yn guessed with a sheepish grin.

ness glared and grabbed a clean cloth, throwing it at her. “try almost half-past. your father asked where you were during the tea sitting. i lied. again.”

“i owe you,” yn muttered, peeling off her coat. “again.”

“you owe me your entire life at this point.”

the servants’ dressing quarters were narrow but hidden behind the massive kitchen halls, where the scent of firewood and cloves clung to every surface. here, everything was quiet. secret. safe.

yn quickly started changing behind the curtain partition. “cassie’s too busy talking about wedding colours to care. and jen will just say i was off with a headache again.”

“you're lucky they cover for you sometimes.”

“not really. no one actually cares where i go. they just don’t want me embarrassing them.”

ness’s gaze softened. she didn’t argue. instead, she helped yn out of her boots, brushing off flecks of grass. “you really shouldn’t run off so often,” she said gently.

“why not? it’s not like anyone notices when i’m here.”

“they do,” ness said softly. “your father does. your mother just… doesn’t like when things slip outside the script.”

yn rolled her eyes. “of course. because heaven forbid i step off the page cassie wrote for me.”

ness gave her a look. “you don’t have to become her. you just have to survive dinner without starting a scandal.”

yn snorted. “not promising anything.”

as ness fastened the buttons at the back of her dress, yn grinned over her shoulder. “speaking of scandal... jungwon’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he?”

ness froze, her fingers lingering on the last button. “he’s just bringing supplies.”

“oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“yn.”

“he flirts like a boy with a crush. you tuck your hair behind your ear when he talks. it’s almost cute.”

ness flushed, swatting her arm. “it’s nothing.”

“liar. i saw him give you his scarf last week when it got chilly.”

“he was just being polite!”

yn smirked. “if that’s what we’re calling flirting now, i’m in trouble.”

ness tried not to smile, but her dimples betrayed her. “hurry,” she said instead, pushing her toward the hall. “go pretend to be respectable.”

genevieve—jen—sat across from her, twirling her fork with all the ease of a youngest child, laughing softly at something the steward had said before dinner.

"where were you today?" her father's voice rang across the table like a verdict. there it was. the question she always heard. not how are you. not what did you do. just where. always where.

"garden," she lied quickly, unfolding her napkin. "by the orchard."

the queen nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. “your cheeks are flushed.”

“it's warm in the corridor.”

“—you.”

she walked straight into a warm chest. again.

“oh my god,” she muttered, stumbling back as familiar hands gently steadied her by the arms. “this is becoming a thing.”

jake looked far too pleased with himself. “you really need to stop bumping into me like this,” he said, eyes glittering in the sunlight. “people are starting to talk.”

she shoved him away. lightly. not convincingly. “are you following me?”

jake raised both hands. “i’ll have you know, i am a man of high moral standing. i was just heading to the well.”

“you live nowhere near the well.”

“…that’s true,” he admitted. “but you live nowhere near the bakery and you were here, so…”

yn narrowed her eyes. “so you were looking for me.”

jake grinned, like he was proud of himself. “i’ve got a mission.”

she crossed her arms. “let me guess. world peace?”

“close,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “figuring out your name.”

yn rolled her eyes and turned to walk again. “you’re wasting your time.”

jake followed with his hands shoved in his pockets. “i don’t think so. it’s like a puzzle. mysterious girl. stolen bread. muddy boots. lies for days. what’s not to obsess over?”

“you sound dangerously unwell.”

he laughed, catching up easily. “you know, last night i was trying to guess. thought maybe it was something sharp. like ravenna.”

she snorted.

“or something delicate. like lily.”

“do i look like a lily to you?”

jake tilted his head. “no. definitely not. you look like trouble.”

she didn’t look at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “that’s not a name.”

“it is now.”

“why does it matter so much?” she asked finally.

she huffed a small laugh.

“and because,” he continued more softly, “if i’m going to fall into this story, i’d at least like to know the name of the main character.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “that’s not your real name.”

she smirked. “it’s enough.”

jake grinned, like he’d just been handed a riddle and a key at the same time.

“alright then, addy,” he said, testing it on his tongue. “can i walk you home?”

“if you can keep up.”

jake let her walk ahead, then caught up easily, bumping shoulders just slightly. “oh,” he added, like it was an afterthought. “and you’re thinking about me now, aren’t you?”

she didn’t respond. but she was. god, she was.

just like that. like she hadn’t been dodging every real question he asked. like she wasn’t the most confusing girl he’d ever met. like he didn’t already want to follow her anywhere.

their first stop was the bakery, which smelled like honey and cinnamon and exactly the kind of thing jake needed after another night on a lumpy mattress in the tavern’s spare room.

“edric,” she called casually as they stepped inside, “be nice. i brought a friend.”

the man behind the counter—mid-fifties, large belly, ruddy cheeks—looked up from kneading dough and narrowed his eyes. “a friend, huh?”

jake straightened, smiling reflexively. “pleasure—”

“don’t bother charming him,” she muttered under her breath. “he’s immune.”

jake turned. “you stole bread for me?”

she scoffed. “i did not.”

“she did,” edric confirmed, deadpan.

“i was testing its crust,” she insisted.

jake looked very pleased. “you stole bread for me,” he said again, like it was proof of something.

she rolled her eyes, tossing a coin on the counter. “one honey twist, and nothing more for this idiot.”

as they left, jake tore into the bread, humming in delight. “that was the best crime ever committed in my honor.”

next was thalia, the old florist who sat outside her shop surrounded by baskets of wild blooms and herbs. she looked up from arranging violets and clucked her tongue when she saw yn.

“you’re late, darling,” she said, brushing petals from her apron. “i saved the purple ones.”

“i wasn’t coming for flowers today.”

“well, too bad. you’re getting some.” thalia handed her a small bunch of lavender and yn accepted it with mock reluctance, then handed one to jake without explanation.

jake stared at the single stalk in his palm. “are you proposing?”

“i’m keeping your hands busy so you don’t touch anything,” she muttered.

“you know everyone,” he said, finally, when they reached the river bridge and paused to catch their breath.

she shrugged. “i’ve been here a long time.”

“but no one knows your name.”

she didn’t answer that. just leaned over the bridge’s stone railing, watching the ripples below.

she shot him a look. “you say that like you know other versions.”

“i’ve met the one who dodges questions and threatens to drown me in a lake.”

she smirked. “that version has her uses.”

he watched her for a beat longer, then joined her at the railing. their shoulders brushed. neither moved away.

“so,” she said after a moment. “what about you? what’s jake sim doing in riverfield?”

he blew out a breath. “that’s a loaded question.”

“i’m not in a rush.”

“i’m sorry.”

jake shook his head. “don’t be. i’m not. just got tired of following his shadow. figured if i had to be broke and aimless, might as well do it somewhere quiet.”

“and here you are. aimless and in excellent company.”

he grinned. “exactly.”

she turned toward him. “and what do you want, jake sim?”

he opened his mouth. closed it. “i’m still figuring that out.”

they stood there for a while longer. then she said, “come on. one more place.”

she pulled herself up onto a low wall and looked out across the trees. jake climbed up beside her.

he watched her more than the view. “did you ever want more?” he asked. “than this?”

she was quiet. then: “i don’t know. i think i just wanted… to be seen. to matter.”

“you do.”

she met his eyes. and for a second, everything in her chest fell silent. he said it so easily. so sincerely. “you’re strange,” she whispered.

jake tilted his head. “and you’re hiding something.”

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

“you can’t prove it.”

“give me time.”

she smiled despite herself.

he grinned like a boy with a secret. “addy,” he said again, deliberately. “i like saying that.”

she lowered her eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“i think i already have.”

“same time tomorrow?” jake asked, half-hopeful, half-sure she’d disappear again.

but she just nodded, already turning away. “if you can find me.” and just like that—she was gone. jake stood there, grinning like a fool, lavender stalk still in his hand.

“you’re going to regret that later,” yn muttered, smirking as she reached over for a bite.

“you could have just taken a piece yourself,” ness muttered without looking up.

“i like yours better,” yn replied sweetly, dropping another berry into her mouth. “it tastes like justice. forbidden, juicy justice.”

“i think i like him,” yn said suddenly, eyes fixed on the window across the stone courtyard, watching the flutter of birds and not the way her heart started speeding.

ness paused mid-bite.

“oh?” ness cocked a brow at her.

yn bit her lip. “it’s stupid. i barely know him. and i haven’t even told him anything real about me.”

“does he know your name yet?”

she gave a small, guilty shrug. “...sort of. i gave him a fake one. i told him it was addy.”

ness raised a brow. “addy?”

“do not judge me, ness. it came out of nowhere.”

“i’m not judging,” ness said, grinning as she stabbed a piece of crust with her fork. “it’s very... you.”

“you’re not helping.”

“well, you’re also not giving me details.”

“that’s because if i do, it’ll feel real. and if it feels real, then it’ll get ruined.”

“or it won’t.”

yn hesitated. then plucked another berry and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “he’s clever. too clever. he’s already suspicious.”

“oh no. someone caught onto the act?”

“no, not the act. me. the real me. i didn’t mean to say so much yesterday, but i… i think i wanted to. and that’s dangerous.”

ness leaned forward, dropping her fork into the empty plate with a soft clink. “or it’s honest. sometimes, it’s scarier being seen than hiding.”

yn glanced at her, heart tugging. “when did you get so wise?”

“ness?” he called out, not seeing yn just yet as she sat tucked against the prep table by the hearth.

ness stood too quickly. “you didn’t have to carry those both at once—”

“they’re not that heavy.”

“you’re sweating.”

“you’re glowing,” he corrected, smiling like an idiot.

“you look tired. did your back hurt again this morning?” he asked quietly.

ness blinked. “how did—?”

“you always stand with your hand pressed to your side when it does.”

“i just worry,” he replied, stepping a bit closer. “you don’t let anyone else worry about you.”

ness’s eyes flicked nervously toward the kitchen entrance. “jungwon—”

“just let me,” he said, soft and honest. “at least once.” and then, very casually, very quietly, like he asked a million times before, he added, “can i have a kiss, darling?”

yn cleared her throat. loudly.

jungwon turned, startled — then horrified. his face lit up in a blaze of red so fast it could’ve set the pie on fire. “princess,” he croaked, eyes wide.

yn raised a hand like she was greeting a bird in a tree. “hi.”

“i—i didn’t see you there, i wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

“oh, no, don’t mind me,” she said sweetly. “i was just over here, eating pie and listening to the single most romantic grain delivery i’ve ever witnessed.”

ness groaned, burying her face in her apron. “i’m going to throw myself into the oven.” jungwon looked like he wanted to follow her in.

“you two are so obvious,” yn teased, grinning now as she slid off the table. “do you know how many times i’ve seen you blush like that from the stables? i thought maybe ness had allergies.”

“your highness—” jungwon tried, face bright red.

“i wasn’t confessing—!”

“you asked for a kiss,” ness muttered into her hands.

“bold,” yn commented.

“brave,” ness added.

“embarrassing,” jungwon mumbled, before finally groaning and rubbing the back of his neck. “i’ll just—go.”

“don’t forget your reward,” yn called, grinning.

and as if that hadn’t already flustered him enough, ness stepped up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek. “next week,” she whispered. “don’t be late.”

“please,” she muttered. “please drop me into the pie.”

yn walked over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, giggling into her shoulder. “you love him.”

“i don’t—shut up.”

“he loves you too. it’s cute.”

“you’re evil.”

“and you’re soft.”

yn smirked. “only if you tell me what it feels like when he brings you sacks of rice like a love letter.”

they leaned in close, and for a while, they were just two girls again. dreaming, scheming, hearts pounding. in love — just quietly.

jake’s eyes flicked toward her, startled. then lit up. “hey—”

“hi,” yn said, sickly sweet, planting herself beside him.

yn smiled wider. “addy,” she said, voice light. “nice to meet you.”

the girl didn’t offer her name in return. instead, she tilted her head. “never seen you around. are you from here?” before yn could answer, another voice cut in. low. tired. familiar.

“…addy?”

the girl blinked. “you two know each other?”

jungwon opened his mouth, clearly seconds away from saying something he absolutely should not—

“walk with me!” yn blurted, grabbing jungwon by the sleeve and dragging him around the corner of the store before anyone could stop them.

“wait, what—”

“i’ll explain, i swear,” she hissed, breath coming fast. “just—two seconds, please.”

yn winced. “shhh!”

“you’re lucky i didn’t say anything back there!”

“i know! that’s why i dragged you back here.”

jungwon looked like he wanted to scream. “does ness know?”

“of course ness knows.”

he stared at her, incredulous. “unbelievable.”

“i’m not doing it to stir drama. i just—i needed space. i needed people to see me like me, not as some perfect royal mannequin everyone expects me to be.”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “so let me get this straight. you’ve been sneaking out for months, hiding your name, and now you’re… what? flirting with jake sim?”

she flushed. “i’m not flirting.”

“really? because i walked up and it looked like you were about to maul him.”

“okay, maybe i was a little jealous.”

jungwon stared again.

then groaned. “you’re unbelievable.”

she tugged on his sleeve, desperate. “please don’t say anything. especially not to him.”

jungwon studied her face for a moment. the plea in her eyes. the way she looked more like herself than she ever had inside the castle. then he sighed. “you owe me.”

“forever.”

they returned around the corner, rejoining the other two. the girl—still looking thoroughly annoyed—raised her brows. “oh,” she said. “you’re back. that was quick.”

jungwon clicked his tongue at her. “wonlin, be nice.”

yn smiled. “just a quick hello. jungwon and i go way back.”

jake looked between them. “you do?”

before yn could answer, the girl–wonlin–cut in again. “that’s odd. we just moved here.”

jake turned toward her. “wait, really?”

jungwon, to his credit, stepped in smoothly. “ah,” he said quickly. “she’s friends with one of our former vendors. we crossed paths a few times. isn’t that right, addy?”

yn nodded vigorously. “exactly. small world.”

wonlin didn’t look convinced. jake seemed puzzled, but shrugged. “well, you’re lucky. jungwon seems great.”

wonlin smiled at jake, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “yea right whatever, i guess he is.”

jake blinked. “weird?”

“you’re quieter than usual.”

he shrugged, then shot her a grin. “maybe i’m just enjoying the scenery.”

she narrowed her eyes. “nice save.”

he bumped her shoulder lightly with his. “maybe i just know better than to keep talking when you’re lost in thought.”

“i’m never lost in thought.”

“you were definitely staring at a squirrel like it had insulted your entire bloodline.”

“i was imagining how i’d kill someone with that pinecone beside it.”

uh-oh. that tone. nothing good ever started with “so…” like that.

“do you think jungwon’s… cool?” he asked, and his voice was way too casual to be actually casual.

yn blinked, caught off-guard. “what?”

jake cleared his throat. “just asking.”

she tilted her head. “cool how?”

jake looked off to the side, like he was studying a particularly fascinating chunk of moss on a wall. “you know. just… cool.”

“…you mean attractive?”

he didn’t answer. which was answer enough. a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “are you jealous?”

jake scoffed, but she didn’t miss the way he rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching slightly. “no.”

“you’re totally jealous.”

“i’m not.”

“you are! oh my god.”

jake groaned, dramatic. “i just asked a question. why does that mean i’m jealous?”

“because you’ve been acting weird ever since we left the shop. and now you’re randomly bringing up jungwon like you’re on trial for something.”

“my favorite cousin?!” she wheezed.

“i panicked!”

“jake,” she said, still laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”

he looked at her, face serious despite the blush creeping up his neck. “so? do you?”

yn paused. then softened. “no,” she said. “i don’t like jungwon. not like that.” he looked relieved, but she wasn’t finished. “he’s in love with my best friend.”

jake blinked. “what?”

“yep. been watching him fall harder every week.”

“but… he didn’t say anything.”

“he doesn’t need to.” she grinned. “it’s so obvious. he looks at her like she hung the moon. and she pretends not to notice, but she totally does.”

jake groaned and covered his face with one hand. “why did i even ask?”

“you blushed, jake.”

“i did not.”

“you did. like, full color change. red cheeks. heatwave.”

“i loathe you.”

“no, you don’t.”

he shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying this far too much. and then his cheeks flushed again.

“you’re cute when you’re flustered,” she added.

jake swallowed, very aware of how warm his collar suddenly felt. “no, i didn’t.”

“yes, you did.” she stepped closer, eyes narrowing with faux curiosity. “oh my god. that was a real blush. that was actually pink on your face. i’ve never seen it before.”

“i’m sunburnt,” he tried weakly.

“you are not,” she said, too quickly, delighted now. “you’re flushed. oh my god. did i just witness history?”

“could you stop looking at me like i’m a fish that just learned to walk?”

“no. because jake sim—the most annoyingly smug, unfazed boy to ever exist—just blushed. over me.”

jake groaned and turned, walking a few steps ahead like it would help. it didn’t. the grin on her face was practically tattooed into his brain now.

“i’m never going to hear the end of this, am i?”

“oh, never,” she said, jogging to catch up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement.

“you know…” he said slowly, casually, trying to ground himself in words, “if you keep bringing up the blush thing, i will find a way to make you pay.”

she raised a brow. “ooh. scary.”

he grinned. “i’m resourceful.”

“try me.”

jake tilted his head. “you ever been dumped in a haystack?”

she gasped. “you wouldn’t.”

“i didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he said, breaking the silence after a while, her voice quieter now.

yn raised a shoulder. “i’m not.” he looked at her knowingly. “i’m not!” she said again, laughing despite herself. “just didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

“she looked at you.”

“well, maybe i didn’t like that either.”

he laughed again. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are.”

“i must be bored.” jake bumped his shoulder into hers gently. “admit it. you like me.”

she turned toward him. “maybe.” he blinked. that was… not the teasing tone he expected. “maybe?” he echoed.

“maybe,” she said again, and her smile was soft this time. not mischievous. just real.

jake felt his heart clench and swell all at once. yeah. he was falling. and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

yn would remember it for the rest of her life.

“you look like a wet dog,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

“and yet,” he drawled, “you’re still looking.”

she scoffed, turning slightly away, but he leaned closer. there was a hum in the air now. like tension tightening a string, plucked just once and still vibrating.

“admit it,” he murmured. “you like the view.”

“and yet…” he echoed.

he wasn’t teasing anymore. this wasn’t a joke. this was the moment. the one she’d been dreading and craving all at once. she tilted her chin up. just a little. jake leaned in. closer. closer—

yn froze. every muscle in her body turned to stone. the air between her and jake shattered like ice.

“…a ball?” came a second voice, a woman’s this time, her tone hushed and awed. “for all three of them? they’ve never even shown their faces—”

jake blinked. “wait, what?”

“addy!” jake’s voice cut through the rain, sharp and full of confusion. rain smacked his face like a thousand icy needles.

“addy,” he said again, softer now, barely audible over the rain hammering down on the rooftops above them. “what the hell just happened?”

her lips parted, and for a second, he thought she’d finally say something. but she didn’t.

“i mean—was it me? did i do something? say something wrong?”

“no—” she finally gasped, shaking her head. “it’s not you.” she turned away, and he stepped in front of her.

“then what?” he asked, stepping closer. “because five seconds ago i was about to kiss you and i swear to god, i thought you wanted that too.”

her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“i don’t care what your name is,” he said, softer now. “or what you’re hiding. you drive me insane half the time and i still… i want to kiss you so badly it’s ridiculous.”

her throat bobbed with a swallow. she looked up at him—so vulnerable, so present, like she was seconds away from falling into him again. but then— her face crumpled. “i can’t.”

jake froze.

“i just—can’t,” she whispered again, voice cracking like thunder behind her words.

he stood there, stunned, the weight of her rejection hitting heavier than the rain. “why?”

she shook her head, eyes glistening, her hand slowly slipping from his grip. “i’m sorry.”

but right now? she couldn’t even smile. because her heart was breaking.

ness blinked, pulling away from jungwon slightly as her eyes landed on yn’s soaked, trembling figure. “princess—? are you—?”

“did you know about the ball?” yn cut in, voice sharp with urgency, pain laced beneath it.

yn stared at her, chest tightening. “you thought i knew?”

“i just assumed—”

“you assumed i would know about a ball thrown by my own family?”

ness stepped forward quickly, reaching for her. “yn—”

ness crouched beside her, voice softening immediately. “yn… i didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“i ran,” she whispered. “i just… ran.”

“from who?”

ness’s face twisted with sympathy. “oh, sweetheart…”

“he must think i’m insane,” yn said, choking on a laugh. “or cruel. or lying.”

“you’re not.”

jungwon finally spoke, quiet but firm. “jake’s not stupid.”

“no,” she agreed. “but he doesn’t deserve this. not the lies. not the mess. not me.”

“don’t say that,” ness said instantly, reaching for her again.

ness was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding hers.

then slowly said. “you’re allowed to be scared. you’re allowed to not have all the answers right now.”

“but i hurt him.”

“then fix it.”

yn looked up. “tell him the truth,” ness said, eyes fierce now. “he deserves that. you both do.”

“i’m terrified,” she admitted.

yn blinked. “what are you doing here?”

jen didn’t answer right away. instead, she tilted her head with all the audacity only an eighteen-year-old princess could carry. “you look like someone shoved you into the lake.”

“i feel worse.”

“where were you?”

“not now, jen,” yn muttered, shutting the door behind her as gently as she could.

“i checked the west gardens,” jen continued. “the chapel, the music room, even that stupid little reading nook you think no one knows about. you weren’t in any of them.”

“i wasn’t hiding.”

“then where were you?”

yn sighed, stepping toward the fireplace to peel off her damp outer robe. her fingers fumbled at the ties. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

yn let her head drop back against the mirror. “jen—” turning slightly, she met her sister’s wide, delighted eyes.

“you didn’t know?” jen asked, brows furrowing. “but i thought—father said he sent out word to all of us two days ago.”

“no one told me.” yn looked down, her voice barely audible. “not father. not cassie. not you. not a single soul thought to mention it to me.”

“i thought ness would’ve—”

“i only found out because i overheard villagers talking about it.” her hands trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms. “right as jake was about to kiss me.”

jen rushed to explain, “i only overheard a few things! i wasn’t told directly or anything—just… in the corridors, you know? something about alliances and signatures and a royal visit—”

“who?” yn whispered.

jen blinked. “what?”

“who am i supposed to be engaged to?”

jen’s lips pursed like she was trying not to say it, as if saying it aloud might make it worse. “…park sunghoon,” she finally muttered. “from the eastern territory. the coastal kingdom.”

“when were they going to tell me?”

“i don’t know. i didn’t think—”

jen flinched at her tone, guilt flashing across her features. “yn, i didn’t mean—”

“an engagement?” yn repeated, stunned. “they expect me to walk into that room next week and be given away like livestock? to someone i’ve never met?”

jen looked down. “i thought you knew…”

jen stood frozen, arms crossed, unsure of whether to leave or stay. the room, usually so calm and filled with candlelight and books and memories, now felt like a prison. a cage about to close.

“let’s go,” jen said suddenly, sharp enough to cut through the storm in yn’s chest.

yn blinked, turning around. “what?”

“to see him,” jen replied, as if it were obvious. “jake.”

yn gawked at her. “are you insane?”

jen shrugged, casually. “probably. but i’ve seen you spiral before and i’ve never seen you like this.”

“i’m not spiraling,” yn lied.

yn scowled. “you’re not helping.”

jen frowned. “and you’re just going to… let that happen?” “do i have a choice?”

“i can’t tell him the truth. not now.”

her breath caught. “what?”

“say it again,” he repeated, stepping forward now, his own hands shaking. “like you mean it.”

her heart clenched. “i love you,” she whispered. “i think i’ve been in love with you from the second you called me an artful goose.”

“you left me in the rain.”

“i know.”

“i couldn’t sleep.”

“i couldn’t breathe.”

jake broke into the kind of grin that made her forget the name of the planet. “well,” he said, stepping impossibly closer. “i love you too.” her breath caught.

“i’ve been going insane, addy.”

“me too.”

“i thought i was too late.”

“you’re not.”

she laughed nervously, breath hitching with nerves. “i was trying to be annoying.”

“you were,” he agreed. “it was adorable.”

she rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed, and he chuckled.

“no.”

jake smiled, and something about it—soft, reverent—made her chest ache. “alright,” he said, stepping even closer. “then let me take my time.” and god, he did.

jake smirked. “there’s more where that came from, sweetheart.”

she shoved his shoulder lightly, but she couldn’t stop smiling. her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. “you’re such a flirt,” she said.

“you love it.”

but still… he wasn’t jake. not with his sun-browned skin and soft tanned hands with thick veins and that nose she wanted to trace with her finger.. and then maybe sit—

“you’re late,” she said softly, eyes unreadable.

sunghoon blinked, startled. “what?”

“this.” she gestured to the looming ballroom. “the marriage. the show. all of it.”

sunghoon’s voice was soft. “i tried. but she said she wasn’t going to marry anyone. said she wanted to study abroad. said it was her duty to put her brain before her heart.”

“i think so,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “but she chose her duty. like we’re both supposed to do now.”

he blinked. “what?”

“we’ll play the part. be the picture of royalty tonight. but we don’t go through with it. not truly. let them see what they want to see. and then—when the time comes—we walk away.”

jake sim had never expected to attend a royal ball.

“look at you,” mira smirked, elbowing his side. “all cleaned up.”

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered, but he smiled anyway.

“jake!” her voice sliced through the quiet night like a blade.

he didn’t turn. she ran to him—her skirts heavy, shoes kicking up grass and dew. the jewels in her hair were loose now, a few strands of hair escaping, cheeks flushed. “jake, please—”

he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “don’t.”

she froze at the sight of him—red-eyed, tear-streaked, lips trembling.

“i told you,” he whispered, voice thick. “i told you i don’t cry.”

yn’s heart broke clean in half. “i know,” she whispered. “i know you don’t.”

“not even for my mother,” he choked. “but for you—” his voice shattered.

“jake—”

“don’t lie again,” he said sharply, voice cracking. “not now.”

“i didn’t lie—”

“you told me you were leaving, addy.” he poked his cheek with his tongue, correcting himself immediately, voice bitter. “sorry princess, i meant yn.”

“you could’ve said something!” he said, voice loud now, but still hoarse. “god, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me—and i believed it. i fucking believed it.”

tears welled in her eyes. “i did mean it,” she said, her voice shaking. “i do love you.”

he looked away, jaw clenched.

he didn’t answer.

“do you know how long i’ve been sneaking into that village just to breathe?” she whispered. “just to feel like me? like a person? not a pawn on someone else’s game board?”

he slowly turned his head, eyes swollen, red. “so you ran there.”

“i ran there every day i could. and that day i found you sitting by the lake—” her breath hitched. “—it was the first day someone saw me. really saw me.”

jake looked at her like she was made of both fire and water.

“i wasn’t going to marry him,” she said. “we… we talked about it. we’re pretending. that was all for show.”

his brow furrowed.

“we planned it,” she explained. “sunghoon—he’s in love with my sister, cassie. and i’m—” she looked at him, stepping forward again, “—i’m in love with you.”

he let out a sharp, wounded breath. “then why do i still feel like i lost you?”

he exhaled shakily, like her words cracked something open in his chest again. “say it again,” he whispered.

“what?” “that you love me.”

she didn’t blink. “i love you,” she said, voice steady now. “i love you, jake sim.”

he shook his head. “don’t say it again. just… don’t lie anymore.”

“i won’t.”

“promise me.”

“i swear.”

she clutched his lapel like she might fall over. “i’m going to fix this.”

jake’s brows furrowed softly, like he didn’t dare believe it.

he blinked at her, almost dazed. “you’d do that?”

he approached slowly, hands in his pockets, trying not to startle them. jungwon looked up first, blinking. “oh—jake,” he said, smiling politely. “didn’t expect—”

“sorry,” jake said, forcing his voice to stay even. “didn’t mean to interrupt. i just…” he glanced at ness. her face paled the second she registered who he was.

“you’re jake,” she said quietly, as if his name was a knife she’d been holding in her throat.

he nodded once. “yeah. i was… wondering if either of you had seen her.” no name needed, everyone knew who he meant.

dear jake,

i love you. i love you so much it hurts to breathe. please don’t hate me. please understand.

i'm so, so sorry.

forever and ever yours only and truly, addy yn

it was colder at night, even in early summer. not in the way decelis had been, with its cool marble halls and formal silences. but a bite in the air that felt more honest. more alive.

“i haven’t,” yn argued weakly, slipping on her gloves.

“yes, you have,” jungwon chimed in with a soft grin, his coat already buttoned up. “you miss being twenty-one and reckless.”

yn had sighed. “don’t we all?”

jungwon chuckled. “that’s why we didn’t bring her.”

jake.

her heart squeezed. “yn,” she corrected, gently.

“i am.”

jake startled. “right. uh. drinks?”

“your strongest,” jungwon said, slipping an arm around ness.

yn smiled faintly. “surprise me.” jake hesitated. then nodded. “i can do that.”

the drinks came quick—jake clearly knew his way around a bar now.

jake leaned against the railing. “didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“didn’t think i’d ever get to explain.”

“you didn’t have to,” he said, eyes on the city lights. “i figured it out eventually. your life was never really yours to begin with.”

she sighed. “still. i’m sorry.” he glanced at her. “i forgave you a long time ago.”

she looked down. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

“i know.”

she smiled faintly. “i still remember that day at the lake.”

jake laughed under his breath. “the almost-kiss?”

“you were going to kiss me.” “i wanted to kiss you.” “you looked so proud of yourself.” “i was proud. i was charming.” “you were insufferable.” “you loved it.”

she laughed. and god, it felt like breathing. silence fell between them then. comfortable. real. jake turned to her fully, finally asking, “so what’s your life like now?”

yn hesitated. “not what i imagined,” she said honestly. “we’re… comfortable. sunghoon and i. we tried to make the best of it. and then our daughter came and she became everything.”

jake nodded. “does he make you laugh?”

she looked at him, slowly. “no. not like you.”

jake smiled, sad and soft. then: “you look good. happy.” “are you?”

he shrugged. “i’ve got a bar. a decent place. friends. a dog named lady layla.”

she blinked. “seriously?”

he smirked. “she’s royalty, obviously.”

“you still know.” “i never forgot.”

jake’s smile was heartbreak and home all at once. “i think it still could.”

it just is.