Chapter Twenty Eight

28•••

      You always feared someone would take her away. The monarchy, the government, the crown- even your inabilities to protect her from them.

You always feared someone would take Jennie from you, but you never imagined she would be the one to walk away.

Stay, your mind stumbles upon, struggling to bring the word, the request, the hope, to your mouth and out loud enough for her to hear through the slit of the closed door. Just for one more night, because it's late, the night is cold and pathways are pitch dark. Stay until the morning, because maybe she will change her mind when the sun comes up. Forget what she had said under the moonlight, that she does not want to love you anymore- forget it as easily as she did to your misdeeds on that clouded night of lost control. You will forget about it just as quick.

"Jennie?" her name heaps out of your chest, quiet and weak below the weight of needled distress and brazen hurt. You feel fragile in every part, your entirety cracking like glass. The mosaics tiled with every moment you had with Jennie's love are chipped and fractured, and every fortress built to protect this is ruined. The bridges to your world with Jennie are wrecked and your cathedrals have been burned. "Let's talk about this" you can pick up the pieces and hold them for the night, "Please just talk to me" we can put them back together with our conservations in the dark.

You clasp on the knob, but the door remains locked, and the shuffle of steps and thuds of belongings grow louder in her haste. You claw at the separation between you, your mind seeing her suitcases packed of her life here with you and the sentiments she holds to you now that she has unloved you.

You have been stripped of your rights to her love and to be disregarded and shunned, you haven't felt its wretchedness to this extent since Jennie was yours and you were hers. And it hurts terribly. Standing here waiting as she rushes to leave you- You're being torn apart, cut with a hundred thousand paper cuts on the skin Jennie kissed and touched and imprinted herself on and it hurts like salt water seeping into the raw wounds as you're anchored down to where you can't reach the light and you're finding it hard to breath, still caught in the middle of losing Jennie.

"Please, love, I just want to—"

The wind catches your breath when she swings the door open. She's dressed and ready to go. You look her in the eye, hers red and sullen, not far from comparison to yours- and you look for the sign that shows you she wants to stay, like the hope in yours that she still will.

"If you will excuse me," she voices out, carrying a luggage and brushing her way past you.

"Jennie" fresh tears spring to your eyes when you smell strawberry, "Jennie please wait" you hurry to catch her, but she continues headstrong, descending the staircase quickly and your tears blur your vision with the thought of you chasing after love whilst she runs away from it.

"Tell Lisa I will try my best to mail Sehun's letters discreetly." Jennie says insouciant, and you are about to be selfish, ignoring her statement.

You stammer over your words as you're trying not to stumble on your feet either, "If you wish not to talk to me about this, then fine Jennie just stay" you will wait until she is first to speak.

"There is no reason to," she diverges, and there is a tremor to her voice that oughts for conviction. You try to catch a glimpse of those feline eyes so you can really discern her contradictories to herself, but you can't tell if the tears you see are only your own, "Classes are over and all there is left to accomplish are more dry runs of the coronation. It can be done in my own court."

"But it would be much more efficient and seamless to do it together,"

Jennie pushes the grand doors open and her carriage awaits with her guards.

"Please don't leave like this Jennie" your heart shatters with each crunch of the gravel. Your tears fall in every breath you try to breathe of her.

Staying means not just to finish as Princesses together but to salvage this love for the throne. You will scrape all liabilities off your hands if you could so they are free to hold Jennie's and Jennie's alone.

She stops short of her coach, turning on her heels and facing you with indifference, like the moment she told you this is finished all over again, "Please don't do this to me Rosie" she says, "I don't want to stay." and this time she stares right at your ache, being brutally honest with her words, "You were the only reason I did, but now," you try to take her hand, even for just one last time, but she shakes her head, "Now perhaps, it is time I go."

You hesitate to try again. You almost just stop yourself completely because nothing has come out in your favor for trying. You ruin what you touch and hold on so tight to what you must not be meant to keep that it takes part of you with it when it is gone, "I love you, Jennie" and you will do anything she says- no matter how painful, no matter how much you wish for it not to be this way- If Jennie wants to leave then you will let her go, you will not force what is unwanted. No matter how unbearable it is, no matter the cost.

"Goodbye, Rosie" she can take your love with you until she holds it close enough to hear its heartbeat is true. Maybe then, she will come back to you.

       You watched Jennie depart from you until the carriage was too far from sight for your tearful eyes. Uncaring of who witnessed the last exchange and who stayed to watch the aftermath, your legs gave in to the ground and you just cried. Your tears dampened the gravel beneath you and the still nature of the cold night was imbued with breathless weeps for Jennie.

You were at the front lines of grief. Mourning for another you have lost. Emptied of everything that granted you happiness and passion in its authenticity. You've been existing through these days- years, with the constant absence of the plenty you miss, and the pain had never gone away but you learned to live with it. You did, but you never- couldn't imagine what would be enough to relieve you of being without Jennie.

And how hard it is to believe, to accept that Jennie does not love you anymore.

Your hands tried to gather the tears you wept for her, fisted the ground beneath you, but the grains, too, slipped between your fingers.

You wanted the earth to swallow you whole. You wanted to be buried under the world that cheated you of your wonders. You pounded your knuckles on the solid land, begging for it to open up. You cursed the gods and wondered if they came to watch your downfall.

"Don't—" you pushed away the hands that held onto you. You would just crumble if you stood, you thought.

"It's cold, Your Highness" the collected tone of your royal guard rang through your ears and you pushed even harder because Suho had faulted you enough to contribute in this hurt. "There is warmth inside, Princess" but his guardianship echoed louder, and the thought of warmth that is not Jennie's numbed your entirety to be lifted off the ground and on your feet in Suho's support, allowed yourself to be brought into the banquet that chains you, where warmth that is not Jennie's is not what you need to shelter out the cold.

•••

      You thought you had cried all the ocean's waters until you saw Lisa the next day. She was wheeled down the corner of the corridor on your way to meet her at the vestibule in her arrival, and from the end of the hall, she knew. She asked the nurse to excuse her because she knew. Lisa always knows with you.

You ran to her with brimming tears and when she stood on her shaking legs to wrap you in her arms, your tears fell like waterfalls. As fragile as Lisa was, she held you with comfort and strength.

"She left" you cried. You took Lisa to the guest bedroom and you told her what happened from the beginning of yesterday. The suitors, then what you came home to after your visit to her at the hospital, the ordeal with your father and what you failed to anticipate, the twist of fate and the end of it with Jennie. Out of what you could muster from lungs of sobs and gasps, you told Lisa everything and every look of Jennie's eyes, the longing, the endearing, the breaking- they flashed in your mind in blinks.

So awfully fast and overwhelming that you couldn't recognize at what exact moment did she fall out of love- at what moment could you have caught her from falling out of love for you.

You don't know when love became so painful. When the person who held your heart in the palm of her hands- those soft, delicate hands that woke you up on golden mornings, pulled you out of troubled waters, caressed you in silent nights, loved you from the inside- had your heart and dropped it.

You wondered how long had it been painful for Jennie to love you. Had the weight of your heart grown heavy of wishful thinking and uncertainty- had she gotten tired of blinded promises- you don't know.

You don't know why Jennie let go of you. But her benignity, and gentleness- you want to feel a thousand hands from Jennie.

"I'm sorry-" you take in a sharp breath, letting it puncture your chest to breathe deeper.

Lisa cups your stained cheek and wipes your tears as they fall, shaking her head, "What ever for?"

"I've lost" you admit, and for another round- the final one in this game of kingdom royale- rule or be ruled. "For all of you, I've lost" the justice, the liberty, the love of clandestine affairs- yours and theirs have been forfeited by your inaptitudes. You knew your promises had been unfulfilled in Jisoo's and Lisa's margins, but your own vows have shattered you, broken to a thousand pieces.

And the crown could grant you such power to redeem a world of ruin, but there is no place for you and Jennie in this one- she made that very clear. It seems everyone had, but you were too in love to believe it.

•••

      The morning is dull and silent this time you wake. You had managed to actually fall asleep, and perhaps it was on accounts of being drained to absolute exhaustion and emotional distress. You feel emptied, but a thick heaviness unnamed still lingers. In the air, in the bed, and in you.

You've woken faced to the side of where Jennie would be. Should be. Won't be. She doesn't want to be.

And waking up is difficult, while getting out of bed is almost a breeze. Your indisposition to lie alone in a bed for two pushes you off the mattress, leaving only the constant density in your chest for you to carry.

It is a looming cloud felt across the entire palace. As chatter and rumors amongst the servants have always been infinite, they have ceased overnight. And the people around you tiptoe, like they are afraid to step on the shards of glass of your promises on the marbled floor.

It is unknown to them what has truly happened, and you confirm this as Ms. Choi has not a single idea for why Jennie left and why you crumbled to the ground when she did. Nor, does your royal guard have a perception for reasons- he just knows you have been damaged to this degree and he stays outside your door all day and night.

Ms Choi longs for an answer. You know in the way she speaks to you with tender and consoling approaches in hopes you would open up. In your vulnerability, your fickle mind tumbles in a predicament of to trust or not to trust and just when you are about to give in to her solace, you get tired just thinking about how you would explain all this mess, then you don't bother trying.

You don't try to do anything at all. Eating becomes taxing, a little less with Lisa joining you, but engaging in coronation practice while all eyes of organizers are on you is the brunt of this limbo. You feel bitter. How you are expected to carry yourself after your heart has been broken.

The royal family in all history has been seen as divinity, but you have never felt more human than this.

You can't even be granted just one day to miss Jennie without a passing thought of when your paintings will be given back, father's business in the province, your awaiting ceremony to the throne, the day you can see Jennie again. Hearing her voice isn't even likely with the fear that telephones would be tampered with, or rather the chances that she would actually pick up the phone- but you think hearing her breathe would be enough.

It burns like hell what Jennie has done. It really does, but you remember spring days and the blooming flowers of the Northern landscapes and the blowing wind in her hair by the salt waters and the chasing of sunsets and her laugh echoing in the forest trees and you feel the fire of her love enkindled in you. You remember strawberry desserts and cherry wine and her face under the moonlight- the blazing sun and the galloping rush and the ballroom lit for just the two of you in a song that you wish would last forever.

You made memories long enough to last you this lifetime and you choose to believe they are strong- powerful enough to last forever.

"Princess Roseanne," You lift your gaze to Ms. Choi who takes the sceptre and orb from your hands, "we have covered everything for today" she says, probably having repeated it for a second time.

You look for Suho around the ballroom and spot him observing from the door.

"Has my father arrived back from his trip?" you ask, stepping off the makeshift platform.

"He isn't expected to until tomorrow morn—"

"Request for the carriage. That of the guards, not mine" you tell her, making your way to your royal guard, and his eyebrows crease in your haste. You speak quietly to him, "You and I are going for a ride," though firm with your orders, "Alone."

      It was not much of a surprise that Jisoo was not present at her parents' residence at the edge of town. You had just ought to take all the chances you could to find her. And when you requested that Suho take you to the academe, you had no doubt that it was where she would be. You saw it in the way Suho's body tensed and his eyes averted.

On the way there, you even scold him, for if he were to be so obvious with keeping a secret, then he might as well had confessed he knew where Jisoo was to quit wasting time looking.

"It was a slip of the tongue, I presume" he told you, head forward as he took the reins and speaking to you through the tiny square window of the carriage, "At the hospital, in the brief moment, I asked about her days and she mentioned plenty laborious ones at the academe."

Jisoo was always one to falter when flustered. Primarily so when Suho was around. Some things haven't changed, you think.

"She asked I forget it, but forgive me, Your Highness, I could never" he says honestly, and you chuckle lightly to yourself, feeling as if he deserves a medal for it. And you would honor it to him, feeling somewhat at ease knowing his heart is still somewhere good.

Using the guard carriage, it has managed as a disguise from reporters and townspeople. No one has taken a second glance as you roll by, unknowing that the Princess is on her way to where she should not be. Had you been stubborn enough to ignore Jisoo's requests not to come see her before, you would have done this once she stepped foot out of the palace in her dismissal. You are luckily enough your father would not hear of this for the absence of cameras and their flashing lights.

You had been to the historic, archetypal academe once before. Only to stand by your father and surface as interested and pleased to be attending a four hour long exhibit of relics and artifacts with attendees and scholars no younger than your father. You were in the least engrossed by chitchat and rounding the displays countlessly to pass the time, but you stayed and you smiled and spoke with everyone courteously, because Jisoo was standing next to her own father and mother with much pride for their contributions to history.

You walk through that same exhibit now, have arrived in this very academe for the second time and for the second time for your best friend.

"The office is through that corridor, Princess, and you will find the door to your right at the end."

You turn to Suho, "Come with me" you say, but he takes a step back instead with pursed lips to a smile.

"I'm afraid this is something I cannot accompany you to, Your Highness." he looks at you dearly, even if his eyes say he longs for even just a glance of Jisoo, and he gestures his palm to the ajar door to the hall. You ought to convince him no one would catch them now- that it is safe to be together for a moment's worth. But instead, you think to give them all the time they want after you discuss your agendas first.

Pushing past the door, you walk down the echoing hall, passing through paintings and books displayed as history. You hear static radio from the end, a forecast of today's gloomy weather.

"Oh bloody hell" you hear Jisoo and her distinctive grumble. You approach the gaping door of the office, reaching out and pushing it open ever so slightly, "Damn screw". You see her slim fit figure atop a stool, back to you with her arms over a tall, unsteady bookshelf. You look at Jisoo, in the middle of the scholarly office, with steps to platforms for every genre of worldly information there is to know and discover, and chalkboards of compositions no average person would be able to comprehend, and no less than stacks and stacks of books and papers on desks and shelves like the wonders of the world are piled on top of one another- you look at Jisoo and you see plenty of them. "Yes!" she exclaims in success.

You step in the room, "Congratulations"

"Christ—" Jisoo nearly stumbles off the stool before clinging on to the bookshelf. Her wide eyes meet you, "Roseanne, what are you— How did you know I was—"

You walk over, extending your hand to help her safely off the stool, "I asked Suho to take me here."

Jisoo stops short of dusting her slacks when you mention the guard and her brows furrow in question of your presence.

"I'm not here to bring you back, Chu. Not unless it is what you want." you state, and your voice starts to tremor, "I'm here because," you apologize for your selfishness, suddenly feeling a wave of tears creeping in "I need your help." You apologize for getting choked up so fast.

Jisoo sees the brewing fear in your eyes, what you're going to tell her- that your heart is broken- and she rushes to shut the door and lock it. You face her, though stay where you are so she wouldn't see you shake so much if she were close. You should have used the travel time to structure your fragmented thoughts to tell Jisoo that Jennie has left you.

You should have, so whatever you do say is exactly what steers in your head, disarrayed collections of what has led you here.

"Rosie," Jisoo scratches her forehead, something she does when she's searching for the right thing to say, "Don't love and don't want to love are two very different things."

"But she has left nonetheless," you stress. You swallow your tears, what is possibly left of them, "and she made it very clear that two kingdoms could never be one" not even if there is a chance that she still loves you. She would rather believe that she doesn't if it means carrying the crown alone.

Jisoo opens her mouth to differ, but the announcement on the radio catches the air, "Royal Highness, Princess Jennie will embark on the first ever royal tour as Queen of Northern Marcadia. It has been decided that shortly after the coronation ceremony, the Princess will mark history as the first member of the royal family to travel around the world in hopes to..."

The static muffles in your ears, perhaps a favor to protect yourself from hearing any more of Jennie moving further and further away from you.

You have come here to find a way to prevent precisely that.

"What do I do, Chu?" you ask wretched, "Tell my father? The council?" you're out of options, out of roads so tell me— You need to, you're my mentor so please tell me "I don't know what to do"

Muddled and saddened by your tearful plea, Jisoo looks at your weariness with a sigh. Then as the wordless moment prolongs with her thoughts, she diverts her gaze around, stepping here and retracts to there while you try to catch an even breath then she shuts off the radio to spare you both of the unwanted noise.

You wait in the deafening silence. Your vision slates Jisoo with a thin pane of tears.

She speaks to you softly, like anything louder than a breath will break you, "Before telling anyone else how much you love Jennie, Rosie, you need to remind her herself."

You shake your head, because how could you when telephone lines are unsecured and you are not welcome in her court.

"You know Jennie more than anyone," Jisoo strides toward you, taking your cold hands in her warmth, and the way she looks at you settles that heat in your chest, "I know you feel like no one is listening to you, Rosie. And I know you have felt that way all your life," she says with much purpose, in much earnest and truth to build yourself from the rubble "But I also know that you have a voice."

She believes what she says so strongly.

"You have a voice, Rosie."

      "Take care of her." you hear Jisoo say from where you wait patiently, while she and Suho meet ends to their dialogue long overdue. After picking yourself up from your confessions to her, you asked she initiate conversation with Suho, knowing well how stubborn he is to refuse to do it himself. She was hesitant, but you lured her into the opportunity as she offered to lead you out of the building, only to find the royal guard waiting just outside the first corridor where you knew he would be. 

It was a pause for surprise and longing stares, then a meek 'hello' escaped Jisoo's lips as your cue to excuse yourself. You couldn't make plenty out of their conversation, only hearing light giggles and concluding simple check ins are shared back and forth with each other.

But this, you hear clearly, and you're washed with a sense of obligation mixed with guilt knowing they are talking about you.

"You stay in that palace and you take care of her."

You almost hate being you, more so not understanding why your protection must come before them.

•••

      It's a blurry scheme of things the next few days, almost like they had been meshed into one, and you are left with five until you become Queen.

You were senseless as it seemed, a walking void- though feeling stagnant, stationary under a shadow that hovered you everywhere. The most you would feel of emotion were at the first sight of the space beside you every time you woke. It was always the same. An absence you felt terribly to the bone. It would linger through morning like pinning you to reality, refusing to let you escape in work.

You drowned in the thoughts of Jennie at these shivering moments. You wondered what it is like under the sheets of her own bed.

You wondered if they were wrinkled in the morning as she tossed and turned throughout the night thinking about you like you did thinking about her.

It was always the same. When had Jennie stopped loving you?

You buried questions on top one another like bodies. Each one losing its soul as time passed that you had no answers to them.

You couldn't get them. You wouldn't risk it over the phone and you wouldn't brave it on paper. Not even when Jennie kept her promise and found a discreet passage to send letters from Sehun to Lisa like she said she would.

Had you figured out how it was mailed, you still wouldn't take the chance. You wondered if she had the same reason for not sending a letter to you either.

And for goodness sake, even Ms. Choi gets a word from inside the Northern palace, receiving updated telegrams from Jennie's advisor about their go-abouts with coronation preparations.

It's embittering. It hurts you to think about it.

But in helpful, wearisome ways, you had much to distract you from the melancholy. The newspapers had surfaced bold political incriminations toward your father, all about the farmers and fishermen going hungry in the provinces- you had no idea how grave the adversities were, and every time you read about them, the dejection turned to anger- but you were never given longer than a column's page to dwell because you were swept away in Ms. Choi's timetable.

You visited the cathedral today. The venue of the main event. You stood on the platform in front of pews and pews that will cater to the North and South's most honorable citizens.

You stood before your throne. Its elegance and power was daunting. It was not as empowering as you thought.

You stood before Jennie's and you couldn't look any longer.

Then, you stood at the podium, the pulpit of the beginning of your era.

Your voice echoed. You spoke and it rippled down the abbey. It vibrated in you.

You exhaled what was heavy inside. You felt light, and unchained, and bound for something big.

You grew faith, because you have a voice.