Chapter Thirty

30•••

Had the following night of the invasion be like any ordinary night of consuming thoughts and overwhelming emotions, you would have had a hard time falling asleep. But burnt out to complete exhaustion after the day of stacking books upon books and hearing left and right from Suho's reports of the media and the media themselves on the radio, your mind was knocked out cold once your back hit the fresh sheets. You didn't spend a second longer replaying the news, The sacred ground of the Royal Park family has been compromised, Rebels of the provincial towns retreat back to their territory after gravely trespassing the palace, Southern Marcadia has silenced themselves after last night's invasion on the royal family, but demands for the impeachment of the King still linger in the air, King Park is expected to address the nation tomorrow morning in light of the recent attacks on the royal palace and the Princesses' upcoming coronation ceremony.

You managed to get a word with your father before going to bed. Toward the end of your dinner for one, his sturdy built grown tired and sluggish, walked in the dining room and sat with you. From the under eyes and the droop of his shoulders, you knew your father was spent. But as he filled you in on the latest discussions with the council, your father tried to keep his gentle smile spread on his face even if it took more effort than needed. Even if the rest of his entirety was shattered to say he shouldn't be at the coronation.

"Where else would you be?" you asked, your throat closing in in the mere seconds you wondered if this was him walking out of your life again- you've just got him back, you thought.

"Outrage, would be an understatement for the sentiments held against me by our people" he said, and you saw the fire and smoke rush through his head in the brief pause, "There are severe threats upon me, Roseanne. I worry that any place I am to show up would be at the risk of danger. There will be thousands of people sitting in the abbey for the coronation and my presence may put their lives in jeopardy- I cannot take any chances for yours." he said seriously, took your hand and squeezed, "Though, it is certain that it is you they look to as their new monarch and they just can't wait to throw me off the throne," his eyes glinted with pride and confidence and it was for you. It outcasted the fear he felt, and it was so new for you to see in him, feel from him, that its brilliance was blinding in all the bright ways, "You will be a much better sovereign than I could have been." he said, "Both you and Jennie will be remarkable Queens of Marcadia."

Your heart thumped, a swell of both poignant and somber emotions. Moved with hearing how the people see you, and the faith your father has for his daughter. But crestfallen at just the sound of Jennie's name.

You were always so taken by everything Jennie.

Whether it was her smile or her laugh or her endearments that had shifted your sensibilities from a downfall to an uprise- Jennie always had an effect on you.

When you would think of her, you were reminded that you still have a heart. The memories, the feelings, the love- layered over each other that you had to peel off the painful ones to feel the good raw and real. You still have a heart for Jennie. Your heart is everything Jennie.

And now, where everything you love about her had been twisted in her name, the feelings you had whenever she would look at you returned upside down, disordered and confused.

She said you both would ruin Marcadia because of this love. If you told father about your heart, you wondered if he would change his mind and say the same thing.

You didn't, though. Your thoughts flushed themselves out, too whirled on their own. Instead, you asked questions you needed answers to. Where father would be during the coronation, what the next course of action is to calm the people, what the next course of action is of the people.

"The lake house your mother's parents owned at the lower side of the region. For how long, it is still indefinite." he said, and his absence was already seeping in, "The council is working tirelessly to address the current circumstances with the people, and I assure you, Roseanne," he raised his palm to your cheek and held you gently, "I believe that the South will rise under your wing. You are going to be Queen, my darling. A god."

      Father's words were meant to be encouraging, and he truly shined with his pride for you, but the pressure of the crown was right above your head and the longer you thought of it, the more daunting it was.

To stray your mind from it, you think about the lake house. You had only visited it twice, or perhaps three times and more but they have slipped from your recollections as you were just a young girl. You splashed at the water while father paddled the canoe for two, you played on the grass while mother painted the scenery, you ate marshmallows by the fire while fireflies flew around you. You were just a young girl with only the present moments as your precedents. So free and in bliss. You knew nothing of your royalty, but knew the lake house was your escape from the marbled floors you weren't allowed to make muddy from your shoes. You knew nothing of loss and hurt, but instead of feeling sorry for the naive and sinless little girl who saw darkness in the world not long after her last visit to the lake, you are beholden to have been brave enough to live in it.

You found light and treasured it. You found true happiness and held on to it. You found love and you're going to change the world for it.

       At breakfast, your father has toast and tea with you before his preparations for his address to the people. He spoils the gist to you- the premise of the speech to inform the country that cautious and appropriate actions to resolve the matters between the government and the provinces will be upheld seriously to everyone's best interest- for the betterment of the people's livelihood, that no one at the palace (aside from Lisa's re-opened wounds) had been injured from the violence, that the Northern leaders are extending their graces, and that the coronation will happen as planned.

In two days, you will be the Queen of South Marcadia. The next address to the nation will be from you.

The approach of it all hasn't quite sunk in yet. You feel like you haven't gotten much time to solely focus on the new beginnings and the new responsibilities and the new ways of your coming days.

It has been looked forward to across the media, had been running the headlines since the Cup started and even before it, broadcasted on top of the morning radio, and televised at every channel. The futures of Marcadia have been highly anticipated, enthusiastically looked forward to, and in two days time it will become reality.

You, and Jennie at your side, will be crowned Queens. Standing together in front of millions, you and Jennie will reflect as just the two had-been princesses of opposite regions, grown in vastly different family upbringings, performed duties of the same but not quite, invested in each other's obligations to the necessary extent as members of the royal family— they wouldn't know of the stolen stares in the halls.

Nor the longing gazes at the dirt course.

They wouldn't know of the brush of the leg under the tables or the mindless strolls under the moonlight. They wouldn't know of the walks toward countless sunsets, the slow dances in the ballroom, the jests and wits in every laugh, the stumbling limbs on limbs from the cherry wine, and the handholds in empty corridors, and the kisses in empty rooms, and the I love you's between the sheets, and everything— every touch and every breathless moment you and Jennie had are yours and Jennie's alone.

They will never know.

You will stand beside Jennie with the crown, and you will look just as estranged to one another like your names printed side by side on the newspaper.

They will never know that you would be thinking of every day you fell in love with Jennie over and over again.

If only your tears wouldn't stream down your face like the way they do now.

"With the Royal Coronation in two days, Royal Highness Princess Jennie beams with excitement to have finalized all preparations for her set journey- her royal tour around the world..."  the radio would be your only source of updates on Jennie's agendas. Suddenly, you understand how it feels to be the average citizen, informed of what happens in the royal courts second handedly.

You finish the last of your breakfast tea to drown out the salty tears.

You wait for the morning tune to play along, wondering which soulful piece it would be today—

"It truly is an exciting dream,"

The tea cup nearly slips off your fingers—

"I'm very fond of traveling and every place I visit fascinates me in their own ways,"

Jennie.

"And what more could I ask for with the chance to see the world and all its finest beauties?"

God you can't even get a moment to breathe. You put down the china and push back your chair, ready to shut it all off before her voice crushes your heart until it's had enough— it has had enough. Please, it's only the morning—

"Will you board the royal ship with a companion or any friend of yours?" There's a significant pause after the reporter's question.

If you didn't know any better, Jennie would be fiddling with her fingers like she does, a quiver to the corner of her toothless smile, but only if she is thinking what you think she is.

You ought to stop hurting yourself hoping that it's you. That she would rather have no companion unless it was you. That she wouldn't go anywhere else without you.

That she remembers, too- what she said to you before, that she will take you to see all the beautiful places—

"Well," her tone is undecipherable, even for you.

You should really just stop this. You rise from your seat and stride to the radio.

"I will be alone,"

You fumble with all the switches, not quite getting the right one in your tremble. You feel your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and fresh tears prickle in the back of your eyes because you remember it so clearly- "I'll take you anywhere you want to go, Rosie" she said.

"But I will certainly bring home all my favorite places in photographs for—"

The static disperses in the air, but the noise still buffers inside you. Quick and bright, you can't catch them, moments of Jennie flashing in your mind, perpetuating the ache in your chest. The memories of Jennie are happy. You see her gummy smile and rolling on the bed in her giggles, her hair swaying to the side as she skips in delight, her mesmerizing gaze when she looks over her shoulder, her feathered kisses showering your skin.

As days have gone by, the painful memory of when Jennie decided it was the end of it all were eclipsed by everything that kept you and her in love.

No matter how broken and shattered you were when she left, you couldn't stop loving her just like that. You love too many of your memories together that you can't forget the joy and fulfillment that come with them either.

Jennie is the best thing to ever happen to you, you know it as profoundly as it could get. She is so deep inside you that no matter how many times you curse yourself to shut her out, you can't.

You always find your way back to Jennie.

So no matter that she might be doing this to protect you and no matter that you are the cost of her crown- it is always Jennie.

•••

      The following day, you wake up stiff necked and back sore. You had fallen asleep at your desk, slopped over your coronation speech for tomorrow. The papers marked with red and black ink to bolden your words of emphasis, ready for the podium.

You extend your arms and legs, giving yourself a stretch to loosen the muscles. You were tense and adamant about perfecting this speech for the last practice. Through the night, until your eyes couldn't read anymore, you repeated the words again and again.

You didn't quite settle with nerves just then, but waking up to a new day knowing that tomorrow is the most awaited- you're jittering off your seat. Your throat is dry and stomach turning- it's like the moments before a huge race but worse.

After all the practice and briefing these past months, you still don't know what to expect when you stand on that platform. You could fry your mind just trying to comprehend that this is the last day of this life and tomorrow will be the start of a new one.

You rush in the bathroom, bend over the toilet and hurl all the willies out. Certainly, some things haven't changed with keeping the nerves down.

      Lisa is here to remind you to breathe every now and then. You unconsciously find yourself holding your breath, suffocating by whatever picture of the future you could imagine- perhaps preventing yourself from gagging on dry air like you're used to in suspenseful circumstances.

"And enough with the pacing, Chip" she nags, chuckling at how darling you look when you're on edge, as she put it.

"I didn't know a pale face was considered as alluring to you" you mutter, snapping a glare to your best friend on her bed, "Or are you entertained?"

"I reckon seeing someone anxious for something they care about strengthens their appeal" she counters.

Your feet stop by the window, your side eyes fixed on her cheeky grin and brow arched. She's enjoying this quite a bit, "Last time I inquired, your center of attraction was very much directed at a particular someone" not to mention, you can't forget the way they she and Sehun were snogging at the maze that one dark night.

"Oh please, Rosie, its just your sex appeal—"

The chair's throw pillow goes flying from your hands and hitting right at Lisa's face, "You're crazy, Lalisa"

"Are you blushing?" she taunts.

"Definitely not!" you rebuke, though you feel the heat of your cheeks very evidently. There's a twitch to your body, too. The thought of sex feels like the way you thought of it when you were a prude, explicit & sinful, and to believe that your sex appeal is enhanced in beads of sweat and hand spasms- in Lisa's eyes for god's sa—

She throws her head back in a laugh and shakes her head, "I kid, Chipmunk, I kid." she sighs in content, while you do of annoyance.

You turn to the window, shifting the conversation "How is the stable boy by the way?" you ask, gazing out to the front courtyard. The damages done onto the gates have been refurbished to an even better quality than it was before.

"He hasn't got back to my latest letter, but I think he need not to. He will be coming down here with Jennie anyway. It is yours and her big day after all."

There's a pause for a moment, perhaps both of you thinking of the same.

"You didn't give up on Jennie, have you?" she asks, with much hope that you haven't. It is to her relief to know that you can't fall out of love with Jennie. You could never. "Rosie" you turn back to her when her tone softens, and there's something with the way she looks down at her lap that has chills running up your spine.

"What is it?" you ask.

"It's just that," she sighs again, looking up at you with empathy, "Jennie called me last night." she says. Had you expected something, this wouldn't have been it, "She asked about you." Surely what you hoped for, but not what you expected. "Well, first she asked about me with the injuries and what not- but I know it was all just so she could get to the point and ask about you"

"And what did she say exactly?" something she couldn't bring to ask me herself?

"She sounded scared for you," Lisa says, then rethinks, "And a little scared of you"

"Scared of me?" you would have told her everything. Everything she wanted to know without spite or embitterment for what's happened between you both. You wouldn't want anything more than to talk to her.

"She just asked if you have been sleeping at night" Lisa says softly, and you take in a sharp breath in attempt to stop your emotions from spiraling, "And she asked about your window? If its been fixed- I told her I knew of repairs being done." you nod your head, her having replied to Jennie the right thing. "I told her you hadn't mentioned any sleepless nights." You nod again as if to confirm you've been getting decent rest. In truth, you would only tell Jennie everything that wouldn't suggest her to worry about you, so forgetting about last night's sleep is just easier than explaining it.

"Is that all?"

Lisa purses her lips before speaking again, "Yes, that was it. She hung up before she could take another breath."

You ought to open the window so you could find an even breathing of your own.

"It will all come back to her once she sees you again, Rosie. This just shows that you're unshaken from her."

You wonder if it could be true that Jennie thinks about you more than you believe she does. If it is regret that hinders her from speaking to you directly, you wonder too. But you wouldn't know until you see her again. Whatever the reason, for what it's worth if what Lisa says is real, and for whatever sentiments Jennie holds on you, you will face it tomorrow.

And Jennie will face yours.

When you reach out for the latch of the window, you spot the royal carriage entering the gates. It rolls in, curving through the driveway- "Oh my god" you perch over the windowsill to get a better look.

"What?" Lisa asks.

You see the suitcases on suitcases mounted on top of the carriage, a head of long brown hair sitting by window- the door opens and you see oxford shoes—

"Come on, Lis!" in a surge of thrill and excitement, you take your best friend by the wrist and rush out the bedroom as fast as she can manage, making your way down the staircase.

"Chip what did you see?" she asks, totally bewildered by your sudden outburst.

You didn't know it would be today, but you're just so so glad it is- you turn the corner and head right for the grand doors, "See for yourself" you throw them open and time has never felt more at your favor.

"I see I've got a warm welcome"

"Kim Jisoo?!" Lisa exclaims in her shock.

And you just can't help yourself any longer- you skip down the steps and you throw your arms around Jisoo and your exuberance almost knocking you both down, "Finally" you expire, utterly relieved to have her back here with you and Lisa.

"Oh god Chu" Lisa crashes into you both, and you let her bask in Jisoo's presence, happy to see her so overjoyed that she has returned. You could hear the bubble of tears rising in Lisa's chest from the way Jisoo's name spills over her lips over and over.

Laughing heartily and gratefully, still enveloped in Lisa's arms, Jisoo smiles at you with the warmest gaze, one that had been waiting for this day, wishing it would ever come and it has, "Finally, indeed" she says, as she is home to stay.

Another part of your world has been restored. It seems almost unbelievable that the universe is granting you this much back. Your father and Jisoo within only a couple days.

In these past months, it seemed that when you had Jennie, you had rocky mountains between you and everyone else too. Whether the circumstances were coincidental to Jennie entering your life or not, you had to cross murky waters to get Lisa to trust you again, walk treacherous terrains to get Jisoo, climb the steepest slopes to get Suho, have desert upon desert separate you and your father more and more.

And now, you have them closest to your heart, have them back piece by piece and you're praying it is mere coincidence that you have them back but without Jennie.

That so help you god- Jennie was not the cost to have your loved ones back in one whole.

Not willing to dwell on the thought, you take Jisoo's hand once Lisa finally frees her from her crushing embrace, "Let's get you settled in, shall we?"

Though, not long into the vestibule do you take her because struck in awe and exaltation, a look of at long last, Suho gazes longingly at Jisoo, like he is falling in love with her all over again.

You hear your friend's breath hitch in her throat and from where your royal guard stands at the foot of the staircase, you can hear a thousand unsaid words swirling in the air between them, tying together like ropes. You can feel the gravity drawing them together.

You give her a push for extra measure, "Well go on then" you whisper, tugging Lisa to your side and slyly slipping away for their privacy. Looking back at them, neither tear their eyes away from each other, perhaps a little cautious that if they do, the other might disappear. But you know they need not to worry of such thing anymore.

Your kingdom has opened its arms for them. It accepts them and binds them.

So as they step toward each other, they can long for one another like this for many more days. They can look at each other like this for as long as love lasts because theirs has been freed.

•••

Smiling from ear to ear, you knock on your father's bedroom door. His guttural voice questions your presence, then shifts to delight when he hears your voice. You're met with a grinning face of his own, "I was just about to look for you" he says, stepping aside to let you in.

You rarely come in here. Never really did since mother passed, but you notice that nothing has changed. It is just as dim with the velvet drapes, old fashioned with the furniture, and everything mother is still in place. Her vanity, her jewelry, her bedside toppings, her robe on the closet knob- it's as if she is still here. As if your father has still been living with her all this time.

"I know what you must be thinking," father says from behind you, "but I just can't get myself to put her things away."

You step to the robe, the silk white dressing with embroidered petals relieving memories of bedtime stories and midnight snacks. You graze it lightly and you feel mother at the tips of your fingers. You take it in your hands and you smell her like you did when she held you close. Your tears fall on the sleeves like they did on her shoulder, like they did on her tomb when you said goodbye.

Your father hugs you like you wish he did when you were ten years old. His arms around you firmly to keep you together, but with all the comfort you need to shelter this loss. He holds you now like he wouldn't ever let go- promises that he won't and he holds you with mother between, "It will always be us three, Roseanne" he says, quiet and real, "It is always us three."

The emotions of both missing your mother and savoring the presence of your father are twirling in your chest to make you lose your breath every now and then. You walk around the courtyards with him before it is time he departs for a few days time to the lake house. You are almost jealous that he will be visiting the resting house after so long, not too down-casted anymore that he will be absent from the coronation face-to-face. It would be nice to have father enjoy the outdoors, free from Kingship duties.

"I acquired three televisions to watch the ceremony, you know" he says, making you laugh earnestly.

"You ought to just go on the canoe and bask in the sun"

"Do you presume that an old man like me could row himself a boat?"

You both chuckle at the image, "Perhaps, not."

After rounding the courtyards and reliving in timeless memories that are filled with your mother, you both head back inside. Upon walking down the first hall, your attention is caught by the wall and your jaw slacks with your heart beat pacing quicker.

"That's..." you go closer to the frame hanging proudly on display.

"Yours." Father says, standing beside you in admiration.

It's Orange. Your painting of him, hanging in the hall that would lead you to the courtyard and stables. It is fittingly hooked in the center and you never would have thought it would find its proper place in the palace.

"Did you put this up here?" you ask, half knowing he did and half unbelieving that you can see it right in front of you.

"I think he looks as dashing as he always was" your father comments with a smile, "you've done him great justice, and your work deserves to be admired." and he continues down the hall, confusing you for a moment. You take one more look at the painting, satisfied with its place, and you catch up to your father at the corner of the corridor, "It was only right to do the same for the rest."

Turning to the second hall, the sight takes your breath away and value pours in your heart until it overflows, "Father..." you just can't believe it. Painting after painting, all the roses you sketched and inked are fastened on the walls, displayed down the long hallway for everyone who passes by to see. Your entirety fills with a warmth you can't quite describe seeing the canvases you colored with the thought of your mother in every stroke, each one signed with your name on her tongue, Forever yours, Rosé - they hang purposefully in the hall to mother's music room. If she were here, she wouldn't miss a single one.

"She would be so proud of you, Roseanne" your father says, etched with his own pride for you, "I am certain she already is up in the clouds."

Overwhelmed by the spilling tears, you hug your father and bury your face in his chest, "Thank you," you cry, "Thank you, thank you, thank you" and I love you's following in a string of whispers.

To hear him say your mother would be proud is enough to make you believe in it. And to do the same for him, whether he sees you tomorrow with the crown in person or not, you will stand high and tall in your glory and you will uphold his honor.

•••

It's like it happens in seconds. The morning of the coronation rushes by in a blink, your early rise of the nerves, a moment longer bent over the toilet bowl, then your fidgety anticipation standing on a block as your royal dress is zipped to your figure- its extravagant pearl white linens curved to your body and gold detailed linings dazzling and lavishing black train behind your back. In the next second you're sweating buckets under the dress, your heart pounding out of your chest as you smile and wave to the cameras and your people who have gathered in joy and excitement at the streets of the town for the anointment of your reign. The milliseconds slow down as Jisoo to your side holds your hand through it all for support.

It is astonishing, the number of people who have come to stand outside the abbey to see you enter as the future Queen and come out as the crowned monarch. There are thousands of people and they all shout your name in exalt, look to you with bright faces. It is like what it was the day of the Cup, only tenfold- even the sky is as clear as day.

The suspense you had then was for the possibility that Jennie would beat you at the race, and now you grow skittish to just lay your eyes on her. You don't even know what you would say to her once you see her. After these days of longing to talk to Jennie, you're now out of words in your dry mouth.

God you can't believe the day is here.

"You're ready for this, Rosie" Jisoo says, gripping your attention to her comfort, "You've been working for this for so long" she smiles, squeezing your shaking hand.

"You will be there in case I fall right?" your somewhat of a joke makes Jisoo giggle, "And Lisa is already there?"

"She's seated right where you want her to be, don't you worry" she says, sighing happily as she looks at you fondly, "You're going to be Queen, Rosie. Enjoy it."

The nerves briefly escaped you when you arrived at the abbey. Exiting the carriage, your ears muffled in the cheers and hollers of the people for you. You stood at the grand steps in your royalty and all the sunny faces adored you. This, you were able to enjoy fully.

Then when you entered the abbey, you were led straight to the back door before you could see where the main event would be held and before the main event could see you, but you heard the chatter of the thousands of guests and your anxieties came back to you.

Waiting at the room just separated from the platform by a stone wall, your chest tightens with the suffocating wait for Jennie. You had just gotten word that her carriage has arrived and she could walk through that door any second, looking staggeringly beautiful in her coronation dress and unforgettably magnificent in her entirety.

You force yourself to go over the run down of the ceremony before you hurl just thinking about being within arms reach of her. You think about the cues and the marks, thinking about the important notes Ashley gave you at practice, and you run down the words you have to recite during the crowning and you think about your speech, seeing the red and black marks of the ink for every important line- you go over it again and again.

You're so invested in trying not to think about Jennie that you don't even notice the door had opened. You had turned your heel to pace around, but next thing you know is you're paralyzed in place to see Jennie herself standing right by the closed door, staring at you like she has been for a while now.

Staggering as you expected, but beautiful is an understatement.

"Hi" her small voice is first to fill in the air and you remember that you need some to stay conscious.

"J-Jennie, hi—" your voice catches in your throat and you swallow hard on the butterflies.

The silence is thick, pressuring you to say something but you still haven't quite found the words. Your eyes falter between her and the floor, your mind scrambling to make up your thoughts. Your heart drowning in every feeling of her.

"They're starting the opening rites" she says gently, slowly taking her place in front of the door to the platform, waiting for you to do the same just like you always practiced.

"R-Right, yes" the numbness of your legs carry you to her side and her aura radiates off her marvel. You feel it seep through your dress sleeves, into your skin and pumping in your veins. A shock runs down your arm, glancing down to see hers just inches away. And her hand that touched you in innocent gestures, the hand that held you on the coldest days- you want to feel the soft, tender palm in yours.

"On this majestic day of the 3rd of August, the Kingdoms of Marcadia will rest on the hands of two prosperous, young women..."

Your fingers reach out, ever so slightly, just in case they could actually touch her. You sneak a glance at Jennie, her face stern, though eyes averting down when a layer of heat is felt between you.

"The future Reign of Northern Marcadia, Your Royal Highness Princess Jennie Ruby Jane Kim,"

You get a little bolder, inching your hand to hers. She knows what you're doing, and she isn't resisting.

"and the future Reign of Southern Marcadia, Your Royal Highness Princess Rosanne Park,"

Your fingertips meet her hot skin and its lightest of touch ignites the passion, the love you feel for Jennie inside you- she holds her breath because maybe she feels it too—

"Marcadia's forthcoming Queens!"

With the touch alone, it is enough to make you draw back and you put all faith in the chance that Jennie still feels you.

The divinity of the abbey is striking. Its heavenly, like the angels are above you, singing their hymns of praise. The guests are poise, looking onward to you and Jennie throughout the ceremony. Your gaze could never linger over a face for too long, but every time your eyes fall on Suho by the sidelines, Ashley by the upper box, Rufus and Chanyeol at the second row, and your best friends, Jisoo and Lisa sitting on the chairs that your father and mother would have occupied, you are washed in eternal blessings.

You could even feel the nurturing consolation when you look at King Tae-oh and Queen Ara, and a brotherly gaze from Sehun behind them.

You hold on to their bearings, with your father's and mother's in mind all the same, and as the time has come, your heart has never felt so at ease. It beats in solace, a layer of confidence, and courage over what was so fragile. Wanted and honored.

You stand with Jennie, the royal orb and sceptres in hand.

You lift your chin. You straighten your back, and you stand in almighty as the crown is rested on top of your head- as you are crowned Queen of Southern Marcadia.

The cheers are music to your ears. The joy on everyone's face is enrapturing. You turn to Jennie and she smiles brightly, and so genuinely when she looks at you.

Jennie is ravishing in the crown.

"With great honor and acclamation, the Queen of Southern Marcadia, Your Majesty Queen Roseanne Park, will deliver her first address to the nation."

The guests grow quiet as you are first to make your speech. As the orb and sceptres are taken from yours and Jennie's hands, you find yourself glancing at her again. As she takes her seat on her throne, she nods her head, gesturing you to make your mark. A single gaze that carries you to the podium.

Your hands rest on top, where the familiar crumpled edges and inked lines on the papers remind you of how tirelessly you have worked to reach this point- the time of your deliverance to the people. The speech you have proclaimed in your mind and heart now has its chance to be impacted on history.

You glance at the people who will hear your address for the first time, their yearn for you to begin.

You look to the people who have heard it countlessly. And their confidence in you is sparking.

You find your voice in them.

"People of the Southern region. I, Roseanne Park, daughter of Mason and late Ellen Marie Park, stand before you today in gratified splendor, with great sense of obligation, with the grace and glory bestowed onto me from the heights above, as your Royal Majesty, your Queen." the conviction runs off your tongue with ease and elegance, sounding on the sacred stone walls, echoing on the angel high ceilings to trumpet across the nation. Your voice is strong and brave, affirmation bolded in the lines of certainty- the pledge to lead your people to triumph, the promises you will defend to achieve victories as one region. You use your voice to support your advocacies, speaking of every movement you aim to take with all of your mind, heart, and soul to let every citizen of Marcadia, whether under your rule or Jennie's know that it is real. That you mean everything you say.

You reach the last section of your speech. The original statements curated with your mentor crossed and written over with the pen you fell asleep with in your hand the other night. The words you have rewritten are deep in your mind, engraved with everything you believe in.

You look from the podium, catching the eyes of your loved ones and showing the confidence on your face to the nation. You face them, fearless.

"It had always been made known to me: the power that comes with the crown. A power that comes from God.

And it had always been made known to me that a person of the average family could only ever imagine what it is like to be the Queen. To be the monarch is to lead in deity for the people's sustenance. All my life I had been shaped and molded to be that strong, competent, and courageous leader to do exactly that. Yet, I feel heavily that there is still much I need to learn and evolve in to bring this country to its righteousness.

To be a member of the royal family, one with the heads of the state, it is not what you may perceive it to be. As I matured and grew to comprehend the royal duties further, as profound as they could be, it came to my attention that it was certainly not what I had discerned myself.

It had occurred to me, after confronting the hardships and arduous complexities of the crown, that to have such authority, such divinity, is not the mightiest power one could be endowed with.

Therefore, I close my address with this.

As the obligations of the crown had been made known to me, let me impart this on you.

There is something much, much greater than being a god.

It is love."

A ripple of what sounds like raindrops pouring over the dome of the abbey, from the entrance to where you stand in the conclusion of your speech- the breathtaking, the extraordinary sound of clapping descends in the cathedral, onto you.

You turn to Jennie, her eyes glazed in shock and in an epiphany, staring at your heart reflected in the way you look at her. You ensure that she sees that everything you meant true to your heart, that has been heard across yours and her nation straight from your voice, has the people standing on their feet.

Yours and Jennie's love, only known to you both, has the people of Marcadia applauding.

•••

      The cheers of the people when you stepped foot out of the abbey still ring in your ears. Remembering the clapping after your speech surges chills through you. You sit in front of your vanity, in the comfort of your room, looking in the mirror at a different you.

The Princess, the Rosie you were, so naive and fearful of the world that honed you, is now valiant. Steadfast and earnest, the Queen of that world.

You are confident enough to say that you have made yourself proud, just as much as everyone says you have for them.

It's so surreal. To be this happy.

And it could all be perfect. You know you have a good chance at a happy ending. You just need to wait for her to arrive.

In the rush of it all, after the ceremony, Jennie told you to wait for her at the palace, where she would come to you after all formalities with her parents were finished- it was a single favor strung out in a hurried sentence as she was led apart from you. A single favor that had you speeding home to wait for her return.

After the warmest welcome of congratulatory remarks from the servants, you went straight to your room and changed out of your vestments and into a simpler attire, something a little more you. You let down your wavy hair, lessened the accessories, and you phoned your father.

He was bursting with joy, exuberant as ever. You felt tears at the back of your eyes hearing him getting choked up on his own.

You keep them back as you press the phone closer to you, "I wish you both could have been there" you say, all the while holding on to mother's necklace around your neck, knowing well that she had seen you in all your glory like father did.

"I wish I was, too, my darling," he tells you honestly, "Ms. Kim and Ms. Manoban looked rather comfortable keeping our seats warm, didn't they"

Your father jokes like he used to. You speak with him in such lightheartedness that it is the most natural conversation you have with him thus far. Though, it is one you will have to continue for another phone call, better yet when you see him again. Because when Yeri knocks on your door, you're rushing your goodbyes and running out the bedroom.

Already knowing it's Jennie, you thank your handmaiden before she could tell you, running past her and down the staircase. You want to be at the vestibule when Jennie steps out of the carriage. You want to be the one to open the doors for her—

Those wants are short-lived, ending right when you turn the corner and you slow down at the first sight of the one you have been waiting for, the only missing piece of your future- the one you hope to have if she will let you. 

Jennie stops from her haste at the middle of the corridor, having spotted you too.

It is just like when you first laid eyes on her the night of the ball. In her godly black dress, her hair behind her shoulders, carrying herself so heavenly even as she hurries from tardiness. You captured that moment in your mind, every part, every inch, every stroke sketched and painted over your memory, down to the last detail of the way your heart slowed because you wanted to remember that feeling every time you pictured the enchanting moment from the night you told Jennie you love her.

With the parallels of that evening standing right there, now looking like your future instead of a clandestine fairytale, you walk toward Jennie. You don't crash into her like you wish, but instead, you meet her halfway, eyes never leaving her tearful ones that have plenty of unsaid words at the brim. You hear her sharp inhale and feel her heat, so close and real- just a step in front of you.

"Jennie" her name is sweet on your lips, you're ready to tell her you love her like it is the first time all over again, but you hesitate to reach for her to do so. "I-I—"

She seizes you in her soft hands, clasped firmly to the back of your neck and pulls you close, foreheads rested together- your bodies pressed as they always fit. As you always longed for this again.

Jennie's tears fall between you, "I'm so sorry, Rosie" she cries, and you hear her heart. Know it in its beat that she missed you, thought about you, cried for you, still loved you after all.

You cup her face and catch her tears, holding her shake.

"I was just so scared that the kingdoms would take you away from me and- and I thought it would be easier to let you go myself but I was wrong- I was terribly wrong, Rosie"

"Jennie," you understand—

"There is nothing more painful than losing you," her lips tremble on your thumb, speaking nothing but the truth, "There was not a second that went by that you were not on my mind and resisting to call you was painful in itself. And when the palace was attacked I really thought I lost you Rosie- I shouldn't have hung up the phone and just talked to you like I wanted because I knew- I knew I couldn't ever forget you and what we had no matter how hard I wanted to believe that this love isn't good for us. If my kingdom has to be without you then I do not want it."

Your eyes burn with tears, your entirety surrendering to Jennie's love. You hold her closer.

"And I couldn't get myself to lie to my own heart and forget about the mornings I woke up next to you believing I could do it again and again, morning after the next. I couldn't get myself to live without you Rosie because I love our late breakfasts, and I love our laughs echoing in the library- your laugh- and our walks on the trail, our kisses under the sky, our slow dances in the dark, our midnight conversations and everything you in between. I love this little secret of ours." Jennie looks into your eyes, giving you all of her in the way she loves you like this, "I love the way you make me feel, Rosie." she says, "You couldn't love me any more"

You pull Jennie in and you kiss her, pouring into each other all the passion you never let go of.

You embrace her, ravish her, love her, and you are ready to give her all of you for the rest of your days.

You know you are washed in her devotion because "I love you, Rosie" she says against your lips, over and over again and it is real.

"Be with me, Jennie" you promise you will love her forever.

"I'm yours, love" she says, written in the way she looks at you, "Forever, Rosie"

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