Chapter One

1•••

   The casket is enclosed in the tombstone. A rectangular, grey, cobbled case that rests above the ground with mother's name engraved on its smooth solidity.

   In loving memory of Royal Ellen Marie Park.

Remembered by your husband, King Mason, daughter, Princess Roseanne and all of Southern Marcadia.

The final chorus of "Farewell, My Love.", sung by the hymnal choir fleets into the misty fog surrounding Mount Park Major, which in fact is not a mountain, but a plateau- the resting place of the Royal Park family bloodline, where generations of dignified and noble family members lie above the ground in identical tombs- where at the end of your life, you will join the relatives you never met.

You will be reunited with your mother who has been laid to rest. In time, your father will be one with the stones, too. Though, you try not to think about it.

Your lawful relatives, families of alliances, mother's closest friends, and palace laborers begin to disperse as the last note comes to a cease.

You stare at the stone that separates you and the warmth you had been basked in, touched with, and loved by dearly for only ten years. You cry the heaviest of tears because you will endure life longer without your mother, than she was with you. You don't understand why she had to be taken away. You had done nothing wrong and she kissed you to bed the other night just like every night.

You stare at your father, who stands in front of his lost love with trembling shoulders and shaking hands and you ache to feel its squeeze.

But when you step forward, you're towered by a tall man of sophistication. You don't have to lift your head to meet your guest's gaze because he kneels down in front of you and wipes your tears. "Our deepest condolences, little one." his sincerity wisps in your ears because it means she is really gone. "The North has your mother and your Royal family in their prayers." you follow his gaze as he stands up and intertwines his hand with his wife in her neatly pressed black attire.

She brushes your hair gently, "She will be dearly missed, Roseanne." She has hands like your mother's and you well with more tears to the touch.

Though, you straighten on your back and bow your head in respect of their condolences, "Thank you, his and her majesty."

The King and Queen of Northern Marcadia say their goodbyes and you watch them take the hand of their own little girl as they walk away.

She's just as young as you, and you hope that she never has to experience the crippling loss of a loved one.

•••

   "Smile, Princess!"

The lightning flash of the camera blinds you and leaves green and purple spots to your vision for a minute or two, as the royal guards lead you from the entrance of the Grand Stables and into the common area of the establishment, where guests for today's meet await.

Approaching the open doors, you adjust the cufflinks to your white polo and secure the buttons of the matching white overcoat. You glance at your white pants and down to your black paddock boots sounding on the wooden planks with each footstep toward the open doors.

You hear chortles, cling clanking of glasses, and endless chatter as you near the common area. It sets you up for repetitive conversation with the rich and noble who are always in attempt to put in a good word for themselves. You're already in dread for the rest of your stay.

But you smile as early as you step one boot in the room.

Your presence quiets the chattering amidst the guests. Eyes are on you. You try to smile with more sincerity.

The wooden staff pounds the floor twice, "Your Royal Highness, Princess Roseanne of South Marcadia." it pounds another two times.

The room bows for you and as they lift their heads— "Thank you, Suho." you direct your attention to your royal guard to avoid the awkward three seconds of two aristocratic families trying to get the first interaction with you.

"Princess," today it is the Shins. "Your Highness, it is a pleasure to see you here today." the breadwinner, Sir Shin Dong-Il bows in unison with his wife, Mrs. Shin and daughter, Ryujin. You return the sign of respect.

"The pleasure is mine." you speak meekly, half-heartedly.

"Our daughter is particularly excited to see you on the course this afternoon. We're rooting for you and your ranks, Princess." Mrs. Shin brings her daughter forth and you smile at the beaming girl, dressed in Sunday's best.

"I very much appreciate your kind words, Mr. and Mrs. Shin." you say, practicing the script for next conversations of the same meanings. "I'm certain Ryujin will make a fine rider when she's old enough for the race."

They blush and giggle.

"I don't mean to interrupt," but Sir Lee Joo-young does anyway. You try to ignore the glares of the Shins being pushed aside. "but it is lovely to see you, Your Highness." You are used to the man's oblivion of his heedless, courteous acts. You glance at Suho, who clears his throat in attempt to stifle a laugh at Sir Lee's right angle of a bow.

You can't help but chuckle yourself. "Pleasure, Sir Joo-young. The boots are very comfortable." I commend his works. He may be brash to everyone but royalty, but he is a fine craftsmen and tailor of no one alike- someone father chose to design our dressings and custom-made items since he became king.

"I assure you, Princess, these boots will be today's lucky charm." he giddies over the leather. "And I already have the perfect design, ready to be worn for the big Cup!"

You jump in surprise at his sudden exclaim and laugh forcefully with him. "You're too kind, Sir Joo-young." You glance at Suho a second time and he knowingly, steps forward.

"If you would excuse the Princess, Sir, she will be heading forth the stables."

"Of course," and down he goes, "Your highness." ninety degrees low.

You mumble gratification to Suho as he escorts you to the double doors on the right. You find Jisoo behind it. You're relieved to see a friendly face, your trusty mentor, but drop your shoulders when she comments, "You were slouching." handing you your black leather gloves.

"Could you tell I don't really want to be here?" You walk down the corridor leading outside to the stables with Suho and Jisoo by your side. You wish you were in bed, spending the beautiful sunny day- indoors. "I just don't understand the point of a pre-cup meet if all the other participants are just going to hand the finish line to either Princess."

You've heard the stories from your father in his time. The other racers, the sons of the rich and noble, never dared to out-horse the soon to be King of South Marcadia and soon to be King of North Marcadia. The title was made to be won by royalty and the race is merely between the two majesties in line for their thrones. Other participants are present for mere curtesy. This year is no different, only it will be the daughters of the rich and noble trailing behind you and your only competition.

"I know how Kim races." you've read the papers, too. You've seen pictures of the North Princess astride on her jet black horse with the cheekiest smile known to their people, the headline reading, Princess Jennie Kim bound for the Cup!. "There's no point in ranking the racers in today's meet if there's only going to be two."

"It's just a formality, Rosie." Jisoo scolds.

"It's a waste of time."

"It's your chance to finally meet with the Princess of the Northern region."

"We've met before."

"A mere glance of Her Highness eleven years ago is hardly a first impression. You will shake hands with Princess Jennie and you will need to have good report if together, you will be fulfilling your last few months of duties as a princess. You still want to be queen, don't you?"

"Father really put you up to this, didn't he?"

She dismisses my inquiry. "Besides, this will only happen once in your lifetime- you're only crowned Queen once and you will never have to put your mind on the Marcadia Equestrian Cup again. Surely, you can spare an hour or two."

You can't argue with her words. The Cup only occurs every time a new ruler is crowned in both regions of Marcadia. The North and South royal families swear on tradition to conceive their first child on the same year, for when they come of age as twenty-one, they are to compete in the Equestrian Cup before their coronation as Kings or Queens of the country.

"Well, I suppose." You can't deny the few hours of the day either, as you have been preparing for this for nearly five years.

You try not to look at the framed photographs of past champions of the Marcadia Cup, many generations of Parks for each title they have earned. You try harder to walk passed the frame your father holds. But you can't help but look to the space beside it, where the burning passion in you envisions your photograph front and center.

It will be your only chance to win.

"Hurry up now," Jisoo calls from ahead of you, "you want to go home as soon as you like, wouldn't you?"

You glance at Suho with eyes of desperation- my faithful, devoted protector, please send me back to the palace—

He shrugs his shoulders in return.

   You breathe in a gust of fresh air before advancing in the stables, where the other racers are dressed in full gear, tending to their horses. The South daughters are to the left of you, acknowledged with a blue and white Marcadian flag pin to their region's colors, while the North girls are to your right, with a red and gold pin of their own.

As you pass, you smile, share greetings, and return head bows, but you're confused when you don't land on a familiar face, the only face you need to remember, in one of the red and gold.

"I'll be waiting by the sidelines, Your highness." Suho excuses himself.

"Not gonna chase him, Jisoo?" you tease your companion.

"Certainly not, Princess." she mutters, but her lingered gaze on the vacating guard says otherwise. You wonder when she will ever have the courage to converse with him casually.

"Rosie!" you snap your head up at the nickname. You direct your attention to the flailing arms and peaking bangs from your stable, a grin spreading across your face. "Rosie!"

Jisoo sighs "For heaven's sake.".

You jog to the gate of your designated stable where Lisa strokes your lifelong stallion's golden mane.

"Orange is dashing today, isn't he, Rosie? He's incredibly excited to run the course. He won't quit neighing aaaaaand," her eyes go wide once she spots the daggers over my shoulder. "hiii Jisoo." she chuckles nervously.

"What did I tell you about nicknames when we are not the only ones around, Lalisa?"

"No nicknames at all." Lisa clears her throat and averts her gaze down to the hay, acknowledging her repeating mistakes.

You give Orange a kiss and run your fingers over his muzzle, the streak between his brown hair is as white as snow.

"And how many times must I remind you not to scream and holler such nickname when we are clearly not the only ones around- let alone not to scream and holler at all?"

"It's fine, Jisoo." You insists that the participants didn't turn heads when you were called informally by a mere stable girl to their eyes. You're growing tired of hiding your candidness with the friendship you have with Lisa and Jisoo, as they are not and never were just a hostler and a scholarly mentor.

"Won't happen again, my lady." Lisa mocks a curtsey with an invisible dress in exchange for her polo, jeans and boots.

"I'll be at the deck with the rest of the spectators. Good luck with you." Jisoo tiptoes through the hay on her favorite pair of brown oxford shoes, careful to retain it stainless.

Lisa mounts your newly customized saddle over Orange. "Ready for the race?"

You help her secure it. "I think five years of your father's ruthless training has prepared me enough."

"None of the heebie-jeebies or unsettling croissants?"

You shudder thinking of the last time you had too much of bread & butter before training and the projectile image of it coming out of you after riding laps with Orange. The memory of four months ago is still clear to this day. "I skipped breakfast." you mumble, knowing yourself all too well.

"Good, I won't have to carry you back to the palace, then." Lisa tosses you your helmet but you barely catch it. Your hands are clammy and there's a wedge in your throat. You're parched from unnerving suspense kicking in as the line up could start minutes from now.

Training hadn't taught you much on keeping your nerves at bay.

"Chanyeol hasn't come to watch?" You hoped to see his beaming grin on a day like this.

"He's with father working back at the palace stables. They both send their good wishes, but they know you could place first on the ranks." she brushes on Orange's hair tenderly.

You try not to show Lisa how her older brother's absence is affecting you. You don't want to take a risk of her suspicions rising because as far as your best friend is concerned, Chanyeol is simply as much of an older brother to you as he is to her.

And you force that upon yourself for the hundredth time, piercing it through your skull and pushing it down your throat because it should be just as simple to withdraw your innocent infatuation for someone you cannot share it with, let alone think about in such means.

You are a princess.

He is a stable boy.

"Are you getting cold feet, Princess?" Lisa pulls you out of the reoccurring thoughts of distress. She's already pulled your stallion out of his respective stable, just as everyone else has. "What are you thinking about?"

"N-Nothing." you secure your helmet over your blonde head and slide the gloves over your perspiring palms. You walk over to Orange and take his reins from Lisa, who raises an eyebrow for cross-examination.

"You're not worried she might beat you, are you?"

"Don't be a fool, Lisa." you lock your foot on the stirrup and mount your loyal stead. "She hasn't even shown up. Too scared, I reckon." You snarl in pride. You wonder why you were ever so nervous only moments ago.

"Take another look, Princess."

You look down at Lisa, and your gaze follows to her fixated stare beyond the open gate and out into the course.

You have no doubts.

The shadowed stallion gallops fiercely around the curve. The slim silhouette of the equestrian is graceful on the saddle, all the while holding control over her horse- like it's so easy.

You can't divert your eyes away, because they are just picturesque.

They round the corner and the sun shines down on the brunette's entity, a golden aurora surrounding her charcoal ensemble as she approaches the stables in a slowing pace.

You see the glowing skin, the parted lips, and the tied hair flying behind her shoulders.

You've seen the papers.

"She's been going around for a few laps. She must be eager to race."

"I wasn't aware the course was open for a warm up." you can't catch the words before they are muttered. There's a harder pound to your chest, a steering drive in you to win this race by a landslide. You're heating in dignity and confidence.

"Rosie," Lisa whispers, but you don't tear your gaze away from the competition as she pulls to a halt by the sidelines. "start off strong and keep the momentum. Her horse must be tired from the laps, they won't catch up."

The brunette smiles at the guests on deck.

So, very, cheeky Kim.

"You're not about to hackle, are you?"

You snap your head down. "Are you doubting me, Lalisa?"

"Never." she smiles genuinely. "But if you do feel the churns, keep them tamed until after the race."

Your ego is about to snark in return, but the horn blows.

"Show time, Princess."

And your stomach tightening stops you from uttering another word.

Perhaps, there are still a few churns.

You look back at where the North Princess was, but you find she is already in place at the starting post, adjusting her black gloves.

With a deep inhale to muster all the focus you could, you lead Orange to the posts.

The space for you is right next to her.

You don't know if this would be a good time for introductions. She hasn't even taken one glance at you despite having positioned yourself right by her peripheral vision.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer sounds off on the speaker horns, giving the opening remarks.

The brunette flips the tail of her hair to her other shoulder- a perfect opportunity for her to acknowledge you but she doesn't.

"Our Equestrians take their positions."

She doesn't even take one glance at you and you're bewildered with her disposition. She's in your region, your stables, under your rights to a proper greeting.

"And the horn blows in three..."

You immediately turn away because you hadn't realized you were staring at her.

You grip on the reins and you lean forward.

"Two..."

This is your race.

The gates drop and you're one with the wind, dashing down the line in steady momentum. The queerness in your stomach disperses and you feel light, soaring down the course in finesse. The wind gusts to your speed, eliminating the announcer's commentary and gallops of your contenders behind you and it feels amazing- you're in the lead, just as easily as if you're at the palace stables with Lisa and Chaenyeol. The excitement rushes through your veins like bolts of lighting striking in you, igniting your determination to widen the gap between the ranks. You're enjoying this all too much that you wish these races didn't have to last for only half a minute or less.

Approaching the curve, you tug on the reins and— "Yes!" Orange rounds it perfectly. You're in sync with your stallion, in no doubt of harmony coming up short.

Taking a glance behind you as you near the finish line, you spot your only competition close, catching a glimpse of the tenacity on her face.

"Come on, Orange" you encourage your partner, standing on the stirrups, leaning further forward- you're going to win!

The line is clear and drawing closer and closer and—

"Yes!"

Your heart drops at the sound of the horn. The wind knocks out of you as the black stallion and it's Northern Princess gallop ahead of you, victory in their strides.

You've lost the race.

At the brink of winning, she overtook your rank of placing first- leaving you as second, just as good as last.

You're speechless at the outcome, baffled and in denial of how it was possible because there was no way she could have— the practice should have— Lisa said she wouldn't—

"Princess Jennie Kim tops the ranks of the Marcadia Equestrain Cup Pre-meet with Princess Roseanne Park close in second and Ms. Im Nayeon in the third of ranks..."

As Orange slows down, you look up to the deck where the guests and spectators clap and wave at darling Jennie Kim atop her horse. Though, you don't go completely unnoticed as your people take glances and flash smiles of encouragement toward you and you can only hope that the smile barely plastered on your face is convincing enough for your disappointment to go unnoticed.

You spot Jisoo among the crowd and she is not induced in the slightest, but her smile is genuine and comforting. Coming to a full stop, you jump off Orange and lead him back to the stables.

"You did great, Rosie!"

You might as well start running to wallow in your shame, hidden at the palace, to spare yourself of any more embarrassment.

"Hey," you can't even look at your friend- who came all the way here just to watch you win, only now she is to be the bearer of bad news to her brother, whose absence you are now thankful for and her father- oh good lord her father- your coach of the five years worth of dedication to training- all the hard work halfway down the drain. "Rosie, it's okay."

"I lost." you still don't understand how because first place was at the palm your hands, only until it wasn't.

"That doesn't matter, now does it? This was just the pre-meet, the chance to get a taste of what's to come and prepare for it."

"I'd rather hand the Cup to the Princess face to face than have all of Marcadia watch me lose against her if that is what I need preparing for." the thought of that is what makes this loss as heavy as it is. You've lost plenty of times before in practice, even a couple private races with relatives, but they have never hurt your pride- maybe just a tad for each one father was watching. But this, this is humiliation.

You close the gate of Orange's stable and yank your helmet off. You don't dare look behind you as the participants file in.

"Rosie,"

You tug off your gloves.

"Hey"

You let your hair down, the tightness of the bun was beginning a headache.

"Your Highness"

For christ's sake "What?"

You lose your breath a second time.

She's standing right across from you, Jennie Kim, alight her black stallion and planting both feet down on the hay. She has a face of contentment while speaking to her stable boy, a gummy grin on her face. And you notice the papers hadn't done her justice. Her glowing skin is incomparable in person, even with a few meters a distance. She's slim and fit, accentuated by the sleek black attire. Her eyes are probably your favorite feature. You had never seen feline eyes before.

But still, she has not glanced your way.

"I'll meet you at the palace." you say, but Lisa pulls you right back. She stands beside you, back straight, hair brushed back, and hands together with a curve to her lips as she faces the North Princess from a far. "Are you not going to introduce yourself, Your Highness?" she mutters through smiling teeth.

"Drop the playact, Lalisa. And if any introductions are to be made, it should start with her." You scowl at the Princess.

Though you find it hard to keep a frown as she appears to be very happy, proud of herself and her stead as she strokes him with care.

"Perhaps, she is..." Lisa ponders. "Shy."

"Shy?"

"This is your region."

You wonder if the Princess is intentionally oblivious to your presence, in hesitation to approach you first. You reckon you would feel the same way have the tables in reverse. "Timid?" It's plausible.

"I wouldn't question it, Princess."

You take a deep breath and tell yourself that Lisa may be right- put the sulking to rest and royal ethics to the plate. A broken reputation because of an embittered attitude is unacceptable.

Neither would you want to diminish the joy in front of you just because it isn't yours to celebrate.

Stepping up to her stable, you clear your throat. "Excuse me," you catch the attention of her stable boy, who moves aside with a respectful bow.

And Jennie Kim finally looks at you.

"I am Princess Roseanne,"

Exceptionally feline.

"it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Jennie." you extend your hand with a genuine smile. You feel good having taken initiative in starting good report as Jisoo said.

"I'm honored." but it dies as her voice is cool and sharp and she releases the handshake before you do- a gesture you are not used to as no one would dare let go of your hand first. And she picks up the brush and returns to combing her stallion- no introduction of her own, a simple hello, nor proper display of appreciation for your warm welcome.

You stand puzzled, unsure of what to do. What conversational phrases follow up to that? You glance back at Lisa whose eyes are pinned to the boy dismantling equipment. Sehun, his name embroidered on his apparel.

And you turn back to the brunette. "Congratulations on winning the ranks." you say, giving her another chance to return pleasantries. "Your stallion is quite fast." you swallow hard in admittance.

"Thanks, Roseanne."

You nearly choke on your saliva.

Thanks?

Roseanne??

She's broken all the rules of a textbook Princess with only four words to you- two of faint genuineness and two of informality.

You question whether the brunette is a princess at all!

"This is Kuma." she says and you're utterly dumbfounded that she has presented her horse before herself. "He says thanks, too."

Thanks???

"Your Highness,"

"Yes?" you both turn to the name, but you firmly believe it shouldn't even apply to her.

Though the guard in red and gold says otherwise, "The King and Queen request your presence at the common area, Princess Jennie." he states. Jennie hands the brush to her stable boy and walks past you- truly as if you are not even there!

"W-wait—" you weren't quite finished—

"I look forward to having lessons with you," she glances to you over her shoulder, "Roseanne." and flashes a wink before leaving you paralyzed.

You stand wordless and agape. No one- not a soul has ever spoken to you like... in such... You're not even sure how to describe it because this is the first time you've encountered someone like her. Neither Jisoo or Lisa, your closest and longest friends, have ever spoken to you in ways remotely close to this, not even in heated arguments or disagreements.

Lisa stands beside you, no bother in breaking your eye contact with the space the Northern girl stood only moments ago.

And neither can you manage to move when you hear Jisoo's voice from behind. "Your father is expecting you at the palace, Rosie."

You wish you hadn't been so confident. You've been embarrassed once again.

"An introvert..." Lisa speaks, "...I suppose."