I stopped, unable to complete it. What could I say next? Could I ask his permission to pursue her? Should I mention Gabriel? I sighed and looked out the window as the day crept past at an unbearably slow pace. Why couldn’t it be tomorrow? Why did there always have to be another man between Charlotte and me?
I put down my quill and stared up at the ceiling. A few minutes later, Junho entered. “Oh, is that letter for Charlotte?” he asked, his dimples cutting into his cheeks.
“Of course not,” I said. “She has a husband.”
Junho sat on my bed and stared down at his hands. “You don't know why I intervened in that fight the other day, do you?”
I pushed a hand through my hair. If you had let him die, I might’ve had a chance with her… “Because you're a better man than I,” I said, throwing a crumpled piece of parchment at him, but he didn't smile. I sat up in my chair, unnerved.
“It was because of the things those men were calling him.” I replayed the incident in my mind, but no specific comment stood out. His voice shook. “They chose to attack him because he likes men.”
Relieved, I exhaled. “That's just something that people say—”
His gaze cut me. “No, it isn't.”
“B-but that's illegal.”
“So is going after someone else's wife.” He shook his head. “My point is, if two people love each other, why should that matter to anyone else?”
I stood. “Wait, you don't seriously believe that Charlotte's husband prefers men?”
“I do.”
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because I asked him.”
I sat beside him. “And he admitted it?”
He nodded.
My mind wandered to a meal I shared with Junho in Vires—with a man who'd watched him closely throughout the meal. My next question slipped out before I was ready to know the answer. “Why would he tell you that?”
Junho didn't answer and, in the silence, the answer hung between us. “Because you told him you prefer men too.”
We sat in silence as I processed what this new information meant to me. It felt like something big, something hidden, and as I replayed moments where Junho hadn't lied but hadn't completely told the truth, he waited, a stone-like expression on his face.
“I don't—” I started. I shook my head, organizing my words. “I don't think that changes anything between you and me.” His face flushed and we settled into an empty silence. If I recalled correctly, this was exactly the kind of uncertainty Charlotte's world always carried.
“Wait.” I sat up. “Does Charlotte know?”
He leaned forward with a huge smile. I must’ve seemed slow to him. There were so many things happening that I wasn’t aware of. His dimples pressed on his face. “That's actually why I'm here. I'm certain she knows. That's probably one of the reasons they decided to team up, so if you're thinking of using Gabriel as a reason not to try and work things out with Charlotte, let me be the first to put a stop to it.”
“This is a lot,” I said, running my hands through my hair.
He nodded. “So what's the plan?”
“I guess I'll have to prepare something special.”
He sucked in air, sharply. “I have a great idea!” He sprinted out the door and returned several minutes later, dragging a large sack with him.
“What is it?”
He reached inside and pulled out a handful of wilted cherry blossoms, the ones Merlin had conjured. Excitement surged through me but quickly faded. I remembered the look in Charlotte’s eyes the last time we spoke. I remember the pain our conversation caused her. Gabriel was more of a man than I’d given him credit for. He’d stepped into Charlotte’s life, put her back together, and helped her raise her child. All the things I ran from. I cringed. I’d accused Charlotte of moving on too quickly when she never moved on at all. When would I stop messing up?
After going over my past, all hopes of a romantic evening were dead. What was I even thinking? I knew there was no chance of Charlotte falling in love with me and certainly not of coming with me back to Vires. What I was asking her was impossible. What I’d done to her all those years ago was cruel—some of the things I’d said to her more recently were unforgivable, especially in regards to Gabriel. Even now, as I planned this elaborate dinner to win her, it seemed to reduce the gesture to a mere trick. So what then?
I lay back on my bed. Junho laughed. “Don’t lose nerve now.”
“She already said she can’t love me.”
Junho sighed. “Fine then, don’t prepare this dinner because you want her to love you. Do it because you’re sorry.”
I stared at the ceiling. “I just... want to be what she needs.”
“And what do you think she needs?”
I put my hands in my hair. “That’s the thing, I don’t think she needs anything.”
He lay beside me. “I disagree. I think she needs a friend.”
We lay in silence, our minds drifting like a branch in a stream.
“Minseo,” Junho said suddenly. “Thank you for, uh, listening. For… understanding.”
I closed my eyes. “Thanks for telling me.”
As we lay side by side, I wondered where I would have been four years ago if it weren’t for Junho. He’d always been there. He’d been carrying around a secret, afraid of what I might do or say. The only reason he dared share with me now was to help me with Charlotte. The more I thought about it, the more friendship seemed worthy to offer Charlotte. I could swallow my feelings for her sake. I’d done it before.
A knock sounded at my door, startling Junho and me. I hurried over and pulled the door open to find Hanbit nervously fingering a letter.
“This came for you,” he said, handing it to me. “It’s from your father.” I took the letter, trying not to read the look in Hanbit’s eyes that screamed the same thing my mind did. It’s always bad news. I ripped open the letter and held my breath as I scanned it, Junho’s gaze burning the back of my head.
Son,
The doctor has discovered the reason for Sumin’s infertility. He’s not well. You need to return to Vires immediately.
Sincerely,
Your father.
Sumin. Strong, brave Sumin isn’t well. I could only recall a handful of conversations I’d had with him since Young died. He always seemed cold and disconnected, but I wondered if he’d been sick all along and I was too consumed in my own sorrow to notice. I wasn’t sure how bad things were, my father didn’t specify, but the fact that he’d signed it your father worried me. Was I going to lose another brother?
Junho and Hanbit waited, hardly breathing as I sorted through the news. “My brother is sick. They want me to come home,” I said, unable to process the words as I said them.
Junho took me by the arm and led me to the bed. He guided me into a seated position.
“Deep breath,” he said.
I tried, but the air stung, caught in my lungs, and stabbed at my head.
“How bad is it?” Hanbit asked, earning a malicious glare from Junho. I held up the letter and Hanbit and Junho leaned together to read it.
Hanbit blinked wildly. “I’ll prepare the men for the trip,” he said.
“Wait.” I held my arm out. “Just wait.” I rubbed my palm across my face. “I can’t go,” I said.
Habit shook his head. “B-but you must. It’s an order from the king. You might become the only living heir to the Viran throne.”
“He said no,” Junho barked. “Now get out.”
I reeled in silence and Junho paced in front of the door.
I wasn’t going to leave Charlotte again. I didn’t care if she’d never forgive me. I didn’t care if she never loved me. I was at a crossroads, one similar to the one I’d faced five years ago. But even if I defied my father, even if I wasn’t there for Sumin, and no matter the cost of this decision, I knew this time I’d choose Charlotte. I’d choose Charlotte every day for the rest of my life.
19
&nb
sp; Merlin
Lancelot lay serenely on his arm at the banquet table as the feast commenced. Whenever his seemingly lifeless body drew the attention of one of the courtiers, I faked a laugh and offhandedly mentioned, “You know how soldiers are with their wine,” an explanation that seemed to instantly quell their worried faces. The room got louder as the party reached its full swing. In fact, I spotted several other people with their heads down on the table from drinking too much—a blonde with curls pinned to her head and a soldier with a vaguely familiar crest. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that I’d drugged Lancelot. But Arthur knew.
The king eyed Lance from the head of the table, no doubt disappointed by his lack of reaction. An hour later, when Lancelot hadn’t moved, Arthur’s glances at me indicated he knew I’d intervened. It was all too cruel. Gwenevere didn’t so much as glance at her former love once throughout the feast. She smiled, like a blushing bride-to-be, while she chatted with her sisters—all as red-haired and lovely as her, but only she would be queen. Arthur could have chosen any of them and spared Lance. This was intentional. I sucked in frustration. They hadn’t even warned him. I shuddered to think what hot-blooded thing Lance might have done if I hadn’t intervened. Attack the king? Be executed for it? I felt my power surge inside me, and my thoughts returned to the dream. I was angry enough at Gwen to set her on fire, and she certainly deserved it. But fire wielding was not among my abilities.
When the first few courtiers left the party, I knew it was a good time to pull Lance out of there. I supported his weight on my hip and slung his arm over my shoulder. I used precise gusts of wind to help move his legs and lift some of his weight and, in a few minutes, I laid him down in his chamber.
Furious, I hurried back into the hallway and wandered aimlessly through the castle. It seemed so empty outside of the ballroom and the dining hall. All the guards must’ve been enjoying the party since everyone important was there. Before I knew it, I was pushing open door after door, searching for the lion-centered crest of Gwynevere's house. Six rooms, seven, eight. Finally, I pushed through and froze as I stared up at her crest on the back wall. But this room could have belonged to one of Gwenevere’s sisters. I wasn’t convinced it was hers.
I pushed open the door to another chamber. The crest again. Another and another. Finally, I pushed open a chamber where the crest was hidden behind a long white ball gown and veil.
I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. My heart beat a warning—blue fire. Blue fire. I climbed into the closet without an idea of what I was doing there.
I shook, my mind drifting to my mother’s face. “She’s a witch,” she’d said, “kill this ungodly child.”
Blue fire. Blue fire. Blue fire. I felt sparks burn the palm of my hands, and a blue glow filled the closet. But my mind was too occupied. Gwenevere should pay for what she did, I seethed. With this huff of a candle burning out, a pale blue flame flickered in my palm. I gasped as new energy surged through me. It stung in my blood, like spice in the mouth. One gust of wind against the flame was all it would take to ignite her.
The creek of the door startled me as Gwen’s footsteps sounded in the room. I heard the scratch of her gown on the floor and an exasperated sigh. I gazed at the flickering blue flame in my palm. Witch, I heard my mother say. But I was not. I took as deep a breath as I could in silence and closed my hand into a fist, snuffing out the flame and stepping out of the closet.
She gasped. “Merlin, you shouldn’t be here,” she said, a quiver of fear in her voice.
“Gwenevere,” I said, unable to make eye contact. “You should have at least warned him.”
She sat on her bed, a move of surrender—her gold and white dress a puffy cloud around her. “He was gone—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, feeling my palm spark. I calmed myself with another deep breath. “Whatever your reason, it’s him that you owe the explanation to.” I stepped closer. “And you will explain yourself to him.”
She straightened her posture. “You dare threaten the future queen of Camelot?”
“I dare threaten the weak and helpless bitch...” I held my hand out with the blue flame hovering just above it, “that could be turned into a pile of ash if I breathe too hard.”
She stared into the flame, a mixture of wonder and fear in her eyes, then she turned away. Her gaze got distant as if she’d remembered something. Something that had nothing to do with my threats. She sighed sweetly. “I’ll talk to him.”
20
Charlotte
Minseo. Infuriating. What did he expect? I pulled on my dress, slipping my arms into it and reaching around my back for the ribbons. How could two brothers be so different? How? And there he was lecturing me about how I’d edited my memories. I scoffed. Wasn’t he with Milly? Ha, he’d conveniently left that out of his little speech. I laced up my dress, cinching it harder than I usually did.
Sure, Young was hard to know. He hardly spoke at all, but it only took a few minutes to know what kind of man he was. A man of honor brimming with empathy and selflessness. Minseo was the opposite, always running a game.
Even if we’d spoken every day since we’d met, I wouldn’t know what his intentions really were. Only that wasn’t completely true, was it? When I replayed those memories, I saw something new. I saw how he started to look at me back then. I heard the softness in his voice, felt the heat of his gaze on my face. Had I always known about his feelings? Had I continued to visit him despite them? Maybe I was to blame. I sighed as I gazed at my reflection. I was not a princess but a woman who once made decisions without considering others.
I pulled my curls out of my face. Why would they never look the way I wanted? But I was too tired to fix them. I pushed open the door to the living room.
“How’s this one?” I said, stepping out of the bedroom.
“Beautiful!” Morgana exclaimed. I twirled.
Gabe flipped a page in his book and, without looking, he said, “It’s just as nice as the other seven.”
“Wait,” I said. “Let me try one more.”
“You know,” I heard Gabriel say, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a thing for Minseo.”
I stepped back into the living room.
“What thing?” Morgana asked, climbing onto Gabriel’s lap.
“I don’t. I just want to feel good. Strong, you know?”
“So, part of you feels weak around him?”
“Enough.”
He closed his book. “Why are you fighting this? Anyone can see that there’s something there. You have a chance to be happy.”
Morgana scrunched her nose. “What’s there?”
“I am happy!” I walked over and threw myself into a chair. “Why doesn’t anyone think that I’m happy?”
I felt the tug of tiny hands on my arm. “Like this!” Morgana said, baring her missing teeth like a lion ready to attack.
“See?” Gabriel said smugly. “Like that.”
A knock at the door sounded.
“Quick!” I whispered. “Tie this!” Gabriel hurried over and tied the two strings on the back of my dress into a bow.
Morgana threw the door open. “Minseo!” she yelled, throwing her arms around his knees. “Morgana!” He knelt in front of her, handing her a pink flower. “You look beautiful.” She twirled. I looked over at Gabriel whose face said it all. No outfit on earth was going to make me strong enough for this. Minseo stood, and his gaze moved to me. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look nice too,” he said, handing me a pink flower. “Ah,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out a letter, handing it to Gabriel, “Junho asked me to give this to you.”
Morgana pulled on Minseo’s jacket until he took her hand. I forced myself not to smile. Gabe opened the letter, and we stood in uncomfortable silence as his eyes skimmed the page.
Finally, he laughed, looking down at his hands. He turned to Minseo. “He can tell by my hands?” Minseo shrugged, and Gabriel disappeared into
the bedroom, emerging a minute later with a wooden lute.
Things felt different today. It might have been Morgana’s presence putting us all at ease, or maybe Minseo and I were tired of the battle, but somehow our little group set out together for dinner. It was just a meal, but food had always been synonymous with family—a thought that pushed me back and forth between calm and nervous, like the waves of yellow grains in the wind.
Minseo led us to the forest's edge near a pond, not unlike Gabriel had a few weeks before. I began to suspect a conspiracy. Morgana and Minseo chatted hand in hand as we drew closer. Morgana stopped. “It’s magical!” she screamed, and she took off in a sprint towards the pond. The pond and surrounding areas were covered in tiny white flower petals. Candles floated on the pond’s surface, the reflection of flickering light peeking through the spaces between the petals. A large quilt was set out and on it an array of carved fruits and pastries that, by the smell, were undeniably made by Lynn.
“Careful,” Gabe called after her, hurrying to catch up. Minseo stopped and, in a few steps, we stood side by side. For the first time that night, we had a few minutes alone.
The sun started to set, illuminating our picnic in gold.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Thank you for doing all this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said. We walked toward the pond, the back of his hand mistakenly brushing mine. He stopped. “Charlotte, I just wanted to apologize for everything. For leaving. For that stuff I said the other day. I know a fancy picnic doesn’t make up for any of that, but I just want you to enjoy yourself. There’s no pressure.” He bit his bottom lip. “There are no expectations.”
My stomach fluttered as the handsome prince returned. I felt more than nervous— I felt scared. Words. I needed words. “Okay,” I managed. His face brightened, a gust of wind pushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked a lot like he did when we’d first met confident, handsome, devious. Half in memory, like I’d done that day, I turned to where I’d first seen Young but, of course, I gazed out at the open air.
Kingdom Soul Page 8
