sɴᴏᴡᴛᴀᴇ│ᴛᴋ [reposting]

.ɪ.

The land was vast. The people were many. Yet the Mirror saw everything. And the young prince who lived in the castle didn't go unnoticed. The soft skin, the sparkling eyes, the ashen hair, the crimson lips— It didn't matter that he was dressed in rags. The Mirror saw through it all, from the grandest artifice to the meekest attire. And the boy's beauty shone despite the shadow his royal stepmother constantly and purposely cast over him.

The Queen's efforts to win the unwinnable war against time were becoming desperate. Her sorcery could only do so much to keep the wrinkles at bay. Underneath the cosmetic tricks and spells was an ageing and bitter woman who could only exist under the Mirror's gaze. Its eye was sharp, its judgement, impartial. She feared it as much as she cherished it. As long as it went her way.

But the day the trusted Mirror glanced at the prince instead of returning her flawless silhouette, she felt betrayed beyond reason.

༺ 🍎 ༻

"Kill him! And bring me back his heart."

The hunts woman's stomach clenched, but she didn't flinch, her left knee on the floor and her eyes on her queen.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Your Majesty, you're asking me to—execute the Prince?"

"If I were to have him executed, I would have called upon the executioner. Is that what you are, hunts woman? An executioner?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"So tell me again. What is it you have to do for me?"

"I must—assassinate Prince Taehyung and bring you his heart."

"Precisely."

"May I enquire about—the motive?"

The Queen sighed, annoyed. "If I had to give a reason and advocate my motives, I would be standing in the middle of the royal courtroom, pleading my case. And I would not have the need for an assassination now, would I."

༺ 🍎 ༻

"Grab your bow. We're going hunting."

The hunts woman did not have to say it twice. The young prince threw the dish towel in the air in excitement and ran out of the kitchen. She chuckled at the boy's eagerness. Despite the chores and the constant reprimands from non-other than the Queen herself, he had always somehow managed to keep his spirits high and his smile, bright and sincere.

Her grin soon faded though, her thoughts on the task at hand. She opened her leather satchel and started stuffing it with supplies. A loaf of bread, some hard cheese, dry sausage, a bunch of dried fruits that she carefully wrapped in a clean cloth, and an empty water bag.

"We'll just have to fill it up on the way," she muttered to herself.

"Are you ready?"

The young man was standing at the door, arms crossed and face beaming.

She knew she would never be ready for what was to come, but returned his grin nonetheless. They stepped out into the courtyard and headed towards the royal stables.

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