"do you... trust me?" it's a low whisper, the king's soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never...
you never thought you would smile like this again, but here you are. and here he is, by your side.
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"How do I look, mom?"
Standing before the mirror, you nervously smooth the delicate sash of the pink hanbok for the hundredth time, careful not to lean down too much and dislocate the floral ornament carefully pinned in your hair. There have been doves fluttering in your stomach the entire afternoon; you don't know if you tied this correctly or if your hair is braided right, and you can't ask any of your nearby neighbours for fear of discovery that your plans are different than theirs tonight. Mother would know exactly what to do. What to say to make you feel at ease. But what you want most is for her to see you all grown up like this. Finally able to properly wear the outfit you coveted for so long, and hold your head high in it too. You think she'd be proud.
You manage a smile as you run your fingertips along the edge of the ornament, a gift from mother on your twelfth birthday. It's almost been a year since her passing, and you still miss her more than anything. But you also know now that the best way to honor her is to be happy, and to carry on her work, her legacy. So far, you've begrudgingly won a few scraps of respect from the male physicians, and it's a start.
"I hope you're doing well up there," you say, letting your gaze drift out the window to the beaming Chuseok moon, hoping the wind might take your words and your love all the way to her.
"Hey. Are you ready?"
You are grateful that the door is closed because the way you snap to attention is frankly embarrassing.
"Yes, just a moment, seja-jeonha!" you say in a nervous half-whisper, half-exclamation as you allow yourself one last glimpse at the mirror. This is going to be fine. You're going to be relaxed and have a good time, even if you are sneaking out of the palace with arguably the second most important person in the country.
Putting on a smile that hopefully looks effortless, you pull open the door and practically gasp out loud at the sight of him.
It's perhaps the first time you've seen the prince out of the traditional royal robes. It's an excellent disguise -- the clothes of a young yangban lord, done in a deep-dyed scarlet that contrasts his usual navy. A cinched belt fastens the coat deftly, juxtaposed against the dragging, silky sleeves beside it, making him seem somehow more elegant in the way he holds himself. Completing the look is the gat that sits atop his head, its wide-brim tilted low so it covers enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized, at least not to anyone who spared him a passing glance (not that they would know his face to begin with). The gat strap hangs low in front of his chest, the intricate beading betraying just how truly expensive this hat is. He is, in short, unfairly, unfathomably handsome.
You are forever grateful that you chose to dress up; if nothing else, at least you will look suitable standing next to him, at least for a night.
