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When Yoo Joonghyuk agreed to find his sister someone to play with, he’d originally thought it would be a good idea to look for a long lost princess to fill in the role.
Why? Good question. Looking back at it now, even Joonghyuk himself doesn’t know what kind of nonsense he was deluding himself with. This was definitely not the easiest way to find his little sister a friend—only, it was far too late to turn back.
Next time, I'll just get her a pet, he thinks resolutely. Another thorned vine narrowly misses his face as it swings low, as if aiming for him, but he dodges out of the way in time. A tiger, or a bear. Something less troublesome than this.
Yoo Joonghyuk sighs, and then attempts to see through the thinning brackets of woody, creeping vines at the castle. It’s closer in view than before, but he still felt as if he had a long way to go. Even after what must be hours of travel, the distant towers seemed to be covered in dust and dark, thick vines. Tales of neglect and abandon leaked from the old brick and—
“What kind of princess lives in a place like this?” he mutters to himself, bored out of his mind.
A sinister aura that radiates from the castle, as if what lies within its barren, ruined walls is not a princess but a witch. Even through the thick of thorns and plants, a foreboding reaches Yoo Joonghyuk as he slowly, slowly, makes his way forward. A warning of sorts rings with every swing of his blade, every muffled footstep that took him further into the ruin.
It is said that the princess that lies within this castle is beautiful, fair, elegant. A nameless face that would stare out of her window in hopes of being rescued from her cushiony prison by a determined suitor. It’s said the princess is kind, smart, and resourceful—yet nobody came for her.
Years passed. People forgot all about this princess, whose name became obscured with other beauties and who was left behind.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword made a harsh noise as it collided with another low hanging branch, and internally he winced as he saw the numerous scratches on it. When he got back home to Mia, he’d have to get Lee Seolhwa to help imbue it with magic to strengthen it, else it could fail him in an actual battle.
Deserving of his title of the ruler in his kingdom, Yoo Joonghyuk utilised a sword of the highest calibre, one with an almost blue-white shine to the blade and a fine handle fitted to his grip. When he swung it, many would say it was both evil and entracing—hence the name, the Dark Heavenly Demon Sword. Yoo Joonghyuk himself didn’t care for things like that, for as long as his weapon could do what he needed it to do the rest was meaningless.
And yet, if something like thorns was enough to make a dent in this revered blade…
“What kind of plant is this?”
With a keener eye, Yoo Joonghyuk looked more closely at some of the nearest vines. He held the closest up to his face with his sword, and peered down at it curiously.
In the light of the noon sun, they seemed ordinary for a second before one of them suddenly glinted with greenish light.
Magic, Yoo Joonghyuk recognised instantly. And then as he backed away from the closest one slightly, wary, This is a curse.
…just what kind of princess was he fighting his way towards, if they had earned the ire of a witch powerful enough to cause something like this?
Yoo Joonghyuk, once again, reconsidered turning on his heels and finding a wild python for his sister to play with. It would definitely be easier, and much safer for her. She shouldn't have been nosing around about old princesses in the first place—what use is the past when the future is yet to come?
Oppa, this princess here is supposed to be really smart! I’d really like to meet her… isn’t she supposed to be ever so pretty too? Oppa, please, please! I really want to meet her, Oraboni!
Right. He didn't have a choice in the matter.
“I’m never listening to that girl again,” Yoo Joonghyuk murmurs to himself as he resumes hacking and cutting. The hardest of the vines required him to actually start sawing away at it with the side of his sword, and for a moment it reminded Yoo Joonghyuk of something he’d seen a commoner do with his trace.
Isn't this too much hassle for something meant to be easy…? How was any suitor meant to get through all this without giving up?
… I really want to meet her, Oraboni!
This better be worth it.
Fifteen hours.
Yoo Joonghyuk has been travelling for—fifteen hours.
He’s been whipped by branches and cut by sharp edges. He’s been caked in mud and blasted with dust as he got close to the castle. His eyes ached from straining to see as the sun slipped into the night, and his sword, his sword , had been dented and scratched like a twig thrown to the mercy of a lion. All that effort, only to climb a dozen flights of stairs and to find a door that wasn’t even locked.
Overall, Yoo Joonghyuk is not doing very well. He is doing very badly, in fact. Terribly. Awfully. Horrendously. Worst-day-ever-ly.
So, as the frustration and annoyance weighs on his face and forces it into a scowl, Yoo Joonghyuk storms inside, raises his sword, his scarred, scratched hands trembling with exhaustion, at the serene figure upon the bed.
“In the morning,” he commands raggedly, leaving no room for question as the figure startles as it notices him, “you’re coming home with me.”
The princess stares.
And then he cries, “How did you even get in here?!”
The princess is… well, he doesn't look exactly like a princess. Instead of the long, blond locks that Yoo Mia told him all about, Yoo Joonghyuk sees short, straight, black hair that curves slightly around the princess’ temples and ears, a loving caress against the shocking white.
The eyes that look at him are dark, and the longer he looks into them, the deeper they seem. Those eyes are terrifyingly intelligent, even when wide with shock. The princess has a very pale face, with sharp cheekbones and a very un-dainty jawline. His nose isn’t delicate like the descriptions, is round and droops a little at the tip. His lips, though thin, are light pink and may be the only colour on his face.
His face. Because the princess is a man. A decent looking man, actually.
The princess’ collarbones are exposed by the cream, silken shirt that hangs from his shoulders and dips down into his chest. It would be a very risque cut for a storybook princess, and still is on a man, dipping down to the middle of his breastbone and exposing slightly toned muscles. The colour is such that even his pale skin seems to be a warmer tone. In his hands, the princess holds a single, crimson rose that matches the one tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt.
Did he mention that the princess is a man? Because he is. A man, that is. Yoo Joonghyuk is going to wring his sister’s neck for this—ground her for two years until she ends up withering away in some tower.
“What the fuck kind of princess are you?” Yoo Joonghyuk mumbles in distaste, before he promptly crumples to the ground in exhaustion.
“What the hell?! Yah, bastard, I just cleaned up!”
Yoo Mia sighs. "Oh, it will do, I guess."
"I am right in front of you," Kim Dokja brings to her attention. "And I am no it."
She sniffs at him. "You're supposed to address me as Your Highness, since I'm the princess!"
Kim Dokja is not very impressed, even if she is so cute when she tries to make herself look regal. "I am also royalty, and I'm older than you. Why don't you lead by example, O' Great, Beautiful, And Wise Princess?"
Despite herself, Yoo Mia smiles begrudgingly at the over dramatic title.
They end up getting along pretty well.
Extra:
“And that’s how I met the king,” Kim Dokja finishes off the narration with a smile.
Absolutely shell shocked (they thought that the couple had a romantic first meeting), the two children in front of him turn to each other to check that the other is just as scandalized by the confession of Stockholm Syndrome they just heard.
The perpetrator of this bafflement takes a sip from the herbal tea blend that had gone cold during his story, sighing once more at how the taste differed so much from the tea he had rationed and scavenged back in the tower. Life in Yoo Joonghyuk’s palace is full of comfort and ease, compared to the draughty, boring tower Kim Dokja had locked himself in.
“...you were kidnapped?” Shin Yoosung asks, eyes wide.
Kim Dokja laughs, “No, nothing like that.”
Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung share a look that makes Kim Dokja feel rather foolish for some reason, even though two servant children being judgmental should have no effect on a grown man.
“You were kidnapped,” Lee Gilyoung decides. “He broke into your house and stole you from your bed!”
“I went willingly…” Kim Dokja can’t refute the first part.
“I thought you asked Sooyoung-noona to put up the ward around the castle so nobody could get in. Why did that jerk go through and ruin it all anyways?”
It’s a bold move to insult the king whilst you live and work in his household, but Lee Gilyoung is a fearless kid.
Shrugging, Kim Dokja says, “It’s not like he knew I had asked a witch to do that to my castle. I just wanted some alone time for a few decades, but fate has a funny way of doing these things, you know?”
Clearly, they don’t know, since they look at each other again with hints of despair in their eyes. If Kim Dokja didn’t care about these two kids, he’d have been extremely offended by the silent conversation they were definitely having about him.
Though, to be fair, they do have a point… that bastard Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted Kim Dokja’s peaceful life of solitude and then had the nerve to faint on the floor, prompting a fit of panic and confusion from him... and then forced him to travel for a week during stormy weather, and only let him bring eleven of his many books along with him! (He did make the king go back and collect the rest of his novels, but that doesn't matter.)
Looking askance, Kim Dokja takes another unpleasant sip of cold tea, and then sighs.
“Okay, I was kidnapped. But only… a little bit.”
“Only a little bit?”