PREDOTARY MARRIAGE

47

The first rays of sunshine crept in, peeping through the window onto the slumbering princess. The peaceful surrounding was intoxicatingly rich, free of chaos, enticing her to remain forever. Deep into a sweet dream, she was absolutely unfazed by the outside world.

For someone who had been unable to have a proper sleep lately, the tranquility of pure silence that enveloped her, was a ray of salvation.

After a while, she finally roused from sleep.

“….”

A groggy Lisa woke up, disconcerted. She rubbed her eyes, trying to brush away the traces of drowsiness.

Ah!

Bringing her fingers to her eyes, felt like moving mountains. Her limbs cried out in unison, the aching soreness of her muscles was beyond the point of unbearable – it was so painful that as she moved, she thought she could hear the bells of death ringing in her ears.

She struggled for a bit, but resigned to her body’s vehement protests and fell back onto the bed. Her shifting made the beddings that encapsulated her rustle move, giving off a cool feathery sensation that soothed her.

Suddenly, her eyes opened wide as she realized what she was covering herself with. The soft elegant fabric was in fact, silk; dyed in deep navy blue. The silver sheen reflected on the quilt indicated it was made of the highest quality. Additionally, it kept her warm, despite its thinness.

An intricate pattern of dahlia night flowers and wreaths was embroidered with gold and rustic bronze threads. On the hem, two swirls, which appeared to resemble waves, outlined the floral pattern. Flicks of branches and leaves were also dotted in thread between the pattern of the quilt, harmonising with the dahlias.

It was needless to say an exotic pattern that was completely unfamiliar to Leah. It was not a product of Estia.

Lisa’s eyes fluttered open to the sea of indigo and gold around her and slowly, she scanned her surroundings.

Above her, was the elegant canopy of a bed, and a darkly painted ceiling that had shapes of wild horses and dahlias carved into its wood. A gold plated rim surrounded the edges of where the ceiling met the walls, which too had been painted a deep shade of celestial blue.

Looking around, the walls also bore the same pattern of her quilt—delicate swirl designs were found on its surface. To her side, the sculpture of a horse head hung above, hovering a circular table made of redwood.

Not far from it, a huge windokw that spanned the height from the floor to the ceiling could be seen. Large mauve curtains were drawn to obscure the light, though some beams had managed to pass through, illuminating the soft velvet carpet.

After observing the unique color and patterns of the room, she gradually realized that she was in fact, inside the Royal Palace of Estia. Yet, the room she was in was decorated in Kurkan style. Most likely, it was probably how the royal palace, as courtesy, decorated the rooms where the Kurkans stayed.

But why am I here?

Lisa blankly looked at the container placed on top of the table where a refreshing scent came from. Squinting her eyes, she found that its source was none other than a tobacco which Jungkook smoked.

She tried to shuffle closer, but stopped by a radiating pain coming from her feet. When she rolled up the blanket, she saw her feet wrapped in bandages. Fragments of her memory soon started to hit her as she gazed at the meticulously wrapped linens from the soles of her feet up to her thin ankles.

So, I drank the wine that Byun Gyeongbaek handed to me and…

As she recollected the events from yesterday, her parted mouth slowly widened—what had transpired between her and Jungkook dawned on her. Instantly, her cheeks turned red, looking as if they were about to burst. Lisa grabbed the pillowcase and abashedly buried her face.