When Peony Blooms #AMBW

Chapter 19: "Beneath the Cherry Blossoms' Veil"

While they were walking, a calculated nudge from Seo-Jin redirected Ayodele's attention. He gestured towards a group of performers setting up nearby, his words laced with enthusiasm, "Have you ever seen a traditional fan dance? You'll be mesmerized."

Ayodele, entranced by the novelty of the festival, followed him towards the performers, as Seo-jin nodded at So-ra, leaving the Crown Prince with her.

So-ra, once they were at a safe distance, turned to the crown prince, the crown prince still looking in the direction of Ayodele and Seo-jin.

Breaking the silence that had settled between them, So-ra ventured an inquiry, "How have you been?" Her voice was gentle, probing, "We haven't had a proper conversation since your injury."

His response was immediate, almost reflexive. "I'm fine." The tone of his voice teetered on the edge of indifference. He absently flicked a pebble, watching it skip across the calm surface of the pond, each ripple a testament to his underlying restlessness. His answer held no invitation for further discussion, nor was it dismissive.

So-Ra hesitated, her gaze dropping to her fingertips. It was then, under the illumination of the stars, that tears began to glimmer at the corners of her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as she remembered a time that felt like another life.

" You only speak like that when you are uncomfortable," she said watching him. The crown prince didn't respond.

" Remember when we were children," she began, her voice barely audible over the hum of the festival, "Your mother was away... and the king... he had been cruel that day." Her fingers trembled, the memory of the rough touch, and punches of her father against her mother's skin still fresh. "You were hurt... I was crying... We were both stuck inside the palace, while the festival was taking place outside. Your mother promised to be back and take us to one the year after. We were both too embarrassed to show anyone we were hurt."

As she spoke, her words were painted with vivid shades of their shared past. Her voice quivered, "I was cleaning your wounds, trying to comfort you... and I told you that my kindness wasn't free. I made you promise... promise me that you would get me out of that life of being a nobody... that you would save me from becoming my mother."

The weight of her confession saturated the atmosphere, a reminder of a promise made in the innocence of youth yet imbued with the desperation of their reality. Their shared past interweaving their present.

She grappled with her emotions, trying to hold back the flood behind a tight swallow. "I asked you... I asked you to promise that you would marry me," she continued, her voice wavering. "I asked you to make me someone, my mother never could be."

She paused, allowing her words to fill the space between them, her heart pounding in her chest. "We are here now, and it seems... it seems your choices and promises have changed," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her admission was poignant. Her words were spoken softly, almost lost amidst the lively ambiance, but they carried a weight that transcended the jovial atmosphere. It was a raw and heartfelt expression of her long-held dreams and aspirations, a yearning for a future that now seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

As the density of her words filled the atmosphere, the promise made in their youth seemed both distant and painfully present. It was a stark reminder of a shared envisage, a thought that was now marred by the harsh realities of their adult lives. It was once something that had guided them, given them hope, and now, it seemed to be fading into the ether, drifting them apart.

The Crown Prince, upon hearing So-Ra's confession, displayed a look of sympathy. Yet, beneath his understanding gaze, a firm resolve began to take shape. "So-Ra-yah," he began, his voice as calm as the gentle river current, yet undeniable in its gravity, "Do you truly love me? Or, do you love the idea of what I could provide for your goal?"