TXT ONESHOTS

Crown of Thorns- Soobin

Title: Crown of Thorns
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The grand ballroom of the palace gleamed under the light of a thousand chandeliers. Noblemen and women twirled gracefully in the middle of the floor, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of the orchestra. The scent of roses filled the air, a reminder of the summer that lingered just beyond the palace walls. Everything was perfect—except for the man standing in front of you.
Soobin, the Crown Prince, regarded you with his usual cold, assessing gaze. His tall figure, draped in royal blue and adorned with the golden crest of his lineage, seemed to dominate the space between you. You couldn't help but bristle at the way his eyes swept over you, as if you were nothing more than a troublesome peasant he was forced to endure.
"My lady," Soobin greeted, his voice laced with the same disdain that always set your teeth on edge.
"Your Highness," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You dropped into a low curtsey, the gesture practiced and perfect, as etiquette demanded.
You had never liked Soobin, not from the first moment you'd met him in the palace gardens all those years ago. He had been distant, arrogant even as a child, with a sharp tongue that had only grown sharper with age.
And as the daughter of a lesser noble family, you had been quick to return his barbs. Your animosity had only grown over the years, a rivalry that everyone in court whispered about but never dared to address directly.
It was no secret that your families were often at odds. Where Soobin's family was traditional and staunchly loyal to the old ways, yours was progressive, pushing for reforms that threatened the very foundation of the kingdom. Perhaps it was inevitable that the two of you would clash, representing two opposing forces in a court where every word and gesture was scrutinized.
"Enjoying the ball, are we?" Soobin asked, his tone mocking as he offered you his arm.
Reluctantly, you placed your hand on his, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. It was expected, after all—the Crown Prince was meant to dance with every eligible lady of noble birth, and you, unfortunately, were no exception.
"I'm sure it's the highlight of my evening," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Soobin chuckled softly, the sound low and irritatingly pleasant. "As delightful as always, my lady."
The two of you glided across the floor, your movements synchronized despite the tension between you. The eyes of the court were on you, no doubt curious to see if the sparks would fly again. They always did, in one form or another.
"Tell me," Soobin said after a few moments of silence, his voice quieter now, more serious. "How do you intend to cause trouble this time?"
You stiffened, his question cutting too close to the truth. The reforms your family supported had been a thorn in the royal family's side for years, and you had been at the forefront of those efforts. But tonight, you were supposed to be playing nice, pretending to enjoy the festivities while your father made his rounds, securing allies.
"I don't know what you mean, Your Highness," you replied evenly, trying to keep your voice neutral.
His grip on your hand tightened just slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"
Your heart skipped a beat, though you'd never admit it. There was something about the way Soobin looked at you in that moment, something that made you feel exposed, as if he could see through all the walls you'd built around yourself.
Before you could respond, the music changed, and you were forced to spin away from him in a whirl of silk and lace. When you came back to face him, he had a different expression on his face, something softer, almost... curious.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Soobin asked suddenly, his voice barely audible over the music.
You faltered, caught off guard by the question. "What?"
"I asked why you hate me," he repeated, his tone more insistent this time. "You've never given me a straight answer."
The question hung between you like a challenge. You had your reasons, of course, but none of them seemed adequate in the face of his sudden vulnerability. Soobin had always been a puzzle to you—infuriatingly composed, untouchable in his royal aloofness. But now, there was something different in his eyes, something that made you hesitate.
"I don't..." you began, searching for the right words. "It's not hate, exactly."
He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Then what is it?"
You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain the complex tangle of emotions that had defined your relationship with him for so long. It wasn't hate, not really. It was more of a deep-seated frustration, a sense that you were both trapped in roles neither of you had chosen, forced to play out a rivalry that was bigger than the two of you.
"It's just..." you started, then sighed. "You're impossible to deal with. You always assume the worst of me, and you never listen."
Soobin looked taken aback by your honesty, but he didn't interrupt. Instead, he seemed to be considering your words, as if weighing them carefully.
"And you?" you pressed, unable to stop yourself. "Why do you hate me?"
He hesitated, his expression clouding over. "Because you make everything complicated," he admitted after a moment. "You challenge everything I've been taught, everything I'm supposed to believe in. It's... unsettling."
His confession surprised you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. It made him seem more human, less of the untouchable prince and more of the boy you had once known in the gardens, trying to understand a world that didn't make sense.
The music slowed, signaling the end of the dance, but neither of you moved to separate. Instead, you stood there, still holding onto each other, your hearts pounding in time with the fading notes.
"Maybe," you said softly, "we don't have to be enemies."
Soobin's eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink, the years of animosity fading into the background. It was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a grand ballroom, surrounded by a world that expected you to hate each other.
"Maybe not," he murmured, his voice tinged with something like hope.
The spell was broken as the music ended, and you both stepped back, suddenly aware of the eyes on you. The court was watching, as always, but this time, something had shifted. You couldn't quite place it, but you knew that whatever happened next, it would be different.
As Soobin led you back to the edge of the ballroom, he paused, his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary.
"Until next time, my lady," he said, his voice soft.
"Until next time, Your Highness," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips.
And as you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance that your story together could be rewritten.