Sacrifice || ENHYPEN FF

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 119

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-Start of Chapter 119-

Jungwon doesn't know how to do this.

Courting.

It's a word he's heard countless times growing up, a duty that's been drilled into him since childhood. He knows how it's supposed to go—grand gestures, perfectly worded letters, elaborate gifts that prove his worth.

But this isn't a diplomatic proposal. This isn't about politics or alliances.

This is Isla.

And suddenly, everything he knows feels... useless.

He sighs, tapping his quill against his desk.

~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Jungwon finds himself walking along the palace gardens, hands clasped behind his back, the soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots the only sound accompanying him.

The late afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting golden hues across the pathways. He isn't sure why he came here. Or rather—he knows, but he refuses to admit it outright.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, his steps slow.

There, just a few feet away, Isla kneels in the grass, carefully tending to a bed of wildflowers. The gentle sway of the blossoms matches the unhurried movements of her hands, and for a moment, Jungwon simply watches.

Then Isla looks up.

The second she notices him, she scrambles to her feet, brushing dirt from her skirts before bowing deeply. "Your Highness."

There is a brief silence.

Jungwon had thought about this moment—what he'd say, how he'd act—but now, standing before her, everything he planned has completely disappeared from his mind.

So he clears his throat. "You... um..." He glances at the flower bed behind her. "You're working."

Isla blinks. "Yes, Your Highness." she replies politely though her voice carries a slight hint of sarcasm. "I am the gardener." 

Right. Stupid question.

Jungwon nods stiffly, shifting his weight. His fingers twitch at his sides. "What kind of flowers are these?" he asks, gesturing vaguely.

Isla glances at the blooms, then back at him. "Chrysanthemum , Your Highness."

"Ah." He nods, as if that means something. He pauses, then tries again. "Do they... grow well here?"

"Yes."

"Do you like Chrysanthemums?"

"Yes. They are my favourite flower."

"Right."

Another silence.

Jungwon exhales slowly through his nose, staring down at the tiny purple flowers. This isn't how it's supposed to go. He should be charming. Smooth. Yet here he is, asking her the dumbest questions about flowers, struggling to keep a conversation alive.

"Your Highness..." Isla's voice is laced with something—amusement? Hesitation?

Jungwon looks up.