Golden Hour | Mark Lee

6

It was only a couple weeks later that you experienced one of the worst visions you'd ever received, and it was all a dream. You woke up screaming, thrashing in your bed, images of pain and suffering flashing across your mind, the caw of a raven, and bloody black feathers littering the cold, unforgiving ground, bodies strewn across the castle floors. You heart thrashed against your chest, your head searing as screams ripped through your throat.

Mark's room was close enough that he must of heard your screams, and light flooded your small chamber as he flung the doors open, shooing away the guards crowding at your door. His eyes flashed around the room before landing on your form, and he hurried to your bedside, crawling onto the thin, hard mattress to hold you in his arms. You felt his arm leave you for a second as he waved the guards away, and soon the room was engulfed in darkness once again.

You felt his thumb brush against your wet cheeks, wiping your tears away as you gasped for air.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, tinged with concern. "What happened?"

You shook your head, willing the tears away, your chest heaving as you fell limp into Mark's hold. "I don't know." you whispered.

That was when it all really began, with the dream and Mark and the birds with feathers as black as night. You were afraid, because a vision had never demanded, never produced such a visceral, stinging reaction, something that clung to your mind with such ferocity. It was frightening because you couldn't figure out what exactly it was trying to tell you, what it was trying to warn you of.

So you did all you really could do, and ignored it. Regardless of how many times you woke up screaming in the following months, it meant as good as nothing if you couldn't understand what the vision was trying to tell you.

And so spring surrendered to summer, and summer fell to autumn, and everything seemed to have gone back to normal. And before you knew it, winter was nearing once again, frost blanketing the hard, damp ground, and coating the castle walls with an icy sheen.

You were walking the grounds with the prince's cousin, Jisung, laughing every time he slipped on an icy patch, flailing for balance.

Every time you laughed, he'd slap you on the arm jokingly, smiling brightly. Jisung was one of Mark's only relatives that knew just how entirely close you were with the prince, and he was perhaps the only one who harbored no ill feelings towards you because of the fact.

"Mark seems to be in a foul mood these days." Jisung mused, kicking up a small patch of snow with the toe of his boot. "Do you have any idea why?"

You chuckled humorlessly. "How the prince feels and what His Highness thinks about is none of my business, Ji."

"His whole life is your business, Y/n. Isn't that why you're here?"

You sighed, your eyes roving the thin layer of snow blanketing the trees on the horizon. "I'm here to keep him alive, according the queen, Jisung. That's it." you answered.

"Are you sure that your visions are about Mark? Is that all they tell you?" he urged.

"They don't tell me anything, Jisung. They show me. And what I can decipher, I tell the queen."

"How much do you tell the queen? Compared to how much you actually see."

You stopped, looking at him. "Not much, Jisung."

Jisung gave you a tired look, and then suddenly his eyes widened, focusing on something just behind you. You turned around, and you felt yourself shrivel up a bit inside when you saw the queen marching towards you.

You opened your mouth to greet her, but her hand connecting harshly across your cheek, stinging where her palm had hit you, quickly shut you up. Jisung made a noise in the back of his throat, and you held your hand tenderly to your flaming cheek, your eyes wide.

"We need to talk. Now." she snarled, and plastered upon her face was an expression so frightful it made your blood chill.