“You went to So -” there is a cutting edge of an accusation to that statement, spoken in a familiar mild voice. Shifting between sleep and wakefulness, Soo tries to remember the owner of that voice. But all she could think of is the bitter aftertaste it leaves - disappointment - jealousy - malice.
The darkness thins to a blinding light. It is the white sun in a pale azure sky. The clink of blades colliding jolts her gaze down. She watches the two men as they engage in a deadly duel, her view partially blocked by the army that awaits orders. The voice she heard is overlaid with the images that - even with the words blurring the sounds of the duel - still manage to maker her flinch.
He means to kill - she realizes as she watches the unrelenting stance of one swordsman. His offense is powered with malice - his blade thirsty for blood.
“Did you want to kill the fourth prince?” Her own voice is laced with hesitance, she knows the answer but prays not to hear it, not to have that final shattering confirmation of her fears.
And I am holding him back - her eyes shifts to the other man and her heart sinks at the realization. His skill is superior, his movements are lethal, yet there is a weight on his shoulders, tension at his jaw. He means to thwart - not attack. New voices resound in her head a fragment of a different conversation.
“Aren’t you worried about me?”
You won’t die tomorrow - your highness…”
“Your confidence is - comforting.”
“I wish to be king. Nothing bad will come from removing obstacles in my path when the opportunity presents itself.” The cold voice continues its mild revelation.
He is long gone. Her heart thuds painfully at the realization. Still she reaches out, still hoping, still naive.
“We can leave the palace - the king will allow it.”
“Then a new problem will arise.”
“You said you are doing this for me - you are deceiving yourself.” Finally she lets the disappointment colour her tone, finally she lets the tears fall.
The dust rise and the unforgiving sun is reflected in their locked blades. She moves from the pillar that shields her wanting - needing to warn him. I made a mistake. I trusted a wrong man. No - you don’t have to hold back. Fight for your life.
The old conversation continues.
“Is it because of the fourth prince?”
He whirls away too late and the strike draws blood. There is a silent scream in her throat.
“I will make you come back to me.”
And the veil of oblivion is lifted. She sees him as he spins around, the sunlight reflected from the wicked edge of his blade cutting across his face in a silvery beam. She sees him then, sees him when he utters those words, sees the cold calculation, the mask of forced compose that had hidden his previous warmth, sees him raw - stripped of the sheep skin - the man she had once thought was kind hearted and gentle - the man she had almost married - Wook.
There is no glint of amusement in his eyes, there is no tilt of humour in his mouth - it is but ice and ice cuts. She shivers as she watches his blade’s descend, the swirl through air it cannot cut and plunge into the weakest spot of the armor of his opponent.
She imagines the plunge - imagines the pain as if the cold blade sank into her own heart and as he moves over his shoulder she watches the same pain etching across a face so familiar. The half moon eyes - the fringe that touches them, the scar concealed yet that she knows is carved into his very being.
YOU ARE READING
FALLING SLOWLY ||Complete||
Romance|| A moon lovers fanfiction || A swimmer who is tormented in the land. In the legacy of his brother So climbs to the top, hoping to find affection and finding anything but. Other than her name, Go Ha Jin is not sure what else she had lost of her pre...
