POV: Hae Na Ri
"Prime Minister Shin isn't here?" He asks. The playboy in him seems immune to the confident beauty in front of him.
"Something came up. Father sends his apologies." She is speaking to him but her eyes keep flicking to me and the notebook in my hands. I can see the curiosity–no, it's something else.
Something curious. And hostile.
Not good to have the Prime Minister's daughter glower at me that way.
"Then I will take my leave, Your Majesty." I do my best to be as formal as possible while bowing. No one says anything as I glide out of there, briefly glancing at the Prime Minister's daughter and her smooth skin and lovely smoky eyes.
I breathe out in relief once I close the door behind me but run into Sunwoo in the hallway. She is in a buttoned grey coat.
She stops, startled. "Why are you coming from there?"
I quietly explain everything to her, leaving out some specific parts. She slaps her forehead.
Obviously, that lady was not supposed to see me.
"Just stay in your room today, or go out," she says.
I don't need to be told.
I take my things, get out and go to the makeup store near Hanul Cafe with Steven and send him home from there.
If there is something that can improve the quality of your life, it's lip balm or lipstick. Even better if you have both.
And they also help cover the red blotches I create while biting my lips in nervousness.
I can only get myself a cheap pink tinted lip balm with the amount of money I had earned from Miyoung's cafe.
Then I go to Starfield Library with Steven to study a little.
Starfield library is one of the few places here that exists with the same name and almost the same appearance as it did in my world. The floor to ceiling bookshelves welcome me and being in a quiet place with other people makes me feel cozy. It's like wrapping yourself in your mother's shawl with her scent in it.
Perhaps I shouldn't have thought that. Now I am thinking about all those things left behind in my world.
★☆★☆★☆★
POV: Hae Na Ri
Two days later, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. It's around the same time of night I got here.
And the thought prompts me to leave the warmth of my bed, put on a black coat and get out of my room.
The palace is eerily quiet. Maids have gone to bed, probably, but the creepy masked guards are still awake and alert as I enter the garden. The guards don't directly turn in my direction, but I see their sharp gaze hone in on me. I tighten my coat around me as a shiver goes through me. My hair are slightly damp from the shower in the evening because I didn't blowdry them.
Just at the start of the garden, there is a pavilion. Under its roof, a tall man with broad shoulders is standing with his back to me and hands clasped at the back.
Hajoon turns, as if sensing my presence.
With those slight shadows under the eyes and a dullness to his usually glowing skin, he looks like some ghost has chased him into the garden.
"You are awake?" he murmurs. A blue coat is draped over his tense shoulders and he is also in his maroon night suit. Isn't he cold?
I glance at the door that brought me here. "Just trying to see if my UFO has returned to pick me."
"You should give up on that," he says as though finally done with this, but then falters as if he hadn't meant to say it. He must be tired.
I graciously ignore his remark. "Why are you awake?"
"I couldn't sleep." His eyelids droop and it will probably take 40 seconds for him to fall asleep if he laid down now.
But being tired doesn't always mean sleep comes easy. Something must be keeping him awake.
I sigh and change the topic. "Your Majesty, no offense but your palace is very boring." My eyes roam the garden, the bushes with flowers. Crickets are murmuring. "There is nothing interesting to do in here."
"What?" His energy changes slightly. He looks as if I have accused him of being Hwanje under Sunja's mask. "People are willing to pay millions to spend a day here, but I refuse to open my home to the public."
"What would they do around here? Don't you get bored too?" I say. I get that he is a king but he is working all the time. "You are working all the time too."
"Ah, so you are saying that I am a boring person."
"Would I get beheaded if I agree with that?"
"You…" He comes closer, leans over me. "You are becoming too comfortable. I should punish a few people in front of you." His voice is a low murmur, not sounding like a threat at all.
But a shiver of some other sort slides down my spine.
He leans back and smugly says, "I do swimming, horseback riding, golf, tennis, shooting. I practice Karate and Taekwondo. I can play the piano, violin, and guitar–what is that look supposed to mean?"
"I am impressed, Your Majesty," I say gently. They all are rich people's hobbies. If anything, it makes him even more boring. At least for me.
He scoffs, his dark eyebrows lowering. Then he pauses. "Oh there's something else too, but it's not serious–and I rarely indulge in it."
Without elaborating he climbs down the stairs of the pavilion, glancing back as though expecting me to follow him.
Intrigued, I quietly go after him, the guards' gazes following my movements like a motion sensor camera. We get in the elevator and arrive at the second floor. Maybe everything interesting is on this floor.
More guards, more creepy gazes following us. I wonder if it bothers Hajoon or is he used to it?
We pass a corridor that I believe leads to the dance room, and end up in front of a pair of metal doors. They are so at odds with the rest of the wooden structure of the palace.
Hajoon presses a grey button on a side and the doors slide open with a low mechanical whir, like the doors of some top-secret lab. The only thing it lacks is mist.