twenty two

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Days flew by before merging into weeks until he could no longer count how long it had been.

"Hit all the disks!" Teacher Hwang barked.

He threw three clay disks into the air. Half startled by the sudden command, Riki hastily fumbled to nock the arrow. When he slipped it into position, he let it fly, but it was too late. Only two of the disks shattered from the impact. The third fell to the ground, unaffected, with a thud.

The general grunted and picked up the remaining clay disk. "Not bad. I was only expecting you to hit one. But it could be better." He inspected it, holding it up to eye level, before tossing it away. "That's all for today. Class is dismissed."

The prince nodded absentmindedly before turning to face Hyewon.

Already two weeks have flown by since the incident. That night was merely a mistake, nothing else. It remained undiscussed and honestly, Riki didn't know whether to feel anxious or relieved that that tabooed topic wasn't brought up. It was in the past now, and the past should stay in the past.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but feel that a certain distance was between the two of them. Not like they had been extremely close in the first place, he thought to himself ruefully.

"What's after this?" he asked, striding up to Hyewon, who had stood stonily in one place the entire lesson, arms crossed with her signature scowl etched on her face. She raised her eyebrow. "Don't you know your own schedule?"

He rolled his eyes. "I do know it, but I'm asking you for clarification. History, right?"

"No, stupid. It's royal etiquette."

Right. He had forgotten that History had now been swapped out for that class. Now that the masquerade ball was just one month away, he had to start learning how to waltz. History class had never been pleasant, but he'd choose it over hours of having sore feet. He sighed, "Alright. Let's go."

-

Screw it. The atmosphere was getting awkward.

They walked down the corridor in absolute silence. Absolute silence. And Hyewon hated it. And although she'd never admit it to him, she kind of missed their daily bickers and arguments.

Two weeks of awkwardness. She was so tired of it that all she wanted to do was shake Riki vigorously and demand him to start some random debate so everything would be back to normal. But the more rational part of her stayed composed.

The doors of the ballroom were already swung open as they walked in. A gigantic, sparkling chandelier hovered over the room, carved with intricate designs only the most meticulous craftsmen could do. In the far right corner, a small band of musicians tuned their instruments. Paintings of the royal family hung from the walls, their imposing faces staring down at them.

A tall woman wearing a frivolous gown strutted towards them, her heels loudly clacking against the polished wooden floor (so much that, Hyewon thought to herself, her heels would pepper the floor with holes).

"Hello dear!" Madame Byun trilled as she brought Riki into a bear hug, the latter seemingly uncomfortable squished into her embrace. When she let go, she beamed her sickly sweet smile at Hyewon. "Oh, Hyewon, it's nice to see you again."

She internally rolled her eyes. What a ditzy lady. But she didn't say that out loud. Forcing a smile, she bows her head at the elder. "Hello, Madame Byun." she greets politely.

She pats Hyewon on the head dismissively before turning to the prince. "Excited for your ballroom dancing class?" she asks him with great enthusiasm. Without waiting for an answer, she claps her hands. "Dear, you're going to love this class. It's so much more interesting and interactive than your boring History lessons. Let's get started!"

Samurai ↔ Nishimura RikiWhere stories live. Discover now