The winter air bore a chilling bite, seeping through layers of clothing as if to remind them of its presence. Diana's voice carried a whisper of reminiscence amidst the cold, her words tinged with the fading hues of autumn in Seoul.
Lost in thought, Diana watched as a pile of clothes cascaded before her, a mundane interruption to the silence. Chayeon's voice, laced with sarcasm, sliced through the air, demanding attention amidst the mundane task.
"Why, are you so busy that you can't even lend a hand with these trivial matters?" she quipped, her words dripping with disdain.
Soyong's attempt to intervene was met with a dismissive wave from Diana, a silent plea for peace amidst the brewing storm of laughter from Chayeon and her cohorts.
"Diana, aren't you angry?" Soyong's concern hung in the air, heavy with unspoken worry.
"Yes, I am angry," Diana admitted quietly, her resolve barely masking the tumult within. "But... I have something more important than that right now. So I'm okay. I have to be okay," she whispered to herself, steeling her emotions against the tide threatening to overwhelm her, for there were no tears she could afford to shed in that moment.
In the bustling halls of the Royal Tailors, the air hummed with anticipation as the final touches were put in place for the upcoming coronation day.
"Court dresses for the lords are ready!" one voice announced, followed by another declaring the completion of attire for high-ranking nobles. The rhythmic cadence of progress echoed through the workshop, punctuated by the urgency of impending deadlines.
Amidst the flurry of activity, the Chief Tailor's command echoed above the fray, her gaze settling upon Diana, a skilled hand among the artisans.
"Now for the King's ceremonial robe," she declared, her eyes meeting Diana's with a silent query.
Without missing a beat, Diana assured her, "The ceremonial robe will be ready in an hour!"
The Chief Tailor's scrutiny softened, concern etched upon her features. "You don't look so good," she observed, her maternal instinct cutting through Diana's facade.
Suppressing a sigh, Diana masked her weariness with a forced smile. "Me? No, I'm fine...," she insisted, silently pleading for understanding.
"We're ahead of schedule, so take a good rest today. You need to keep in shape," the Chief Tailor admonished gently, her words a balm to Diana's overtaxed spirit.
"Yes, ma'am," Diana acquiesced, her gratitude palpable as the Chief Tailor departed.
Alone with her thoughts, Diana couldn't help but reflect on the sacrifices she had made in pursuit of perfection. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, a testament to the relentless pace she had maintained. Yet, amidst the exhaustion, a sense of pride swelled within her as she beheld the completed King's ceremonial robe.
"Ah, it's done..." she murmured, a weary smile gracing her lips, knowing that this final gift would stand as a testament to her craftsmanship long after she returned to Seoul.
In the quiet confines of the Royal Tailors, amidst the fragrance of freshly crafted garments, a moment of recognition passed between Diana and Young.
"Good job, Diana... Nice work," Young praised, his words a balm to her weary soul.
"Of course, I'm the one who made it- Huh?" Diana's reply faltered as she noticed Young's presence beside Soyong.
"L-Lord Young!" she stammered, surprised by his unexpected appearance.
"Nice work, Lady Diana," Young acknowledged, his tone warm with approval.
Soyong's abrupt departure left a lingering sense of unease in the air, shrouding the workshop in silence.
"...Lady Diana. Did I bother you?" Young's inquiry broke the quietude, drawing Diana's attention back to him.
"Oh, no! Your presence makes me feel better. Would you like to take a look at this while you're here?" Diana offered, her smile masking the sudden unease gripping her.
As she laughed and began to showcase her creations, a sudden interruption shattered the moment.
"Lady Diana...!" Young's urgent voice pierced the air, his gaze fixed on her with concern.
"...Huh?" Diana's confusion was swiftly replaced by alarm as a drop of blood stained the hem of her skirt.
"My nose is bleeding...!" she exclaimed, panic lacing her words.
"Don't tilt your head back," Young instructed calmly, his actions swift as he tore a piece of fabric to staunch the flow.
His gentle touch, coupled with the intensity of his gaze, left Diana's body rigid with a mixture of fear and an inexplicable sense of security.
In the gentle glow of the workshop, Young's concern enveloped Diana like a comforting embrace.
"Lady Diana... You've been overstraining yourself, right? Your body is too stiff," Young observed, his voice laced with genuine worry.
"I-i..." Diana's voice faltered, her defenses crumbling under his scrutiny.
"And your face is pale. Are you taking your meals on time? And are you sleeping well?" Young's questions pierced through the facade Diana had carefully constructed.
It had been too long since someone had shown such genuine care for her well-being. As Young's words washed over her, Diana couldn't help but drop her head in silent admission. Yes, things had been tough—more than she dared to admit. But in that moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to confide in him, to lean on him for support.
"...I am well aware of how much effort you put into this work. That's why I'm proud of you, and I'm happy that I'm able to love such a wonderful person like you," Young's words echoed in the stillness of the room, stirring something deep within Diana's heart.
Yes, this man—Young—was someone she could always rely on, someone she could trust with her deepest secrets.
But amidst the newfound warmth of Young's concern, a shadow loomed in the form of Soyong's suspicious gaze. Since that fateful night, she had watched Diana with unwavering scrutiny, her eyes following her every move.
Unable to bear the weight of Soyong's scrutiny any longer, Diana finally confronted her.
"Hey! Stop looking at me like that! There, say it! What is it?" Diana demanded, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"W-W-What did I do?" Soyong stuttered, her resemblance to Mina momentarily unsettling Diana.
"Okay, just say it," Diana urged, her patience wearing thin.
"Umm... What do you think of His Highness?" Soyong's question hung in the air, catching Diana off guard.
"...Huh?" Diana's confusion mirrored her tumultuous thoughts, her heart suddenly thrown into disarray by Soyong's unexpected inquiry.
Soyong's words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over Diana's thoughts.
"You're a needlework attendant, but I know you can make it to the coveted position in the prince's bed," Soyong's accusation cut through the silence, leaving Diana stunned.
"W-What? M-Make it to his bed?!" Diana's voice wavered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
But Soyong remained undeterred, her gaze piercing as she pressed on. "Hey, be honest. Don't you have any feelings for His Highness? Or do you have a lover?"
Feelings for Sung? Diana's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Yes, she harbored feelings for him—feelings that danced on the edge of her consciousness, waiting to be acknowledged. In her mind's eye, she conjured an image of Sung, his smile radiant and his voice filled with warmth. It was a vision of a confession she longed to hear, a moment she yearned to experience.
But reality crashed down around her as Soyong's voice broke through her reverie.
"Hey, are you listening to me? What do you say?" Soyong's impatience snapped Diana back to the present, her silly daydreams shattered by the weight of reality.
"L-Let's talk again later. I need to check the ceremonial robe again!" Diana's words tumbled out in a rush as she scrambled for an escape.
"Huh? Hey, Diana!!" Soyong's protest faded into the background as Diana fled the scene, her heart heavy with unspoken truths.
That day marked Diana's return to Seoul, her thoughts consumed by the memories of Sung and the unanswered questions that lingered in her wake.
In the quiet streets of Seoul, the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air as Sung and Diana stood in silent contemplation.
"...So this is..." Sung's voice trailed off, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
"...Yes. This is Seoul," Diana confirmed, her voice tinged with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.
Together, they pieced together their theories, their minds ablaze with possibility.
"See, when the door opens, your robe strap shines!" Diana exclaimed, her excitement palpable.
Sung's eyes widened in realization. "I got this strap from my father... I didn't know about this. If you're right, we need this strap to open the gate between Seoul and Hanyang."
Their discovery opened new pathways of understanding, unlocking the secrets of their intertwined destinies.
"First, we need the Bracelet of Life and the Strap to move between the worlds. And I can still go to Seoul even though it's past curfew! The gate wouldn't open after the rooster crows," Diana explained, her words weaving a tapestry of possibility.
Sung nodded in agreement. "So, from now, we don't have to wait until night," he concluded, his determination shining through.
Their revelations sparked a newfound sense of freedom, a realization that with the Bracelet and the Strap, they held the key to traverse between worlds at will.
"That means... I can leave Hanyang anytime," Diana mused, her heart heavy with the unspoken knowledge that their time together was finite.
As the day of the coronation loomed ever closer, Diana's thoughts drifted to the embroidered dragons adorning the King's ceremonial robe before her. Each stitch bore witness to her dedication, a silent testament to her craftsmanship.
With a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, Diana joined the procession towards the East Palace, her steps guided by a sense of duty and a tinge of apprehension.
And as she carried the mourning clothes for Sung, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them both, knowing that their paths were destined to diverge after the coronation.
In the hushed corridors of the East Palace, the weight of solemnity hung heavy as the servants bustled about, their movements swift and purposeful.
"Your Highness, here are the mourning clothes," a servant announced, the somber garments held out with a respectful bow.
The doors slid open, revealing the Chief Tailor and her assistants, their expressions grave as they prepared for the task at hand.
"We don't have much time left, so please hurry," the servant urged, a sense of urgency tinging the air.
"Soyong and Diana will help His Highness get dressed," the Chief Tailor directed, her gaze shifting to the two women standing before her.
"Yes, ma'am," Diana replied, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
As she lifted her head, her eyes met his, a fleeting moment of connection amidst the solemnity of the occasion. It had been a long time since they had shared such proximity, and Diana couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion at the sight of him.
"Would you help His Highness get undressed, or help him put on the mourning clothes?" Soyong's question jolted Diana out of her reverie, presenting her with an unexpected choice.
"Huh? Oh, I... I'll put on his clothes," Diana stammered, her decision made in a split second.
"It'd be better to help him wear the clothes! It'd be weird to undress him...! I'll help him get dressed. ...Why am I nervous?" Diana chided herself, stealing a furtive glance at Sung before turning away to compose herself.
With shaky hands, Diana began the task at hand, her movements careful as she assisted Sung in donning each piece of attire.
"Okay, first, the knee socks..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she worked.
As she progressed through the layers of clothing, her nerves threatened to overwhelm her, but Sung's presence beside her served as a silent reassurance.
"You look nervous," Sung remarked, his voice gentle as he observed her trembling hands.
"Huh...?" Diana's breath caught in her throat at the sound of his voice, her gaze meeting his in a moment of shared understanding.
Lord Sung's sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips, a silent jest between them that danced in the air like a playful breeze. Diana met his gaze head-on, refusing to be outdone, even as her heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
"...Please, your Highness," Diana implored, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
With a regal nod, Sung raised his arms, the gesture inviting her to fasten the sash around his waist. Determined to maintain her composure, Diana stepped forward, her movements measured as she reached for the end of the sash.
"Huh? It's too far..." Diana's voice trailed off as she realized the distance was beyond her reach. With a slight frown of frustration, she took a hesitant step forward, then another, closing the gap between them.
And then, in an unexpected moment of closeness, their proximity became palpable as Sung's warm breath brushed against her forehead. Diana's cheeks flushed with warmth as she fought to regain her composure, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Gosh, I'm helpless," Diana muttered under her breath, her gaze dropping in a feeble attempt to conceal her embarrassment.
As Diana navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, her exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, a tangible burden that threatened to drag her down.
"I don't know how I got that job done. Whoa... I'm so tired," she muttered under her breath, her words a testament to the toll her duties had taken on her.
Lost in thought, Diana's mind wandered back to a moment shared with Sung, a fleeting memory that sparked a smile amidst the weariness.
"...I want to look at your face, Lady Diana," Sung's whispered words echoed in her mind, their intimacy stirring something within her.
"W-Well, he saw much of my face!" Diana retorted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the memory.
In the quiet streets of Bukchon, beneath the canopy of stars that adorned the Chosun sky, Diana found herself walking alongside Sung, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestone pavement. It was a moment steeped in nostalgia, a reminder of the first time they had walked these streets together, when the mere notion of being in Chosun seemed like a dream.
"Lady Diana," Sung's voice broke through the silence, drawing her attention back to the present moment.
"Oh, you're here," Diana replied, her voice tinged with a hint of relief at his familiar presence.
As the early hours of dawn approached, they continued their journey, the weight of their shared secrets hanging heavy in the air.
"Wait, but... Aren't you tired?" Diana couldn't help but express her concern, her eyes searching his face for any sign of weariness.
"Well, will you lend me your shoulder if I say I'm tired?" Sung's response was laced with a bittersweetness that tugged at Diana's heartstrings.
"Well, why not?" Diana replied without hesitation, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Sung's smile, though tinged with sadness, held a warmth that enveloped her like a comforting embrace.
"I want to be with you... and end things together," Sung confessed, his words carrying a weight that settled upon them like a heavy shroud.
"I know you've been through a lot. And you have things you can't tell others... Thank you, Lady Diana," Sung's gratitude washed over her, a gentle reminder of the bond they shared.
As she looked into his eyes, Diana couldn't help but marvel at the complexity of this man before her. His smile, always present, held a multitude of meanings, each one a reflection of the depths of his soul.
"Huh, it's not for your good!" Diana teased, her words a playful retort that belied the depth of her emotions.
As Sung's bodyguard emerged from the shadows, a somber reminder of their impending separation, a sense of urgency gripped Diana's heart.
"...Your Highness," the bodyguard's voice cut through the night air, his words a gentle but firm directive.
"Okay," Sung replied, his tone resigned as he prepared to depart.
Diana's mind raced with unspoken thoughts, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken farewells. With a fleeting glance, Sung turned away, leaving her with a pang of regret.
"So... Can I hug you, just for once?" Diana's voice wavered with emotion as she reached out, her fingers grazing his sleeve.
"Please... hug me once... for a long time... as long as possible... Please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
In that moment, all Diana wanted was to imprint his warmth and scent upon her memory, to carry a piece of him with her long after their paths diverged.
"Of course, my lady," Sung's response was soft, his arms enveloping her in a tender embrace that felt like a fleeting moment of solace amidst the uncertainty of their future.
As she held onto him, Diana silently vowed to cherish this memory, to never forget the feeling of his presence in the moonlit night.
But as the dawn broke and reality set in, Diana couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, her hopes for a smooth coronation overshadowed by a sense of impending doom.