Chapter Text
On Princess Yona's 14th birthday, she wakes up different.
That night, Hak saw her to sleep with a laugh, teasing her about Lord Soo-Won coming to visit, and just how flustered she was. (He's lucky he gets to see her blush so red, even though he's not the one who has her affections. Lucky he gets to keep her and Soo-Won in his life. Lucky to have a place at their side.)
In the morning, Yona emerges in plainer robes than befits a teenage girl on her birthday planning to see the boy she likes, with her hair in a loose ponytail. It wouldn't be alarming on its own. He's seen her like this before, calling for aid in choosing an outfit or jewelry. No, what makes her different is her eyes.
Hak has failed to keep her safe, somehow, and it must be his own fault. Because in the space of one night those carefree eyes that should only hold joy hold tempered steel instead.
She pauses as she steps out of her room, and it takes her a moment to spot him leaning against a pillar (where he always is, where he always greets her). Her eyes light up, and she smiles at him with such warmth he wonders if his eyes deceive him.
“Hak! Good morning!” she says, brightly, and this would be ordinary, except when he blinks her clothes haven’t changed back to normal.
He inclines his head. She’s never demanded it, but the formality is a comfort, even as he spurns every other aspect demanded by their stations (a comfort, so that he remembers what his role is in this world). “Good morning, Princess. I’m surprised to see you in such plain clothes when he’s going to be here today. It’s not everyday you turn 14.”
And then, as if this could get any weirder, she tilts her head. It takes an entire three seconds for the realization to dawn on her face of who she means. “Ah! I’m sure Soo-Won won’t mind. He’ll be here for a couple weeks, right?”
“Up to a month,” he answers automatically, following as she starts to walk toward the dining halls. “You haven’t been replaced, have you? Just last night you were debating which outfit would be best, and this is neither.”
It catches her off guard. The way her steps pause for just half a second. But he knows her movements by heart, he’s already been doing this job for a year. “Ah, I had trouble sleeping last night. I’m 14 now, I should care about more than just my hair and my clothes. For all that Kouka is my kingdom, I really do know very little about it, don’t I? It’s not befitting of someone who will one day be queen to be so negligent.”
Oh. Oh. There will be hell to pay for someone making his Princess feel this way.
“What, and take all the duties of your future husband and I away from us? Who says it’s your job to worry about all this?”
Something flickers across her face, too quick to be sure, but it reeks of secrets hidden to him. “No one is saying anything. I just… Want to do right by everyone. I should be more responsible.”
He steps forward and bumps his arm against her. A stunning breach of protocol, but when they aren’t bickering it always makes her soften, so he can get away with it sometimes. “Princess, if someone is telling you that you need to change, they’re wrong.”
Yona pauses again, glancing around before tugging, and Hak finds himself in an empty room with her as she takes a seat on the couch and gestures for him to do the same. “Hak, I promise, nobody said anything, it’s just—”
He doesn’t move. “Clearly something happened, for you to be like this so suddenly. You know you can tell me which idiot it was, right?”
Of all things, he doesn’t expect the quiet laugh she gives. “You’re not going to find a target you can beat up searching among the blameless. Please, sit. If we’re going to talk about this, I need a friend at my side far more than a bodyguard ready for a fight.”
No feat of strength can make the Thunder Beast fold, and yet those words from Yona have him crumpling in defeat. The moment he’s sitting by her, she grabs his hand and leans against his shoulder.
Surely this would be a death sentence for any man with less fortitude than him.
With her pressed against him like this, he can feel it as she sighs, raising goosebumps on his arm. “I had a nightmare last night, and you can’t fight off an enemy that’s only a dream, already gone.”
“Hmph, just watch, your nightmares should be scared of me.”
(If he’s cocky, does it hide the truth underneath? Veil the layers of worry?)
The risk of hinting at the truth is worth it to hear her laugh again. “Would it help ease your ego if I told you first, before the rest of it, that you were there in the nightmare? At my side to keep me safe? That you made it just a little less awful?”
It works. He hates that this works on him. Knowing that even in dreams she turns to him for safety, though… He can’t hate knowing that. “And what was so awful that it made you flee to my side, and then want to take a more active role in ruling when you woke up?”
“... I saw someone kill Father in order to take over the country.” Yona takes a long, slow breath, and oh. “You kept me safe as we fled, but… I can’t say I know how to hunt, or fight, or help keep us safe. I can’t say I know how to rule a country, and I refuse to be helplessly dependent on you when there’s more I could do, even if I know you’d let me.”
Where was Soo-Won, he doesn’t ask. “I’ve got you,” he says instead, extracting his hand from her grip so that he can wrap his arm around her. He’s rewarded with her leaning in closer, slight weight supported by him. “I won’t let that happen.”
She rubs at her eyes, bravely not crying despite how scary it must have been. “Even you can’t be everywhere at once, Hak, and I’m selfish. I’d rather have you at my side than my father’s.”
“Always,” he says, “I’ll always be at your side.”
“Then you’ll have to let me be at your side in return.”
“You don’t have to–”
His words die in his throat when she looks up at him. Even wrapped under his arm, Yona’s eyes still cut through any protest he could raise. This is the daughter of the man who would cut his hand to stop a blade without hesitation, without flinching, without mention.
It’s hopeless. (He’s hopeless). There are no words he can say that could make her back down, not with that stubborn look on her face. How much of her own blood would she spill like it’s the same as spending coins to get what she wants?
His duty is to keep her safe in whatever she chooses to do, not to clip her wings and force her to stay in this gilded cage. Much as he wants it, prefers her safe, cared for, could he withstand the pain of seeing her cry at what she has been denied? Could he withstand what she’d choose to do anyway?
No, to keep her safe is to make sure whatever she chooses to do, he can protect her from any consequences that would hurt. It is not to shield her from ever facing adversity, from ever meeting a challenge.
(Hak is selfish too, because as much as he hates seeing her in pain, this new determination sends a thrill down his spine. He wants to see more of who Yona is, when she’s like this. Who is she, when not confined to this life that has been decided for her?)
“I want this, Hak,” Yona says, still meeting his eyes. “I know I don’t need to change because of a nightmare, but it’s… been on my mind, before this. Let me learn. Teach me.”
He breaks eye contact first, unable to handle her unflinching gaze piercing him. “What do you want to learn?”
“I’m certain my father will let me learn more of the political knowledge I lack. Soo-Won and you are both good at tactics, and he will be blunter than my father on the politics.” She finally moves out from under his arm to face him properly. “But I want to learn tracking, moving unseen, how to survive. I want to learn archery. I want to learn how to swordfight. There’s no one I’d rather ask this of than you. It’s against my father’s wishes, but he doesn’t need to know.”
“You don’t need to–”
“Hak.”
He can’t breathe. Her knees bump against his, and her hand rests above his heart.
“I will learn, one way or another. Whether or not you approve. There were people inside the palace, in my dream, helping the coup. At least be there when I try.”
Her hand hasn’t moved.
Raising his own hand, he gently grasps hers and moves it from his chest to his lips, lowering his head to leave a kiss.
“A bow. Archery. I’ll teach you that, Princess.”
It keeps her out of reach of the people she’s so scared of. It keeps her away from the action. He can be her shield, standing in the front lines of battle. She never needs to be within striking distance of an enemy.
Hak respects King Il, but this betrayal of his orders is worth it to see Yona smile.
(It’s worth it, and he knows well by now how to not think about that blush on her cheeks.)
(She said it herself, she needs a friend. She’s already chosen her king.)
Please, this is why I was born! I’ll give my eyes, my arms, anything!
Then give all you have.
Unravel for their happiness.
Everything stretches out before her.
A woven web of futures and the past.
A tapestry of herself.
With threads falling apart.
Fraying at her hands and feet, four dragons watching on.
Falling through the world of strings.
Is this ascension?
She doesn’t want that.
Can’t accept that.
Threads of fingers reach out and grasp.
(In her mind, she calls back to her brothers and whispers, join me, do not live forever apart in this misery.)
(She cannot know their answer.)
Yona bolts upright in bed, hand still outstretched, tears running down her cheeks.
She’s quick to get to her feet, almost rushing to the door until she stumbles.
She should be taller.
Something is wrong. Something has gone wrong. When she turns, the face in the mirror is far too young.
If the world is wrong in all the wrong ways, she needs to be careful.
Clothes, first. Rushing out in her sleep-robes won’t do her any good. She finds the most comfortable clothes, the least she would care about being ruined, in this massive wardrobe of hers.
(How much is missing? She still knows where everything should go, but the gaps are harder to remember. What else is missing? Has she missed anything? Why is she here, and so alone?)
With a quick glance, she confirms that none of her weapons or more recent acquisitions are around. Fine, she can work with this. She throws her hair into a ponytail, and she will have something to protect herself with by the end of the day.
Except when she steps out of her room, Hak is there.
The relief is so strong she nearly collapses.
It’s not everyday you turn 14.
Three seconds to think, before she needs to react.
It’s her birthday. It’s her 14th birthday. Her father will not be dead when she next sees him, because it’s two years before his death. Soo-Won has not killed her father. Soo-Won will not kill her father.
She is in the past. Over three years lost. Three years, and Hak doesn’t remember. Doesn’t remember their first kiss, or the love she holds for him. He is in love with her, and does not know she would set the world ablaze to be by his side.
Yona is 14, and at 14 she was a very different person. She needs to be that person. Except she can’t. If she is who she was before, Soo-Won will kill her father, and her dragons (brothers, friends, family, whatever they are they beat in her chest) will continue to be alone. Kouka will continue to suffer, and she cannot abide that. She will not be held apart from the ones she loves. Whether or not she is here to stay, whether that future she is from still exists, she needs to move.
Three seconds are up, he expects you to speak.
Soo-Won surely won’t mind. (Soo-Won needs to see that she can bear the weight of a royal crown. She cannot let him strike her father down. She can convince King Il to step aside when it is time, she has to, or he will surely die.)
But of course Hak doesn’t buy her excuses. He knows her too well, pays her far too much attention for that.
It’s cute, honestly, watching him bristle at the idea that someone was mean to her for not taking her role seriously. She knows better now, and he really doesn’t hide it very well. She weaves a tale, as light on the lies as she can be, of the nightmares she’s seen. Her father dying before her eyes, being on the run, needing to do something.
(He really does love her, even here and now. He’s so quick to bend when she pleads her case to hold a bow in her hands, even with the weight of her father’s decree enforceable.)
Breakfast, at least, is a quiet affair. Perhaps out of respect for her nightmare, Hak and her seem to end up eating in a room utterly abandoned.
The food is good, as palace food has always been (except it aches, because it isn’t Yoon’s. A good dish by all technical quality, but she won’t even remember what it was in two hours). It gives her time to think.
If Hak remembered anything, he would have said something about her nightmare, if not earlier. Of this she is sure.
If Zeno remembered, would he make her aware? She has certainly signaled outwardly that she has changed.
(And thinking of Zeno at all is a still-bleeding wound. All that agony he has endured, because of her. She is selfish, and would not wish to lose him forever, but two thousand years is a scale she cannot comprehend. His desire to end it all, himself and the pains of his brothers, there must be a solution that doesn’t involve losing them all.)
(More than anything, Yona regrets that he disappeared in those last moments. Regrets that she could not hold onto him or Ouryuu any longer.)
If Zeno doesn’t remember, it is probably safe to assume the others won’t. She’ll wait and see.
(Is it all unraveled? That future, where has it gone? Does she need to race to return, are they facing it without her? Something within her says that she’s wrong, that this is a second chance, but is it hope, or grief, or something else?)
What is she going to do about Soo-Won?
“Princess Yona,” the riddle says himself as he enters the room, her father close behind. “I heard you were awake! Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, Soo-Won! Good morning, father!” she calls to them both, the smile on her face will stay. There will be no tears, no grief. No fear at seeing Soo-Won stand so close to her father. She refuses to allow any of it to have a space in her chest. Not here, not now.
(She understands, for a second, what Soo-Won meant when he told his mother about boxes.)
(She does not think she could hold anything so far apart to allow her to do what he did.)
They’ve both noticed her outfit, but before any comment is made, her father closes the distance and ruffles her hair. “Good morning my girl, and happy birthday! Look at how you’ve grown!”
“Father, please!” She swats his hand away half-heartedly. (Even if this is some cruel trick played by fate, she will treasure one last touch.)
“I can’t help it! You were so little, you know? And now look at you!” He really does grin so brightly, her memories didn’t lie. “Though this is a bit dressed down for the party later today!”
And there’s the comment.
Well, thinking of her 16th gives her an easy idea to start early. “When I woke up, I realized I didn’t know how to ride a horse! I want Hak and Soo-Won to teach me today, if they have time?” She looks at Soo-Won, leaning so into those bright eyes she’s used to giving him.
There’s surprise in his widened eyes. Because she’s never made a request like this before, she’s sure. He relaxes swiftly, though, and looks to her father. “I’d be happy to spend time with the Princess, with your permission, your majesty?”
“We’ll both be there to make sure nothing happens to her, of course,” Hak adds, and if it wouldn’t scare him she’d kiss him for his help.
He hesitates, but after a few seconds her father nods. “Alright, alright! But please, stay safe. I couldn’t bear it if something happened.”
From there, it’s as easy as quietly accepting gifts. A lovely new robe from her father (the embroidery on this had to be months of work). A bracelet from Soo-Won (a single stone from it could buy a bag of iza seeds for the north). A brooch from Hak (she’d forgotten about it until now, the one she’d worn the day they fled was different, but this was a golden dragon with ruby-red eyes. She won’t lose it this time).
Yona used to tune out the boys when they went places together, and it benefits her now, because now, she can listen. Listen, as they discuss events that have happened recently, without fear that they will censor too much for her sake.
(It helps orient her, now. It helps her remember what was happening recently, what will happen soon. She needs to remember everything she can, and this is a secret that cannot risk being put to paper.)
(She notices Hak grab a bow and a quiver while they start to grab the horses and saddles, and she smiles.)
And oh, seeing both of them on horses, she wishes she could hop up and share Hak’s, but that’s not today’s goal.
(Today’s goal is primarily: make it to night, where you can be alone and think, but she can multitask.)
Instead, she turns to Soo-Won, and gives him a smile. “Help me up?”
“Of course,” he says, offering a hand. “Careful now, put your foot there, and–”
Oh, she can still move like she’s done this before.
Yona doesn’t know this body anymore, but this body knows her.
She lets out a laugh. “That wasn’t too hard! Thank you, Soo-Won!”
“A–ah, of course, you seem to be a natural at this!”
“I’ve watched others enough, it wasn’t hard to mimic.” She grins, running her fingers through the mane of the horse she’s on. Lovely, soft and groomed with care like the rest of the herd. Yona had missed being able to visit the stables, seeing these beauties. Eun wasn’t at the palace often, being Soo-Won’s, but he was always an elegant and sturdy Andalusian stallion, with a grey coat and light hair.
To their right was Hak on his Asmo, a cross between some unknown breed and a Sable stallion, but one she loved–loves–dearly. Black and white, and always bringing a grin to her face. She knows Hak had found and raised him from a foal, had taken him from the Wind Tribe when he started spending most of his time here as her guard. It had been heartbreaking to leave him behind.
Soo-Won runs her through how to control a horse, and Yona makes sure to diligently listen. It wouldn’t do, to seem airheaded here.
She spares a glance for Hak, and he has time to say, “Princess?” before she grins and calls out:
“Race ya!”
And they’re off. Wind in her hair, laughing at the boys’ shouts of alarm, feeling Soo-Won grip her tight as she takes control far easier than he expected.
It’s not a race, really, with no destination named, but it feels good to be so free and in control, choosing where she wants to lead. The rhythmic hoofbeats against the ground soothe, the jostling is a comfort as she keeps herself steady. She knows this. She knows this feeling, and she knows these palace grounds, and she knows where they need to go.
The Kouka palace has a beautiful little forest area far away from the main buildings. There’s a gate in the back, though it’s manned, leading out to the true hunting grounds, but enough of it is within the walls that it makes for a perfect secluded getaway.
As they near the trees she pulls the reins, slowing Eun down to a trot, and then an amble after they pass the first branches.
She still feels breathless, giddy, energy coursing through her. It’s only when Soo-Won recovers his voice that she remembers laying low was meant to be a priority.
Well, they’ll get used to this version of her.
“Yona,” he breathes out, “what was that?”
Hak, catching up just behind them, is also still wide-eyed in shock, and she giggles so sweetly like she used to practice. “It wasn’t that hard! And I wanted some time with the two of you! Without my father around. We hardly ever get to hang out anymore, especially not alone.”
(They started having others keep more of an eye on the three of them ever since her ill-fated breakout-turned-kidnapping.)
Hak lets out a sigh, and dismounts. She waits until he’s at her side before she does the same, taking his hand and stepping down with care. “Thank you, Hak.”
“This excursion wouldn’t have anything to do with what you talked about earlier, would it?” Hak asks, simply raising an eyebrow at her.
Looking at the two of them, she can see how that catches Soo-Won’s attention, and she nods. “You’re the one that grabbed the bow, don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
The indulgent roll of his eyes about her antics is cute, given that he’s already so ready to break her father’s rules.
“Are we to show off our skills for you, Yona?” Soo-Won asks, once his feet are back on the ground, and as he tethers Eun to a tree.
It wouldn’t do to scoff. It’s a perfectly reasonable assumption. (It only stings a little).
“No,” she replies, putting all her confidence in her tone to keep it as steady as Eun’s gait. “Hak is going to teach me to shoot. You can assist him if you want, but I have other ideas for what you can teach me, Soo-Won.”
It’s Hak who laughs at the surprise on his face. “Our Princess has some surprises up her sleeves for us, today.”
It takes multiple seconds for her usually calm, composed crush to find the words he wants to speak. (Tragically, she still finds this cute.) “You want to learn archery? What about your father’s rules? And what do you want to learn from me?”
In his amusement, Hak hasn’t tied Asmo down, so Yona strides over and takes the tether to do just that before choosing to answer. He can wait. This lets her grab the bow and quiver anyway.
This is the first time these hands have touched a weapon, but the familiarity settles against her like a second skin.
When she turns back to him, she meets his eyes. “I love my father dearly, but he shelters me without regard for the fact that I will be Kouka’s next queen. I am not going to sit here idling my days away while my chosen spouse works for this country of mine.”
Yona takes a step forward as he stares, speechless. “I will need to know how to fight, and Hak will teach me the bow. I need to know tactics, and both of you are good at those. I need to know politics, and you, Soo-Won, certainly know those best. What plagues our people? What threats exist both within and outside of Kouka? Who can we trust, and who will stab us in the back? I will not play house and pretend that the world outside this palace doesn’t exist, not when that is where the country truly lives.”
Soo-Won stares.
Those boxes must be hard to keep orderly on that mental shelf, she thinks, watching as he watches her.
But this isn’t a lesson in his domain, not right now, so when he doesn’t speak, Yona turns back to Hak. “Teach me to use the bow.”
He nods, and takes out a smaller dagger to cut a target into the bark of one of the trees. She waits, and intentionally slings the quiver over her shoulder at an awkward angle, gripping the bow too high as she waits.
Hak’s hands are gentle as he ghosts over her, correcting posture and placement, adjusting her hands with as light a touch he can manage, explaining as he goes. Far nicer than he was when on the run. Maybe her Hak could take lessons from him.
It’s that thought that makes her arm tremble and release too soon, arrow flying far short of the target.
Hak chuckles at the miss, and bumps against her side. (He does that when he thinks she needs comforting, reassurance, but doesn’t think anything else would be welcome. She knows so much about him, now). “Princess, you’re not going to be much of a queen with an arm like that. Should we start with your strength, instead?”
“No. I’ll fire two hundred arrows a day if need be. I’ll get this right.” And then, because she can, she glances his way and says, “And you have no idea just how strong I am. If nobody is there to help me sleep, exercising helps me wear myself out until I can rest.”
It’s a bold lie, but as she nocks another arrow and fires (lower, aiming lower and to the left, let the arm shake still, but hit the tree) she knows neither will be able to refute as she skims the outer ring of the target.
It’s after the third arrow makes it within the outer circle that Soo-Won wrangles his long-lost voice into staying put instead of fleeing whenever he moves to open his mouth. “What of his majesty’s rules?”
“What father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Inner ring, but not a bullseye. Not yet. That would be far too soon.
“And you expect us to keep your secret?” Soo-Won asks. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the slight upturn of his lips.
She fires again, goes low. “Tell me what you think of my father’s policies on weapons, Soo-Won. You’re trained in combat, in fighting. Advise me. Your stance on this will tell me if I am right to trust you to keep this from my father.”
“I disagree with the policy.” The words are out of his mouth before she can let another arrow fly. Good. He isn’t going to hide from her.
She nods, and pulls the string back once more, taking aim for the inner circle again. “Explain why.”
“It does not make Kouka stronger to avoid even the hint of conflict, and his policies reflect that.” Thunk, her arrow hits the tree, and he continues to speak. “It makes us appear weaker, it makes us weaker, to not train more people to properly fight. As it stands now, the Sky tribe would not be able to withstand it if we were invaded, and the other tribes do not hold enough loyalty to be sure they will come to our defense.”
“And why must we be strong? What purpose does strength serve, when peace is an option?” Another arrow. Closer, now.
“Because a peace we cannot defend makes others bolder, and we will pay for it later. Kai already makes raids on our northern lands, and due to His Majesty's policies the Fire tribe cannot properly retaliate. We need a show of force to protect our lands and resources. Otherwise we will be bled dry.”
“Hm. Close.”
Yona takes aim and fires, hitting the bullseye, before she lowers her arm and turns to face Soo-Won. “My father is right that we should seek peace where we can, but you are right that we must be able to defend ourselves. He fears fighting will cause only death, but our people’s lives are not resources to be bartered away to appease other kingdoms, whether through gifts of land or inaction. That is why we should fight, because we will not let them suffer worse outside our safety and control.
“We must be strong, because if we aren’t, we will lose the ones we love. That is why people will seek strength, and why I refuse to continue as I have. I love my father dearly, just as I love you both, and that is from where I draw this strength.”
They’re both only 16, so unused to hearing her speak with such confidence in her voice, so she lets them stand in silence while she pulls arrows from the tree.
When she turns back to them, quiver full, she smiles. “I need to go get changed for the party this evening, and I cannot be seen with weapons anyway. You two have fun!”
She hands the quiver to Soo-Won, and the bow to Hak, and gives a wave as she heads back to her rooms.
Soo-Won stares at the tree. At the target Hak had hastily carved in the tree. At the target Yona—sweet little Yona, a girl to be shielded from the world and all its troubles—had shot a bullseye on in 10 tries. 10 arrows, and her arm hadn’t wavered once with the last.
She hadn’t wavered once as she declared his reasoning close, but wrong.
It’s a foolish declaration. Love can make someone stronger? It’s just an emotion. It blinds people to reason, to logic.
“You just saw that, right?” Hak asks, still at his side. “I’m not making it up, she just hit a bullseye on her tenth try, right? I’m not hallucinating?”
“You… Did just see that, yes,” he confirms, nodding. This is… New information he will need to consider. Carefully. “What happened to inspire this since the last time I visited?”
“This only started today. She told me she had a nightmare last night, of His Majesty being killed in front of her, and us on the run.”
Maybe it’s the way Yona looked at him with such piercing eyes, but when Hak says us, Soo-Won gets the feeling it does not include him.
(That isn’t fair to either of them, that’s emotional. Neither of them has any way to know. A dream is just a dream, and Yona certainly has reason to fear it, when she lost her mother so young.)
“It seems a bit extreme to be motivated by a dream,” he murmurs. “I wonder how long it’s been weighing on her mind.”
“Dunno. She hasn’t mentioned it to me before, but it’s clear she’s thought about it.” Hak takes the quiver from him and stashes both that and the bow with Asmo. They could go down to the ranges, but after that, what could compare?
A nightmare about a coup…
It’s ridiculous to speculate, and no one was named. A dream is a dream, not a prophetic vision of his future deeds. There is simply no force that could show her the future he plans.
When all is said and done, after the party, Yona stares at the ceiling of her bedroom.
It had been the same, with Hak by her side through most of the night. Kan Tae-Jun was back to his obnoxious self, and she needed to ward him away. She needed to establish her shift slower for the public.
Soo-Won’s glances through the night before would have made her feel flustered, but now she wonders what he must think of her. Is she still that little girl in his mind, making proclamations about love and duty that sound childish to his ears? Or will he listen? Will he change?
It had felt too late, all those days ago, watching him realize that he couldn’t always make decisions without regard for emotions. She could care for him, but she could not forgive. But tonight she had seen her father drink and laugh, had listened to him tell stories and talk, had let him dote on his precious little girl.
She thought she’d never get to hear his voice again, nor give him a hug. Her last acts had been so ungrateful.
Yona won’t let him die like that again. Not this time.
And if Soo-Won is swayed, if he can choose not to kill her father?
There would be nothing he would need her forgiveness for.
He is still someone she has always loved so dearly. Her stubborn heart cannot seem to let go of anyone it chooses to house. She will deal with that as it comes.
Yona sighs, stretching her hand out toward the empty air. Nobody is there to grab for her, to pull her forward toward all she’d lost and all she’d gained. She knows, somewhere deep in her soul, that she cannot return to the future she’d left (she does not know what has become of it, or if it still exists).
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on tight enough.”
She closes her fist, grasping at the strands that aren’t there—the void where her future should be—and holds it over her heart. “I’ll bring you all the happiness you deserve. I’ll see you all again, even if I have to take the long road forward.”