back to me ⤖ han jisung
❖ genre : dynasty au; angst; fluff
❖ word count : 12,6k.
❖ warning : mentions of death & violence
❖ summary : you were supposed to avenge the fallen by taking the crown prince’s life but one wrong tug from fate and all your effort has gone to waste.
❖ a/n : read chan’s spin-off here!
prologue.
Life can’t possibly get any worse for you, not when you meet the right person at the wrong time.
When you’re too busy staring at the ground, this boy - who claims to be the crown prince of Goryeo - keeps asking General Bang if he can come out and play in the rain. As if he’s wondering what it feels like to stop time and walk through every single droplet, to suspend this watery gift from Mother Nature and peek through each one. As if he’s questioning what if he can sit inside of them, taking a gravity propelled ride.
He smiles at you when he catches your intense stare, completely ignoring the fact that you might be judging him for his questionable demeanor for a royalty.
You don’t smile back.
A guard hollers aloud, drawing a line with his sword above the crowd, “Make way for His Majesty!”
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty!” A woman shoves her way through the crowd full of people who are kneeling down on their knees, her eyes frantically peeking over the king’s shoulder. Finally, when she spots your shuddering figure next to the young prince, her eyes soften. “May I have a word with you?”
“Bow down, peasant—“
“Hush,” the king waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s see what she has to say.” And the guard scoffs, stomping away with his hand clutching onto his sword, his jaw clenched.
The woman sighs in relief, getting down on one knee and explains calmly. “Your Majesty, my husband and I can barely make enough to eat but after some time of adapting and working hard, we’re sure that little Y/N can come and live with us instead.”
The king laughs lightheartedly and pats her shoulder, “That’s very kind of you,” and he scans around only to see everyone holding their breath, waiting for his next words. Once he’s determined to do something, it’s either going with the flow or having their head on a chopping block. They can’t even fathom how much courage this woman has mustered to speak up like that. “But I can assure you that—“
“Her father and mother were good people, Your Majesty,” she cuts him off almost coldly, cautious not to appear as discourteous because the last thing she needs is one of the guards running their swords right through her throat. “Do you have what it takes to raise this child? As your own? Will she be able to blend in with your people?”