꧁꧂

"Such an incredible lady, isn't she? Mr Kim's mother?" said Mary cheerily, walking up the spiral staircase. "Indeed," Y/n answered, mulling over just about Bathilda. Why the woman she had just met would show so much warmth towards her? Why would an anonymous woman show her so much affection when her mother had never considered doing so? She wanted to understand the pair of mother-son. What sort of trance they were alluring the callous girl?

Taehyung barely had any facial traits from his mother, from what could she see, nonetheless, their manner of speaking, the sincerity they bore roared the strength of their bond. And now she knew...where the hopeless man had inherited such characteristics from. She felt a giddy sort of happiness for no obvious cause.

Is that... the way to be felt when one receives the longed love and affection?

"Are you going to sleep now?" "Not now, after writing to brother Yoongi and aunt Lizzy. Why? Is there something you want to say?" Y/n raised her brows. "No, I am very much fatigued now. I will go and sleep-" She mumbled through her yawns. "See you tomorrow morning. We shall go on an excursion tomorrow if the weather minds to behave a little..." She spoke the last sentence with an irked frown and left for her chamber.

Y/n too entered her chamber and took out two rolls of parchment, ink and her quill. Just when the ink-soaked tip of the quill was on the verge of brushing across the surface of the parchment, she retreated the quill discovering that she was unable of penning any of her emotions. She put back the ink-dipped quill and inhaled the new scent.

"How are you going to welcome me, Antares? Any wonders waiting for me?" A low chuckle escaped her mouth.

༺༻

Having Mary given her words to go on an excursion the next day, Y/n was left with no alternative but to join her. She succeeded in persuading two of the Antares maids to arrange some garments of commoner women and keep their mouths shut regarding the matter with a liberal amount of golds. Golds– did wonders...

Y/n and Mary departed the castle from the maids' residence portal. They both walked past the castle guards who, to their relief, took no interest in taking a glance at them. Perhaps, the shabby garments and furry cloaks fulfilled their purpose at last.

Y/n had sent Bertha with a letter to her mother carrying her signature that said, she and Mary had been feeling unwell and wished the least to be disturbed that day. She could rely upon the letter for reasons.

"Oh! This is going to be such a thrilling experience! Disguised, walking down a foreign path! Feels like the bedtime stories old nurse used to tell me– a courageous nobleman on his way to conquer the impossible..." Mary exclaimed with joy to Y/n's astonishment. She had guessed her to create a ruckus when she had told her about walking in such frigid weather, with no carriage and sentries.

"Are we going towards the locality?" Mary asked seeing Y/n pulling out a fragile piece of parchment. Y/n hummed in response and examined the parchment with a frown.

"The noble locality is towards the south followed by the central market. There is an elite seminary for the noble lads, residence for the commoners, an inn and–" Y/n curtailed, eyes reflecting disgust and disdain but no astonishment. "A brothel..." She scoffed with a whisper, not clear enough for Mary to hear. "Well, it would be astonishing if they did not have one."

"How on earth do you know so much- oh, yes, forgot about it. You have been here before, haven't you?" Mary curiously peered over the parchment and realized that the parchment with visible scribbles and spots was nothing but a poorly explained map of Antares.

"I see! So...where do we begin our journey from? Let's go to the market first, shall we? Even if someone from the castle comes in search of us, they would think the Market to be the most uncertain to have us found in," Mary suggested cheekily.

"Hm, seems like that the Antares wind has succeeded in making you a little wiser," Y/n spoke shrugging her shoulder, after plopping the parchment safely into her pocket. "Hey! Now that was so mean," Mary drawled and followed her with her stumbling feet. The thick pane of snow on the crooked road did not help them much to have a decent walk.

༺༻

"For heaven's sake, don't do anything foolish and draw unnecessary attention on the two of us," Y/n hissed near Mary's ear who was now having a hard time keeping her gasps muffled on seeing the market for the first time. The small stores, commoners in groups or pairs roaming from one shop to another, bargaining for their desired goods fascinated Mary to an extent. Her enthusiastic squeaks had already drawn attention two times. A group of three middle-aged women and a boy in his early 20s had been throwing stares of suspicion at them in front of a craft shop.

The pair of the two royals proceeded forward, where the crowd only kept getting dense. Anxious with the concerns of yesterday's storm, the commoners had not delayed a moment after the surge had come to a halt and had run into the market, huddling all the essentials for the possible forthcoming storms which were not foreseeable.

Y/n and Mary heaved through the crowd with much difficulty causing both of them to part their ways unwillingly. Having Mary lost from her sight, Y/n anxiously pushed ahead. Before she tended to move more recklessly, a sort of numbness rumbled against Y/n's spine, hearing a whispering voice near her ear– 

"Impressive, that was M'lady...I see why you steal so much renown," the voice bore frostiness more than the storm did. It continued, "But the excessive pride you bear might not be favourable for you, Y/n Windsor."

She stood there as if her feet no more took orders from her brain. No, he does not sound like Arthur. She heaved the pristine cold wind and spun around, jaw clenched, fists curled into orbs. There, his black cloak rippling in the cold breeze, doe eyes bearing nothingness, stood a young man of Y/n's age. Her frozen gaze stared right into his, looking for answers to her unraised questions. 

"Who are you?" A whisper came out of her mouth. Her voice shivered. Sure, it was cold but that was not what affected her; she knew. "I remember asking you something," she said once again, though least certain to get the desired answer. She did a quick contemplation of his face, meanwhile. The stranger had an utterly serious face that seemingly had abandoned the once possessed gentleness and naivety. The profound features that had been designed for years rescinding the delicate ones. His slovenly long wavy black hair lacked care and compassion. A soft scar near his cheekbone had begun to fade away; who knew? Possibly it would wither away wholly just as the deceased gullible boy.

"Do not ask me that, Y/n Windsor. You do not want to know the answer... Or perhaps should I say that you don't have the heart to hear it," the stranger sneered. "Welcome to Antares, the ice paradise..." And within a moment he disappeared into the thriving crowd, leaving a flabbergasted Y/n behind dreading the unfeasible. The thought of rescuing her sister who apparently knew nothing about the city seemed to be slipped away from her very mind.

"Fates play cruel jests," Y/n thought. "Who are you, stranger? Or...are you really a stranger?"

༺༻

"Write it, I said!" Bathilda commanded her son who was presently lingering over a parchment with a quill clutched between his thumb and index, hesitating to scribble the words.

"But– but mother, they have just arrived. I do not reckon it to be a decent idea to–" "Oh, hush, Tae. You are going to write whatever I am telling you to," Bathilda lightly glowered at him and his attention quickly averted towards the parchment. "Alright, Ma'am!" He nodded obediently.

"Hmm, now write, dear Y/n– "Erm...mother, isn't it a little bit excessive to address the– the princess in such a way? Should I add something a little more appropriate?" said Taehyung thoughtfully.

"Well, I see no problem with this way. But alright, if you say so..." Bathilda uncertainly replied. She did not find any reason to address the princess in a way an outsider should be addressed. Owning a naive spirit that knew no dirty tactics of deceit and persuasion, she had begun to consider the girl as her daughter, a girl she had met only a week ago.

"Umm...would Francis-daughter be fine?"

"Why would it be? She has an identity of her own, then why should she be determined as Francis-daughter?" Bathilda opposed." "You should–" her words were interrupted by a clamour caused right in front of the entrance.

Taehyung and Bathilda exchanged curious glances and strode towards the main door. "What's all this commotion about?" Bathilda stepped out on the front of the yard and called for the crowd, some were standing and some were crouching observing something with great hesitation.

"Madam Kim, erm–" A younger-looking boy stepped back and let her see the scenario that had gained the pedestrians' attention. Bathilda and Taehyung peered over and an empty sound left his mouth as Bathilda heaved a gasp–

"Mary!"

A fatigued torso laid on the pathway, eyes half-closed due to drowse. Her mouth uttered, "F-Food." Upon hearing her, the concerned crowd could not help but laugh in unison. "Godness! What are you gawking at? C'mon, let's take her inside! Catelyn, Mabel, give me a hand, you two." Bathilda hurried towards Mary. She kneeled on the path and put her palm against Mary's head placing her head on her lap.

"I– will go and ask Aunt Jane to set a warm bed and food," Taehyung spoke and scrambled inside of the house. 

"Look at this girl! She is either incredibly brave or an absolute fool... wandering around in an anonymous place all alone...I wished the girls to visit our home, but not in this state." Bathilda scoffed as she carried a half-conscious Mary inside with the assistance of two young ladies and tucked her inside the warm furs. Despite being upset about finding the princess in such a state, Bathilda chose not to disclose her identity as a princess to the locals for what certainly could have gotten Mary along with Y/n in great peril.

꧁꧂