the chang family were well known in the capital city of guri. a lineage of both artisans and scholars respected for their work, but they were beloved by the people for the kindness they would show to the commoners. yuri could still remember her first memory of her family's annual winter feast where they would open their gates to feed the hungry during the harsh season. 

her grandfather was the royal advisor for the late king of guri before his passing and was the one to teach her to value kindness and compassion. and under her grandfather's gentle but firm watching, she followed her father's foot steps into learning to become a painter. 

but as skilled as she was. yuri was just a woman whose work would never be accepted in society. her family made this clear to her the day she decided to pick up a paint brush, but that didn't swindle her one bit

it was during one of her ventures into town to pick up the newest batches of paint when she crossed paths with a young boy around her age of 14. while she was covered head to toe in only the best material their kingdom knew, he was in tattered fabric that looked as if they hadn't been washed in weeks. yuri didn't even have to ask who they were. just the pungent smell that wafted from them revealed their class status. a butcher: the lowest of the lows. 

she had never paid much attention to these outcasts much less breathe the same air as them. but the look of panic in his eyes along with the several bruises rouged over their body. disregarding the hushed whispers her servants made about the boy, she hid him into her palanquin to hide from what was clearly an abusive situation. taking him home, she was met with stares of disapproval but her grandfather allowed for her to at least give him a clean outfit before sending him on his way. yet, this wouldn't be the last time she would see him. 

storing away food any chance she got, she would then bring them to the boy in the dead of night. it wouldn't be long before she found the poor yet oddly funny and wise butcher's son quite charming. at this time she would be too young to know what love even meant. it wasn't until her 17th birthday when her father had arranged her to get married did she realize that she'd rather spend the rest of her life with a social outcast than a stranger of a noble. 

as devasted as she was, she was compliant and moved into the palace where she would live out the rest of her days as a servant. a life without love was what she would rather have if she couldn't be with the person she wanted.

taken under the wing of the royal palace's head maid, she quickly learned the ways of caring for the royal family. following her mentor, she was part of the group of maids that would annually visit the island to keep the secret palace in maintenance. her history and skills earned her the sudden promotion of becoming the secret garden's head palace maid during this time.

the way a brush feels in her hand — waking up to the sound of birds — plum blossoms — the moonlight — the feeling of getting to rest after a long day — the first snow.

having to sit in front of the hearth to tend the fire — the summer season — faulty paint brushes — horses.

painting — practicing calligraphy — embroidery.

to keep her royals alive.

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