< shrine

@◆ ⁞ ahn youngho ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ A hand twitches at the thought that the familiar stranger has quite in fact read a piece of Yeonah's heart — one that holds a significant part of who she is and what she desires. Her eyes narrow into a glare, but there is a rather vulnerable glint to her gaze, one that may be evident under the moon light and the warm ambience of the lanterns that lit up the shrines. The question, however, makes her think. "How might freedom bring you happiness?" so the stranger asks, and she wonders if he will ever understand even if she does attempt to speak her side, her thoughts, for when she starts talking, she will no doubt lay down the foundations of her wish — its beginnings, its growth over the years, and the end that she cannot seem to see even in the near future.

But a stranger is not worthy of such vulnerability. A stranger is not worthy of her complete honesty, most certainly not one of noble blood. It is evident in the way he is dressed, in his literacy. While men may tend to be more literate than women, it is also evident in the way he speaks. It is unlike the commoners she has had the pleasure of meeting in the past decade of her life, and that alone triggers her into an alerted stance. He does not seem to recognize her, which she finds better than being recognized, truthfully. The word 'exile' follows after her name wherever she looks, whoever she talks to, and what follows that word is a memory that she would not like to go back to.

"And, pray tell, how is that any of your business?" Yeonah cannot help but snap back, and she approaches the lad. She forgets what the others have told her ("Please be on your best manners," one of the naeshi tells her upon her arrival on the island, "most people will not take... lightly to a woman such as yourself." It is blatant disrespect — this much she knows, but her exile seems to have stripped her of anything related to her bloodline, leaving only a useless title to her name). They become a distant whisper in her mind as she reaches out to try and take back the piece of her heart that she has so carelessly let fly over to a man who does not seem to care. "You are of noble blood, are you not? I doubt you will understand even if I elaborate — especially since this seems to bring you more amusement than anything else," she says pointedl. "Now if you would /kindly/ hand me the parchment back, I will forget this ever happened and that we ever met."

@◆ ⁞ seo yeonah ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ It doesn't take a week of settling in for Youngho to realize that as long as he will never be able to escape the queen's shadow as long as he still carries the title of her consort (and sometimes he wonders if that is all he will ever amount to in his life). The people are quick to notice his presence even outside the palace gates, clearing an excessively large path for him as they lower their heads into a deep bow. He doesn't conceal the soft sigh leaving his mouth and acknowledges them with a curt nod. It could be worse, he tries to convince himself. At least he has the freedom to step out of the confines of the palace as he wishes.

He arrives at the shrine after a short walk. Oddly enough, the few familiar faces he sees does not bring comfort to him — they only serve as a reminder that the island isn't his chance at restarting his life. Youngho tears his gaze away from them after a long moment and shifts his attention to the small piece of parchment in his hand. The sentence scribbled in it is a wish unimaginable, or perhaps even outrageous for a consort like himself. His mind is quick to gloss over the possibility that anyone could recognize the handwriting as his — none of the palace staffs have seen him write, and he's only demonstrated his literacy once to Queen Seonhye during the selection. Some might assume that a concubine needs not to write, and while Youngho has always detested that particular notion about himself, he figures that it might work in his favour this time.

He inserts a string to the hole pierced through the corner of the parchment. He will be tying his wish on a lantern with the crowd in a moment, but a part of him wonders if it was any use at all. His tutors had told him that the gods are always listening — but are they really? He has partaken in rituals similar to this one as a child, and he would always wish for a better life every time, but all that has ever greeted him is one unfortunate event after another. First it was his dreams, extinguished like a flickering flame on a candle. Next it was his first love, taken away from him and leaving him to wonder if she was even alive at all.

A strong gust of wind blows over him, but it isn't until he notices a stray piece of paper on his toes that his thoughts are interrupted. He picks it up without a second thought and scans the writing on it. It's another wish — a rather tragic one if he may add, yet he somewhat resonated with it. He releases a breath of air and lowers the paper down upon hearing a familiar voice requesting him to return it. He notices how he doesn't find the face that greets him new either. The young woman's pristine beauty is one that he can only encounter once in a lifetime, yet he is unable to pinpoint where he's seen her before. It is at this moment that he curses the military and the consecutive misfortunes that has ever happened to him for making him /forget/.

Youngho would be more than displeased if his own parchment had ended up in someone else's grip, but he refuses to return the paper to its owner just yet. He hides the storm of emotions brewing inside him with a curious gaze and evades her demand with a hum. He isn't the slightest bit interested, no, but perhaps this meeting could provide him with some semblance of amusement on this island. "Tell me," he says. "How might freedom bring you happiness?"

@◈ ⁞ go dongil ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ the young master's worried demeanor is carved into the maid's mind momentarily. she wonders what could possibly be on the mind of the other since he is /very/ obviously worried about something. but surely he wouldn't tell her right? she is just a palace maid after all. despite the thoughts she has to herself, yeonhee would like to consider himself as someone who would always lend an ear to people who need it, no matter the person is a mere maid like herself, or someone who has way more power in their hands than her. after hearing the noble's answer, she nods obediently before pulling her distance away from him, deciding to wait for the male as he does his prayers. however a lady standing beside her suddenly hands her three joss sticks. "young lady, it is okay to have worries. when you can't solve them, tell them to the gods, and let them lead the way for you." her gaze is so gentle, giving her a bit of warmth that reminds her of her parents way back in mainland. tears threaten to roll off and she takes over the joss sticks, carefully igniting it and looking up at the god statues, closing her eyes.

@◇ ⁞ yeonhee ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ the island not being as big as the distance between kingdoms has anxiety filling dongil. he's alighted the vessel with much dread, a part of him knowing that his secret would not be easy to hide especially from his father -- especially when there were people in the same location that he's had feelings for in the past. he swallows the lump in his throat as he makes his way up to the shrine in a daze, thoughts filled with such negativity he could not throw away. what was he to do if someone makes him feel once more? surely he could not easily hide the rising pile of letters he's had with him all this time. the voice of the maid who's been trailing behind him snaps him away from his reverie and he turns in such haste, eyes wide in surprise. "oh, uhm -- i do not need any help for now, thank you."

@◈ ⁞ go dongil ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ there is a gust of wind blowing up the stairs as she makes her way to the shrine, eyes unknowingly drifting to the noble just a few steps ahead of her while she follows carefully, keeping a distance from the male in case she accidentally trips and bumps into him. it doesn't take too long for them to reach their destination, a shrine built on a higher spot in the island, although it still takes the maid by surprise thinking when and how did people build it as if they knew people are going to come to this faraway island anytime. her momentary space out extends the distance between her and the person she is supposed to follow, so when she comes back to realization she quickly makes her way to the noble, watching him as he seems to be preparing for the prayers. "do you need any help, lord dongil?"

[post deleted by owner]

@◆ ⁞ ahn youngho ⁽ˢᵃʳᵒ⁾ [ i am sorry for this . truly . haha . ]

Upon reaching the shrine where many others have gathered prior, Yeonah surprisingly feels claustrophobic, even when there is barely a soul within her line of sight. She stands a distance away from the place — the people who may have most likely visited the shrine a mixture of royals, nobles and commoners alike, the first two groups of people she hasn't had many chances of meeting over the course of the past ten years. There is a memory that threatens to fill her mind as she holds tightly onto the small piece of paper between her forefinger and thumb, a memory that she can say that is akin to that of her nightmares. Ten years ago, these were the very same sort of people that have watched her as she was taken out of the palace. She did not meet the eyes of her watchers, no, but she had felt them so sharply upon her being that it had taken her everything not to let her chin fall.

She takes a soft, shaky sigh, and she moves her gaze from the shrine to the paper she holds. Tying wishes to lanterns truthfully does sound quite silly to her at times — would the deities truly grant their wishes simply because they put it up on lanterns that would soon lose their glow? She can almost laugh, because the wish she holds in her hand is one of the thousands she has spoken to the wind for no one to hear; thousands which she has hidden safely in a locked drawer back at the house.

Over the years, Yeonah has earned what she is certain is a drawer full of unsaid wishes and letters that never reached their intended recipients. She doesn't know why she still continues to do so, wish upon a star (or in this case, a lantern), when she is certain that this one will remain unheard, much like the wishes she has whispered to the deities back before. But there is hope that stubbornly stays alight within her heart, one that refuses to dwindle even if all it has given her so far is more and more disappointment with each day.

And yet she finds herself walking toward the shrine anyway. She has told Gyeoru that she would come here alone instead of letting the man accompany her, specifically stating that she wants to do it alone. But her hands tremble as she carefully ties the message she holds onto one of the lanterns, her mien hardening as she tries not to let the flames of hope within her heart burn so brightly in fear that it may leave nothing but dust once forcibly extinguished. However a rather strong breeze blows, and her shaky hold on the message allows the wind to carry her wish with it.

She blinks, before quickly following after the piece of paper. She holds onto the bottom part of her attire, quietly cursing it in the back of her mind, and she doesn't notice the way the winds seem to lead her to another person — all until the paper lands by the person's feet, and she pauses into a halt a few meters away from the man. Hesitation written in her body, her eyes move from the paper heavenwards. Almost immediately a sense of familiarity washes over her, but the face she sees isn't one that she recognizes instantly. She can only hope that she doesn't unknowingly offend a royal or a noble — but then again, it isn't as if they would be able to do much.

All of them are imprisoned here, in a way.

"That is mine," she says instead, in hopes that it'll stop the familiar stranger from attempting to read it. No matter how small, it is still a piece of her heart. "Will you give it back?"