[ Han Inaya POV ]
My heart pounded as I slowly turned around, dreading what might be waiting for me this time.
A mix of fear, annoyance, and exhaustion flooded over me, making it hard to think straight.
"Please, no more trouble,"
I whispered to myself, feeling like I was about to face yet another unexpected disaster.
I knew barging into someone's home wasn't the smartest idea, but I had acted out of desperation.
When I turned fully, I saw an elderly woman standing there, likely in her sixties.
She stared at me with a curious look, which quickly shifted into a sharp frown. Before I could say anything, she reached over and twisted my ear with surprising strength.
"Ouch! Ouch!"
I yelped, surprised by the sudden pain.
"Where have you been, and what on earth are you wearing?!"
she demanded, her voice sharp with irritation.
Her grip was solid, and she twisted my ear even more, making me wince.
"Let go of me!"
I tried to pull away, but she just grabbed my other ear with her free hand, and I yelped again, wincing at the pain shooting through both ears.
Her voice softened but held a scolding tone as if she knew me well.
"You're getting more stubborn every day,"
she muttered.
She looked me over with a critical eye, her face scrunching up in disapproval.
"Just look at yourself-covered in mud from head to toe! What were you even doing out there?"
Her face was lined with concern as she took in the cuts and bruises scattered across my arms and face.
Her stern look quickly melted into worry as she noticed my injuries.
"Oh my goodness, you're hurt! H-How did you get these cuts, Inaya?"
she asked, her voice trembling slightly. My eyes widened at her words.
Inaya? How did she know my name? I'd never seen her before! Confused and shocked, I just stared as she leaned closer to inspect me.
"Oh no, these bruises... They look serious."
She gently touched my arm where a purple bruise had started to form, her fingers cool but careful.
"Look at all these cuts. Some of them are even bleeding..."
Her tone was full of worry as she examined me.
Not giving me a chance to respond, she took my hand firmly and led me further inside the house, where I noticed shelves filled with jars of herbs, leaves, and unusual tools.
The room smelled earthy and sharp, unlike any medicine cabinet I'd ever seen.
She gestured for me to sit down on a soft cushion laid out on the floor, clearly expecting me to follow her instructions. She then shuffled around the room, gathering items with a practiced hand.
"Take off... that upper thing you're wearing,"
she instructed, eyeing my leather jacket with clear confusion.
I hesitated but quickly removed it, revealing my dust-streaked white top. I didn't want to test her patience after what she did to my ears.
She looked over my exposed arms, gently tracing the bruises with a sad expression.
"You used to be such a gentle child,"
she said quietly, more to herself than to me.
"Never getting into trouble like this."
She lifted the back of my shirt just slightly to inspect the bruises on my lower back, gasping at the sight of the red and purple marks.
Her fingers lightly touched the bruised skin, and I winced, feeling the sting.
"It hurts,"
I whispered, trying not to let the pain show too much.
She moved to sit in front of me, her face full of concern, and I noticed her eyes glistening with tears.
Her sadness took me by surprise.
"W-Why are you crying? I'm the one in pain here, halmoni,"
I said, using the word for grandmother without even thinking.
The whole situation was baffling, and I had so many questions, but her teary gaze stopped me from asking.
"You're my granddaughter, Inaya. How could I not feel your pain?"
she murmured softly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
My confusion deepened.
"No, I'm not your granddaughter. I don't have any grandparents, halmoni,"
I replied firmly, needing to clear up the misunderstanding.
She looked at me as if I were speaking a different language.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Don't joke like that, especially not in this condition,"
she said, gently but firmly.
"Just relax. Let me take care of you."
"I'm not joking!"
I said, feeling desperation bubble up in my chest.
"I don't have any grandparents, and why is everyone here dressed so strangely? This is the 21st century!"
I blurted out, feeling like the world had flipped upside down.
She looked even more bewildered, her eyes searching my face for some explanation.
"The...21st century?"
she repeated slowly.
"Inaya, what are you talking about? Did you hit your head somewhere?"
She gently examined my scalp, as if checking for injuries.
"We're in the Aureum Kingdom... and this is the 16th century."
Her words hit me like a wave. The 16th century? A kingdom? How could this be real?.
"16th c-century?"
The words slipped from my lips in a whisper, my voice filled with shock.
I stared at the old woman, hoping she was joking. Everything felt unreal.
I swallowed hard, feeling my heart hammer against my ribs.
"Please... please tell me this is some kind of joke. This isn't funny,"
I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but even I could hear the nervous tremor in it.
But her expression didn't waver. She looked at me with a serious gaze, her eyes clouded with concern.
"No, Inaya, I'm not joking,"
she said, her voice calm but firm.
"Why would I joke about something like this?"
Her words held a finality, and they hit me hard, making my chest tighten.
I felt the weight of her words settling on me.
It was as if my whole world had been pulled out from under my feet.
"Tell me, what happened to you?"
she continued, her voice softer now, her brows knitted with worry.
"And why are you wearing such strange clothes? Where are your proper garments?"
I couldn't answer.
My mind was too scrambled to form any kind of response.
Her words kept echoing in my head, mixing with my own rising confusion.
All of this-the strange village, the forest, her traditional clothing-none of it fit into the world I knew.
It was as if I'd been dropped into some historical drama, yet every part of this felt real. Too real.
And then, without even realizing it, I felt warm tears spilling down my cheeks.
The stress, the fear, the confusion-it all flooded out of me at that moment.
I tried to hold it back, tried to keep some control, but my emotions had other plans.
My shoulders shook as I let out a small, helpless sob.
The grandmother's eyes softened further, and her face filled with concern as she watched me.
Without a word, she reached out, pulling me gently into her arms.
She held me close, patting my back in soft, soothing motions.
Her warmth was oddly comforting, even though I barely knew her.
In her embrace, I felt a strange sense of safety-a shelter from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions crashing inside me.
"There, there... Are you crying? What's troubling you so much, my child?"
she murmured, her voice gentle, laced with worry.
She rocked me back and forth, trying to calm my trembling form.
But I couldn't answer her questions.
I was too overwhelmed, too scared, and just so lost in all of this.
I buried my face in her shoulder, the flood of tears refusing to stop, and clung to her as though she were the only solid thing in this strange new world.
My head began to throb, a dull ache building behind my eyes.
Everything started to blur.
I couldn't think straight, couldn't see clearly.
The last thing I remember was the gentle feel of her hands stroking my hair, her soft whispers as she tried to comfort me.
And then... everything went black.
The grandmother's heart sank as she felt my body go limp in her arms.
"Inaya?"
she whispered, looking down at my pale, tear-streaked face.
Her eyes filled with worry as she gently laid me down, brushing a stray hair from my forehead.
She stayed beside me, watching over me as if I were the most precious thing in her world, murmuring softly to herself.
"Why are you so troubled, my dear? And why... why would you say you're not my granddaughter?"
.
.
.
.
.
Her hands trembled slightly as she touched my face, filled with questions she didn't know how to answer, yet her heart was filled with an unshakable concern for the girl in her arms.
The elderly woman held the unconscious Inaya tightly, her eyes filled with concern as she called out,
"Eunwoo! Come here quickly!"
Her voice was steady, but a sense of urgency laced every word.
Moments later, a young teenage boy entered the room.
Eunwoo's face paled as he saw his grandmother holding Inaya, his older sister, close.
His gaze shifted to her unusual clothing, now stained with dust and smeared with small cuts.
"What happened to noona?"
he asked anxiously, stepping closer, his eyes scanning her face and the faint bruises on her arms.
Halmonie sighed, her brow furrowed deeply.
"I'm not sure,"
she said, The worry filling her voice.
"She was behaving so strangely... talking about things that made no sense. And then she fainted in my arms."
Eunwoo nodded, quickly assessing the situation.
Gently, he bent down and lifted Inaya into his arms, careful not to disturb her injuries.
Although still young, he was sturdy and strong, his years of work on their land evident in the ease with which he carried her.
Cradling her carefully in a bridal carry, he began to make his way to her room.
Halmonie followed closely behind, holding a wooden box containing her medicinal herbs and supplies.
Once they reached Inaya's room, Eunwoo laid her down on the bed with great care.
He looked to his grandmother, who gave him a grateful nod, signaling that he'd done enough.
"You go now, Eunwoo. I need to tend to her wounds,"
she said softly, placing the box of herbs and remedies on the bedside table.
Eunwoo lingered for a moment, glancing at his sister with worry in his eyes, but he respected his grandmother's request.
Bowing slightly, he left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
With a heavy heart, Halmonie sat beside Inaya.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she began to examine her granddaughter's injuries.
Her fingers worked skillfully as she applied gentle herbal mixtures to each bruise and scrape, wincing at the sight of every cut.
She whispered softly,
"What happened to you, my child? What has brought you to this state?"
As she continued to care for Inaya, a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Inaya's strange words from earlier echoed in her mind, filling her with a deeper worry than she cared to admit.
All she could do now was hope and pray that her granddaughter would soon awaken and give her the answers she so desperately sought.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
[Jeon Jungkook's POV]
That strange woman-a complete package of weirdness! How dare she kick me like that! The audacity! Just once, if I get my hands on her again, I'll make sure she regrets it.
I didn't even catch a good look at her face, thanks to the mud smeared all over it. But that won't matter.
If I find her, she'll learn a lesson she won't forget.
Doesn't she realize whom she tangled with? I'm the head leader of the army, the one no one dares to cross.
A spy, that's what she must be. Who else would have the nerve to sneak around the caves so close to the royal grounds?
I let out a deep sigh, trying to steady my breathing, but frustration boiled inside me.
The memory of her smug escape only fueled my anger.
I'd never felt so caught off guard, so... annoyed. And now, that irritation stuck like a thorn, impossible to ignore.
Fine. Let her hide.
She may think she's safe, but she'll slip up eventually. And when she does, I'll be there, waiting.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It's been a month now. I've searched for that woman every chance I get. Every time I leave the barracks, I scan the streets, check every alley, and look behind every corner.
But no trace. Not a single clue about where she went.
She won't slip through my grasp again.
She dared to mock me, to attack me-no one has ever done that, especially not a woman!
Today, I'm headed to the plaza again for my rounds.
There's also work to be done; I need to report the guard counts around the area. Recently, people have been complaining of strange sounds echoing through the night, whispers of things creeping around unseen.
I don't want to take any risks with the safety of my people.
It's my job to protect them, to keep them from any harm.
I mounted my horse, two of my soldiers falling in line behind me as we rode into the plaza.
People stopped to bow as we passed, their faces a mixture of awe and respect.
They know my reputation-bold, cold, and ruthless when it comes to enemies.
Otherwise, I keep to myself. I'm not one for idle talk or pointless smiles.
A man should have purpose, strength, and control.
.
.
.
.
Emotions are the greatest weakness.
A soldier, they teach us, should never let emotions cloud their judgment-never.
A single, fleeting moment of vulnerability can bring death swiftly.
This is what's been drilled into me and every soldier under my command. I demand that same focus, that same hardened will, from each one of them.
.
.
.
.
As I scanned the plaza, I saw it was bustling as always, merchants shouting their prices, children weaving through the crowd, people chatting.
Nothing seemed suspicious. With a sigh, I climbed down from my horse.
There was another task I needed to handle, a personal one.
My mother had given me a list of things to pick up from the fruit market.
Even though I'm a soldier, the head of the military, and the son of a respected minister, to her, I'm still just her son-a son she loves fiercely, enough to scold and even pull my ears if I don't listen to her.
My mother is the opposite of everything they taught me a soldier should be.
She's gentle, warm-hearted, and endlessly kind.
Even in a society that says men should always be stronger, colder, more reserved, she's never let that idea influence how she raised me.
She's the one who taught me that strength lies in respecting everyone, no matter their rank, gender, or status. Respect doesn't make a man weak; it makes him worthy.
She often speaks of love, something I don't quite understand.
To me, love is a distraction, an unnecessary vulnerability.
But she insists that it's powerful and enduring, something more than weakness.
And despite my doubts, I'm grateful for her words.
She's taught me more about honor and humanity than any general or instructor ever could.
My father, too, despite being a high-ranking minister of Aureum, is humble, grounded in his values.
I know that many view him with reverence, but he never lets that praise go to his head.
Together, they've given me a balance I wouldn't have otherwise, a sense of duty mixed with compassion.
And for that, I'm more grateful than I can ever express.
I looked at my list, deciding to get the fruits and head back quickly.
As I entered the fruit stall, the shopkeeper immediately stood up, bowing respectfully, his eyes flickering with a hint of fear.
This wasn't new; people often responded this way around me.
It was my aura, something that came naturally with the position I held and the way I carried myself.
Though I never hurt them and always protected them as my duty, the fear lingered.
I picked out the fruits, paid, and exited the stall.
I approached my horse, who was waiting patiently, though I could tell by the way she shifted her legs that she was eager for something.
Gently stroking her mane, I smiled.
"My princess, I know what you're after."
I reached into my bag and pulled out an apple, holding it up to her.
She nibbled it happily, shaking her head in pleasure. I chuckled.
"One more, or is that enough?"
She neighed softly, clearly wanting another, and I shook my head in amusement, giving her another apple.
"My fearless panther,"
I murmured, admiring her sleek black coat and proud stance.
Although she was a horse and not a panther, her strength and loyalty had earned her the nickname.
She had been with me in countless battles, always resilient and never backing down, no matter how dangerous the situation became.
Her breed, a Destrier, was known for being one of the strongest, and she was unique-stronger than most of the other horses, even those who were male.
I also had another pet, though he didn't live with me here.
He roamed in his own habitat, but I looked forward to visiting him whenever I could.
These two were more than animals to me; they were my companions, and I felt more at ease around them than I did with most people.
They weren't like humans, with selfish intentions.
They were loyal and dependable, and I treated them as my own family.
Lost in these thoughts, I was suddenly pulled back to reality by the shouts of people around me.
There was a commotion nearby, and people were moving aside quickly, looking alarmed.
I instinctively straightened up, my senses on high alert.
As I scanned the crowd, I noticed a girl running frantically, and behind her... a dog was chasing her.
I raised an eyebrow, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Was she really being chased by a dog?
She looked completely out of place in her traditional hanbok, as if she'd never worn it before, struggling to run without tripping over herself.
She was moving in such a chaotic way, dodging and weaving, nearly knocking over a few market stalls in her attempt to escape the harmless creature.
And before I could even fully process the scene, she headed straight toward me.
"What the-?" I began, but she crashed into me with full force.
The impact was enough to knock both of us down, and I felt the hard ground beneath me as I hit it, the fruits in my bag tumbling out in all directions.
Groaning, I realized she had landed on top of me, her weight pressing down as she struggled to regain her balance.
My back throbbed from the impact, and I clenched my jaw, trying to calm the irritation that rose inside me.
Of all things, being knocked down by a girl chased by a dog?
What kind of bizarre day was this turning into?
____________________________________________