One
Small Universes Around UsFor a term with such vague meaning, everyone knows what a ‘soulmate’ is.
To some people, a soulmate is a metaphor, a hyperbole for someone that you love so much, of someone you share a deep bond and connection with. Someone that is so perfect for you it was like they were made to be your match. Someone you can’t live without.
That’s how most people viewed the term.
Not Lee Taeyong or Nam Haeun.
No.
To them, the term soulmate meant the one person who they loved so much that they transcended life, time, and space.
The one person they would never be able to leave behind.
It doesn’t matter what year, what decade, what part of the world, what age they were at.
They would always find each other.
Always.
Joseon Dynasty —— 1889
It should be a crime to be locked up on a day like this.
The sun was shining but there was still a comforting breeze to cool the sweat. Birds were chirping and the sounds of kids running through the markets carried through the air. It was absolutely gorgeous out, beautiful to the point where it could lift your mood.
Maybe she’d call the local guards and file a complaint. Unlawful confinement.
“Sure, file a complaint but don’t expect us to come down and bail you out when they carry you off in handcuffs.”
Nam Haeun shot a glare at Mark Lee who stood behind her, stirring a bowl of batter with a smug smile on his face. She didn't realize she had spoken outloud.
“Mark leave her alone, she’s being fussy.” Her mom called from the kitchen.
Haeun groaned as she dramatically draped her body across the first-floor window of their little family bakery that was tucked in a small street filled with shops.
Nam’s Bakeshop had existed for 3 generations, passed down from son to son and being the first daughter of the Nam line, it was expected that Haeun would be taking it over when the time came.
No matter how many times she tried to convince Mark, a childhood friend who lived alone when his parents traveled, to inherit the store instead of her, it was clear. The store would be hers.
“Fussy is cruel and outdated language. And I am your daughter, you’re supposed to be on my side.” She huffed.
Her mother came out from the kitchen and shot her daughter a look before gently tugging on the sunflower print ribbon in Haeun’s hair. “Normally I am, but your father is sick and we’re running behind, so instead of daydreaming, help Mark with the cinnamon cakes please.”
Haeun let out another groan before dragging her body next to Mark’s and began lining the tray, “What if I pay you to take over the bakery when I inherit it?”
Mark rolled his eyes and began pouring the batter into little cups, “I love this place and your parents but the bakery is going to be yours, they really want you to take it. Also, you own nothing of value to bribe me with.”
“Ugh.” She leaned her cheek against her fist and watched Mark carefully bang the bottom of the tray against the counter to get rid of the air bubbles before moving to the fire pit oven.
After prodding the coals, Mark glanced her before pulling out a muffin that he had been hiding and slid it over to her, “How are you even planning on traveling the world when you don’t have any money?”
Her expression changed when the sweetness hit her tongue and when she was able to talk about her dreams, “I’ll find a way, maybe I’ll get a job that lets me travel.”
“You really think your parents will let you do that? Even without the shop, they want you to get married soon, Hae. You’re already 26.” He whispered the last part, knowing that it would upset her.
She frowned, dropping the muffin to look away, “They know I don’t want to get married until I get to see at least a little more of what’s out there.”
Mark sympathized with her, most women her age would’ve already been married and have kids but Haeun always did things differently. Her parents had begrudgingly agreed to delay searching for a groom, but the older they got, the more concerned they were getting. They wanted to make sure she had a family before they grew too old to work and it was going to be harder to find a suitor at her age.
“Mark, why don’t you marry me?” She cooed, batting her lashes.
Mark scrunched his face up, “Because I’m too young to have my entire future thrown away.”
She scoffed and socked him in the shoulder, making him laugh.
“Are you kids just goofing off or are you finishing today’s orders?”
Haeun’s eyes widened as she watched her father walk in, her mother scurrying in after him, “Dad, why are you up? Aren’t you still dizzy?”
“I told this old man that he should just take a rest but now he wants to go to the palace to make a delivery.” Her mother complained.
Her father brushed her off and began filling a wicker basket full of their nicest pastries. “The King has always been good to us, if it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t still be open.”
That much was true.
The King and Queen had come through their neighbourhood a few years ago and her father, excited as can be, got up the courage to approach the many guards and offer a cake to the royals. Luckily for them, the King loved it and since then, had a standing order every week for a basket of pastries. He had even gone as far as hiring the bakery to provide delicacies for the lunar new year festival.
“The Prince must be getting married soon, if we stay on his good side, he could ask us to cater the entire wedding. Can you imagine? Being asked to bake for a Royal wedding.” Her father said.
Her mother looked unimpressed, “But still, it’s a 2-hour trip to get there and another 2 hours back, I’m sure they will understand if you miss this week’s delivery.”
“I’ll go!” Haeun exclaimed, standing up.
Mark snorted, “Here she goes.”
Her father eyed her wearily, “You want to make a delivery?”
“Maybe she’ll propose to the Prince.” Mark joked, ignoring Haeun’s glare.
His snide comment got a smile out of her father who seemed to fully feel the heaviness of his illness and acquiesced, “Fine. You can go. But you’re coming directly back home, your mother still needs help.”
“Yes! I promise.” Haeun rushed to drape her robes over her clothes and take the basket from her father. She had never been to the palace before, only ever hearing the stories of how grande and luxurious it was and how beautiful Nobel men and women would be walking around the grounds.
She had always wanted to see inside.
“Listen carefully, when you’re at the entrance, one of the King’s aides will come out to and meet you, you can just pass her the basket and she’ll take it to the kitchen and bring back the basket. You are not to go in on your own, okay? I know you like to explore but remember, trespassing on Royal grounds is a crime, it doesn’t matter how much the King and Queen may like us.” Her father instructed.
She nodded excitedly before racing to the door, “I’ll see you tonight!”
“This was a good idea, right?” Her mother asked.
Mark chuckled and walked to the kitchen, “Just be ready to be exiled from the country when the guards find her trying to steal a priceless artifact.”
-----
It had been 30 minutes.
She had been standing outside the palace entryway for 30 minutes and no one had come to retrieve the basket like she was told. Her feet were sore and the sun had long set which meant that the loving breeze from earlier had turned into a frigid chill.
Haeun pulled her robes tighter against her shoulders as anger boiled up through her. She respected the King and Queen and the entire Royal family but it was disrespectful to leave her in the cold just because she was a normal citizen.
Who did they think they were?
Holding her head up, she rolled her shoulders back and stomped up the walkway to the palace. Almost as quickly as her confidence came, it simmered away.
She had just done the first thing her father told her not to. She was waiting for royal guards to spring out from the dark corners of the palace and tackle her to the ground. She quickly her heel and chewed her lip in thought.
Maybe she could just leave the basket on the ground or by the palace doors and take off running before anyone spotting her.
No.
She was sure the palace would be more alarmed with a mysterious package left unattended. They might think the food was poisoned. Mustering up the courage once more, she ly to slam face-first into someone’s chest. Gasping, she stumbled and looked up at the person, her heart dropping down to her stomach. He blinked curiously at her, tilting his head as he glanced at the basket in her hands.
She quickly lowered her gaze. “Prince! I—I’m so sorry, I mean, Your Highness I didn’t mean to be here, I was just delivering m—“
“Are those the cinnamon cakes from Nam’s Bakeshop?”
Her lips parted as she looked back up at him.
Jung Jaehyun.
The first and only Crown Prince. His good looks were almost as infamous as his kind and caring personality. She had never seen him up close, only as a spot in the distance whenever the Royal family would make public appearances.
He really was as beautiful as people said, he looked like he was made from marble and porcelain, not a single imperfection to be found. And he was dripping in luxurious robes made of the finest silk and gold spun thread.
“Y-Yes they are.”
His eyebrows knit together, “Where’s the owner? He always delivers them, doesn’t he?”
“He’s my father, and he’s just a little sick right now.” She breathed out, unable to grasp the fact that she was actually talking to a member of royalty.
His eye widened, “Oh gods, you’re Nam Haeun.”
“How on earth do you know that?” She whispered.
He grinned and she felt the oxygen escape her lungs. It was a blessing that he was going to be the face of their country one day, “Of course I do, your father talks about you all the time. He loves you a lot, I must say.”
She felt her own smile grow, “Really? What does he say?”
“If you hand me that basket, I can give you a tour of the palace grounds and tell you.” He offered.
Her eyes lit up as she nodded, “Are you sure, though? I’m supposed to deliver this to the kitchen.”
“Oh, if it goes to the kitchen my father will empty it out before I get a chance. Come on, follow me.”
-----
“And this is where we keep our family portrait. It’s a little gauche which is why we hide it in a back hallway.” Jaehyun pointed out while taking a bite of the cake.
The
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