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after nightfall TEASER

❝ 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁, 𝗒𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗒𝖺𝗍𝗂.❞

𝖣𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗒-𝗍𝗐𝗈-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌’ 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌—𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖲. 𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗎, 70𝗌 (𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅) 𝖺𝗎, 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖣𝗎𝖻𝖺𝗂 (!), 𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾, 𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗇!𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗆𝗂𝗇, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖮𝖱𝖲 𝖣𝖭𝖨).

𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳. 900 (teaser) | ~12𝗄 (𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝖼)

𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. 𝖤𝖬𝖡𝖠𝖱𝖱𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖫𝖸 𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖮𝖬𝖦 𝖡𝖸 𝖸𝖠𝖸 𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖳𝖮𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖱𝖮𝖶 𝖥𝖨𝖭𝖠𝖫𝖫𝖸

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 @svthub 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝖻, 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

Today, you're alone. Mariam has been called away to help with a task, leaving you with a rare moment of privacy to enjoy in your safe refuge—the Palace's library. And although roaming alone between the tall labyrinth of shelves feels somewhat lonely, given that you can't remember the last time you've been left on your own during the day for this long, the sensation of being completely unaccompanied outside your bedroom, with no one quietly walking behind you is... liberating.

Your fingers trail along the spines of the books within reach, eyes absentmindedly scanning the titles engraved on them in search of one that will capture your attention and, hopefully, dispel the persistent thoughts of the handsome, foreign musician who has unexpectedly and suddenly occupied your mind for the past week.

It's been a few days since you saw him lazily playing his oud in the servants' garden from your balcony in the middle of the night, and a mere 37 hours (yes, you were counting) since he gave you the sweetest, most beautiful smile you've ever seen in your entire life when your eyes met as you had tea with your sisters in the gazebo. You still remember the way your heart fluttered at that rather small and insignificant interaction, at how that small gesture caused you to dream about him and his—

You quickly stop that train of thought before it's too late. You can't afford to indulge in them, and you'd hate to look flustered in case you stumble upon one of the palace's servants and a rumor spreads because of your negligence. You have an image to uphold, and you can't possibly draw any attention to yourself when it should be all on your oldest sister. She’s the one getting married to the love of her life in a couple of weeks, and you don't want nasty rumors about yourself to possibly ruin these days for her.

A long sigh leaves your lips as you forcefully (but unsuccessfully) try to shoo the thoughts of him away by distracting yourself with the seemingly infinite amount of books and shelves that quite literally reach the ceiling.

The warm, golden afternoon light dances on the hardwood floor and your elegant dress as you quietly head towards the back of the room, where you always gravitate, since those towering shelves hold foreign volumes (and at times, rather promiscuous ones you always hide in your private quarters to enjoy late at night). Thoughts of the musician in the back of your mind, your eyes light up when they fall on a title you've never seen before—one that seems to be in French—so, curious, you walk closer to take it, getting on your tiptoes to reach the higher shelf, but only managing to touch the bottom of it. You huff and look around for the wooden stool that should be nearby when a voice you've never heard from this close speaks up from your right.

“May I help you, Princess Y/N?”

The gentleness in his voice makes your heart jump, and you swiftly turn to face the man that’s been plaguing your thoughts and dreams every day and night. You feel your cheeks darken when you're met with his signature bright smile and eyes, now framed by a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Why does he look even more handsome than usual like this? you think, noticing his hair not as perfectly brushed as usual, and him clad in a simple pair of light brown trousers and a white shirt. He tilts his head when you don't answer his question, and you're quick to put even more distance between your body and his before scrambling for an answer, a shy tone laced in your honey-like voice.

“Oh, uh–” you start, looking around nervously, hoping no servants see you and misinterpret your interaction. “Yes, thank you, sir.”

The musician nods as he points to the French book. “This one?” His eyes soften when you mutter a quiet 'yes'. He's quick to get it for you, and you marvel at how much taller he looks this close when he easily slides it out and hands it to you with a warm smile.

“Here, Princess.”

“Thank you, sir.” you give him a half bow as you take the book with both hands, making sure not to touch his long, beautifully manicured fingers, clad with a few rings (but none on his left, ring finger). You hate how your heart jumps excitedly at the thought of this young, stunning man not being married, as if you’ll ever have a chance to pursue anything with him.

He shakes his head at your words and immediately says, “No need for formalities, just call me Seokmin, Princess Y/N.”

“Seokmin.” you repeat, savoring the unfamiliar name on your tongue. It feels intimate, as if uttering it bridges a gap that the strict decorum instilled in you from a young age demands. Clutching the book to your chest—its hard, green cover a shield against the torrent of emotions threatening to betray you—you miss the way his ears and cheeks redden at the sound of his name uttered by you, just as he had dreamed ever since he first heard your voice.

𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 4𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗍 (𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍)