Once Upon A Time in Joseon

9. Timeless Longing

With each encounter he came closer to realise how magical this all was? How unreal this world seemed. How far he was from the girl. How he could never get her. How he could never move on.

How will he live if the girl is gone someday? How will he get through the days and nights? Will moving on be more painful than having her in front of her and not having her at all?

Nobody knew but me

In the serene expanse of Joseon, the golden rays of dawn casted long shadows over the lush valleys and vibrant villages. The perfect King, the perfect Young Crown Prince, the perfect kingdom, the perfect time to live and the perfect time to fall in love, one just needs to find that perfect person. In those perfect moments the Crown Prince chose the most unappropriate partner. He found himself entranced by a presence he never anticipated—her.

The young herbalist lingered in his thoughts like a delicate fragrance, a constant distraction from the weight of his royal responsibilities. Despite the kingdom's adoration and the duties that came with his title, he felt a profound longing for a connection he dared not pursue under the surveillance of the whole palace, the whole court, and the whole country.

As a prince, mingling with a common girl was a risk he could not afford. A shame on the royal family. A shame on the Crown Prince. The strictures of royal life held him captive, binding him to the expectations of perfection.

Yet, who could stop him when he is the one stopping the whole world. The small button-like object gifted by his beloved teacher on his deathbed might not be there just to make him the best king. It was also there to let the Crown Prince rest. Maybe Master Jang knew his student would never take a rest if he didn't have the time right in his palm. The Crown Prince never realised what made his heart feel at rest and what made his days easier until the girl.

The button allowed him to halt the relentless march of time, giving him the freedom to escape the palace's stifling walls and immerse himself in the simplicity of her existence.

With the activation of the time stopper, the world around him would succumb to a hush. The palace, usually alive with the clatter of court life, would fall silent. Servants rushing here and there freeze. Horses frozen mid-gallop, villagers paused in their daily tasks, and the wind itself seemed to hold its breath. Each visit began the same way, with his heart racing in anticipation as he turned her way in this magical stillness.

He traversed the distance to her humble hut with a sense of urgency. Has he been here a long time ago? Every step brought him closer to her, a girl whose beauty captivated him in one glance—a shimmering mirage in his otherwise structured life. Upon arriving, he would find her suspended in serenity, such a beautiful statue caught in the embrace of time. He could gaze at her for hours, mesmerized by the delicate contours of her face, the way sunlight danced in her hair, and the ethereal calm that surrounded her. It was a world devoid of obligations and scrutiny, where he could lose himself—sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks—embracing the longing that enveloped his heart.

For a Prince so perfect, for a kid who lived alone in a still world surrounded by frozen bodies that did not breathe, weeks felt like nothing. It was an old habit to stay without food for days and be just fine, but he was going too far. The path to the forest might be the reason why he felt so tired or maybe the feeling of leaving his love there and coming back to this prison. his health deteriorated a bit. It was easy to notice, for someone so perfect even one bit fo dirt was still too much dirt.

But nothing was enough to convince him to stop, there was nothing that he could think to stop himself.

There were so many things that would have binded him to his rooms, so many things that could have glued his foot to the palace floor, so many reasons to stop right where he was. Maybe the Crown Prince didn't think at all. Maybe he knew how many reasons he had so he decided to ignore them all at once. The time he spent with the girl talking, laughing, watching, admiring and loving was too precious to the Crown prince right now that he decided to betray his own future.

The way he picked flowers from the trees, the way he took ornaments from the market, the way he would collect the best poetries in his favourite literature books. only if we all could stop thinking this time became the best time of his life. the best moments of his youth. the fleeting feeling of first love. the magic of hearts not time.

As he watched her, he imagined what it would be like if she could move, if he could hear her laughter, the soft melody of her voice. He would bring her gifts, envisioning the light that would dance in her eyes as she accepted them. He longed to share sweet drinks with her, picturing her laughter spilling into the air, filling the stillness with joy. A beautifully crafted doll would rest in her hands, a symbol of his hopes for her happiness. He adorned her surroundings with soft pillows and elegant trinkets, transforming the ordinary into something magical, a world filled with dreams.

Each stolen moment sparked fantasies that raced through his mind. He would speak to her, pouring out his heart, sharing his hopes and fears as if she could hear him.

Inside her home, he moved like a shadow, exploring a life paused in perfection. She would be seated by her window, her figure poised mid-action, an image of tranquility. He marveled at how the sunlight played in her hair, how her expression conveyed a depth of emotion he yearned to understand. With each visit, he committed every detail to memory—the soft fabrics of her clothes, the unfinished meal left on the table, and the simple comforts that surrounded her. He learned of her favorite flowers, the way she carefully placed her shoes by the door, and how she folded her blankets with a tender grace.

Even when time resumed its relentless pace, he found himself haunted by her essence. He wandered through the village, a ghost among the living, searching for whispers of her name. His inquiries, subtle and careful, unveiled fragments of her existence. Yet, when he scoured the village records, desperately seeking her name and history, he was met with silence. It was as if she was an enigma, a specter moving through life known to many but unnoticed by all but him.

The knowledge tormented him—the girl who had woven herself into the fabric of his thoughts was nameless. Just known as a healer by the hill. A phantom in a world teeming with life, known only to him through the stolen moments of stillness. In the silence that followed his visits, he would often reflect on the irony of it all. Here he was, a prince destined for greatness, yet shackled by the solitude of his heart, forever bound to a girl whose life was only a whisper on the wind.

With each encounter he came closer to realise how magical this all was? How unreal this world seemed. How far he was from the girl. How he could never get her. How he could never move on. How will he live if the girl is gone someday? How will he get through the days and nights? Will moving on be more painful than having her in front of her and not having her at all?

Nobody knew but me
What the prince will do to the girl
To the kingdom, to the court
To the future, to the world.