"Milord has chosen you to be his and his family's personal weaver," the guard spoke while Iseul's heart sunk in his shoes, why him after everything that happened the night prior, didn't the prince hate him?
Iseul shook his head "No," he declined "I'm not going, deeply I'm sorry-" he apologized, though it got cut short "You may not decline the orders of the lord." Iseul looked down, defeated.
"You are to join me back to the palace immediately, grab your belongings and I'll be waiting at the gate," already? They already had to go to the palace...
Of course the guard had to accompany him back to the palace as many people ordered to work there ended up never arriving due to running away.
Knowing Iseul ran from the prince the night prior, it wouldn't be of surprise if he were to join these people in fleeing the city himself. If only he had the chance to do so.
There wasn't much he had to take with him besides himself and a few robes, but a maiden told him right then and there that those matters would be taken care of by the palace themselves as he had earned a new rank now.
There he stood, a supply of thread and his personal weaving tools, ready to be brought to the prince's grounds. Despite his new rank 'The prince's weaver' he had to walk on foot, carrying the plenty of heavy supplies like a peasant would.
Though he hadn't had the chance to live as a normal weaver in this era, he knew that many would kill to be the position he had. He should feel thankful for this opportunity, but inside, all he could think of was that firm grip on his throat.
The strong fingers of the prince wrapped around his sensitive skin, the burning pressure he'd feel on his Adam's apple, he cleared his throat.
Oh how afraid he was...
The road towards the palace's grounds he had walked before felt longer than usual when he'd travel alone, perhaps the flashbacks and countless thoughts were slowing down time. The guard looked over his shoulder from up on his beautiful night colored horse and huffed.
He felt pity for this boy, he had worked for the Jang family nearly his whole adulthood and was all too familiar with how workers were treated, especially workers from his social standing.
It wasn't a surprised if the guard opened up at how many workers he'd see run away from the grounds, though if he would, he'd be hunted for letting them go off.
He let them escape the horrible fates and never tried to recover their tracks in hopes to safe them from losing their heads.
Once they arrived at their destination, Iseul stopped by the entrance of the gate, trembling in his shoes as unshakable footsteps neared them. The prince came to greet his new worker himself it seemed.
Iseul slowly looked up at Jun-Suk and then back at the ground. "This is how you decide to greet someone who gave you a great opportunity, a prince even," the arrogant prince spoke before yanking Iseul by the back of his head by his soft hair.
The guard didn't dare speak up or even look at their direction, if he did, he would've been punished for misbehaving around his lord.
"Look at me, weaver-" the prince demanded, Iseul looking him right in the eyes "How dare you look me in the eyes, did I specifically tell you to look there?" Right, this man took great detail in how one followed his orders.
Iseul looked at the prince's neck instead with weak defeated eyes, making the prince grow a grin on his face. He had found the perfect weaver and showpiece to watch whenever he pleased. "Bring him to his room," the prince said as two maidens hurried towards Iseul.
They gave Iseul a bow "Please follow us, dear weaver" one of the ladies spoke with a soft gentle voice, the one of a mother.
At least the other workers were nice to him for now, they already did so much. They tidied up his room to be as much of a comfort to him as they could. But why? Why did they have to smother him with kindness, could he trust this?
Perhaps they felt for him and his position, assuming from the stares he'd gain from those passing by, were there rumors already? Did they see him enter the prince's chambers the prior night?
Shivers ran down his spine.
Just as Iseul looked over at his door opening, he saw the guard stand there with his strong slightly dirt smudged hand resting on the handle of his sword "I hope you'll find some form of comfort in your room."
Iseul cleared his throat "Thank you..." he mumbled before the guard gave him a nod before he opened his mouth to give him a word of encouragement.
"If you do as he specifically says, you shouldn't be having too much of a bad time. Milord is a very mischievous and stern man who doesn't accept those who don't follow up on their words or orders." That was quite clear, Iseul thought.
"Further on your weaving career here, you shall be asked to carry out a lot, some may even being out of your comfort zone," what did the guard mean? Iseul cleared his throat "I cannot tell you what those orders may be."
The guard knew exactly what question he'd received as many young men before Iseul had asked the same question who were in the same position as this weaver was.
Once the guard stepped away, Iseul slid the door to a small creak; turning around he looked around his room. This room held so much luxury, the air even smelling of expensive scents falling from the beautiful fabrics of his bed, yet all this amount of luxury didn't soothe his mind.
His mind was fixated on what possible orders could be out of his comfort zone... Already forced to work here for such beast was out of his comfort zone, how much worse could it even be?
He didn't want to know.