The King

After the death of the woman, the abuse of the boy would increase; he would always have red marks and bruises, and his physique was small and slim. The little boy often visited his father, begging him to stop the bullying. But every time the father saw his son, he would only be reminded of his mistakes, so he dismissed him.

And years passed fast for others, but not the jinx boy who had dealt with nightmares for the years to come.

When his older brother was 16 and he was 11, he watched his brother gallop on the horse, when suddenly the horse would move upward, causing the brother to fall and bleed, he bled till his last pulse dropped and died, leaving the jinxed boy as an official heir.

The king had no choice but to recognise the little boy as his own and became nice and overprotective of his only son.

At the jinxed boy's twenty-second birthday, his father left to lead a war, which the kingdom won, but the king never came back, leaving the ruling to the jinxed boy, and that boy is the present king.

He was angry at this world and system that made his father resent and hate him, and this made the king promise himself that he would give names and titles to the kids who deserved it, and not to those who were born with a golden spoon in their mouth.

That's how the underdogs were formed.

The king's mercy on those kids made a lot of them loyal to a point that they would lose their autonomy and submit fully to him, no questions asked. Since the king never received proper affection, he didn’t know how to deal with the underdogs' unconditional support. He decided to make a rule where only a few would be his, and that's why there are the masked underdogs; the mask is for their sake of privacy.

He knew that, sooner or later, they would want more, and that was the reason he added a mask.

Seren was amazed, in her eyes, the king was only her father's friend and another authority, but seeing him in a new light made her respect him more.

The Trip resumed in silence. Bala was looking through the carriage's window, while Lotus was sleeping, her head resting on Bala's lap.

Seren sat holding the black swan plushie in her hand, thinking about the hairpin; there was a star hanging at the edge of it. She pouted.

“Did it belong to someone he liked and respected, or was he married? Why do I care? I actually don't, but the star looked familiar.” She pulled the hairpin from her pocket with a twitch in her eye. She glared at the plushie angrily, then sighed, hugging it while holding the hairpin in her hand, closing her eyes to nap a bit.

After a little while, the carriage stopped. Seren quickly woke up, putting the hairpin in her pocket, and threw the plushie to the side.

Owen got out of the carriage, opening the door. We reached our destination.

Seren nodded coldly, getting down from the carriage, without questioning their whereabouts.

Bala, however, asked, “Where are we?”

Owen was confused by Seren's demeanor, but answered Bala, “We are at my cottage.”

“I had a house around the border of this land and the neighboring land.”

“This king gave it to me a long time ago,”

“It is also near to my homeland,”

He looked at Seren, “I am not filthy rich, so no random spending.”

Again, Seren ignored him and called out, nodding, “Come on, Bala, Lotus,”.

The following days in that cottage remained awkward between Owen and Seren, with her often ignoring and avoiding him.

Owen asked Lotus and Bala, but they didn't have an answer.

Owen was confused; he recalled and reflected on his previous actions, and it suddenly clicked, “Is it because she found the hairpin? Did she think I had stolen it from her? Is that why? Or worse, she knew…” his stomach fell.

Seren on the other hand ignored because he didn't want to face him, not with her unexplained anger.

Owen wanted clarity, so he decided to visit and question her. He knocked on her door, which was already open, but no one answered, so

He entered the room, looking around for her. She wasn’t there, but he noticed an enchanted-looking tiny notebook. It looked small in his hands, yet it was filled with a pen’s elegant dances. It was Seren’s diary. He read:

"You will be a great leader, a soldier, a poet. You have the world ahead of you. These are the lies that were formulated for me; after all, I am the oldest. But why would they lie, teaching me to dream? Yet when faced with reality, I’m asked to shut up and speak only when spoken to. I am expected to doll myself up, and I catch myself slowly becoming stoic until my skin turns to porcelain and my eyes are no longer windows to my soul, but rather the prison that traps me. No, I won’t forgive them for turning me into a prize to be won, for making me a product of pleasantry to be sold and bought.

So, when my pale porcelain self is forced to tolerate roses growing out of my veins, I hope my blue body scandalizes the people who gave me this life. The rotting smell would be the symbol that exposes their priorities. They have never seen me as human, but rather as an inferior being who should tolerate unjustified dominance. They didn’t choose me; they preferred to praise their kind of existence, even if it means that my pores will hold lakes from the falling rivers."

Owen did not know what to say. She never showed what she truly feared, she simply sat radiating warmth to everyone.

While holding her diary, Seren entered the room, glancing at him holding her diary.

She gasped and turned on her heel and ran away.

Owen saw her, his eyes reflected her face.

“So that's what happens when you get near the sun.”

He was done with everything; he was done hiding and watching, and so he went to his room, reached his bathroom, washed off his makeup, and took the fox mask with him, following her.

He found her sitting on the grass in front of the citrus tree.