Chapter 60

The bell of St. Martin struck and echoed across the small town of Chur, in the eastern part of Switzerland. Where the terracotta roofs of each of the pretty houses and buildings were covered in thick layer of snow, reminding Jennie of a miniature Christmas village that her Dad used to set up under the Christmas tree when she was a kid, for her entertainment. A battery-motored red train would go round and round around it and tiny villagers in thick clothes with jolly faces were scattered around the tiny village.

Chur was a quintessence of that Christmas village and perhaps it was of the reasons why she decided to spend the holidays in this charming five thousand year-old town and Switzerland’s oldest city, after she saw a postcard-worthy photo of the town square with its quaint houses on a winter time, when she was randomly browsing through the Web while looking for a destination. And indeed, it was perfect that she decided to stay there until her vacation is over, instead of jumping on the next train after exploring the old town.

Jennie decided to take a two-week break after the annual company Christmas party celebration that she attended before she boarded the jet and after a gruelling months of meetings and planning for the opening of the Kim Group Hotel chain – the newest venture of the Kim Group and one of her major projects – which they timed perfectly before the start of the holidays to accommodate the surge of tourists wanting to spend their Christmas in Seoul. One column described it as the ‘expansion of the hegemony of the Kim Group of Companies, signalling another triumph that Miss Jennie Kim, President and CEO, has won yet again after today’s remarkable milestone of South Korea’s biggest conglomerate’.

Jennie found that article ridiculous, however, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that it was nothing but praises for her and her brand of leadership, when the writer described her success as ‘a stroke of brilliance’.

A stroke of brilliance? No one in their right mind would dare call a milestone ‘a stroke of brilliance’ after she, as the sitting president and chairwoman, had been setting milestones after milestones for the company, carving her own legacy by making the Kim Group a global-tier with foreign investors marching on the entrance, desperately seeking for her audience, for partnership. In fact, she had just closed an important deal in Paris for a clothing line, which she partnered with some of the brilliant young minds of the Kim clan who knew a great deal about the fashion industry and whose innovative ideas she trusted. It was part of her strategy as President and CEO – to not isolate the young minds by inviting them to discuss ideas and let them partake in the business. Jennie wanted to end the conventional approach of the conglomerate through inviting the modernists to help her design a more contemporary method which would be beneficial for the long-term goal of the Kim Group, while infusing the orthodox ideas that the brilliant minds of the older Kims would suggest her. A win-win solution.

Hence, she saw the article, and it was hard not to take it personally, an insult to her three years of being President and CEO. Even the boards and the shareholders who had shown shameless reluctance to her leadership at first were now convinced that she was the right successor to lead them. She did that in three years and the writer decided to reduce all her hardwork to ‘a stroke of brilliance’? The audacity! But while she was personally outraged by it, Jisoo thought it was an eye-opener.

“I agree. It somehow opened my eyes that the world is made up jealous old men who hate young, successful women to thrive on her chosen field and so they would try to smear the woman’s reputation by cajoling her ego before destroying it and then expect her to laugh at his joke,” Jennie told Jisoo, when the latter dropped by her office when that article was released and Jennie wasn’t particularly delighted about it.

“I hate that guy and I don’t agree with most of the things that he wrote about you, to be honest. But what I meant to say when I said that his article was an eye-opener, was that it should open your eyes to the idea of taking a break,” said Jisoo.

“There was nothing in his article that suggested I should do that, Chu. In fact, if I should read between the lines, I think he meant to suggest that I should work double time to impress him. As if I haven’t been working double time since day one and as if I would ever want to impress someone like him. Who does he think he is?” Jennie said scathingly.

“Someone who successfully gets under your skin, apparently,” Jisoo replied with a smirk.

“Right. A privilege that he thinks he earns and enjoys, no doubt, because we’re letting him. I’m letting him,” Jennie said scornfully. She didn’t personally know the man behind the article but she was told he was a senior correspondent to Seoul Daily and a certified prick. Jennie was told that the man probably took it personal when she refused an interview that he requested a few times through her office. But to her defense, she was a busy person and an interview would only disrupt her schedule.

“Well, you said you didn’t want to invite unnecessary drama when he aimed his cheap shot at you after that luncheon meeting you attended with the diplomats last year.”

Oh, yes. She remembered that. It was his first attack on her. “That’s because it was a cheap shot,” Jennie said, recalling in her mind the ridiculousness of the article, written by the same correspondent, calling her a snob when she left the meeting earlier than the rest of the attendees. In her defense – and it was released by the PR team – was that she had another important meeting to attend to that day and the diplomats were all aware about it.

“But that old gruff is having your attention now. It’s either he finally touched a nerve or you allowed him to touch a nerve,” Jisoo said.

“Your point being?”

“That you should take a break. You’re obviously so stressed out and that’s probably the reason why he has successfully found a way to get under your skin. Go on a vacation and free your mind from all these. You seriously look like you need one,” Jisoo said. Concern was now on her voice. She couldn’t remember the last time that Jennie enjoyed a rest.

“And leave the company to whom exactly?” Jennie asked with a bemused look, as if Jisoo had just told her a bad joke.

“To everyone working for you. They’ve never disappointed you eversince you took office. They’re efficient and they work hard. You’ve been working yourself hard and you never once taken a break even when everyone in the company is benefitted with holiday breaks and work leaves. You deserve that for yourself, too. In fact, you deserve it the most.”

“No, I don’t think that’s possible, Chu. Because a part of me thinks that if I will rest for a day, the company might collapse and I cannot let that happen,” Jennie said.

“You might collapse one day from all the things that have been stressing you out. Go easy on yourself for once and take a break, Jendeuk. Or is this your way of diverting your attention from—,”

“No, no, no. Stop right there, Chu. I don’t want to talk about it,” Jennie cut her off while flapping her hands in the air as though warding off whatever was on her thoughts.

“You’re still evading the subject, I see. Which validates my point that you’re working yourself to death if only it would help you eliminate the matter from your mind. You’re not doing yourself a favor, I’m telling you. It’s doing more harm to you than good,” Jisoo replied.

“Taking a break would do harm to the company than not taking a break would to me. I’m just doing my job. Besides, I’m not doing this for me. You know that,” Jennie said.

“Chu’s right, darling. You should learn from the mistake of your father,” Mrs Kim said when she entered the room. She heard the conversation, apparently.

“Dad dedicated his life to the conglomerate, Mom, and he loved every second of it. I don’t think he ever considered it a mistake,” Jennie said after she and Jisoo greeted Mrs Kim with a bow.

“He did. He spoke about it on his last days. He said it’s not the cancer that’s going to take him away from us – away from you, especially. It’s the conglomerate; the company. He spent most of his life working and making sure that he’s at the top that it made him inaccessible from doing his duty as a husband and a father. He regretted it,” Mrs Kim said. Three years had gone by and she still looked as regal as ever.

“And yet he put me exactly where he was when he was still alive. That’s not exactly one should do to stop history from repeating, to be honest,” Jennie replied.

Mrs Kim smiled kindly to her. “There was no one else fit for the job and you know that,” she told Jennie kindly. “Anyway, your father had always known you’re different. You’re more stubborn and you do not yield so easily and that’s the reason why he entrusted the job to you.”

“Thank you, Mom. I’ll take that as a complimentband my reason exactlt why I can't agree with the two of you suggesting that I should take a break. I’m stubborn and don’t yield easily,” said Jennie with a victorious smile. She thought she had won the argument.

Jisoo tutted and turned to Mrs Kim. “You know what, Mrs Kim? I honestly think she’s only doing this to forget Lisa,” she said, dropping the name so casually that it successfully wiped off Jennie’s smile and turned into a glare.

“A battle that she hasn’t won for the last three years,” Mrs Kim replied with a sigh dramatically.

“I’m still here and I can clearly hear everything and I’m not liking what I’m hearing right now,” Jennie said, eyeing Jisoo and her mom reproachingly. She hated it when they would talk about Lisa so casually in front of her.

It was bad enough that the press would ask her about the royal, every chance they would get. As if she needed reminding when in hindsight, the promise that Lisa had spoken so eloquently to her during that press con three years ago had given everyone the chance to remind her about it. It had been haunting her since then. The way oftentimes she thought she’d caught people looking at her with sympathy had never failed to strike a nerve. As though they feel sorry for her that she’d have to wait for the ‘right time’ and as though she needed it. That promise somehow defined her, in the eyes of those who thought there was nothing better to do with their lives than to pry on her life.

“Take a break, darling. Travel. Go somewhere. Unwind. Rejuvenate. Don’t worry about the company. Chu and I, and along with everyone else who works for you, will make sure that everything will be fine while you’re away. I assure you that.”

And so here she was, unwinding. Rejuvenating. Travelling to the other side of the world, alone and spending her Christmas holidays in a town that not a soul knew who she was and why she was there and which she preferred, exactly. She didn’t want anyone fretting over her being there. She had never phoned anyone from the office since she arrived and only called Chu and her mom, once, to tell them that she arrived (but did not elaborate where she was exactly, only that she was somewhere in Europe, surrounded by the Alps) safely and to feed her dogs, Kuma and Kai, and told them not to contact her unless it’s a life and death situation.

“We suggested a break, not a total isolation. You’re not going to do anything stupid there, are you?” Chu said.

“This is a small town, Chu. And a very old one, at that. There’s nothing to do here except whiling away the time inside my hotel room, thinking about why I’m here instead of running the company. This is going to be very boring, I’m telling you.”

But she was wrong.

It had been a week since she arrived in Chur and while it was true that she was alone, she was, however, loving the isolation, so far. It was so much better than she had imagined. Because Chur was offering her a lot of things to do that it was impossible to stay all day in her hotel room and contemplate about her life.

Jennie had already visited the museums (the Raticshes was her favorite) and the old library of files. She had visited the old churches of Chur, too. She was a frequent visitor of the St. Mary of Assumption in the afternoon and would drop by the church of St. Martin – the largest building in Chur and one whose presence cannot be missed because of its tall spire – before she would start her day; she loved the interior of the church mainly for its three glass windows where the Christmas story was depicted.

When she wasn’t hopping from churches to museums or visiting shops and boutiques, tasting what gastronomical surprises that Chur would offer or tasting a variety of wines or picking and reading books or shopping for trinkets and clothes, and skiing in the mountain on her fifth day, Jennie would spend her time walking along the cobbled street, marvelling at the stunning Swiss architectures and the street art frescoes while occasionally conversing with the locals and tourist alike, that she met on the streets. They were a bit curious about the pretty Korean who could be seen walking along the cobbled lanes for days now, entering shops and emerging from alleyways and monumental archways, all by herself. She could be seen wrapped in thick, winter clothes because the weather in Chur was unforgiving. She could be seen with a camera with its leather strap hanging on her neck and stopping by from time to time to take photos of the things that would piqued her interest and curiosity, mostly people and what they do in the daily.

She had taken her interest in photography for a year now. Film, to be exact, and would ask Manager Young to send the rolls to Bobby, who was still running Lisa’s old studio. Jennie would like to think that she was trying to understand (and slowly understood) Lisa and her mind through the lens – the way how Lisa wanted to see it.

Jisoo and her mom were wrong when they insisted that she was all work and no play. Sure, she could be seen working day and night and spent most of her days in her office, poring her head over papers after papers and hopping from one meeting to another, most of the time or riding the jet and fly to where her job and her position in the society would take her, to meet people who would become instrumental to the hegemony of the Kim Group. But on her free time – which was mostly rare but otherwise valuable – she would ask Manager Young to take her somewhere, away from the hustle and bustle of the company. She would ask him to take her to the park if she was lucky enough to be given a free hour or two; to the countryside on a weekend, once or twice; and a few times she went to Hongdae, dressing incognito because she didn’t want to be recognized. She would met Chaeng there, on her bar, when Chaeng was in the district and they would spend the night talking about her.

Jennie paused on her tracks when her mind drifted so suddenly to that night three years ago. Perhaps Jisoo and her mom were right when they said she was working her ass off to take her mind off Lisa and the haunting memory of an eloquently spoken promise. Especially at night when the world around had already fallen asleep and there was only the memories of Lisa to keep her awake until sleep would take her, finally.

That had become the routine of her life after she refused Jisoo to take her to that airport that night, three years ago, before Lisa would depart for Thailand. Jisoo called it her most stupid decision ever and Chu had never forgiven her for that yet.

“You know, I was just thinking,” Jisoo told Jennie one time, when she did a quick drop-by in the executive office.

“What?”

“What if you went there that night? This would’ve been an entirely different story and you wouldn’t have turned out like this,” said Jisoo when she paused in front of Jennie’s desk and frustration was all over her face. It was one of those days where she would permit Jisoo to nag her about it.

“I turned out like what, exactly?” Jennie asked with a raised brow and looking at Jisoo ominously behind her gold-rimmed glasses.

“Standoffish.”

Jennie issued a chortle. She was expecting an insult. “Since when did I struck as friendly, Chu?” she said. Amusement was dancing on her eyes all of a sudden.

“Cold,” Jisoo continued.

“I was never really a ball of sunshine,” replied Jennie with a snort.

“Lonely.”

“Blame my work. It’s taking away my social life, too,” Jennie said and picked another folder.

“I’ve never seen you laugh for a long time,” said Jisoo morosely.

“That’s because there’s nothing remotely funny about my job,” Jennie said gravely.

“And I often wonder if you regret it,” Jisoo said, looking at her curiously.

“No,” Jennie said firmly. She perfectly knew what Jisoo was talking about. She was aware that Chu had been waiting for the perfect chance to ask her that.

“You’re a bad liar,” Jisoo concluded after a long moment of assessing Jennie’s reply.

“No. I mean it, Chu. I don’t regret it at all. But sometimes I’d wonder what could’ve happened if I went there and meet her before she left. Sometimes I’d make up different scenarios in my head, trying to come up with something that – like you said – would’ve made this a different story.”

“So, why didn’t you?”

“Because I thought it’s not what she wanted me to do,” said Jennie.

“What does that even mean? Of course, she wanted you to be there, Ruby Jane. You heard what she said on TV. You understood it better than everyone else,” Jisoo said indignantly.

“I did. And that’s why I didn’t run to the airport that night, Chu. She wouldn’t have spoken those words to me on TV when we could’ve simply met before she left. She knew exactly where to contact me, how to contact me. She didn’t have to do all that grandeur of an announcement. Besides, it wouldn’t have made any difference, anyway. It’s what I’ve realized after making up all those scenarios in my head. She’d still leave and go back to her country and we’re still bound to fulfil our duties to our families. So, no, Chu. It wouldn’t have been a different story, even if I went there that night.”

“Hallo!” a local greeted Jennie that pulled her back to the present. It was the old lady from the shop across her hotel, whom she had spoken to a few times but had never gotten her name. They had been exchanging greetings and short conversations in the streets eversince Jennie visited the lady’s shop that sells fruity wines, on her third day in Chur.

“Grüazi!” Jennie replied with a warm smile and gave the lady the customary Korean bow.

The lady then asked her if she was going somewhere and if she cared for a drink and would Jennie care to join her for dinner later.

“I’m cooking,” the old lady said proudly and showed Jennie her bag of groceries. “I know you’ve tasted great food around here but you haven’t try my Polenta and braised beef yet,” she said.

Jennie said it was tempting, even groaned a little bit, and that she really wanted to come (because honestly, she missed dining with someone who she can converse with while indulging in a warm bowl of homecooked goodness) but she had already booked a table at the Zschaler House, in Obere Gasse.

The lady chuckled at the way Jennie scrunched her face, thought it was cute and said it was okay; that Jennie can come anytime while she was still in Chur and then bid Jennie an early goodnight.

The old lady, who was a spinster, was one of the growing number of locals who had grown friendly of the schöne Koreanerin – as they fondly call Jennie – and would offer her a warm hello and invite her for cheese delights and a hot cup of coffee everytime they would see her. Their faces had become familiar to Jennie as she to them and Jennie thought that her stay in Chur would’ve been pleasantly warm if not for one reason that had been nagging her.

Jennie’s favorite people in Chur, she decided, include the small group of teenage boys whom she would usually see kicking a soccer ball in the square of the Old Town, near the fountain. They were a regular sight in the square, disrupting the calmness of the area with their boisterous energy and laughter that would echo across the square. The group of friends would wave her a cheerful hello everytime they would see her walking across the square or sitting on one of the outdoor tables of the coffee shops nearby. They would call her the schöne katze or beautiful cat, because of her eyes. They liked her eyes, they would tell her, which was somehow flirtatious in manner, but Jennie didn’t mind. The flirting didn’t affect her. Rather, it was what the flirting would remind her that affect her. It would remind her of Lisa and the way Lisa would look into her eyes. Those soft brown orbs staring into her cat-like eyes and straight into the depth of her soul, which would then curve into a smile, because it was how Lisa would always look at her.

Jennie missed her. She had always known that part of herself and that was what exactly drove her to photography. She wanted to feel Lisa through the way the body of the camera would touch the tender skins of her palms. It was ridiculous, if she’d have to be honest, and the ridiculousness of it was why she never told Jisoo about it – about her growing interest in photography. But it was the only way that she could think of that would connect her to the Thai, at least.

The photos would speak their soul to her as soon as they would came back from Bobby’s studio – crisp and smelled of chemicals. Chemicals that would instantly remind her of that one time she and Lisa were inside that dark room, making out and disrupting the film rolls on the trays when Lisa lifted her to the table.

Jennie thought that maybe by doing so, the soul of the world which Lisa was thirsting for and would look from one city to another, from one old coffee shop to another, or wherever those long legs, those curious brown eyes and the insatiable hunger in the Thai’s soul would take her, would also speak to her the same way it does to Lisa. Or used to, because Jennie wasn’t sure now if Lisa was still as hungry and curious of the world as she used to before they met.

She had stopped updating herself about what Lisa was doing now, or where Lisa was at now. That way, she’d feel a little at ease with not knowing, because it was better not knowing, and so that the yearning would visit her only at night, when she was alone and her cold bed would remind her of the things that could have been.

But Jennie missed Lisa more each day while in this old town of Chur. Perhaps it was the solitary she had enforced herself that she had come to realize and admit the very thing that she stubbornly insisted and denied to herself (and Jisoo, of all people) all these years. That she regretted it. She regretted not rushing to the airport and see Lisa for the last time that night, and maybe asked Lisa for the assurance of that ‘right time’. When would that be? How long would she have to wait? She regretted not asking Lisa those questions. She regretted building a wall around herself, so high and thick that would shield her from any news about Lisa. And so that when the press would pressed her about Lisa, she would only met them with silence and icy glares.

Jennie regretted the forgotten promise and the lost love. Because as painful as it was – and it was that pain which pushed her to shut herself to the world – it was the reality of their story.

Gone.

It ended when she insisted that ‘right time’ should never be forced and enforced. That right timing should happen in its natural course – unplanned and unprecedented. Because what was the point of being told to wait for the right time if she had to run to the airport that night and then forced the universe – begged, even – to rally with them? Jennie would often convince herself that, before sleep would take her at night.

Jennie regretted all of that, especially now, while in Chur. She didn’t have to be miserable, did she? She had a choice, hadn’t she? And she chose to be miserable especially today of all days, when the Christkindlimarkt, the famous Christmas Market in Chur, was happening later. And so there she was, crying over the things that she regretted most in a deserted alley. The lonely schone katze and her dishevelled spirit, feeling lost and more alone despite the jolly fairy lights hanging above her head and the songs of Merry Christmas from the nearby households, wishing that she wasn’t as stubborn and unyielding, like what her father perceived her to be. Then maybe, she had ran to the airport that night and kissed Lisa so ferociously before her plane would take off, if it was, indeed, the last time.

And suddenly, as though the idea had hit her square in the face, Jennie decided that she didn’t want to be in Chur anymore. Strange as it seemed, she missed the company. The company was the fortress that would protect her from the frailties of being human.

It was time to return to Seoul, Jennie decided. She would catch the last train for Zurich and from there she would fly back to Seoul.

....

Pranpriya had taken her phone with her but had put it on airplane mode as soon as the train left the station. She left a short message to the captain, saying that she should be back by tomorrow.

Snow-covered landscape and the Alps capped in white were blurring past her window as the train was in full throttle, half an hour after they Zurich. Pranpriya was paying no mind to that, however, as she was occupied at the moment. Her attention was on the book she was reading. It was a paperback called The Ethics of Seeing that she found lying on a dusty shelf in the library last night while she was skimming through rows of books after books, looking for something to compensate her boredom and her bad mood. She had been reading it eversince she left the train station of Bavaria and while crossing the border of Switzerland.

She snorted and released a chuckle as the thought of Bavaria crossed her mind, catching the attention of the young couple sitting across her. Pranpriya paused from her reading and finally examined the view outside while imagining the chaos that she left at the mansion when she decided to leave without notice very early in the morning.

Pranpriya could imagine the look on the captain’s face, as well as the rest of her staff, while searching the whole mansion, scouring the many rooms of the 1926 mansion in Tutzing that her father, the King, owned, looking for her. She could imagine them scanning done the whole of the sprawling estate when they couldn’t find her inside. They would’ve rushed near the lake, with a direct access from the mansion because it was where she could be seen spending the day with her camera or a book or whiling the time and reminisced about summer or drowning herself on her own puddle of thoughts. She could imagine them looking for her around the whole town, as well, but so subtly because the captain wasn’t the type to raise the alarm, unless necessary. Besides, it was half past five in the afternoon now. Surely, the captain would’ve read her message by now.

She wasn’t running away. She just wanted a quick getaway, away from all that was binding her to who she was.

Pranpriya had gotten so bored and grumpy while stuck in the mansion (which was her own doing, really). There was nothing to do in the mansion except read or roam the villa and some secluded parts of Bavaria, with her camera. But most of the time she thought she was just spending her time doing absolutely nothing phenomenal. At least, in the kingdom, she was busy. She had duties to fulfil as a senior member of the royal court. She would attend to numerous gatherings and religious celebrations that would require her presence, representing the Kingdom.

She had been busy fulfilling her royal duties these past years that it helped her not feel things a little too intensely. But being in Tutzing had given her zero opportunities to divert her mind from wandering. Life had been a little too dreary while in Tutzing that at some point she thought it was a stupid idea to spend the holidays away from the Kingdom.

These past days she had been complaining incessantly about having nothing to do and just about everything. She was even complaining about the cold and the food, which, to be fair to the chef and the whole kitchen force, was prepared exceptionally good for her liking. Last night, she was complaining about the weather again that she thought Captain Pakpao’s ears might bleed from listening to her unnecessary whining.

“We can return to Thailand anytime you want, Your Highness,” Captain Pakpao suggested, after Pranpriya complained about the thick snow building on the window eaves in the library, as though she found it offensive that it was there. These days she could be seen frowning on things that seemed absolutely normal. She was growing impatient and quick-tempered day by day, that not even her cats (there were five of them now and she brought them all to Tutzing) could help brighten her mood.

“And then what? Spend the holidays alone in the palace again because everyone is gone for the holidays? No, thank you,” said Pranpriya.

Pranpriya decided to leave Thailand before the other royals could because it had always been the case for the last couple of years. Members of the royal court leaving their palaces early for the holidays; her mom and Marco spending the holidays together in the tropics; his Majesty retreating to the countryside and she would be left spending the holidays alone on the palace in Pathum Thani because she couldn’t decide anyway whether she wanted to join the others or not.

This year, however, His Majesty invited her to join him on the countryside and her mom and Marco had asked her to join them in Cuba. She refused both invitations, though, and decide that she could do with a liitle change of environment this year. She wanted to go to Europe for the holidays, she told them. Her mom was hesitant about the idea but eventually agreed that she probably need it. His Majesty then offered the mansion in Bavaria, saying that someone should “warm the place” because it hadn’t been occupied for months now due to his busy schedule and the people of Tutzing might start to think that he had abandoned the villa.

“You’re going to spend the holidays alone in here, too, Ma’am,” the captain reminded her.

“Yes. Thank you for reminding me that. But at least I’m spending it this year in a different environment,” Pranpriya replied and then sighed at her own predicament. She placed the glass she was holding on the table beside her after she downed its content. “I should have gone to Australia, instead. Chaeng said she’d be spending her holidays there and I’m more than welcome to visit her and her family, if I want to.”

She and Chaeng had been in constant communication eversince she left Seoul three years ago. Chaeng was filling her in about what she was missing while being away. And Jisoo, too. But not too often, because Jisoo was still crossed with her for “abandoning Jenduek and I cannot yet forgive you for that, Lisa. I don’t care if you’re a princess now. I can’t even tell you how much she’s changed after you left her and as her most loyal friend, it pains me to see her suffer and not talk about it.”

“That can be arranged, Your Highness,” said the captain, a glimpse of could be seen on her face. For she, too, would want to leave Tutzing if it was the only way for Her Highness to stop whining about everything and anything as the days went by. Besides that, she was longing to be reconnected with the sun again, even if it would have to scorching. The biting cold in this part of the world was more than enough to deplete their mood.

“Anything and anywhere can be arranged as long as it’s not in Korea, isn’t it?” Pranpriya commented boringly.

“I’m just following the King’s order, Ma’am,” the lady captain replied.

“I’m not taking that against you, Captain. But you know, sometimes I think that your loyalty to me and your loyalty to the King differ on many particular levels and I’d often wonder who are you more loyal to?”

“My loyalty lies to the crown, Ma’am. Who wears the crown is the crown, itself.”

“My father, then,” Pranpriya concluded and refilled the glass with wine.

“The Korean media is still asking Miss Kim about you and the testimony you released three years ago,” Captain Pakpao said.

Pranpriya and everyone in the palace knew it was the main reason why she was not allowed to step foot again in Korea. Never again, for as long as the Korean media was still in pursuit about Jennie and her. The King made it clear three years ago, when Pranpriya returned from her trip to Korea.

The King saw the press con, of course, and while he commended Pranpriya for her courage to speak out and clear some of the speculations surrounding her and Jennie, His Majesty thought, however, that it was reckless and unwise that she had to proclaim her intentions to Jennie like that.

“It’s the job of the palace to release such important announcements, should you ask. We have protocols to follow and I would advice you to stick to it. We cannot give any media outlets to feast on our privacy and the privacy of those around us.”

His Majesty thought that she had just given everyone the ticket to pry hers and Jennie’s private lives and thus, only gave His Majesty the perfect excuse to ban her from returning to Korea.

“Poor Jennie. I’ve put her in that situation without considering the possible consequences of my actions that might affect her directly and then vanished out of her life after that. Being a princess isn't a guarantee that I can't be an idiot” lamented Pranpriya.

“It is possible to contact Miss Kim today or any day, Ma’am. His Majesty allows that, at least.”

“And expect the royal communications department to listen and jot down every words so they have something to report to His Majesty. That’s exactly the main reason why I never attempt to contact Jennie even if I’m allowed to. Because what’s the point of calling through a private line when there isn’t any privacy at all? Anyway, I don’t think Jennie would like that – me calling her out of the blue, asking her how she was doing. She probably hates me right now. It has been three years, after all. I would too, if it was me.”

“Do you want me to locate Miss Kim for you today, Ma’am?”

It was always the conclusion to their every conversation about Jennie – the lady captain asking Pranpriya if she should locate the whereabouts of Jennie Kim. Whether it be in Jennie’s office building or at the Kim mansion, or just anywhere in the globe where Jennie was attending meetings and conferences, Pranpriya knew all about it. She was doing exactly to Jennie what her father, the King, had done to her before, when she was transiting on the different corners of the globe some years ago, pursuing her passion in photography and freedom. She had tasked the lady captain particularly on that matter because she wanted to know. She would found comfort in the fact that she knew. It made all the yearning and the guilt a little bearable, at least. But this time, she thought that it wasn’t exactly what she needed. It might, in fact, only add to her grumpy disposition.

“No, Captain. It’s enough that I know she left Korea for the holidays. Chu and her mom must have finally succeeded in convincing her to get away and take a break from work. That company is a curse. So is my title.”

Pranpriya had no idea where in the world was Jennie at, at the moment, nor would she want to find out. She decided she didn’t want to pry too much on Jennie’s whereabouts this time, telling herself that Jennie deserved a break from all the prying eyes. She kept guessing, however, that it had started to become a past-time. She would mostly do that inside the library at night by spinning the big globe in front of her, pointing her forefinger and landing it on random, to make it stop from spinning.

Hidalgo del Paral in Mexico; Crazy Mountains in Montana; Han Shui in China; Melfort in Canada; Kakogawa in Japan; Petchabun in Thailand (but that would be highly impossible, Pranpriya told herself; although a tiny ray of hope rose from her chest, but which she instantly killed); Episkopi in the island of Crete; in the Sahara; in the middle of the Baltic Sea; and last night, her finger landed on the little dot of Bolekhiv, in Ukraine. Those were some of the places on the globe – represented by tiny dots – that which her finger had landed while guessing Jennie’s location.

“Entschuldigung? Sprechen Sie Deutch?” the woman from across her coach asked if Pranpriya speaks German. She and her male companion, her husband most definitely (Pranpriya noticed the identical wedding bands on their fingers) were looking at her with identical curiosity. The woman had a strong accent and a pair of striking blue eyes.

“Ja.” Pranpriya nodded but did not want to elaborate that she spoke it fluently and instead added, “But only a little.”

“Ah. American?” the woman asked in a very friendly tone now.

“No. Thai,” Pranpriya replied and wondered at the back of her mind how the woman would react if she’d told them who she really was or would that even matter to them.

The woman nodded. “I’m sorry I asked. I’ve been telling my husband here that you look quite familiar. I thought you’re someone I saw on TV or something. You’re not a celebrity, are you?” she asked jokingly.

Pranpriya chuckled and shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she said while thinking about all the media footages about her and hoping that the woman hadn’t seen all of that. “And it’s okay. I could use a little conversation, anyway,” said Pranpriya and she meant that. It had been days since she last had a human interaction other than her staff inside the mansion and the couple striking a conversation with her now was more than welcoming.

“Are you a student?” the woman asked while pointing at the book that Pranpriya was holding.

“You can say that,” Pranpriya replied with a smile.

“Photography or German History?” the husband asked, joining in the conversation. He noticed the subtitle of the book she was reading, apparently.

“Both, I guess. I’m interested in photography,” Pranpriya replied.

The couple nodded. “Is this your first time in Switzerland? Are you alone? You can join us, if you’d like,” the woman said.

“Thanks, but I think I’d like to do some exploring alone. I hope you don’t mind, though?”

“No, not at all. It is also best to discover the place by yourself. So, where are you heading then?”

“Chur,” Pranpriya replied. She had been to Switzerland several times before with Marco and her mom when she was younger, but she had never visited the oldest town.

“Ah. Attending the Christkindlimarkt, then? That one’s fabulous. I hope you’ll enjoy it,” the woman smiled warmly.

....

Chur was a car-free town and Jennie had to drag her suitcases from her hotel towards the train station on foot. The friendly spinster from the wine store across the hotel said she was a bit disappointed to see Jennie leaving right on the day of the Christkindlimarkt. Jennie apologized and said that it was urgent for her to leave at once, without further elaborating the reason and was internally grateful that the woman did not inquire further, too, because Jennie didn’t know how to exactly explain why she wanted to leave urgently without looking a little too pathetic in front of stranger.

The last train would leave at six thirty and she was already waiting on the platform after she purchased a ticket half an hour earlier. While waiting for her train, Jennie decided to take out her camera. She still had a couple of rolls left and so she started taking photos after photos.

Of the railway. The gray winter sky. The people. Her suitcases with the Alps as the backdrop. Of the approaching train and the throngs of people coming out from the wagons. And then the world seemed to stop from turning. Her knees suddenly lost their will to keep her steady that she felt like fainting despite her heart beating furiously and painfully against her chest.

There was no mistaking the doe eyes and the slightly upturned nose. There was no mistaking the short, dark hair under the dark bonnet and the plump lips. There was no mistaking the height and the slender shoulders. There was no mistaking the gloomy look on that beautiful face, as thought the world had done her wrong.

It was Lisa wrapped in thick winter clothes and a black knapsack strapped on her back, caught on her frame.

And just when Jennie was about to click the shutter, Lisa looked her way.

There was no mistaking the look of genuine surprise on Lisa’s eyes and the way her lips curved and broke into a grin that reminded Jennie of that night at Irene’s party, three years ago.

Finally, Jennie thought as she smiled her gummy smile and clicked the shutter right away.

The End