Chapter Text
“The Crown Prince is born!”
Pacing back and forth outside the chamber of the Queen Consort is the present King of the Joseon. Higher ranking royal guards were rounded by the Minister of Defense early that morning to protect the Queen from possible intruders while she was in labor. There are guards outside, safeguarding the perimeter of the Queen’s room, while some are stationed at the corridor leading to the chamber. The Queen is heavily guarded more than usual.
Accompanying the King is his most-trusted advisor, the Chief State Councillor, an official who occupies one of the three highest-ranking posts in the concurrent government. The rest of the officials assume normal day-to-day activities, covering for the King as he attends to the most important day in the history of his reign.
Pleasantly surprised by the good news coming straight from their family physician, one who is next in line to succeed the current Minister of Health upon retirement due to old age, the King halts in his tracks, demanding the royal guards to step aside and clear the area by the entryway. They heard of the physician’s declaration from the outside. However, the doors are still locked and yet to be opened. The King’s excitement could not be hidden as the sound of his newborn’s cries echo inside the room.
After some time, the two panel oak door creaks and swings open, revealing the physician and one of his female assistants. “A boy, my King. The Queen gave birth to a prince.” After delivering the news in person, the two move aside, clearing a path for the King to make his way towards his Queen and his newborn, the Crown Prince. He is smiling ear-to-ear when the sound of the Prince’s loud cries continue to echo in the vast chamber. The Queen is in her bed, in a half-sitting position with her back against the wooden headboard whilst carrying the crying Prince in her arms as if she did not labor for hours and delivered.
“My Queen,” The King calls as he sits on the side of her bed to stare at his young one, the official heir to his throne. “Have you thought of a name?”
“From now on, he is Kwon Soonyoung.” After half a decade of trying, the Queen’s prayers have finally been answered. “Crown Prince Kwon Soonyoung, your legitimate successor, my King, the one who will lead this nation to glory after your reign.”
“Kwon Soonyoung,” The voice lingers. “Such a beautiful name.”
-
The birth of Kwon Soonyoung has stirred the tides in the palace. All the attention given to Yoon Jeonghan, born of the King and a concubine, shifted to the newborn Prince. Only nine months older than the Crown Prince, Yoon Jeonghan, according to the rumors spread upon his birth, would have been upheld as the Crown Prince, regardless of being an illegitimate son, if the Queen could not fulfill her duty. Doubts arose about the Queen’s health, making the King worry that their marriage would stay barren. In order to ensure a birth of an heir and a future leader of their nation, the King requested all noble families to send in their unmarried daughters from which he would choose one from to bear his child. Through this approach, Yoon Jeonghan came to the world.
The Queen was initially against the King’s order, but the absence of a rightful heir will affect the whole nation. She had no other choice but to accede. A Queen is selfless and so she should be. Her constituents come first, her well-being only of secondary importance.
Although the Queen was found to be carrying a month prior to Yoon Jeonghan’s birth, she could not be complacent as there was no way of knowing if she was pregnant with a boy. Had she given birth to a princess, the concubine who grew up from a less noble family than hers would have risen to prominence. After all, anyone who gives the King a son is highly-favored.
Yoon Jeonghan’s birth has proven to be meaningless. Inconsequential as it is, Yoon Jeonghan will still be treated with the same respect as though he is legitimate, following the King’s decree. He will be allowed to enter the main palace once he stops needing constant care from his biological mother and be provided quality education befitting of a royalty.
He is, after all, still the son of the King. His real first-born.
-
“I heard your spouse gave birth to a boy, Councillor Jeon.” The King called the Councillor to his den after he heard of such news. “Congratulations are in order, I believe.”
The Councillor offers a bow with a hand on his left chest. “Thank you, my King. The Queen is on her way to visit my spouse with fruits. I saw her coming out of the main palace on my way here.”
With a proud smile on the King’s face, he asks the Councillor, Jeon Tae-soo, to sit down, handing him the scrolls with his stamp of approval. A new decree has been passed, that every year thereafter, the kingdom is to honor the Crown Prince’s birth like a national celebration. “What is the boy’s name, Councillor Jeon?”
“Jeon Wonwoo, my King. My first born.”
Jeon Wonwoo was born the same year as the Crown Prince, only a month apart, the Prince being the older one. His birth further solidified their alliance as he is promised to serve the Crown Prince as his council with utmost faithfulness, like his father is to the present King, when his time to rule the nation comes. Had he been born the opposite sex, an entirely different arrangement would have been in order. Instead of a council, he would’ve been the Crown Prince’s betrothed, to proudly stand by the Crown Prince’s side as his consort, as his support.
He is born with nobility—his family having faithfully served the predecessor Kings, from Kwon Soonyoung’s great grandfather to his father. They were awarded a vast land in the East of the kingdom and a magnificent title to their names, worthy of their unwavering loyalty to the kingdom they pledge their allegiance to.
As the two are bound by a promise set in stone, once they grow older, Wonwoo would be at the Crown Prince’s beck and call. The King arranged for Wonwoo to live in the main palace with Soonyoung by the time he reaches the age of seven, having a room next to him, and be educated along with him. To better serve the Crown Prince once the title of King passes on to him, Wonwoo should boast of the same versatility as his monarch with an acumen of a prominent political figure who is destined to run a whole nation.
“I have high hopes for your son, Councillor Jeon.”
-
Yoon Jeonghan is to be sent to the main palace after he turns seven. It is a custom in their kingdom for formal education to start as early as age six or seven. He will be assigned a private tutor after school hours, but will join a class composed of children his age born from wealthy families during the day. He will be taught the concepts of language, mathematics, science, politics, economics, and a lot more, but the most important of all—manners. In no time, he will be attending royal events and ceremonies along with the King, the Queen, and his younger brothers, the Crown Prince and the Second Prince—he will need to learn royal etiquette appropriate for formal occasions.
Exactly a day after his seventh birthday, his birth mother accompanied him to the main palace. Greeted by people he has seen for the first time in his life, as it has always been his mother and him, young Yoon Jeonghan’s first instinct is to hide behind his mother’s legs. There is an entire entourage welcoming his arrival—the royal guards lined up at each side and servants carrying his belongings.
“Mother, who are they?” Jeonghan asks, holding onto his mother’s skirt, clutching the fabric tightly with his tiny hands. “Are you going to leave me here, mother?” It is his first time stepping foot inside the main palace, having spent seven years of his life within the palace grounds, but somehow, far away from central grounds where the main is located.
His mother squats down to reach his height, holding his hand to press a kiss on the back of his palm. “Remember what I told you before, Jeonghan? Make mother proud. You have to make me proud. If you do great at whatever they make you do, my son, maybe the King will be kind enough to let me stay here with you.” He could only nod, believing his mother’s words. Jeonghan, my son, I am your only ally. Trust no one but me are the last words his mother whispered into his ears before urging him to move forward and leave her behind. But later, he will learn that those words bear no truth in it.
“I shall take my leave, my son. Be good for me.”
Jeonghan did not cry. Instead, he tried to be a good son like his mother had told him before he was abandoned at the entrance of the central palace. The servants led the way and he followed them obediently, running his curious eyes around the vast expanse of the palace, fascinated by the intricate designs of the ceiling, the fine china displays at each corner, and the paintings hanging on the wall. Everything about it seems dignified and aristocratic, a complete contrast to the place that served as Jeonghan’s home for the past seven years.
They arrive at the throne room after walking the long hallway.
“Your Highness, my King and Queen,” Jeonghan has been taught by his mother to treat the royals with respect, especially the King and Queen. In response to how he heard the servant addressing the people in front of him, Jeonghan offered a deep bow, not making eye contact until he was instructed by the King to hold his head up high. “I will be taking Prince Jeonghan’s belongings to his room. Please excuse me.”
The servant bows before departing from the room, leaving young Jeonghan more confused than he originally is. “P-Prince…?”
The one whom the servant called ‘my King’ stands up, taking careful steps to come down from the throne, moving alarmingly closer to him. Jeonghan takes a step back, taking a defensive stance. “Has your mother not told you, Jeonghan? You are a Prince—my eldest son.” The tension eases up—he brings his hands away from his chest, placing them at each side.
“Father… you are my father?” Whenever he asked his mother about his father’s whereabouts, he was only told that he is alive, that he would meet him when the right time comes, that his father longs for him just as much as he does. His father is the King? “How is it possible, Your Highness? You have a Queen.”
“You are still too young to understand, my son.” The King extends his hand to him, Jeonghan still in deep thought. He cannot wrap his seven year old mind with the sudden influx of information unraveling one at a time before him. “You need not dwell on the complexities, Jeonghan. Just remember you are my son, a prince, and older brother to your younger brothers.”
“I—an older brother?” Shocked by the revelation, Jeonghan furrows his brows, forehead lines appearing, a manifestation of how perplexed he is. “I have brothers?”
“Yes, my son. They are sleeping in their quarters right now, but I will let you meet them once they wake up.”
“What are their names, father?”
“Soonyoung and Jungchan.”
The first time Jeonghan is introduced to his younger brothers is a few hours after his arrival. He stayed in his room for the most part, waiting to be called by the attendants assigned to him by his father—his bedroom twice the size of his old room. His bed could fit three people at most which meant he could roll around while in his sleep without the dangers of falling. The material is made of silk and it does not need an expert to see that it was an expensive kind. By the window is his study table—his mom did mention in passing that he will be receiving proper education by the age of seven.
He hears a knock at his door, prompting him to get off from his bed. “Come in.” He tidies his hanbok, slipping his feet inside the pair of shoes by his bed. It is a new pair, a welcoming gift from his father. Although he was told to throw away his old pair, he refused, saying it was a recent purchase by his mother. The door slides open, a female aide bowing before him comes into view. “Is it time to meet my brothers?”
“Yes, Prince Jeonghan.” Jeonghan is still not used to the title, but it’s nothing he is conscious of. It just feels strange being just Jeonghan yesterday and today, a royal prince. “Crown Prince Kwon Soonyoung and Prince Jungchan are in the Great Hall. Dinner will be served in a short while. Please follow me, my prince.”
“Prince Jeonghan has arrived.”
Apart from the King and Queen he had encountered earlier that day, there are two more people in the Great Hall—his brothers; one, probably a year or two younger than him, and the other, an innocent child on his mother’s lap. His father had mentioned their names, but Jeonghan has no idea who is who between the two. Only when the older child responded to the name Soonyoung did he finally figure out that the child in the Queen’s arms is Jungchan.
“Sit beside me, Jeonghan hyung.” Soonyoung tells him, pulling out the chair beside his own so he could sit. It is an adorable sight, to see his little brother trying to move a fixture double his size. Soonyoung stares at him with his wide smile, reddish cheeks in full display akin to a peach his mother had brought for him that one time. Once he is seated, Soonyoung also settles down on his chair, giving him a piece of meat that he had cut messily on his own. Despite being a prince, the King and Queen seem to have taught his little brother how to eat on his own. No servants are on standby to help him with his meal.
“Jungchan is our youngest brother, Jeonghan hyung. He is sleeping all the time so I have no one to play with.” Jeonghan has never been called a hyung before all of this, but it feels nice, finding Soonyoung to be an adorable, little child. “I have you now, hyung. You will play with little Soonyoungie, right?”
“I did not have a brother not until I was told about you and Prince Jungchan, my Crown Prince.” Jeonghan, at his young age of seven, knows the weight of the title his little brother bears—as far as he was told by his mother, it is the Crown Prince who will replace the King someday, which means his little brother should be regarded in high esteem. Knowing all of these, he cannot simply bring himself to call the Crown Prince with his first name.
Jeonghan smiles for the first time that day.
“Of course, I will play with you, my Crown Prince.”
After supper had ended, Soonyoung led him to his room. The Crown Prince’s room is almost identical to his, only the shade of the silk material of his bedding and the curtain draping by the window are different. His is the shade of the sky, while Soonyoung’s own is the shade of a lilac. Soonyoung would not let him go, telling him stories starting from the oldest one he remembered—like how he plays with the royal guards assigned to him because he had no one to horse around with or that Jungchan is too young to even hold a kite or let alone a wooden chopstick. He is an enthusiastic and bright kid, and Jeonghan honestly enjoyed the time they spent together that night.
There are more days to come, a lot more to get to know his brothers.
Eventually, he would head back to his room, tucking Soonyoung in his bed before placing a soft kiss on his younger brother’s forehead.
“Good night, my Crown Prince.”
Although only months apart in age, born of different years, Jeonghan has this urge to protect Soonyoung. He adores Soonyoung and swears that he will not allow anyone take his brother’s smile away. The same goes for Jungchan, his youngest brother. Whenever he misses his old home, he would remind himself that he would not have chanced upon his lovely brothers if he refused to stay at his current home.
Meeting Soonyoung and Jungchan is one of the best things that has ever happened to his life.
-
It is customary to mark an occasion as important as the Crown Prince’s seventh birthday celebration with a festivity as grand and momentous as The Coronation. It is one of the most celebrated birthdays of the Crown Prince as this signifies a milestone in his growth—the start of his formal education, the first step he must take to prepare himself for a position of responsibility he must undertake in the future. While the kingdom commemorates the Crown Prince’s birth annually, to observe the legislation passed seven years ago, the preparation for this year required more manpower and budget. Today’s event is on a different scale compared to the prior years.
There will be a show at the plaza promoting an array of talents from dancers performing a classical dance and talented singers showcasing their dramatical story-telling through Pansori. Although Soonyoung is not allowed to go out of the vicinity of the palace, he could hear the music coming from the plaza square.
“I wish I could go out and watch the performances, hyung.” Soonyoung sighs disappointedly, staring at the view from his opened window with a hand on his chin. His hyung came to check on him, if he had already worn his especially-customized hanbok, adorned with pearls sewn at the cuffs and carefully-embroidered patterns. “I want to sing! To dance!” Soonyoung stands up, twirling around in his room, leaping, and then falling on the floor with a laugh after losing his balance.
“Careful, my Crown Prince. The Queen will call for us any minute now.” Jeonghan comes up to him, helping him stand up, and looks at him from head to toe. “You nearly ruined your attire, my prince. The Queen will admonish us if you appear unruly in front of your honored guests.” Jeonghan gently wipes off the sweat from his face with a clean piece of cloth. “The councils and ministers will be there, my prince. You have to be on your best behavior.” Soonyoung is only seven, but he knows his indoor birthday party will be boring. He would rather sneak out of the palace and flee to sing and dance along with everyone at the plaza. However, considering the strict security of the surrounding, it is impossible to make it past the royal guards without getting caught. “You do not want the King to scold you, do you?”
“But I heard the servants whispering how colorful the entire market stretch is, hyung! I want to see it for myself!” He has only heard of stories from his servants, from the royal guards, and he could only imagine how lively it must be outside of the palace. The Queen, his Mother, would always bring home a souvenir for him from every place she visits, whether her journey is for leisure or for diplomatic purposes. Soonyoung envies his Mother—hoping the day he is allowed to stroll outside comes. “They celebrate my birth, yet I am not allowed to mingle with them?”
“You will see it someday, my prince.” From what he knows, his Jeonghan hyung had gone out of the premises when he paid his maternal grandparents a visit at the neighboring town. When he came home from the short trip, his Jeonghan hyung gave him a necklace he bought from a magnanimous merchant who gave him a discount. Soonyoung has been wearing the necklace ever since. “And it will be worth the long wait.”
“Will you be by my side then, hyung?”
“Always, my prince.”
-
Wonwoo cannot seem to enjoy his birthday this year.
His mother even went as far as inviting two of his closest cousins, Lee Jihoon and Lee Seokmin, and two of his closest friends, Choi Seungcheol and Kim Mingyu, but Wonwoo is only watching them play a game of endless tag from a distance, giggling and panting as they run around tirelessly. The four of them tried to convince him to partake in the game, but he refused, making up an excuse about how he is feeling unwell. Now sitting at the perron in front of their main entrance, he feels a looming presence from behind, the figure behind him casting a tall shadow angling to his right. “Can I join you, my Wonwoo?”
“M-mother,” He stammers, surprised by the unexpected presence of his mother. She was inside their home entertaining the adults—his cousins and his friends’ parents—just a few moments ago. “Are you done talking with Aunt Jihee?” It is not his intention to make his mother fret over him, but it is proving to be rather difficult to hide his misery—brooding over a plethora of unfounded concerns for the past few nights. He only has a week left to spend with his family before he is transferred to the main palace to begin his training, the same thing his father underwent when he was of the same age. Seungcheol and Mingyu have moved in last week, and they seem fine, without a hint of worries in their faces. “Where is Soyeon? Is she still napping?”
“She woke up just now and your Aunt Jihee is feeding her rice cake.” Wonwoo could not help but to smile, remembering how his little sister gushed about their mother’s delicious homemade dessert. She would have her face stuffed with rice cakes, cheeks round as a rice ball the size of her first. “Why don’t you play with them?”
“I am worried, mother.” He admits, his shoulders dropping. He is only but a child, and yet they are telling him to be a friend, an aide to the future King. He doesn’t even know what the Crown Prince is like. Is he dependable and assertive like Seungcheol is? Or affable like Mingyu and Seokmin are? Or serious yet caring like his cousin Jihoon is?
“Your father speaks highly of the Crown Prince and his brothers, my Wonwoo.” It was at the beginning of the year when his father broke the news to him. The King beseeches your presence in the main palace, son. “I am sure the King will look at you dearly—like a family.” He inquired about the King’s demeanor from Seungcheol and Mingyu and the two have nothing but high praises for their leader. “The King and your father share a bond forged by your ascendants, Wonwoo. They hope that you and the Crown Prince will continue on that legacy.” Speaking to a seven-year old about legacy when he can’t even deal with numbers without relying on his fingers to count? He doesn’t even fully understand what legacy means, although his father would usually bring it up during dinner table conversations. “You will understand it someday, my son.”
“I will miss Soyeon, mother.” His mother places a hand on his shoulder, the other on his back, running gentle circles. Soyeon is his little sister, four years apart in age. He fears that little Soyeon will forget about him, to grow up without a memory of her older brother by her side. “I will miss her calling for me at night when she can’t fall asleep.”
Her mother coos at him ever so fondly, enveloping him in a tight embrace, squeezing him until he complains to which his mother dismisses with a teasing chuckle. “What a fine gentleman you are, my son.”
“I owe it all to you and Father.” His mother boops his nose, playfully messing his hair up. Such a sweet-talker! His mother exclaims in a jest.
“Don’t worry about us, my Wonwoo. We can always pay you a visit. I’ll make sure to bring Soyeon with me—I promise.” Their family currently lives within the palace square, although his mother told him she used to live outside, in a house erected on land bequeathed to his father’s ancestors by the former King. It was before he was born, but after his mother and father were wedded. However, at the order of the current King, all the spouses of his officials were relocated in the palace square to ensure their safety. Officials working for the monarch are often the subject of scrutiny. They have enemies, especially those who oppose the King. “Are you feeling better now, Wonwoo?”
“I am, mother. Thank you.”
“Then go play with your cousins and friends.”
Wonwoo shows his mother a smile and stands up, dusting his pants, then running towards the field with all his might. “Seungcheol, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seokmin! Let me join! I’ll be the tagger this round!”
“Finally! The birthday boy!”
Everyone exclaims in unison.
-
“Have you secured all your belongings, son?”
“Yes, Father. I have loaded them on the wagon.” Wonwoo takes cursory glances at Soyeon who is watching him, leaning on the frame of his door, hugging the makeshift doll he made with his mom last night. Wonwoo says it is his proxy. If you can’t sleep at night, little Soyeon, think of this toy as me. Wonwoo motions for her to come inside, and Soyeon shies away at first, but their mother takes her hand and enters the room with her. At her own pace, they walk slowly, small strides until they reach him.
Soyeon hands him a brooch after rummaging in her pocket. “For you, Wonwoo oppa.” He lets her place the brooch on his palm, saying his gratitude. “For you to remember little Soyeonie.”
“Soyeon picked that one for you, Wonwoo.” It tugs his heart to have a sweet, little sister like her. “Didn’t you, Soyeonie?”
“Uh-huh,” Soyeon replies, bobbing her head up and down like the figurine displays they have that had moving heads and hands. “Oppa likes it, right?”
“I love it, little Soyeon.”
When it is finally time to say his goodbye, as much as he dreads to bid his temporary farewell, Wonwoo gives his mother and sister a tight hug. It hurts him to witness his little sister sob, sniffling loudly as she rubs her nose, as she refuses to break off their embrace. “I have to leave, little Soyeon. I will always come back on your birthday with a gift, I promise. Be a good daughter for mother and father, alright?”
She only hums in response, wiping her teary eyes and moist cheeks with sleeves of her hanbok.
He mounts the wagon as his father settles on the saddle of their horse, controlling it by bridging its rein, directing the horse to move forward. Wonwoo waves his hand above his head, a lopsided smile plastered on his face as he notices his sister crying even harder. “Your sister will be fine, Wonwoo. Look straight ahead—you won’t feel as bad that way.”
As suggested by his father, he focuses his gaze on the pathway in front of them. Without seeing his little sister’s somber expression, it doesn’t hurt as much. Looking back from a greater distance, as they travel farther away, the figures become smaller until they disappear entirely.
“My work is at the central palace. You will see me from time to time.” His father controls the speed of the galloping horse, Wonwoo holding tight as he almost stumbles on the floor of the wagon. “You are not alone there. I will always have your back.”
“That is reassuring, father.”
-
Soonyoung is lounging in his older brother’s room, waiting for a friend to arrive—someone the King mentioned over dinner last night. The King informed him about him some time, probably a few months back, but it didn’t cross his mind until their supper the night before.
“What is his name again, Jeonghan hyung?” He gets up from his lying position in a haste to face his older brother. “Is it Won-nyu? Wun-nyu? That doesn’t sound correct.” He pouts, racking his brain to remember the name of the supposed friend coming anytime within the day. Naturally, he doesn’t want to upset this friend, otherwise it would certainly cause a rift between them. “Please tell me you remember his name, Jeonghan hyung!” He cries, desperately, chin resting on his older brother’s shoulder as he continues on with the book he’s reading.
“It’s Jeon Wonwoo, Your Highness.”
“Ah! Wonwoo! Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo.” He repeats it in his head a few more times, making sure he won’t make an embarrassment of himself later.
“Crown Prince, Prince Jeonghan,” The servant calls for their name from the other side of the door after announcing her arrival by knocking. “Your Highness, the King and Queen, are requesting your presence in the reception room.” Soonyoung and Jeonghan stare at each other for a while before responding that they will head to the room together, after his older brother finishes the last stroke in his calligraphy task.
After they arrive in the reception room, two servants come in with rucksacks in their hands—must be Jeon Wonwoo’s belongings brought from his home. “The guest has arrived, Your Highness.” A boy, probably only a head taller than him, makes his way to the front, offering a full bow, paying homage to the royal family as distinguished individuals, before straightening his back to introduce himself.
“Your Highness, I was sent here by Chief State Councillor Jeon in compliance with your request.” Soonyoung has seen the Chief State Councillor far too many times to recognize that the boy in front of them is a spitting image of his father. A spectacle of a young man. There is no reason to deny that Councillor Jeon and the young Jeon presenting himself with dignity are related. “I am Jeon Wonwoo, the only son of the Chief State Councillor.”
“And here is—”
“Allow me to introduce myself, Father.” He knows his mother will berate him for interrupting his father’s speech, but if a young child like Jeon Wonwoo was able to present himself without the help of an adult, then he can as well.
“Soonyoung—” As expected, his Mother rushes in to scold him.
“Let him, My Queen. Our son is old enough to speak for himself.” The Queen retreats, pulling Jungchan closer to her while Jeonghan only observes at the side, seemingly staring at Wonwoo with skepticism. It has only been a year since his older brother started living with them, but he finds himself under his care, his protection. “Go on, my child. Introduce yourself to Wonwoo.”
Soonyoung offers Wonwoo the same respect, bending forward with his hands on his side. He silently counts from one to three in his head before returning to an upright position, lips stretched wide, smiling. He turns to the King and Queen and they nod back at him, acknowledging his efforts in perfecting his bow. “I am the Crown Prince, the second son of the King and the next-in-line to the throne. My name is Kwon Soonyoung and I’ll be in your care from here on.”
“Likewise, Your Highness.”
-
Awkward—the best word to describe Wonwoo’s first week at the main palace. Everything seemed to be new in Wonwoo’s eyes and Soonyoung was kind enough to show Wonwoo around and divulge what irks the King and the Queen. In secrecy, he told Wonwoo about Jeonghan’s background, the reason behind him being a Yoon instead of a Kwon like him and Jungchan, so he didn’t have to ask Jeonghan and potentially offend him in the process. Of course, he did not miss the opportunity to talk more about himself—his likes, his dislikes, and almost anything he could and was allowed to share. Soonyoung noticed Wonwoo’s reservation, but ignored them nevertheless. A week may not have been enough of a time for Wonwoo to open up and get familiar with him.
Although that is the case for Wonwoo, it did not take so long for Soonyoung to get comfortable around Wonwoo. Roughly a month after their first meeting, Soonyoung is already sneaking to his room every night after the Queen has returned to her chamber after tucking him in his bed. He would climb up Wonwoo’s bed, asking his friend to scoot to the side to make space for him, only to make a mess out of his friend’s mattress. He would roll around, bounce up and down, only stopping when he heard a creaking sound coming from the wooden material of the bed.
Now at eleven years of age, Soonyoung has never outgrown his habit of visiting Wonwoo before he heads to sleep.
“You turn into a completely different person when the King and Queen are not around, Your Highness,” Wonwoo comments before pulling the sheets to cover himself. “They will be surprised to know that you are in connivance with the royal guards outside our chambers. You should not be in here—it is way past your—our,” Soonyoung bursts out laughing, thinking that his same aged friend is so uptight, only to be hushed to silence by Wonwoo, holding up an index finger to his lips, eyebrows automatically furrowing. “…our bedtime, Your Highness. You should go back to your room or else,”
“Else what, my friend?” Wonwoo is Soonyoung’s source of entertainment—noting every notable change in Wonwoo’s expression whenever he does something unsuitable for a prince like picking his nose, sneezing without covering his nose, or when he dances funnily after solving his arithmetic homework.
“Else we will be late for our horse-riding lessons tomorrow and you know so well that my Father, our teacher, hates when we show up late.” Soonyoung loves to ride horses, and when he was allowed to choose one from the stable as a gift for his seventh birthday, he chose the horse at the far end without thinking twice. The stablehand could not believe his decision, but the worker still led him to the horse of his choice. Apparently, it was a sickly horse, the runt of the litter as they call it. The fact disclosed to him did not deter him at all. And now, once called the runt is now a healthy, magnificently ivory horse.
“My savior!” Soonyoung exclaims happily, cuddling Wonwoo even more as he feels his friend retaliating to break away from his hold. “I shall take a rest and see you tomorrow morning at breakfast, Wonwoo. Good night,” He gets off Wonwoo’s bed and grins at Wonwoo, earning an eye roll from his friend, but he knows not to dwell on it. He thinks Wonwoo only pretends not to like him, but actually cares for him in his own way. “I said good night, Wonwoo.”
“Good night, Your Highness.” Finally! Albeit, Soonyoung thinks Wonwoo can work on his tone. There is still time to learn. Let’s take it slow, Wonwoo-yah. Wonwoo immediately turns his back against him after saying the words he wanted to hear. Every night he would sneak out to go to Wonwoo’s room, he only had one goal in mind—to have Wonwoo say good night back. And every night, he would return to his room triumphant.
“My win, Wonwoo.”
-
Unlike Jeonghan whose class consisted of children from affluent families, in a school outside the palace, Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s arrangement are a little bit different. To protect the identity of Soonyoung and keep the secret under wraps, well within the perimeter of the palace square, they are only enjoined by a few chosen ones—Choi Seungcheol, son of the royal family physician, Kim Mingyu, son of the Minister of Education, and Jeon Wonwoo, son of the Chief State Councillor. But for extracurricular activities like archery, horse riding, and calligraphy, Soonyoung requested to have him and Wonwoo in a separate class from Seungcheol and Mingyu.
Soonyoung finds Seungcheol frightening, saying his thick eyebrows add a flair to his already dominating presence. Mingyu, on the other hand, is like a nemesis. They would often find themselves in a childish squabble. So as to keep his sanity in check, Soonyoung made a request to the King.
Similar to Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Mingyu are groomed to succeed the three highest posts in the government—the Councillors. As much as the King is an important figure in the government, the Councillors also play a crucial role in running the State.
It is as if their futures have already been pre arranged for them.
-
For the first time in twelve years, Soonyoung has finally gained permission to leave the palace square and roam around the capital from the King and Queen. It is a part of his learning experience, an excursion of some sort. While this is nothing new to Wonwoo, having been allowed to explore once every month, this is out of Soonyoung’s expertise, an uncharted territory. Not once has he stepped foot outside the perimeter of the square.
“Your Highness,” Wonwoo whispers, almost inaudibly, tugging his body closer, their shoulders bumping. There are a lot of people in the market today, the street is packed with merchants and customers alike, indistinct chatter from haggling customers attributing to the noise. Behind them are royal guards, although in disguise as to not grab attention from the locals, as assigned by the King. Soonyoung and Wonwoo were also dressed up like a commoner to blend in with the crowd. “Keep close to me.”
“Either don’t talk to me in public or call me by my first name,” He warns the other, groaning loudly as the crowd pushes them before they can even take a step on their own. Although his birthday was made an event celebrated nationwide, his identity—his name and face—will only be made known to their constituents once he reaches adulthood, when he turns twenty-one. “Why did we even choose to go out today, of all days?” He has dreamt for this day to come, but he couldn’t even appreciate the market stretch that his older brother would often brag to him about when they’re together. It didn’t look as exhilarating as the one in his older brother’s stories. If anything, the surge of crowd is causing him to be somewhat distressed, not used to such an overwhelming number of people.
“Let’s move to the sides,” He could only nod as he got dragged by Wonwoo to the sides—a small, vertical space behind the line of merchants—before he could understand what was happening. “Is there anything you want to purchase?”
“I couldn’t really take a good look at the goods,” Disappointment is evident in the tone of his voice, sighing as he stares at the crowd from the sides, from behind the line of merchants. “How about you, Wonwoo? Anything that caught your eye?”
“A hairpiece for my little sister. She is going to celebrate her eighth in a month.” Soonyoung has heard of her name, but for the past five years that he knows Wonwoo, there is no chance for him and his sister to meet. Whenever they come to the main palace to visit Wonwoo, he is too busy elsewhere and they don’t stay for too long. So, he knows of her name, but could not really put a face to it. Does she bear a semblance to Wonwoo? In that case, she would be more like their father. Does she look more like their mother? He doesn’t really know what Wonwoo’s mother looks like. Thinking about it, Wonwoo knows every member of his family, but the same couldn’t be said the other way around. A mischievous thought forms in his mind—he should tag along when Wonwoo goes back to his home whether Wonwoo likes it or not.
“Then, I’ll buy something for her too!” He declares chirpily, trying to make the most out of this seemingly unfortunate day for his first ever excursion. He taps the shoulder of one of the merchants in front of them. “May I take a look at one of your finest pieces of hairpins, good sir?” It didn’t take long for Soonyoung to choose one, the jade hairpin at the center of the table mesmerized him the moment he laid his eyes on it. “That one, good sir,” He says joyfully, pointing at his pick. “How much would that be?”
“Two silver coins, young man.”
He inserts his hand in his silk pouch, grabbing three silver coins, handing it to the merchant with delight. “Here, good sir. Three silver coins. The other one is a tip, good sir.”
“Your—I mean,” Wonwoo was one word away from addressing him by his title. They make eye contact, Wonwoo immediately pursing his lips. Soonyoung is waiting for Wonwoo to call him by his name. This is a good chance! “My friend,” Oh, a pity! What a missed opportunity! He frowns, with pouted lips and glaring eyes, giving him a meaningful look. “You cannot give your money out that easily.”
“Apparently,” He pinches Wonwoo’s side and snickers as Wonwoo’s expression shifts to annoyance. “I can and I will. Now, choose a gift to give to your sister.” The merchant hands the jade hairpin wrapped with a cloth over to him, then suggests the jewelry box with a mirror on the other side of its cover.
“Then I’ll get that one, good sir.” Wonwoo tells the merchant to wrap it nicely as it is a present to his sister, trading his two bronze coins for the jewelry box he purchased. The merchant gives his gratitude before attending to the customer inquiring about the pearl earrings. “Should we head back now? I don’t think it is wise to roam around in this crowd. Your father will behead me if you get lost.”
“That is an exaggeration, Wonwoo! If anything,” Soonyoung peeks behind his back before leaning in close to Wonwoo, lips close to Wonwoo’s ears. “They will be the first ones to feel the wrath of my father.” Joking around the royal guards, but Wonwoo doesn’t seem like he is fazed by his attempt to make him laugh.
“That is not funny, Your—” Wonwoo immediately covers his mouth, looking to his left and right suspiciously.
“Is it so hard to pronounce my name, Wonwoo?”
“No, but I—nevermind. It’s not like you will ever get it.” Wonwoo replies to him, shaking his head, looking pensive.
“I’ll make you say my name someday, Wonwoo. Remember that!”
Wonwoo scoffs at him in his response, but Soonyoung isn’t the type to give up.
“I’m taking that as a challenge, Wonwoo!”
-
“Your Highness!”
Wonwoo comes running the moment he sees the Crown Prince attempting to ride on his horse, an ebony horse personally handpicked as a gift from the King. It has been his companion since his first horse riding lessons. Worried that it may drop the Crown Prince to the ground due to unfamiliarity, he hurriedly raced to stop the Crown Prince. His horse could be very sensitive at times, only acting tame and meek around him. “What were you trying to do, Your Highness?”
“I ought to bring my horse, but he is scheduled to have his horseshoes replaced today.” There is a mischievous glint in the Crown Prince’s eyes and Wonwoo could not figure out what is running in his mind. The Crown Prince, as formal as he is around other people especially the government officials, removes his mask off around him. His whimsical side comes out and Wonwoo is always having a hard time trying to go along with him because there is an obvious disparity between their energy levels. However, despite the difficulty to match the Crown Prince’s playful waggeries, he admits that there is not a dull day if he is together with him. At the end of the day, he finds himself laughing along with the Crown Prince’s buffoonery.
“And where are you going, Your Highness?” He asks, raising a brow as he tends to his horse, running a gentle hand on its side to relax it before he mounts on it for a ride on his way home. If the Crown Prince has anything scheduled for today, the King would have certainly notified him beforehand and ask him to cancel his plans so he could be of company. Something isn’t right. Why is he having a bad feeling about this?
“I bought a birthday present for your little sister last time, didn’t I?” The Crown Prince replies, fanning his long eyelashes cutely. Oh, good heavens! “I asked permission from the King to join you today.” It is not like he didn’t want the Crown Prince around—he only worries about how they may not have prepared enough to welcome a regal presence in their humble abode. “The King was not opposed to the idea, but reminded me to be home before the sun sets.”
“Well,” He can’t really oppose it if the King agreed to it. Anything the King says, in the words of his father, is absolute in effect. He could only swallow the lump in his throat, hoping everything served in their table later would be of the Crown Prince’s liking. But then again, Soonyoung never complained about the food served before him. Not once. He could foresee his mother nagging at him from where the prince wouldn’t see them. Oh my, Wonwoo! Why didn’t you tell me the Crown Prince is coming with you? Well… he just has to deal with everything later. “I suppose you could come, Your Highness.”
The naughty smile in the Crown Prince’s lips cannot go unnoticed. It is painfully obvious that the prince is enjoying his misery. But in all honesty, he rather witnessed the Crown Prince giggling in delight than wallowing in sadness. He remembers when they were nine, when the Crown Prince tended to an injured sparrow they found by the staircase leading to the main door, the Crown Prince had locked himself the whole day in his room when they had to set it free a week later after it was fully healed. Wonwoo would check on him from time to time, hearing his sorrowful cries in the hallway. Sorrow has never really suited the prince.
He comes up to his horse, settling in before offering a hand to the prince. He could hear a loud grunt from the prince as he climbed up. Once the prince has sat on the saddle, behind him, Wonwoo steers his horse to the path back to his home, his horse galloping at a speed. “Hold on to me, Your Highness. If you fall at this height to your unfortunate demise, I am at the mercy of the King.” He feels a tug from the sides of his hanbok, the Crown Prince clutching the fabric of his clothes.
“Your Highness, that is not what I meant.” Although Wonwoo is a skilled horseman for his age, it is his first time riding with a passenger on his back. “Wrap your hands around my waist, Your Highness. Tightly if you can.”
Soonyoung has seen Wonwoo in action so many times before this.
But never this close.
“Your Highness?” Wonwoo calls for his attention, the words uttered with kindness laced on his tone, pulling him out of his trance. Huh? “Have you not heard the words I’ve said, Your Highness?” Wonwoo didn’t wait for him to answer, pulling the reins to stop the horse from further accelerating, maintaining a balanced speed. “Your arms—around me, Your Highness.”
“Oh, alright. Apologies. My mind was wandering elsewhere.” He admits, making Wonwoo reprimand him on the spot, reminding him of his nagging Mother. “Alright, alright. Heavens, Wonwoo! You need not lecture me. I’m going to wrap my arms now—see.” And he does, the gap between them—gone; bodies pressed together. His heart starts to race, his cheeks heating up, breath shaking.
What is this feeling?
An array of questions floats in his mind during the short trip, but he dismisses it when the horse stops, and a little girl’s voice shouting Wonwoo’s name can be heard.
“You can let go now, Your Highness.”
“We have arrived?”
Soonyoung was kind of enjoying it.
“Yes, Your Highness.” A woman comes up to them, helping him to go down. He assumes she is Wonwoo’s mother. She is an absolute stunner. “You were holding me tightly. Were you frightened, Your Highness?”
“Huh! No!” He firmly denies the accusation. But he’s sure, he was feeling something else. Something entirely different. Something he felt for the first time.
Wonwoo laughs, coming down from his horse with a loud thud. “You can’t convince me otherwise, Your Highness.” Soonyoung scoffs, upper lip curling in disbelief after seeing Wonwoo maintaining an arrogant posture. Soyeon joins her older brother.
“If not for your little sister, I would have tackled you down on the ground.” Wonwoo may be the better horseman, but Soonyoung’s skills in unarmed combat level the playing field. “I am trying to be considerate here, Wonwoo. I don’t want little Soyeon to see you at my mercy.”
“Even if you can, Your Highness, I doubt that you will. You have a fondness for me, haven’t you?”
Soonyoung snorts loud enough for Wonwoo’s mother and sister to hear as he crossed his hands over his chest. “You have grown conceited, Wonwoo. Don’t mistake my attention as affection.” Wonwoo’s laughter grows louder, as if in disbelief of his words.
Well… fair enough. How would Wonwoo believe in him…
…if he can’t even believe himself?
-
“Can I come in, my Crown Prince?”
It is his older brother—Soonyoung could easily recognize his voice. He tells him that his door is open and that he has been expecting for him to come over.
Soonyoung sulked over supper yesterday, saying Jeonghan doesn’t spend his free time with him anymore unlike before. His older brother couldn’t even attend his thirteenth birthday celebration a week ago so he asked the King to give his older brother a day-off and after much convincing, the King was kind to accede to his request, saying Jeonghan has been a good student, earning praises from his mentors and has been exhibiting great potential as a military strategist. The King advised his mentors that Jeonghan will be provided some respite after continuous days of hard work.
“Hyung! It has been a while. I missed you,” He answers, already making himself comfortable on the floor by the end of his bed, beaming as he sees his older brother coming in his direction. “And I just finished my bath, but I need a hand to help me with my hair. I hope you don’t mind, hyung.” When they were much younger, his older brother used to make time after their baths to do his hair for him. Soonyoung learned how to make his top buns from his older brother. Besides playing and sleeping in each other’s room from time to time, it was one thing they enjoy doing together.
Jeonghan sits down on his bed and Soonyoung positions himself in between his brother’s legs, handing a comb to his older brother. “You just want me to do your top bun for you, don’t you?” His brother asks jokingly which he firmly denies with a loud no, turning around to glare at his brother, pretending to be offended by his brother’s accusation. “I doubt that you miss me, my Crown Prince. You and Wonwoo are attached at the hips,” His brother starts running the comb through the strands of his long hair—Soonyoung can see his older brother from the full-body mirror in front of them. “He is away for two days to attend his uncle’s marriage ceremony and you will be bored to death without him around. Isn’t that right, my Crown Prince? You are just using me as an excuse.”
“Absurd! I can have fun without Wonwoo just fine!” He is going along with his older brother’s jest, them spending some time together after so long is an absolutely endearing sight. “And hyung, stop calling me Crown Prince when it is just the two of us! You are too formal like someone I know.” He rolls his eyes, not sure if his brother had seen it, but his brother’s chuckle says otherwise. “I am serious, hyung! It is fine if others address me as such, but it is quite awkward to be called the Crown Prince by you and Wonwoo. At least Jungchan calls me hyung.” Complaining, he could see his jutted lips from the mirror in front of them.
“Alright, alright. If that will make you happy, I will address you by your name when no one is around,” There’s a short pause, Soonyoung anticipating his brother’s next words. “…Soonyoung. Does it sound natural, Soonyoung? Oh, heavens! It’ll take me a while before I get used to it, S-Soonyoung.” Soonyoung giggles, stomping his feet on the wooden floor, getting excited hearing his name from his brother. All his life, he has been mostly addressed by the people around him by various titles—son, Crown Prince, Your Highness, hyung—but never his own birth name. Kwon Soonyoung is such a beautiful name, a name he knows his mother had put great thought into. But what purpose does it serve when it has never been put to use?
“I have never thought of this, Soonyoung, but your name fits you so perfectly. It sounds soft, but its meaning suggests otherwise,” The Queen had told him what his name meant, to lead gloriously is what it is. “I am sure you will be able to lead this nation to glory just like the current King. You may even surpass him.”
“Do you believe I can, hyung?”
“You are my brother, Soonyoung. I can entrust my life to you if I must.”
“And I to you, Jeonghan hyung.”
It is too early to dwell on it, but if his brother has faith in him, then maybe he can do what is expected of him. He knows his parents are expecting a lot from him, from a thirteen year old child. And maybe because he is young that he doesn’t fully appreciate what his title entails—he is going to give it a few more years.
He may grow to love it…
…until such time that the title of King passes onto him.
Hopefully.
“How long have you known the Crown Prince again, Wonwoo?”
Wonwoo and Seungcheol are in the courtyard, practicing their swords skills in a one-on-one mock duel. As much as they are expected to hold an abundance of knowledge to support the future King on the time of his reign, it is also a must to hone their strengths, to display their fearlessness and physical prowess. Wonwoo doesn’t let Seungcheol’s attempt at a small talk in the middle of a fight interfere with his concentration. Often they have been told to treat practice battles as an actual fight.
“One who loses must battle it out against me!” Mingyu has no one to spar with as the Crown Prince is preparing to welcome his cousin who hails from the neighboring country. From what Wonwoo has heard from the Crown Prince’s loose lips, his cousin is a son of the Queen’s sister and of a commoner of a different nationality, a traveling merchant, self-made and one who went from rags-to-riches. He was someone she fell in love with at first sight. Originally, she was engaged to the King, but eloped with another man not only to follow who her heart so desired, but also to do a favor for her little sister, now the Queen. She knew her sister had eyes on the current King, then Crown Prince, as it was the other way around. She abandoned her family and for the first time in eighteen years, after being banished by the late King and Queen for breaking off their engagement with their eldest son, she is returning to the kingdom with her husband and her only child, Xu Minghao. Wonwoo had seen the King earlier this morning and he seemed to be happy to welcome their return, probably thankful as she was the one who took matters into her own hands.
It had also been announced by the King earlier that morning that the Crown Prince’s cousin will also be joining their classes from thereon.
The sound of metals clashing fires Wonwoo’s ambition to win against his opponent. Every time they duke it out in a hand-to-hand combat, it has always been a close battle between the two. Wonwoo has more losses than wins—fifty and forty-nine, respectively—and he swears to avenge his wounded ego in a sword combat, exhibiting his unrivaled swordsmanship as mentored by the finest swordsman in the palace square, the former head of the Royal Guards, and now the Minister of Defense. In sword fighting, it requires as much brain as brawn. Seungcheol may have a bigger build to dominate him in a battle of strength alone, but it is not enough to conquer him in a battle which necessitates a combination of both mental and physical ability. And this is not to downplay Seungcheol’s intelligence, Wonwoo is just saying he is undoubtedly (and infinitely much) better.
With gritted teeth, giving it all with his final push, Wonwoo finally wins the battle that lasted for almost a half of an hour, Seungcheol falls on the ground with a loud thud while he loses grip on his sword, flying a couple of feet away from him, the sharp tip of Wonwoo’s sword pointed on his neck. They are both catching their breaths, beads of sweat trickling down from their head to their chins. “Let me rest for a while, Mingyu. Unfortunately, Wonwoo did not go easy on me again.” The defeated player picks his sword up, sheathing in its case before plopping on the bench, casting his sword to the side. Wonwoo also returns his sword back inside the brass scabbard as he sits beside Seungcheol to take a breather.
“And to answer your question a while ago, hyung,” Wonwoo wipes the sweat off of his face with the sleeve of his clothes, realizing how much effort he exerted to earn his win against the older after seeing the damp spots on his sleeves. “It has been nine years since I’ve transferred to the main palace. Is there any particular reason why you’d ask?”
“It just dawned on me, Wonwoo,” Wonwoo gets distracted by Mingyu trying to squeeze in their seat, frowning at the younger. “Ten, twenty, thirty years later, we will still be doing this. Either we die of old age serving the future King of our nation or die honorably on the battlefield.” Their nation is at peace, but there is no telling what the future holds. They have been colonized once, a story Wonwoo’s father will always remind him of, and their victory entailed thousands of soldier’s lives lost—it could happen again someday, but he truly hopes it won’t. “Or we get poisoned by a dissenter who opposes the King.”
“Why are you such a pessimist, hyung?”
Seungcheol shrugs, swiping his thumb against his neck. “Your sword’s as sharp as ever. Look at this,” The older one shows him his thumb painted with blood. “I have to ask my father to patch me up later.” He might have been too harsh earlier, but it is how he has been taught by his personal mentor. “But, all I’m saying is, why don’t we have a choice?”
“But, hyung,” Mingyu interjects, unsheathing his sword, pointing it towards Wonwoo, as if challenging him to a fight instead of Seungcheol after seeing how worn down the older one is. Wonwoo pushes his sword away, glaring at the younger one. “Would you rather beg for alms in the street or attend our training everyday? Don’t you think we are still fortunate to have clothes to wear and a house to stay in during the winter? And food on our plates to keep our stomachs full?”
“That is a valid point.” Seungcheol replies, sucking in his breath and letting it go with a heavy sigh.
“What is the matter, hyung?” Wonwoo asks worryingly, checking Seungcheol for any external wounds he might have inflicted on him during the battle aside from the small scratch on his neck. He often gets carried away when he is wielding his sword. It is a gift from his father during his thirteenth birthday—a custom made sword with his name inscribed on the handle. It was forged by the most outstanding blacksmith in their country, a man coming from a family of blacksmiths.
“I am fine, Wonwoo. I just envy your cousins sometimes.” Jihoon and Seokmin are living outside the palace, meeting people of different backgrounds during social gatherings, doing something they were not forced to do after school. “But, if I think about it, it must be harder for the Crown Prince, don’t you think?”
“And which is why we have to train harder, hyung. We have to be of help to our future King.” Influenced by his father at a young age, Wonwoo knows that he has to take his duty as the future King’s advisor with utmost earnestness and sincerity. As it is, the fate of his constituents is not only up to the King, but his entire administration.
“That’s the spirit!” Mingyu exclaims, making the two of them burst out laughing.
Mingyu surely lives up to his name as the moodmaker in their small group.
Prior to the start of their class, the day following Minghao’s arrival, Soonyoung introduced his cousin to everybody formally for the first time. That morning, he asked Wonwoo to go on ahead without them as he wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, including his dearest same-aged friend. Xu Minghao was born in Zhongguo and a year younger than him and Wonwoo, making him the youngest in the class, even younger than Mingyu by a few months. He is a polyglot who speaks three languages—one which he learned from his mother and two from his father. It is essential in their livelihood as they deal not only with the locals, but also foreigners alike. When his cousin mentioned this to him in his letters, he jokingly replied with: I speculate the King wants you to be the Minister of Public Relations one day which is why he is asking you to come here and study with me.
Well, it is not a far-fetched idea, Soonyoung thinks. Minghao, with his commendable language skills, could fill in the post someday.
One by one, starting from Mingyu, Soonyoung requests his fellows to introduce themselves to his cousin. Mingyu is eager, shaking Minghao’s hand with vigor and a wide, bright smile plastered on his face. “I am Kim Mingyu, son of the Minister of Education. Pleased to meet you, Minghao. I finally have someone my age in this group!” Minghao seems taken aback by Mingyu’s congeniality, hiding behind his back after Mingyu lets go of his hand.
“You are scaring the boy,” Seungcheol interjects, his commanding tone and undeniable presence changing the energy in the room. After Mingyu takes a step back, making way for Seungcheol, the older one takes Minghao’s hand. Soonyoung nods at his younger cousin, as if assuring him Mingyu won’t bite and if he will, Seungcheol will step in to pull him out of harm’s way. “I am Choi Seungcheol, the youngest son of the royal family’s physician. Contrary to being the youngest in my family, I am the eldest in this group. You can treat me as an older brother like everyone in this group does.”
Minghao tiptoes, hand covering his mouth as he whispers to him. “He looks reliable, my dearest cousin.” Soonyoung acknowledges his cousin’s statement by nodding aggressively, pursed lips. Seungcheol may have heard his cousin’s praises, if the playful grin on his face isn’t an indication of his reaction to Minghao’s compliment.
And of course, last but not the least—Jeon Wonwoo. “And I, Jeon Wonwoo, the son of the Chief State Councillor. I am of the same age as the Crown Prince. Address me however you see fit.” With his right hand on his left chest, a courteous bow follows the short introduction, then a gallant smile showcasing his set of perfectly white teeth. “If you ever encounter hardships, I will do everything within my ability to help. My loyalty to the Crown Prince extends to his family and that includes you, Xu Minghao.”
While Wonwoo was speaking in front of them, making himself known, Soonyoung could feel his cousin nudging him at the sides with his sharp elbow, not stopping until he paid him attention. “Is he really The Jeon Wonwoo? Your childhood friend?”
Before Soonyoung could respond, Wonwoo answers on his behalf, albeit confused, head slightly tipped to the side. “To my knowledge, I am the only Jeon Wonwoo the Crown Prince knows of. I hope that answers your question, Minghao.”
His cousin’s giggles turn into a sinister laugh—Soonyoung and everyone seemingly baffled by the reaction. “Oh, Wonwoo hyung! You are just like how my cousin described you in his letters!” Oh, dear! Soonyoung is aghast at his cousin’s sheer insolence. Afraid that Minghao would reveal more of the contents of his letters, he abruptly pulled Minghao to his side, hands covering his cousin’s loose lips. But Minghao, as scrawny as he looks in his traditional clothings, is stronger than he seems, escaping from his grasp, almost stumbling as he slips from his grip, but immediately regaining his footing afterwards. “I have always wanted to meet you, Wonwoo hyung!” Minghao just wouldn’t stop—Soonyoung’s patience is running thin. “My cousin speaks highly of you in his letters!” His cousin casually blurts out.
“Xu Minghao!” Unable to contain his annoyance, he shouts, staring at Minghao with an indignant gaze, startling everyone in the room. He rarely gets angry, and when he does, it would take a while for him to forgive.
“Let us go back to our respective seats.” The rest only gives a perfunctory nod, terrified to meet his steady and furious gaze.
For the whole duration of their lessons, Soonyoung was quiet, only speaking when he was asked. On a normal day, he and Mingyu would bicker like siblings would fight over petty reasons. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone seemingly on their toes, afraid to further aggravate the situation. Soonyoung could feel Minghao staring at him from behind, but he is not in the mood to confront his cousin.
“I’m sure Your Highness will forgive you,” He hears Wonwoo comforting his downtrodden younger cousin. “Nothing a sincere apology can’t solve. Talk to him later at the main palace before dinner. He will come around.”
Soonyoung hears a knock on his door—Minghao inviting himself in after he was allowed to enter. He doesn’t turn around to face him, but feels a presence looming in from behind. He closes the book he is reading, pushing it aside, exhaling raggedly. He isn’t mad, just disappointed. “Is there anything you want to tell me, dearest cousin?” Staring at his calligraphy brush lined up, he’s drumming his fingers on the table as he waits for his cousin to reply.
“I would like to apologize, Soonyoung hyung,” Minghao places a hand on his shoulder. “I know better now. I shouldn’t have divulged the contents of our letters, hyung. I got thrilled—I was meeting your most trusted friend after all.” In their exchange of letters, Soonyoung would often tell Minghao about Wonwoo, about how he is a trustworthy companion. And more often than not, in Minghao’s replies, his younger cousin would always tell him how excited he is to meet Wonwoo in person.
Finally facing his cousin, he stands up and swifty pulls his cousin towards the end of his bed, sitting down on the edge. “You are forgiven, Minghao. Just promise me it will not happen again.”
“But, hyung, why don’t you want Wonwoo hyung to know about it? You have only spoken kind words about him in your letters. Not a single word of—” Soonyoung puts a finger on Minghao’s lips, shushing his younger cousin to silence, standing up abruptly, his back facing the younger. He couldn’t let his younger cousin see his blushing cheeks, red from embarrassment.
“Uh—” He stammers, biting his index finger as he tries to rack his brain for a believable excuse. “You know—I don’t want him to get ahead of himself just because I praised him a little.”
“I guess you have a point.” It is a lifeless response, and by that time, Soonyoung knows Minghao would be watching his every move around Wonwoo. Similar to what his cousin said about himself in his letters, he is quick to catch on. Soonyoung is seeing it first hand.
Good gracious!
-
It is just a harmless, little, insignificant crush—until it didn’t go away like it was supposed to. The fiasco with his cousin a few days ago made him realize that his feelings did not disappear. He had only pushed it at the back of his mind, trying to forget, but instead of vanishing into thin air, it unconsciously grew bigger with each passing day. Now at age sixteen, the title of the Crown Prince is starting to wear on him. Sooner or later, he will need to find a suitable partner to join him in his reign. On the other hand, Wonwoo seems fine—business as usual, doing what seems like their literature homework, writing with surgical dexterity on the blank page of his notebook, after going back to the main palace from his private lessons. Soonyoung skipped his private lessons that day, heading straight to the main palace after their classes to prepare and spruce up.
“Have you ever laid eyes on someone, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asks, seeing Wonwoo drop everything he has been doing, quickly closing his notebook and pushing it further away to the corner of his table. Soonyoung stares at him suspiciously with a raised brow and a creased forehead, wondering why Wonwoo is being secretive with his literary homework when they will review their work together later on, like a last minute checking before their literature class on Friday.
Between the two of them, Wonwoo is the more serious one, and Soonyoung often jokes that if they are seen outside by people who do not know of them, Wonwoo seems more prince-like while he is nothing but his silly friend. “Like that daughter of the Deputy Minister of Education who was ogling at you the other day during the banquet.” The Queen arranged for a party to welcome her sister’s return and invited the royal officials along with their immediate families.
“How could I, Your Highness?” Wonwoo replies, rolling his eyes at him before standing up. “…when I have my hands full with you.” The statement is nothing close to romantic, but Soonyoung is sure he felt his heart skip a beat, falling on his back when he tripped on his foot as he unconsciously moved backward after Wonwoo advances towards him. “Did I answer your question, Your Highness?” Wonwoo lowers himself, extending his hand to help him get up.
Soonyoung scowls at the mention of Your Highness, swatting Wonwoo’s hand away, declining his offer to help. “I can get up on my own, Wonwoo. I have my own limbs—thank you very much.” As a response, Wonwoo only timidly nods. Once Soonyoung is up, he dusts his silk hanbok, furrowed eyebrows as he stares at Wonwoo in disbelief. “And how many times have I told you to disregard my status if it is just between us two? When will you stop calling me Your Highness, Wonwoo? I have a name, may I remind you.”
Wonwoo looks up to him, taking his time before he answers. “That would be the twentieth time you reminded me that today and a thousand and one times, collectively, from the moment we have met nine years ago.” Soonyoung isn’t sure if Wonwoo is accurate about the numbers, because really? Was he keeping tabs? The thing about Wonwoo, his expressions are quite difficult to decipher—is he joking or is he telling the truth? How would Soonyoung know?
He stomps his feet, fuming mad while Wonwoo seems to be enjoying his predicament. “You are absurd! That was a rhetorical question, my lovely soon-to-be council.”
“You are such a child, my prince.” Oh, dear Lord. He gasped so loudly that he ended up getting surprised at the sound he made.
This is the first time Wonwoo had addressed him as such. And prior to this, he had no idea how it would feel to be called with such a title by Wonwoo. My prince. It is like a cheat key—the way those words rolled out of his tongue, so soft and tender—a guaranteed way to pacify him whenever he is throwing a childish tantrum. “Please get back to your room before I call your brother.”
“Fine!” He lets it go for now and holds his hanbok up, preventing the hem from touching the floor, and huffs a breath. He is to attend an exclusive feast for the family in a short while, a small celebration the Queen Consort had organized to congratulate the King’s successful undertaking—his council finally in concert to draft a legislation to increase spending on health for the King’s approval. “But promise me I can go back to your room once the feast is over.”
“Promise, my prince. I am all yours upon your return.” Calling him such a name a second time… Soonyoung feels a tingling sensation in his spine, like he is being tickled on the most sensitive parts of his body.
“Alright, I will take my leave.” Soonyoung feels a sense of relief in Wonwoo’s expression after he promised to leave, eyeing the notebook he set aside with worry thereafter. What is in that notebook, anyway?
He will take his leave. That was what he promised, but wouldn’t it be a missed opportunity to surrender like that without having to see what Wonwoo is hiding in his notebook? Being called my prince surely made him feel a little more mischievous than usual. Once Wonwoo has lowered his guard, he steals Wonwoo’s notebook, making faces as Wonwoo glowers at him while trying to get his notebook back to his possession. “Oh? What is this?” Wonwoo’s fluid handwriting on the opened page piques Soonyoung’s interest. During their last literature class, if Soonyoung’s memory serves him well, they had a discussion about famous literary authors and their critically acclaimed works, tasked to write a one page reflection paper about a sensational novel. But why does it seem like Wonwoo is writing some sort of a… poem?
Oh, to be friends.
An awful and painful label,
Left me wanting for more.
But I’d rather we be friends,
Than be nothing at all.
If I risk it all,
Would there be a future for us two?
“Are you heartbroken… Wonwoo?” That has to be the only explanation. Otherwise, why would Wonwoo write these words laced with so much melancholy? “But you said, earlier, you…”
Wonwoo snatches his notebook back from him, hiding it behind his back and exhaling deeply. “T-that’s not mine, Your Highness. I’m helping little Soyeon write a poem for her literature task.” Soonyoung wants to believe him, to accept what he said as the truth, but his heart fails to heed to what his mind is telling him to do, heart beating rapidly, mind going numb, like he is going to crumble at any given moment. And it doesn’t help that Wonwoo continues to stutter amidst the explanation. “F-forget about it, Your Highness. Little Soyeon will be mad if she finds out you had read the piece before her.”
“Is Little Soyeon in love? But she’s so young, Wonwoo. If I were her older brother, I would march towards the boy’s home and ask him to be responsible for Little Soyeon’s feelings!”
“Your Highness, you are asking too many questions.” Indeed, he is quite a curious teen. “Aren’t you invading the little privacy I have, Your Highness?”
“Aha!” The poem is his! What a slip of a tongue, Jeon Wonwoo! “Didn’t you say this is for Little—”
But before he could finish, Wonwoo frantically shows him the way out, pushing him towards the door in a hurried pace—his feet moving against his will. “Would you still open your doors later for me, Wonwoo?” He tries to turn around to take a look at Wonwoo, but every time he does, Wonwoo would remind him to look straight ahead. “But…” Look straight, Your Highness. “But Wonwoo…” Your Highness, be careful.
“I invited you, didn’t I?” Wonwoo opens the door for him.
“I was just making sure I am still welcomed to enter your chamber.” He replies, refusing to make eye contact.
“You are, Your Highness. You always are.”
“I find that reassuring, Wonwoo. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Wonwoo offers him a bow and stays in that position until he bids his temporary goodbye. “I shall go back to my room while I wait for the feast to commence.” After Wonwoo closes his door, Soonyoung hurriedly runs inside his room, locking his doors behind him in a haste. Leaning his back against the wall beside the entrance to his room, he continues to breathe heavily, heart pounding like the beat of a percussion.
Placing a hand over where his heart is, Soonyoung gasps for air shockingly.
“What is wrong with me?!”
“But more importantly, who has caught Wonwoo’s elusive heart?”
While the adults are having a toast, Soonyoung is watching his cousin downing the sweets, stuffing his cheeks. They served his favorites, but didn’t seem to have the appetite to have a taste of each dessert plated nicely on the long table. “These taste amazing, dearest cousins!” Jeonghan and Jungchan observe as Minghao inhales the array of small servings of authentic Korean desserts. “We do not have this back in Zhongguo!”
His two brothers are not passionate about the sweet course so they happily gave Minghao their portions. “You can have ours, cousin.” Jeonghan says, pushing the china in front of Minghao with Jungchan following suit. As far as Soonyoung knows, besides being an only child, Minghao has no cousins on his father’s side of the family, so even after Jeonghan told him of his lineage, Minghao still insisted that Jeonghan is a part of his extended family—a cousin just like him and Jungchan. “These will taste good with tea. If you want, I can have these arranged to be served during your tea ceremony.”
“Oh, really?” Minghao’s eyes are sparkling, hands clasped together in delight. “I’d really appreciate that, Jeonghan hyung.”
“You can have mine, too, Hao.” Soonyoung slides his plate disinterestedly towards Minghao’s direction, chin resting on his hand. Minghao gratefully accepts, chomping down the food as though he had been starved for days (he was not!). The other two only smile at him with adoration, asking the servant who passed by their table to serve them another plate. It is when he lets out a long, exasperated sigh that Jeonghan taps his thigh to ask him if something’s wrong.
He denies at first, but recants it a good few seconds after.
“Wait—hyung, actually. There is something.” Retracting his reply, Minghao and Jungchan turn to him, staring at him intently—his cousin seemingly so interested that he even sets his fork aside. “Have you ever liked someone? I mean—you’re seventeen so it is about time, right?”
“Actually,” Jeonghan looks around before asking them to come closer to him. “The King has arranged a luncheon tomorrow so I can get to know the daughter of the Deputy Minister of Education.” His older brother spoke in a hushed tone, giving the impression that he wants to be as inconspicuous as possible. The confession made him gasp, loud enough to attract the attention of the elders—Jeonghan is quick enough to assure them that it was not a matter of importance and that they should proceed to their conversation. Jungchan apologizes to him before he shoves an entire biscuit in his mouth to shut him up.
He glares at Jungchan, forcing his jaw to chew on the biscuit pushed inside his mouth. The other three snickers at the sight of him struggling with the biscuit almost the size of a fist. Why are the baked goods abnormally huge, by the way?
“By her—” A pause, unable to find the words to say. “...do you mean Sowon noona?”
“Yes, who else? Remember the banquet last time? The King was engaged in a small talk with her father when they asked me what I thought of his daughter.” Maybe he was busy entertaining guests that he had not seen the King and his older brother having a conversation with the Deputy Minister, but of course, he remembers the banquet. It is a recent event and it is still a vivid memory in his mind. But what about it is important that his older brother has to bring it up in their discourse? “I may have confessed how I am besotted with his daughter. She is my classmate and I cannot ignore how much of a beauty and brain she is.”
“So, are you saying…?” So when he noticed her looking their way to their little group of seven, she wasn’t staring at Wonwoo? But at his older brother instead? Is that why Wonwoo is upset to the point that he resorted to writing grief-stricken poems? Everything is making sense now! It must be unrequited on Wonwoo’s part.
“Yes, my prince.” He has never seen his older brother this enthusiastic before. “If everything goes well, I will ask for her hand in marriage once I reach adulthood.”
Oh, no. Poor Wonwoo.
“Wow, hyung!” Jungchan exclaims in delight as he holds their hyung’s hands, dreamy-eyed and with a sunny, childlike smile. “At this rate, your betrothal may come first before Soonyoung hyung’s!” It was a hard slap on his face and Jungchan just has to point it out. He just turned sixteen a few months ago—why are they even talking about marriage? He is but a child for pete’s sake!
“It is simply too early to talk about marriage, my brother,” He tries to dismiss his younger brother’s statement, taking an anxious sip from the glass of cold water the servant served him earlier. “Anything could happen.” If both Jeonghan and Wonwoo would ask for his help to win Sowon ever, without second thoughts, he would reject them both. How could he choose between his brother and most trusted childhood friend? He cannot bear seeing either of them get hurt just because he took sides so he will let nature take its course. Go with the flow.
“But it is inevitable, Soonyoung hyung.” His younger brother replies and Soonyoung feels pressed about his marital status. Well, Jungchan couldn’t be more right. He just doesn’t want to think of it right now—not when he still has time to figure things out. To figure out what he really feels for this childhood friend of his. To make sense of things. To think about what he wants to do about his feelings.
Soonyoung gives his brothers and cousin a rueful grin, trying to mask his worries. “Oh, Jungchan! Humor your older brother, will you? Allow me to enjoy my bachelorhood!”
“Whatever, Soonyoung hyung. You are spouting nonsense.”
He pretends to laugh at Jungchan’s nonchalance.
Whatever.
-
Growing up together, Wonwoo has memorized all of the Crown Prince’s quirks, such as how the Crown Prince would frown and stare at him with disdain when he addresses him as Your Highness, refusing to be called such, complaining as it is too formal considering that they are friends of the same age. Wonwoo would remind the Crown Prince that calling him only by his name would be tantamount to an offense guilty of a crime—it is not, but Wonwoo likes to exaggerate. ‘You won’t be punished if I won’t tell on you’ is what the Crown Prince would always assure him and every single time, Wonwoo would snort back only to piss his childhood friend off.
Right now, at first glance, the Crown Prince seems to be in a sour mood and whatever is causing it, though Wonwoo claims to have learned every little idiosyncrasies Soonyoung possesses, he admittedly has troubles figuring it out this time around. “Your forehead is furrowed, Your Highness.” The Crown Prince is quick to iron it away, suddenly crossing his arms, huffing a breath before turning his head away from his direction. Hmph!
Wonwoo only shrugs and places his net bag atop his study table, already used to the Crown Prince's whimsical reactions. “If you won’t tell me what’s causing your foul mood, Your Highness, how will I be of help to you?”
“You are so uptight, Wonwoo! Calling me Your Highness this, Your Highness that.” Wonwoo hears Soonyoung yell all the while mocking his tone, the latter making a mess out of his bed when he plops his body on it as Wonwoo unloads the contents of his net bag, pulling out each scroll he used during their calligraphy lessons earlier that day and his brushes. “You are making me upset. Didn’t Father say you have to adhere to my request?”
From where Wonwoo is, he sees the Crown Prince trying to sit up, his hair a horrible mess after he removes the knot of his top bun, crazy strands sticking out here and there. Soonyoung scowls at him when their eyes meet and Wonwoo only shakes his head, not giving in to his childhood friend’s whining. He looks away, focusing on his things and not sparing a glance at the Crown Prince despite his childish outbursts. He hears footsteps coming his way, the Crown Prince stomping his way towards Wonwoo, heavy steps against the wooden floor, making him turn to face him. “I can’t believe I have to plead for your attention when—” Wonwoo charges boldly towards him, staring down at him with furrowed brows, the close proximity making the prince take a step back, losing his balance.
But unlike last time, Wonwoo catches him, his strong arms hooked around his lithe waist, the remaining gap between them disappearing when Wonwoo pulls him towards his body. Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way Soonyoung’s cheeks turn red, his natural blush amplified by his biological response to being embarrassed. “Be careful, Your Highness. I am not always there to catch you.”
Soonyoung breaks free from his hold, much to Wonwoo’s chagrin, tidying his crumpled hanbok, feeling his cheeks with the back of his palm before glowering at him. “Then make sure you’re always there, Wonwoo. That is my first official request to you as your prince.”
“That is not a bad request, Your Highness. I thought it would have been something incredulous like,” A pause, Wonwoo is taken aback when he realizes how adorable the prince looks with his hair all down after he removed his top bun, red cheeks and pinkish, plump lips. Though, honestly, this is not the first time Wonwoo had noticed such an enchanting presence. When he heard the royal servants and guards gushing over Soonyoung, as he made his grand entrance during the celebration of his sixteenth birthday, all dressed to the nines, looking elegant more than usual as he took careful steps, it made him look at Soonyoung twice.
Soonyoung is a timeless beauty just like the Queen. If Soonyoung already possesses such a quality at a young age, how would he be in a few years time when his youthful looks mature, childish prince becoming prim and proper? However, back then, it was pure admiration—he was certain of it. Right now, though, confused as he is, he cannot simply put a name to his emotion. It is an elevated version of simple admiration.
Is it because he does not know? Or is it because he is holding himself back out of fear of its serious implications once he acknowledges it?
“Like?” The sudden inquisition hauls him out of his inappropriate thoughts. He is not allowed to think of his friend, his prince, that way. He is to be revered, to be treated gently. But most of all, this is not how his training should bear fruit. The council, if he were to be a part of it in the otherwise near future with Soonyoung as King, Wonwoo should display power and authority.
“Like… asking me to call you my prince instead of Your Highness.” He manages to croak out a response despite being distracted by the improper thoughts permeating his head. Get it together, Wonwoo!
Soonyoung smiles widely at him, grinning from ear to ear. It feels forced though. That is not how he usually smiles and it is fairly effortless on his part to catch every nuance of Soonyoung’s expression. “And that is why you are Father’s favorite! And mine, too. You have my gratitude for giving me such a wonderful idea.” It’s cruel to feel like his heart is about to jump out of his ribs because of Soonyoung, while he has no idea he is causing this whole ordeal. “That is my second request, Wonwoo.”
“Call me my prince.”
“That,” There is a pause, Wonwoo deliberating in all seriousness. “I cannot promise, but I will try.”
“In exchange, I will not pester you to call me by my first name anymore, Wonwoo.”
“That is a tempting offer, Your Highness.”
Soonyoung grins at him, a proud smile. “I am a skilled trader, Wonwoo. Anyhow, I shall take my leave. I will see you at dinner.” The Crown Prince made his exit, Wonwoo shaking his head after he realized how he had been played.
The Crown Prince successfully diverted the topic away from the real issue at hand.
But even if the Crown Prince did succeed today, he believes there will be a silver lining amidst everything because the Crown Prince’s aversion only confirms Wonwoo’s theory in mind, that whatever it is that troubles the Crown Prince, he simply doesn’t want Wonwoo to find out.
-
“Have you heard about Sowon noona and Prince Jeonghan?”
Out of the blue, Mingyu brings up an unexpected topic in their conversation while the three of them—him, Seungcheol, and Mingyu—are tending to their horses before they start exploring the woods behind the Palace. They were tasked by Seungcheol’s father to find medicinal herbs he needed for his research, a personal request of some sort which is why Soonyoung and Minghao opted to stay behind.
Taken aback by the peculiar turn of their conversation, he and Seungcheol end up looking at each other at the same time, shrugging cluelessly. Wonwoo does what is expected of him diligently, like his father, and because of this, he has no time to ponder about rumors spreading within the Palace Square. He devotes his precious time to better himself for when the time the Crown Prince assumes the position of King comes.
“They had a luncheon a few days ago, my brothers.” Mingyu tells them, looking smug. “I overheard my father and the deputy minister talking about it.” Mingyu’s father is the Minister of Education. Meanwhile, Sowon’s father is his deputy minister. It made sense why Mingyu managed to obtain an exclusive scoop. “They say Prince Jeonghan is looking to get along romantically with Sowon noona.”
“I’ve known since then that you are quite the blabbermouth,” Apparently, Seungcheol hyung found his nonchalant response so funny that he dropped to the ground on his knees dramatically, hands on his stomach, laughing maniacally. On the other hand, Mingyu seems flabbergasted at being branded as a blabbermouth and as much as the younger looks like he wanted to retaliate, he holds himself back, probably realizing on his own what an actual blabbermouth he is. “But I didn’t know you could go as far as tattling about the prince’s affairs. Jeonghan hyung is still a prince, may I remind you, Mingyu. Be glad that no one is around but us.”
Mingyu looks around the area anxiously, covering his mouth with his hands. “Is the coast clear? Are you sure no one heard me but you, my brothers?”
“M-Mingyu,” Still laughing, Seungcheol’s palm lands on Mingyu’s broad back, hitting him without a stop not until he begins to wheeze as he chokes from laughing too hard. Wonwoo only shakes his head—there is nothing unusual with how the two are acting. Every time he sees those two engaging in foolish banter, he is reminded of a game of tag between a cat and a mouse. “Are you for real, Mingyu? You should look around before you start rambling about the prince, not after you tattle about the prince’s budding romance!”
Wonwoo nods, agreeing.
“I didn’t mean to tattle!” Mingyu pouts, looking like a sullen child. “All I wanted to say is—that could be us in two or three years time!”
Oh, no. Not him. Wonwoo is ready to offer his life in serving the future King of their nation. Marriage would only hinder him in his lifelong mission. Having a family of his own would entail the need to divide his time between his duty as the head of the family and his duty as a Councillor to the Crown Prince. If he wants to be better than his father, he needs to eliminate all that would affect the quality of his work. “Maybe you two, but not me, Mingyu. I cannot see myself embracing a woman, to look at her with great appreciation,” It is true. He sees romantic entanglement as nothing but a burden, something that would only slow him down after running at a great speed—to crash and burn without having to live to do his purpose. “In my eyes, only the Crown Prince deserves to be treated with such reverence.”
“Oh, Wonwoo! My sweet, innocent younger brother, Wonwoo!” Seungcheol bellows. “If I didn’t know you and the Crown Prince are childhood friends, I would assume you are madly in love with him.”
“Do not test my patience, brothers.” He says in a stern voice, thinking of Seungcheol’s statement as a complete poppyco*ck and nonsense, but not straightforwardly denying it. He could have said no, but why didn’t he? “We are here to run an errand for the royal physician, hyung. If we are to fail this small task, I am sure between the three of us, you will get the short end of the stick.” Seungcheol grimaces, mounting up his horse with an exasperated sigh.
“Oh, do not remind me, Wonwoo. He will get livid if I don't come back with those herbs.” Seungcheol’s father is a strict man, especially when it is about his profession. He is devoted to his craft which is why the King had promoted him from a community physician to a royal physician, saying it would be a waste of his talents to stay in a far-flung area with less than a hundred citizens.
Wonwoo and Mingyu both let out a sarcastic laugh before mounting up their horses, earning a scowl from the eldest. “Alright, our goal is to come back with the herbs before the sun goes down.” Wonwoo says his last speech before they embark on their journey.
“You look so chirpy, Soonyoung hyung,” Jungchan says before taking a sip of his warm tea. Committed to fulfilling their promise to Minghao, they gather around the tea table at the Palace’s garden, surrounded by the ethereal-looking flowers in full bloom, enjoying a cup of chamomile tea. “Anything good happened on your way back? Have you seen Wonwoo hyung before they left for their little expedition?”
“No,” Oh, but he did. “They’ve already departed when I’ve arrived.” He arrived there five minutes before the group of three took off with their horses to the forest area behind the palace, but never announced his presence as he decided to eavesdrop on his classmates’ brief but rather interesting conversation. His childhood friend’s honest response completely refutes his assumption that Wonwoo has unreturned feelings for Sowon. Not only that, for Wonwoo, no one but himself—The Crown Prince—is deserving of such reverent treatment.
He feels his cheeks burning, reminiscing the exact scene he witnessed as he remained hidden behind the huge tree next to the stable, but opposite to where his classmates were.
“Why are your cheeks red, Soonyoung?” Jeonghan questions—Soonyoung’s instant reaction is to feel them up with the back of his palm. They are ridiculously warm, blush reaching up to his ears. “Are you sick?”
“Oh, no, hyung. I am fine. It must be because I walked all the way from the stable to the garden,” The garden is quite far from where the garden is situated so he hopes it checks out and makes sense. “And the weather is unusually hot today, hyung.”
“Are you sure, Soonyoung hyung?” Finally placing his tea cup down on the table, Minghao joins them in their conversation. “We can cut this afternoon tea short so you can go back to your chamber to rest.” Minghao shoots a knowing look at him and when he cowers in fear, afraid that Minghao has really caught on to him as he lies through his teeth, Minghao only continues to stare at him smugly.
“I-I am fine, r-really.” Though the way he stutters says otherwise. Without a doubt, his cousin is a particularly observant teen, able to notice the slight changes in his expression.
“Okay, if you say so.” Shrugging, Minghao replies snarkily before bringing up the tea cup close to his nose, inhaling the mild scent of chamomile tea before taking a sip. “Only say the word, hyung.”
On their way back to the main palace, Minghao pulls him closer, whispering the words: You might have deceived your brothers, but not me, dearest cousin.
-
Entering his Father’s study after a knock, Soonyoung finds himself joining in the middle of a rather ponderous conversation with his Father and older brother. He stands upright in front of his Father’s wooden desk with his hands at each side of his body. His older brother smiles at his way, nodding, before turning to face their Father again. Had he known his older brother was here, talking about his potential engagement with Sowon, he would’ve stopped by later instead.
“Right in time, my son. Your brother and I are discussing his plans for when he turns twenty-one.” This type of conversation is what he dreads the most. Turning twenty-one in this nation means one’s entrance to adulthood. By then, everyone of age is legally allowed to enter into a contract of marriage as long as there is mutual consent from both parties. “I have also been working things out with Sowon’s father so I have high hopes for their likely union.”
“There is no reason not to like Jeonghan hyung.” He says, patting his older brother’s back lightly. “I am sure Sowon noona will fall for my brother in no time.” While they say he is a spitting image of the Queen, his older brother is as charming as their Father. Whether it is his looks or his personality, his older brother has this distinct flair that one would be unable to ignore—an undeniable charisma befitting of the King’s first born.
“While you are already here, why don’t we talk about yours, son?” His Father gives him a pointed look before dipping the quill in the container filled with black ink, resuming to sign on the documents piled atop the table. “Do you have anyone in mind? We could arrange a luncheon with her family just like what we did for your brother.”
Shaking his head disappointedly, he replies begrudgingly with a hostile tone. “Isn’t it too early for us to have this talk about marriage, Father?” His Father looks up, raising a brow as he purses his lips, giving him a pensive look. Soonyoung, afraid to meet his Father’s gaze, swallows the lump in his throat. Nervous is quite the understatement. The tension surrounding them is intense, but his concern fades when his Father smiles at him with an indifferent shrug. “You are as healthy as a bull, Father. I am quite sure I won’t be replacing you anytime soon.”
“Take your time, son. Finding your future bride is no easy feat.” The current King marrying for love is a rarity as it is a common practice to marry for convenience. The Crown Prince’s future spouse must come from a nobility who does not only boast of beauty and intelligence, but must also possess kindness—a heart that yearns to understand and share. For as long as they possess the minimum requirement, they earn the chance to become a candidate.
“Is this everything you want to say to me, Father?” Soonyoung wants to get out of his Father’s study as quickly as possible. Jeonghan runs a comforting hand on his back, giving him a small nod, as if to implore him to indulge their Father a little.
“You may now go, Soonyoung.” The King dismisses him with a soft smile, making him feel a little guilty. It is uncharacteristic of him to respond to his Father with such animosity.
“Father, please forgive me if I were rude.” He bows, placing his right hand on his left chest—a sign of utmost respect to the Highest Authority in the land before him. Yes, he is his Father, but he is also the King. “I will humbly accept any punishment you will impose for my insolence.”
Hearing the legs of the wooden chair scraping against the floor, Soonyoung quivers, startled to see their Father coming their way. He stands up straight, chin up as their Father stands in front of them, placing each of his hand on his and his hyung’s shoulder. “I am not mad, Soonyoung. In fact, I understand your feelings very well—I was once in your position too. And if it sounded like I was pressuring you to find a lovely bride-to-be, please take my apology. You are still so young—you have your whole life ahead of you.” Everything his Father said has made him feel at ease. “But when you reach adulthood, my son, there is no escaping this. This should be done in order to fulfill your role. However, for now, there is still so much time to enjoy your youth.”
“Understood, Father.”
“You are dismissed.” The King removes his hand resting on his shoulder, allowing him to turn around and head for the door. “Jeonghan, we still have something to discuss. Please stay and indulge your Father.” He hears their Father say before he comes out of his Father’s study. There is no denying that their Father has put a lot of faith in their eldest brother. Jeonghan, aside from being the most responsible out of the three of them, seems to bear more semblance with the King, not only in terms of appearance, but also in respect to his demeanor and personality. Often, Soonyoung would hear that Jeonghan acts more like a Crown Prince than he does.
And there are no hard feelings. If anything, their utterance seems to have more truth to it than what reality dictates.
When he opens the door to his room, Soonyoung is met with the sight of Minghao scanning one of his books, flipping through each page, seemingly without a thought in mind. A sarcastic smile is smeared across his cousin’s lovely face, closing the book in his hands as he says his words of greeting. “Oh, hi, dearest cousin. Finally, you are back. Do you know how long I have waited for your return?”
He flops on his bed with a groan, arms spread across. “What do you want, Hao? I am exhausted.” He stares at the ceiling absentmindedly, waiting for his cousin to reply.
“Oh, you know,” He hears footsteps getting closer and closer, and the next thing he knows is his cousin is bent in half, staring at him, their faces only a hair’s breadth away. The sarcastic smile on his cousin’s face irks him, etched on his mind and is really getting on his nerves. “I was wondering what you witnessed the other day that got you so…” There’s a short pause, his cousin shaking his head a little, clicking his tongue, and his eyes, oh, with noticeable, naughty glint. “...a little too ecstatic, if I may say.”
He pushes Minghao away, trying to hide the blush that creeps on his cheeks as he remembers every detail of that day. In my eyes, only the Crown Prince deserves to be treated with such reverence. To this day, Soonyoung cannot forget how Wonwoo declared his loyalty, if Soonyoung could call it as such, with so much conviction. Was it loyalty or something else… something akin to Seungcheol’s comment? If I didn’t know you and the Crown Prince are childhood friends, I would assume you are madly in love with him.
“See!” The high-pitched voice surprises him, making him jolt in his current position. He sits up in a haste, brows knitted as if saying ‘What now, dearest cousin?!’. But Minghao seems to have a talent for understanding the unspoken, as if his cousin had read his mind. “You were just smiling at the thought of it!” He was smiling? “I will not stop pestering you until you say it yourself, dearest cousin.”
Minghao is persistent, more so than he has expected. He is usually timid, gentle with the way he stirs the tea with the spoon made out of fine china, meticulously distributing the flavor throughout the fragile piece of cup. That is the image he has of his cousin—not this. Definitely not the way he is acting up in front of him. “If I tell you, my dearest cousin, do you promise to take it to your grave? Not a single word I say should come out in the confines of my chamber.”
“Oh, wow. This is serious, isn’t it?” Understanding the seriousness of his tone, Minghao sits down by his side and nods, placing a heart over his heart. “I swear on all things I hold dear, my cousin, I will not say a word to anyone. You can count on me because I know better now.”
He tells Minghao everything. Every little thing. And his cousin listens attentively as he notices every miniscule change in Minghao’s expression. His heart beats rapidly when he repeats Wonwoo’s statement word by word and it just gets so much worse when he imitates the way Seungcheol replies back to Wonwoo’s declaration.
“It all makes sense now, dearest cousin,” This leaves him more puzzled than he already is. What does? “This is exactly the reason why you avoid the topic of marriage. You have feelings for Wonwoo hyung,” It was not posed like a question, but as if Minghao was stating a certain fact. “And as for Wonwoo hyung, all I know is he cares for you. Maybe a little too much for a friend? And I doubt he’ll tell you if you ask, but one can only hold so much endearment for someone and keep it to themselves. He, too, will break, and you just have to wait for that moment to come.”
“I don’t like him that way, cousin.” He denies, but is only met with Minghao’s dismayed look.
“Your mouth is spouting lies, but your eyes are speaking the truth.” Minghao’s words made him turn around, staring at his reflection in the mirror atop his wooden drawer by the bed. In an instant, he knows what his cousin is talking about. The somber expression he has is giving it away. Of course, he is thrilled to hear those words come out from Wonwoo’s mouth, but he is the Crown Prince. He cannot dwell on the littlest hope that Wonwoo may be feeling the same way as him. He is not allowed to like a boy, much less someone they are grooming to be a part of his council.
“There is no place in this palace for my feelings to grow and foster, Minghao. On my shoulder, I carry the weight of this Kingdom. They expect me to be like my Father, to be like the predecessor Kings.” But Soonyoung, long before this conversation with his cousin, has come to an understanding that he is nothing like his Father or anyone who came in line before him.
“I understand your worries, cousin, I do. I know you only want the best for your constituents,” Minghao pats his thighs, telling him to lay his head down on his lap. And he does willingly and begins to sob, tears falling from his cheeks, dampening the fabric of Minghao’s clothes. Oh, how much he needed this. He feels Minghao’s slender fingers untying the knot of his top bun, letting them loose, and playing with strands of his hair. “But while this Kingdom has grown in abundance, there was no true progress. Everyone in position continues to think backwards. Someone needs to change that system and that someone may be you.”
“So before it consumes you, break it, cousin.” Minghao runs a gentle stroke on his hair while his sobs subside. “You need not worry, cousin. Things will come into place—everything will eventually align.”
“It is impossible not to fret, Minghao.”
“You are not the cousin who I got to know from our exchange of letters.” It could have been a mere pretense, his dauntlessness. Maybe he is all bark, but no bite. “In your letters, didn’t you say you wanted to feel more alive, cousin?” He finds himself responding to Minghao, nodding absently as he breathes deeply, blinking. “Then allow yourself to have control over your feelings. Do not fret about a tomorrow that may never come. Only then will you feel that your life is worth living.” Minghao speaks as if from experience, but it does not come off as a shock to him. His cousin must have learned a thing or two about courage from his parents—his mother exiled from the Kingdom by disobeying the former monarch to marry for love. “To resent yourself for something you regret not doing—I don’t want to witness my dearest cousin go through that pain.”
“You are only a Crown Prince, my dearest cousin. Not yet a King.”
“And before you are a Crown Prince, you are but a human. To follow your heart’s true desire is human nature you cannot deny.”
-
“You seem fine now, Your Highness.”
Wonwoo makes a remark in passing while reading a book beside the Crown Prince. Just a few days ago, the Crown Prince was wearing a sullen expression, seemingly like he had something in his mind, worrying him to his wits’ end. The Crown Prince shifts in his position. From his peripheral view, he can see the Crown Prince turning to the sides to face him, wearing an indecipherable smile on his face. He continues reading, ignoring the playful antics of his prince, trying to hide the smile forming on his lips. The Crown Prince looks better this way, devoid of any worries.
“Indeed, I was in a predicament a few days ago,” Wonwoo is right with his hunch. He cannot be wrong. “I am not obligated to tell you the details, but I can assure you, I feel somewhat reassured because of my cousin. I am surprised you noticed, Wonwoo.” The Crown Prince should have been more surprised if he didn’t take notice. Nine years, almost nearing a decade. Deciphering the Crown Prince’s ever fluctuating temper is almost second nature to him. “You are quite the sharp man, Wonwoo. I am impressed.”
Sharp? He snickers at the comment, prompting him to turn, their faces alarmingly close. The Crown Prince retreats a little, creating a safe distance between the two of them and becomes aware of how a blush of red creeps on the Crown Prince’s full cheeks, but surprisingly, he does not try to hide it in any way. The Crown Prince lets it be, in full display, and while Wonwoo is under no obligation to admire, he just couldn’t stop looking—like there is a strong magnetic force pulling him against his own accord. And it takes a lot of effort on Wonwoo’s side to stop himself from pinching the Crown Prince’s cheeks, to touch his smooth, glowing skin. He is able to hold himself back, right hand already nearing the Crown Prince’s face when he realized what he was about to do. His left hand circles around his right wrist, forcibly pushing it away from the Crown Prince. He could feel his heart thumping, like a thousand soldiers marching under the scorching heat of the sun, the monstrous rhythm of their concerted footsteps resembling the sound of his heartbeat. Thud-thud-thud!
Is this still normal? Or is he running a high fever?
Flashing an unreadable expression in his face to conceal his true emotion, Wonwoo responds. “Not sharp, Your Highness.” If it were anyone else, anyone but the Crown Prince, he would have surely failed to perceive their state of mind. “Isn’t it because I know you the best, Your Highness?” Trying to sound spirited, he matches the Crown Prince’s energy with a quip.
“Such a brazen thing to say, Wonwoo!” Not every day is he like this. But every once in a while, he is willing to indulge the Crown Prince and his whims. “Have you noticed anything else?”
“I am not quite sure what you are hinting at, Your Highness.”
“Then I suppose you don’t know me the best.” The Crown Prince shrugs nonchalantly, like he’s really back to his usual, frisky self, flashing a playful grin in his direction.
Wonwoo thought the Crown Prince was merely joking so he let the comment pass. Only after a few years would he learn that there is more to the Crown Prince’s capriciousness that meets the eyes.
A truth that will bring chaos amidst the existing peace.
Truly, ignorance is bliss.
Minghao coughs to remind the two that he is still in the room with them. With nothing much to do after his private lessons and with permission from the room’s owner—Wonwoo, and the room’s self-proclaimed owner by proxy—his dearest cousin, he was allowed to join a supposedly quiet reading session before they are called up for dinner.
And it’s such a sight to see how stupidly in love those two are with each other, the sound of their heartbeat echoing around the four corners of the room, but only them are unable to hear.
“May I remind the two of you that I am still here.”
“Oops,” In a high-pitched tone, his cousin reacts mischievously. “I am not used to having you around, cousin. Forgive us.”
He rolls his eyes at the two, reclining his back against the chair with still a book in his hand. “I am greatly offended, cousin. Had I known you would be like this, I would not have helped you.”
“You and I both know you do not mean that, cousin. You love me too much to decline my dramatic plea the other day.”
-
Wonwoo will eventually come to understand what he meant.
Soonyoung is free to love.
Soonyoung will allow his feelings to flourish.
Without thinking about the consequences it will have.
It is only human to desire what you cannot have.
-
Despite both men being close to Soonyoung, both making their solemn declaration of unwavering loyalty to the Crown Prince, Jeonghan had never seen Wonwoo as his equal and he is positive that it is the same the other way around. Their relationship, for the lack of a better word, is civil—keeping their animosity towards each other under wraps. What keeps them grounded is the fear of disappointing their ever beloved Crown Prince.
“I heard the conversation you had with your mother last night, Prince Jeonghan,” On his way to the courtyard for his routinary morning practice, Jeonghan gets confronted by the council-in-training, Jeon Wonwoo. “They say you are a loving brother to the Crown Prince, but is that only an act, Prince Jeonghan? Did you gain the Crown Prince’s trust on purpose while scheming his downfall behind his back?”
Last night, his mother, who he had not seen since his transfer to the main palace, paid him a visit. In the letter his mother sent two days ago in utmost secrecy, he was instructed to rendezvous with her in the woods behind the palace square. It didn’t occur to him at first, why his mother wanted to meet with him in the darkest hour of the night, with no one else awake but them (or so he thought). In his heart, he was just excited to see his mother for the first time in ten years. After all, while he is known for his maturity, he is but a child who longs for unconditional love and care from a mother. The Queen doesn’t treat him any differently, making him feel welcomed to stay in the main palace, to think of it as his home. However, he knows that at the end of the day, only their love for Soonyoung, Jungchan, and the King binds them together, not their blood.
“I demand an answer, Prince Jeonghan,” He sees Wonwoo gritting his teeth, threatening him with a punch. “Or I will not hesitate to hurt you.”
Jeonghan swats Wonwoo’s hand away, feeling disrespected. Wonwoo stares at him with contempt, eyes burning with an emotion akin to hate. “You have nothing to worry about, Jeon. I will not lay a hand on my brothers.”
“How can I trust you, Prince Jeonghan? Do you truly have the heart to disobey your mother’s words?” The distrust is obvious in Wonwoo’s tone. But Jeonghan cannot fault him. In reality, they are both strangers to each other, bound together by their promises of undying support for the future King, merely colleagues who share the same, relentless fate.
“She is no longer my mother, Jeon.” It was a bitter truth—to learn that the woman he recognized as his mother was hoping for his brothers’ premature death. “From the moment I discovered what her true intentions were, I cannot look at her the same way again. I cannot think of her as my mother.” Wonwoo’s dark expression softens, but he knows his words aren’t enough to appease such a dedicated, young boy. “I have a mind of my own and I will not become someone who kills his own brothers for a chance at the throne.” Wonwoo must have left even before the younger could witness his firm retaliation against his mother. Otherwise, he would have not felt this extreme hostility towards him. “I am content with what I have now and for that, I have nothing to covet.”
Wonwoo remains silent in his position and it takes an observer like Jeonghan to notice how the younger is slowly lowering his guard around him. The tension on his shoulder seemingly gone. “And if you still cannot believe my words, you can ask the King. I have told the King about my mother’s plan to ruin the succession before I left the main palace this morning.” He cannot let someone who has ill-intent against his brothers to reside within the perimeter of the main. Knowing his mother could commit such an atrocity anytime, it is within their best interest to have her leave as soon as possible. It is his duty to disclose important information especially so if it concerns the future King. “Before this day ends, she will be exiled from the palace square. The royal guards will show her the way out.”
“And I will personally make sure that she will never set foot in here again.” Reuniting with her again after ten years, he expected a brief but joyous reunion. An ‘ I love you’ or a simple ‘I miss you’ would have been enough. Jeonghan was dismayed beyond belief by his mother’s cynical scheme to overthrow the current royal family.
“Have you informed the Queen about this, Prince Jeonghan?”
“I have,” In fact, she is the first to know. With trembling knees, Jeonghan humbly asked an audience with the Queen first thing in the morning. The Queen listened attentively to his concerns and accompanied him to the King’s study. “This matter concerns both of her beloved sons. I believe I have no reason to hide it from her, Jeon.”
To his bewilderment, Wonwoo immediately offers him a bow and words of sincere apology. “I have wronged you, Prince Jeonghan. Please accept my apology.” He rises up, hands on each side of his body, standing upright with his chin up. “Blood is thicker than water, they say. I was afraid you’d abandon my prince for your mother.” How could he betray his little brother? The brother who welcomed him with open arms, the brother who filled in the love he was yearning from his mother. He could never—he would never. “Forgive me for I was only thinking of my prince’s well-being.”
“You are forgiven.” He places a hand on Wonwoo’s broad shoulder, leaning closer to whisper in the younger’s ears his resolve to keep his little brother away from harm’s way. “I appreciate your concern for the Crown Prince, but I can assure you that my loyalty is with the royal family. Not all the time is blood thicker than water, Jeon. Remember that.” He steps away from Wonwoo, preparing to get back on his track, but before he leaves the council-in-training alone and continues on his way, on parting, he says with his firm and serious tone:
“Do not think highly of yourself, Jeon. You are not the only one who cares deeply for my little brother.”
Far from where they stood, Jeonghan halts in his tracks to peek at Wonwoo’s figure.
Mumbling under his breath, he says: “The Crown Prince is fortunate to have you by his side, Jeon.”
Barging in his room and slamming the door behind him, Soonyoung, already in his nightwear, runs to his side, weeping woefully. “I have heard about what happened to your mother, Jeonghan hyung.” Soonyoung looks up to him, eyes glistening with tears, resembling the countless shining stars littered in the skies that cold night. “Is it my fault that she is banished from the palace?”
“No,” Jeonghan assures him, cupping his little brother’s face and wiping his tear-stained cheeks. He places a soft kiss on his forehead to pacify the younger. “It is through her own fault, Soonyoung. She was hatching a plan of great malevolence against you and Jungchan. I cannot just feign ignorance and let harm befall upon you two.”
“But, we could have given her another chance!” Soonyoung cries. He is simply too nice for his own good. His mother has been consumed by greed for power and wealth. Such a person cannot be easily convinced to cease a well-devised plan.
“You cannot run a nation when you’re like this, Soonyoung,” Not all mistakes can be forgiven, not all deserve to be forgotten. “Like I, you should be unyielding—ruthless even against my own mother. This is the choice I’ve made. There is nothing to regret.” His words only made his brother wail even louder. “Oh, my little brother. You are so cute!” Jeonghan exclaims, cooing at how adorable his brother looks. “You have nothing to feel bad about. Soonyoung, my little brother, my Crown Prince—when it comes to your safety, I will not doubt my decision.”
“Why do you love me so much, Jeonghan hyung?”
“Because I am your brother, aren’t I?” He hugs his brother tightly, enveloping him in an affectionate and warm embrace. “You are so loved, Soonyoung. Earlier this morning, Wonwoo came to confront me. You should have seen his face, Soonyoung. You should have seen how he was standing up for you. He was ready to defy me, a prince, a person of a higher status than him.”
“I’m certain that doesn’t mean anything, Jeonghan hyung.” Even if Soonyoung denies it, Jeonghan knows what he saw. It must have been a normal occurrence that Soonyoung sees Wonwoo’s protectiveness as nothing but a show of his loyalty towards him. “He is only fulfilling his duty as my future council. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I know what I saw,” It goes beyond the border of overt devotion. Wonwoo might be an expert in conceiving his true feelings, but there is no fooling Jeonghan. “It was like staring at the mirror, Soonyoung. I could see myself in him—the way I am with Sowon. His eyes were aflame. You should have seen it yourself, Soonyoung.”
“I beg of you,” This is a rare sight to see—his brother desperately pleading, hands clasped tightly as if praying, like it was a situation beyond saving. “Do not keep my hopes up, Jeonghan hyung,” Is he hearing things correctly? He holds Soonyoung’s hand, tucking the loose strands of his hair behind his ears with a look of concern on his face. “How will I be able to handle my feelings if you tell me Wonwoo might be harboring the same affection towards me?”
“Oh, Soonyoung,” He envelopes Soonyoung in a tight hug, chin resting on Soonyoung’s shoulder as he gently pats his back. “I am simply stating what I witnessed.” They break off from the embrace—Jeonghan pursing his lips as he stares at Soonyoung’s mournful expression. “Is this why you evade the topic of marriage, Soonyoung? Because you started seeing Wonwoo in a different light?”
Soonyoung looks away from him and he notices his younger brother swallowing the lump in his throat. “Hyung, I want to follow my heart, just like our Father.” Jeonghan deeply worries for his younger brother—it will not be an easy feat. “I know our situations are not entirely the same because our Father loved a woman and I,” An abrupt pause, followed by a sharp breath. “…towards a man.” The kind of love his brother dearly holds in his heart is unacceptable in their kingdom. He could lose his status, but the worst of all, he might be banished from the palace. “But I want to be honest with myself. I want to tell Wonwoo how I feel and if he chooses to walk away, I am prepared to be left alone. This path—I know from the start, this is a lonely trail.”
“You need not walk alone, Soonyoung.” Jeonghan will not let Soonyoung trudge in solitary. Even if Soonyoung’s heart beats for a boy, Jeonghan will hold his hand and accompany him. Nothing will change. “If my eyes betrayed me and I was wrong in my judgment, you will always have me. We will think of a way.”
Soonyoung sobs, tears falling uncontrollably. “Does anyone else know besides me?”
“Cousin—Minghao knows. H-he was the first one.” Despite stuttering, his brother was able to respond. He wipes away the tears, his thumb smoothing over his younger brother’s cheeks. “And like you, hyung, he doesn’t see me any differently. He accepts me.”
Jeonghan smiles at what he heard. “See? You will never be alone for as long as you have us. If Wonwoo, that bastard,” He grits his teeth, Soonyoung slapping his arms with a pout.
“He’s not a bastard, hyung. I haven’t even told him yet. And I haven’t been rejected yet.” Yet. It seems like Soonyoung has given up before it even started. “And if he turns down my confession, I doubt he will be harsh.”
“You know him better than I do,” Jeonghan pauses, trying to force a smile out of his brother, playfully lifting the corner of his brother’s lips with his thumbs. “But it’s also precisely why you’re overthinking things. The way I see it,” He shrugs. “Maybe the chances are low, but it is never zero. So lift your head up and be confident.”
“Whatever happens, I will always be here for you.”
“Have you seen Jungchan, hyung?”
Soonyoung has searched for their youngest brother in every room, getting tired from scoping Jungchan within the vast area of the main palace. He ultimately decides to take a rest in the kitchen after seeing Jeonghan helping out their servants, sitting on one of the stools across from his brother and propping up his chin in the palm of his left hand. Apparently, his older brother has taken it upon himself to properly learn how to cook a decent meal in an attempt to impress Sowon, trying to eagerly win the maiden’s heart.
“Oh, were you not made aware?” Despite being extremely busy with his hands, Jeonghan manages to give him a swift response. “He is with Father, my Crown Prince. He showed great interest in Father’s affairs as the King and his tutor highly encouraged Father to heed our little brother’s request,” Soonyoung makes a mental note to himself to spare some time for his little brother. Spending most of his time with Wonwoo, unfortunately, he has neglected his duties as Jungchan’s second older brother. He feels bad for not knowing his younger brother’s recent whereabouts. “Jungchan was allowed to accompany our Father to his out-of-town assembly.”
While the younger prince is only second in line to succeed the King, it is expected of him to be prepared to assume the role of a Crown Prince in case the unforeseeable occurs. Jungchan showing great interest in politics should not come off as a surprise to anyone. Rather, it is commendable of him to be enthusiastic in his role at such a young age. He is only fourteen and when Soonyoung was at his age, he still couldn’t grasp the complexities of his title. Jungchan is exhibiting great potential and if they are to explore what more he can offer, he might as well hold a position as one of the future ministers in Soonyoung’s reign.
Soonyoung, on the other hand, despite being the Crown Prince, has never once volunteered to observe the King as he fulfills his duties to his people. Soonyoung may have the aptitude to become a great King, but he is aware that he lacks the attitude for it. To be a great King, Soonyoung believes he must possess both.
“He is different from you and I,” Absentmindedly, he replies. His brother quickly excuses the servant and asks to leave the two of them alone, closing and locking the door behind her without further ado. “Jungchan—he, he seems more fitting of the title, Jeonghan hyung.”
“This is not the place to have this conversation, my Crown Prince,” Jeonghan requests to lower his voice down and he immediately realizes the gravity of his statement. It is not the first time Soonyoung has opened the idea to his brother—what if Jungchan is the Crown Prince and not he? They had the conversation some time after Soonyoung admitted to his brother his budding feelings for his peer—Wonwoo.
“But brother,” He whispers, significantly lowering down the tone of his voice. “It was only a lingering thought of mine in the past,” One night, staring at the ceiling as he laid down beside his older brother, Soonyoung spoke of his fantasy—to live in a place where he is free, unrestrained by the charters that govern his very title; a place where he would not fear to acknowledge a love that cease to exist in his homeland. “But had Jungchan been born before me, I would not be impeded by this predicament.”
“Soonyoung,” Jeonghan moves towards where Soonyoung is and cradles his head in his gentle hands. “You must have forgotten,” Soonyoung is left wondering by his brother’s statement. “Had you bore the title as the second prince, you would have never gotten the opportunity to form a close bond with Jeon Wonwoo.”
“In his eyes, you would have been just any other prince.” It pierced right through Soonyoung’s delicate heart, though his brother had only spoken the truth. Either way, whether he was born as the Crown Prince or as the second prince, there would always be a flaw to subsist in his equation. “Isn’t it better to be born as you are now? At least, this way, you have Wonwoo by your side.”
“Well,” He ponders. “I suppose…” Yet, he still somehow remains unconvinced.
“Have you thought of telling Wonwoo?”
He slips away from his brother’s warm hug, looking up at him with a timid smile on his face. “I plan to, but I cannot seem to find the right timing or how I should go about it.” It is not exactly easy to talk about a taboo, especially when Soonyoung is the Crown Prince, the last person people expect to hear it from.
“Shouldn’t you try asking first? How does he feel about love between the same sex?”
“Oh, wow, brother. I hadn’t thought of that!” Jeonghan signals him to hush, a soft giggle escaping his lips as he realizes how excited he must have been. “Sorry, I just… I felt lost after our last conversation about this. And yes, I feel somehow reassured to have you and Minghao supporting me, but it still is…” Soonyoung couldn’t find the right word to describe what he feels about his situation. “…you understand, right?”
“I understand where you are coming from, Soonyoung. It is only natural to be worried about the uncertain and for that, I wish courage will find its way back to you.”
Back to you. As if his older brother is implying something.
He hums, mumbling a word of gratitude as he snuggles into his brother’s arms.
-
His Crown Prince seems to have been really back to his old, usual self. Wonwoo remains dubious still, taking cursory glances at the Crown Prince from time to time with uneasiness. The Crown Prince seems to have noticed the weight of his stare, prompting him to set his book aside, turning to face him, huffing a puff as he puts his hands on his waist.
“Are you worried about something, Wonwoo?” Wonwoo frantically denies, shaking his head. He tells the Crown Prince to pay him no mind and return to his task, but when has the Crown Prince ever heeded his humble request? “How can I not, Wonwoo? Your brows are furrowed and you are too young to have wrinkles on your forehead.” He irons it away in a haste until they are no longer visible, earning a laugh from his Crown Prince. “You are not to lie to me, Wonwoo. It’s not nothing from how I see it.”
“I was just making sure you are doing well, Your Highness.”
With a sunny, childlike smile on his face, the Crown Prince tells him not to fret, making an effort to relieve his doubts. In the end, he decides to give in. If this is the Crown Prince’s way to ask for space, then who is he to deny his request? “Is it something you cannot tell me, my prince?”
The Crown Prince nods, walking away to lie down on his bed. “At least, not now. Someday, Wonwoo. Allow me to keep it to myself for now.” The ambiguity behind the Crown Prince’s words, instead of casting his suspicions away, make him even more skeptical that he originally is. For all he knows, someday may never come. Nevertheless, he respects the Crown Prince’s wishes. Indeed, the Crown Prince is a public figure, but Wonwoo understands very well that there are things about the prince’s life that he prefers to stay private.
“Can we talk about something else?” Seemingly needing a break for their habitual routine, Wonwoo didn’t find anything wrong to indulge the Crown Prince, responding with what is it, your highness as he flips his chair around to Soonyoung’s direction. “What do you think about my brother and Sowon noona’s prospective betrothal?” Jeonghan’s proposition to court the only daughter of the Deputy Minister of Education has become an open secret in the perimeter of the palace square. Most are in agreement that the two seem to be a good match—Jeonghan, a kind and brilliant gentleman, while Sowon, a wise and modest young lady. “They could hardly contain their glee at the news of my brother courting Sowon noona.”
And honestly, Wonwoo could care less.
They are not the Crown Prince after all.
“If it does not concern you, Your Highness, I don’t see any reason why I should trouble myself with it.”
“Wonwoo, couldn’t you just answer my question?” Before he can respond, the Crown Prince throws another question at him. “Okay, let me ask you a different one. Had they been both girls or both boys, do you think everyone would react the way they did?”
He could only look down and stare at the wooden floor, head hanging low. “N-no, Your Highness. They would be met with criticisms, my prince.”
He couldn’t see the Crown Prince’s face, but the tremble in his voice couldn’t be overlooked. “H-how about you, W-Wonwoo? How would you react… if that was the case?”
Silence. Wonwoo needed time to think, afraid to offend the prince or anyone with his words.
“I guess I know your response to that, Won—” His prince might have misunderstood his silence, hearing melancholy laced in his soft voice. So before the misunderstanding gets out of hand, he interjects.
“No, my prince. Listen to me.”
Once again, silence befalls.
“I believe there are things this Kingdom is yet to accept, Your Highness, so I would like to speak only for myself.” Wonwoo explains and Soonyoung readies himself to hear his confidante’s response. “Love is love—no matter what shape or form it wishes to present itself. Our minds rationalize what it perceives, while our hearts enable us to feel what remains hidden from our view. But between the two, when it comes to love, don’t we find ourselves being led by our hearts?”
Soonyoung almost gasps, finds himself agreeing to Wonwoo. The depth of Wonwoo’s words pierces his chest and tugs at his heart, pulling his heartstrings in ways unimaginable. Wonwoo isn’t just a mere boy, but a man whose heart is devoid of prejudice and discrimination. Whoever may be the receiving end of his pure and genuine love is the luckiest person alive—is what Soonyoung thinks.
“Then, if it is the case, why does one’s biological attributes matter in the affairs of the heart?” There is no way he could look at Wonwoo right now. If he does, his mouth would easily betray him, completely letting down his defenses, confessing right away the moment he sees Wonwoo’s handsome face. He is too perfect—beautiful inside and out.
“I am glad you view it that way, Wonwoo.” He finally speaks once he found his composure. “I feel the same way as you do. I do not wish to pass judgment on people whose heart only yearns what it means to love and be loved.”
“You have a compassionate heart, Soonyoung.” The mention of his name rings in his ears. Wonwoo has never once called him by his given name. His heart flutters like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, ready to explore the garden of flowers, entranced by its natural beauty.
“You said my name, Wonwoo.” He sits up, eyes brimming with tears. Wonwoo comes up to him, sitting down beside him to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheeks ever so softly, gazing fondly at his glistening orbs. He nuzzles his face onto the warmth of Wonwoo’s palms, sniffing as he holds onto Wonwoo’s wrist tightly. “I can’t believe it. You said my name.”
“Are you that happy?”
He hums, attempting to restrain his sniffles to voice out a proper response, albeit to no avail. “W-what made you do that, Wonwoo?”
“It felt like I wasn’t talking to a royalty, Soonyoung,” Twice. Wonwoo said his name twice in a matter of minutes. Oh goodness gracious, Wonwoo! Give my heart a break! “The King and Queen are good people, but like the rest, they do not seem to have the same level of understanding as you do. You are an amazing person, Soonyoung.”
“I am?”
“How do you do that? How do you cage a heart so big in this small body of yours?”
Soonyoung closes his eyes, savoring the warmth of Wonwoo’s hands before he plants a chaste kiss on Wonwoo’s right palm. With a smile spreading across his lips, his eyes flutter open, making eye contact and he says: “Because I, too, am capable of loving, Wonwoo.”
The Crown Prince’s voice was soft, like a lullaby singing him to sleep yet the Crown Prince stared at him with a penetrating gaze, such overpowering intensity, seemingly reaching for the deepest part of his soul, as if… as if he felt a strange yet wonderful feeling with the words that came from his lips.
What exactly was that?
Why does it seem like the Crown Prince was telling him that…?
No, no. Stop overthinking, Wonwoo. It can’t be. Whatever you have in your mind—do not dwell on it.
“I can see that.”
Yet he can’t see it all.
But what Wonwoo didn’t know at that time surely wouldn’t hurt him in the future, would it?
-
With nothing to do during his free time, Soonyoung joins Wonwoo, embarking on an exploratory expedition in the forest within the territory of the palace square. Both are riding each of their own horses with ease, moving from one secluded spot to another. Soonyoung blindly follows, unsure of what Wonwoo is in search of. Nevertheless, his sole purpose is just to relieve his boredom, and might as well accompany Wonwoo in his morning agenda.
He is behind Wonwoo, marveling at his broad shoulders and back. Since when did Wonwoo transform from an awkward and lanky boy to a robust and herculean teen? How come he only noticed it now?
“You’re quiet, my prince,” He snaps his head to the direction of Wonwoo’s voice, closing his mouth that was previously opened ajar, when he was ogling at the stunning work of art in front of him. “You’re staring into space,” Wrong, I was staring at you.
“You must be famous with the ladies,” The words just came out, even before he realized what his words suggested. But he means every word he says. It would be absurd if no one had their eyes on Wonwoo. Among the daughters of the current ministers, there must be two or three of them discreetly trying to make a move, seeking ways to approach Wonwoo and lay out their intentions.
Oh well, too bad for them. It is such a rarity to witness Wonwoo alone, without him by his side.
Wonwoo’s soft chuckles resonate in his ears, a calming sound in the eerily quiet surrounding. “What brought that on, my prince? I didn’t expect to hear that from you.” Truly, it is proving to be difficult to hide his feelings, when every single day, he finds more reasons to fall in love with Wonwoo. Effortless is to fall; challenging it is to stand up once again. If Soonyoung is still in denial, he would have blamed it on science. This is the work of gravity— he would dare say.
“Has no one ever tried to match you with their daughters?” If his older brother, Jeonghan, has begun to enact his ploy to win the heart of Sowon and increase the likelihood at a possible engagement, it is not unlikely that Wonwoo had started his moves. If not him, it could have been the ministers who offered their daughters as a possible candidate for marriage.
Wonwoo guides his horse, shifting around so they’d face each other. Soonyoung feels his cheeks heating up as Wonwoo examines him, narrowing his eyes with apparent confusion. Regardless, Wonwoo is kind enough to divulge the truth in full detail. “The Minister of Commerce communicated his intentions to my Father around three weeks ago. He wanted to marry off either of his three daughters to me.” The three daughters, triplets at birth, are known for their remarkable beauty. But they not only boast of their natural beauties, but their wisdom as well.
The confidence he had a while ago is suddenly gone. The triplets awe everyone with their beauty and wisdom.
I am nothing compared to them.
Downtrodden at the revelation, Soonyoung heaves a long sigh, holding the reins with much tension and his horse dashes away, but groans with pain. Soonyoung quickly realizes this and stops, apologizing and brushing the area around its neck. He looks behind and sees Wonwoo rushing to his place. There is quite a distance between them. “I’m sorry, my baby. I got carried away. I think… I think I got jealous.”
“My prince!” Wonwoo shouts from a distance, his voice getting louder as he moves closer to him. Soonyoung stays, waiting for him to arrive, feeling a tinge of guilty for leaving him behind. But could someone blame him? Jealousy is such a frightening feeling. “Why did you run off like that? You are not familiar with this terrain.” It is Soonyoung’s first time in the deep parts of the forest, mostly roaming around with his beloved horse within the two kilometer radius allowed for solitary quests.
“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your future bride-to-be?” He mumbles forlornly, drawing a deep breath before moving away with his horse, creating a gap between them once again. “Why are you spending so much time with me, Wonwoo?”
“Were you jealous, my prince?” Wonwoo catches up to him, stopping him in his tracks as he blocks his way, unable to advance. Face to face, Soonyoung feels embarrassment creeping from his spine, manifesting through his reddened cheeks. “Were you afraid I’d be spending less time with you once I got engaged?” Wonwoo is teasing him and it is such a peculiar scene, as it is usually the other way around.
He huffs a breath, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending to be annoyed. “No.” Denying with all his might, but he hiccups, inadvertently giving himself away. Wonwoo is visibly muffling his laughter and in response, he sends him an accusatory glare. “It is up to you whether you will believe me or not, Wonwoo. I didn’t think you had it in you though. It is hard to believe that you have no faith in your sire.”
“Now, now. That is unfair, my prince. Using your title to make me surrender?” This is how they have always been. Soonyoung feels a sense of relief washing away his prior worries. Aware of his immense feeling for his friend, he didn’t know how to present himself before him without awkwardness wrapping his whole self. But, being himself in front of Wonwoo, is as natural as breathing is for every living being. He might have forgotten how to do it momentarily, but freeing his mind of worries, he suddenly remembers all. “But to make you feel at ease, please know that marriage is the least of my priority,”
“And you, my prince, my number one.” Delusion has not taken over Soonyoung’s mind—yet. Not yet. He knows how to draw the line between illusion and reality. Otherwise, he would think of Wonwoo’s words as a sincere confession of love, but he knows, Wonwoo’s words could be nothing more than a mere assurance of his loyalty to a royal prince. It was not intended as a confession for a feeling stronger than loyalty.
“If you say something like that, I might get the wrong idea.” He looks away, afraid to meet Wonwoo’s eyes. One moment he was okay; the next second, he wasn't. “You shouldn’t say words like that ever so lightly, Wonwoo. You shouldn’t say words you don’t mean.”
“Everything I have spoken of, my prince, is nothing but the truth.”
“So this is why they say the truth hurts more than lies ever would,”
Wonwoo couldn’t understand.
Why is he hurting his Crown Prince?
There are no tears flowing from the Crown Prince’s mesmerizing orbs, but Wonwoo feels Soonyoung’s heart bleeding from the inside.
“How am I hurting you, my prince?” It was never in his intention to cause pain to the one person, apart from his family, who he genuinely cares for. So… how? What did he do to wound the Crown Prince’s heart?
“Your words—they make me realize that what I yearn for is impossible.” What is it that you long for, my prince?
“Something I can’t even resolve, my prince?”
“Your words make it harder to resolve, Wonwoo.” He thinks hard, wracking every part of his brain. Did his words earlier offend his prince? But earlier, the prince was riding along his teasing, wasn’t he?
“Then… What should I do? If my honesty is causing you such great pain, would you rather I lie to you instead, my prince?”
“That would be better.” It is such a bitter pill to swallow—to come to a realization that all he said before, about knowing the Crown Prince the best out of all, is nothing more than a show of his arrogance.
“But you know I can’t… I can’t do that to you.”
“You have no choice, Wonwoo. You have to do that for me. It’s getting harder to keep everythi—”
“Then tell me everything, my prince. I will listen to you. Like I always do.”
“You are not yet prepared for my truth, Wonwoo.”
“Will that time come, my prince? A time where I am ready to hear your honest truth?”
“No, I don’t think so… I don’t think that time will ever come.”
“W-what difference does it make, my prince? I-If you believe that I am not yet in a state of readiness now,” Comes Wonwoo’s restrained voice, like someone was strangling his neck with a tight rope. Every time Wonwoo moves closer, Soonyoung retreats, backing away with his beloved ride. “...and I won’t ever be even in the future, so tell me everything now, Soonyoung.” If Wonwoo calls his prince by his name, would he find it in himself to change his mind?
“Then you left me no choice, Wonwoo.” Wonwoo feels an inexplicable pang in his chest, like a bullet shot straight to his heart without a warning. “I like you, Wonwoo. No,” Soonyoung shakes his head and his expression softens once their gazes meet again, but his eyes are already glistening with tears. “I love you.” There are tears falling uncontrollably from the Crown Prince’s eyes, dampening his already flushed cheeks. Soonyoung rubs his eyes thoughtlessly and when his eyes flutter open, he blinks blearily with each noiseless, heart-rending sob, chest heaving up and down with each pained and shaky breath.
Wonwoo couldn’t bear to look at his Crown Prince.
Oh, how difficult it must have been for you to keep it all to yourself, my prince.
But why…? Why was he not surprised hearing these at all? Was he expecting it from the Crown Prince—from his prince ? Is this why he fell into tears, too, a few nights ago? Is this why he was asking so many questions that night when Wonwoo sensed something was amiss with his Crown Prince?
“W-would you please say something, Wonwoo? I-I wouldn’t mind getting rejected right here, right now.” Wonwoo wanted to reach for his prince, to wipe his tears away, but would it be right to do so? Would it be right for him to caress the Crown Prince’s cheeks—by the same person who caused his tears to fall?
“Allow me to think carefully about this, my prince.” It is easy to say that the heart should take precedence in matters of love. But if it is the prince, the next in line to the throne, is the one whose heart beats for someone he should not have grown affection for, whether he accepts or rejects, it must be done after thoughtful consideration.
He feels the same fear, the hesitation. After all, if he would be honest to himself, he might have loved the Crown Prince first.
You are unaware, Wonwoo, but you’re hurting me again with your kindness.
The rest of their time together was spent in heavy silence.
-
Days become weeks; weeks turn into months; and months eventually turn into a year.
“Soonyoung,” His older brother, Jeonghan, sits on his bed, reaching for the pillow behind his back and embraces it. “Shouldn’t Wonwoo have an answer by now?” A year has passed since the confession happened, but neither he or Wonwoo has brought it up again.
“But if you think about it, Jeonghan hyung,” Together with him and his older brother is Minghao. With the Queen’s permission, his older brother and cousin were allowed to sleep in his room that night, a bonding of some sort and a break from their exhausting royal duties. “Isn’t the situation promising for Soonyoung hyung?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at their cousin, giving him questioning looks. The look of distrust on his brother’s face made the two of them laugh, earning them a death glare from the older. “Before you look at me like that, allow me to explain, dear cousin.”
“Look—I’m not saying this with utmost certainty, Soonyoung hyung, but there is a reason why Wonwoo hyung is stalling his response. I believe Wonwoo hyung might be feeling the same way as you do.” With all these hand gestures, one would think Minghao is in the middle of an argument, coming up with an impromptu speech to persuade him to hear his side.
Soonyoung looks confused, knitted eyebrows a physical evidence of his befuddlement.
“He treats you so well, cousin, more so after your confession.” If that is his cousin’s basis, then Wonwoo holds the same affection for everyone.
Releasing a deep sigh, he responds. “He is kind to everyone, Hao.”
“But I don’t think he would’ve canceled his plans last minute if I were the one who got sick on the day of his eighteenth birthday, cousin.” It was planned weeks ahead, Wonwoo’s mother and little sister were scheduled to come to the main palace where the small celebration will take place. In the end, they moved the small get-together at a later date to ensure his health had gone back to tip-top shape and would surely be able to attend. He felt guilty, but Wonwoo had constantly assured him that he wouldn’t have it any other way. Wonwoo sought his presence, saying he felt the celebration would feel incomplete with his absence.
“When you fell ill, he stayed by your side, dabbing your skin with wet cloth to lower down your temperature. He wouldn’t want to leave your side even if we promised to take care of you on his behalf.” True enough, Soonyoung woke up the next morning with Wonwoo crouched over his bedside. Wonwoo roused awake with Soonyoung’s slightest movements—like it hadn’t been too long since he fell asleep, like he really stayed all night to care for him.
“That was one time, Hao.”
“But that’s not all the things he has done for you and for you exclusively, cousin.” Minghao replies with an emphasis on the word exclusively, implying Wonwoo has preferential treatment over him. “That is only to name a few.”
When he got injured during a practice round of swordsmanship against Mingyu, Wonwoo rushed to his aid, pushing Mingyu aside, yelling at the royal guards to act in a haste and call the royal physician while he administered first aid as he lay in wait. It was only a small cut, yet Wonwoo acted like he was facing death. And Minghao’s right—Soonyoung’s fingers wouldn’t be enough to count all what Wonwoo did for him willingly, worryingly.
“I can go on and on, cousins, and the list will just get longer.” Minghao says matter-of-factly, plopping down on Soonyoung’s bed looking all smug. Jeonghan throws the pillow on his face, making these weird faces one wouldn’t imagine Jeonghan would be making. After all, he has an image to uphold. Minghao hurls the pillow back at Jeonghan and they start fooling around like the youngsters they are.
“But hyung, kidding aside, don’t you agree with me?”
“I do… I just hate that Wonwoo is making my dear brother wait.”
“But hyung,” Soonyoung squeezes in the middle, looking left and right before saying his piece. “I understand him. If you remember, it also took me a while to admit to myself that I like, no— love,” he corrects himself. “…that I love him more than a friend.”
“Can you really be patient, Soonyoung? You’re not the most patient person I know.”
“Hyung!” He audibly gasps, as if scandalized by what he heard. His older brother and cousin both laugh at him teasingly.
Well… it’s not like Jeonghan hyung is lying.
-
On Wonwoo’s way back to the main palace, after obtaining permission from his father to join his mother on her journey back to her hometown, Jeonghan intercepts him as he was walking, grabbing his wrist firmly and dragging him into Minghao’s room. The Crown Prince has a personal appointment with an esteemed tailor, commissioning customized hanboks for daily wear and for occasions. The older prince seized the opportunity to confront him in Soonyoung’s absence.
“I believe you know the exact reason why I dragged you here, Jeon.”
“This is about the Crown Prince… isn’t it?”
Minghao only observes, sitting on the end of his bed as his eyes travel back and forth between him and Jeonghan in curiosity. Minghao’s presence confirms Wonwoo’s hunch—the Crown Prince places his trust on Minghao as much as he trusts him and his older brother. However, Prince Jungchan’s lack of presence does not necessarily mean a sign of distrust. The Crown Prince may have deemed him too young to understand the complexities of human feelings.
“What are your intentions, Jeon? Why are you prolonging my brother’s agony?”
“I do not want to decide rashly, Prince Jeonghan.”
“Is a year not enough, Jeon? I cannot stand seeing my brother enduringly wait in vain.” Soonyoung acts as if nothing has changed between them, as if the confession had not taken place. Sometimes, there were awkward moments—the Crown Prince flinching when their elbows touched or when Wonwoo felt the Crown Prince’s breath against his skin. “Do you not feel an ounce of guilt? Taking my brother’s sincerity for granted?”
He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw in frustration. Of all people, he thought Jeonghan would understand. The Crown Prince has an important role to play in the future. Wonwoo cannot hinder what has been set in stone from the moment of Soonyoung’s birth.
“If you were in my position, Prince Jeonghan, would you have responded right away?” Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. “If I professed my feelings to the Crown Prince, it would do more harm than good. Eventually, he would have to find a bride fitting of his status. The two of us would have no future together, Prince Jeonghan.”
The prince and his cousin seem unperturbed by his confession. As if they were expecting it from him the whole time.
“Soonyoung worries of the same things,” Of course, he would. No people in their sane mind would commit such an act considered as an atrocity in their nation. “But he decided to let go and let live. He bared his feelings for you, Jeon.” Why can’t you do the same? Is that what the Prince would ask him next? “Because I am here… Minghao’s here. We will think of a way. Together, Jeon. You and Soonyoung are not alone. You still have three years before Soonyoung turns twenty-one. There is plenty of time to turn the tides in our favor.”
“I am not fond of you, Jeon. I feel chills all over my body at the thought of working together with you.” Wonwoo could certainly feel that. “But for my brother, I am willing to swallow my pride.”
“Give me a little more time, Prince Jeonghan.”
“Don’t take too long, Jeon.”
“I can’t promise anything, Prince Jeonghan.”
“You can reject him, you know? All we ask of you is not to be cruel.”
Well, that’s the thing. It’s not easy. Not when Wonwoo feels an awful pang in his chest, like a sharp tip of the bow pierced on his beating heart, at the thought of doing so.
-
“Wonwoo,”
“Wonwoo,”
It is not until his mother went up to him and tapped him by the shoulder that he roused from his contemplation of his seemingly unfortunate altercation with the Crown Prince’s older brother, only a few days before his untimely trip with his mother to pay his ailing maternal grandfather a visit.
“What is bothering you, son?” His gaze lands at the array of exquisite flowers his late grandmother had so dearly cared for when she was alive. They had grown abundant—a sign that his weakening grandfather had continued to tend to them despite pretending to be indifferent about it around the time of his grandmother’s passing.
“I do not think it is appropriate for me to stand beside the Crown Prince anymore,” His mom sits beside him, staring at the same scenery as him as she listens to his every word.
“Wonwoo, son, what has brought you to say that?”
Jeonghan had a point. The Crown Prince has been sincere with his confession, has continued to act like it has always been around him, and has never forced him to respond to his feelings. Instead, the Crown Prince has demonstrated maturity and patience. He is but a nobody to make the Crown Prince wait in vain. And if he does not intend to hurt the Crown Prince with his indecisiveness, he should detach himself from the Crown Prince as early as he can. Only if it were as easy as that.
“Are the expectations becoming so unbearable lately, my son?”
The choice is between his duty and his heart and he was raised as a utilitarian. It should be a simple decision to make as it requires only a straightforward answer. It should have just been black and white—but Soonyoung came and suddenly there was an array of colors to choose from. The fulfillment of his duty should come before anything else—he is well aware of this. It would benefit the greater good, but he knows, he will hurt the one person he felt a love so familiar, yet so different—one of which is not accepted within their kingdom.
“Mother—” He calls for his mother, his soft voice flowing along the gush of wind as he rests his head on his mother’s shoulder. “Do you think, if Father were to choose between saving his family leaving everyone else behind or everyone in the kingdom except his family, would Father rather be a selfless martyr or be branded as a selfish traitor…”
“I think, in the face of cruelty, we would always choose to protect our own kin first. It’s a natural instinct, I suppose. But I believe, your Father will find a way to protect as many people as he can.”
“What if I can’t be like Father? What if, in the face of jeopardy, I will choose to abandon my duty instead?”
“Are you afraid of breaking your promise to protect the Crown Prince?” Quite the contrary, Wonwoo thinks. He would go leaps and bounds to ensure the Crown Prince’s safety and happiness even if it meant he would need to turn his back against the nation—to betray his country’s very own principle. But is that a rightful thing to do? If he makes up his mind to pursue the Crown Prince’s happiness, which is his too as well, he would commit the greatest theft against the nation—to rob them of their future King.
“No, Mother. I am afraid of betraying this nation in pursuit of the Crown Prince’s well-being.”
“But you have no duty to this nation yet. You are not your Father, Wonwoo, and the Crown Prince is yet to be a King. Until such time, you are no more than a mere child.” He feels a hand running gentle circles on his back, soothing him. “If anything, the Crown Prince is your biggest obligation. And if what you said is true, that you are only in pursuit of the Crown Prince’s bliss, then I see it as you being true to your commitment. Nothing else should matter.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I trust that you know what to do next.”
-
A few weeks had passed since, but even then, nothing had changed. Wonwoo is still undecided while the Crown Prince waits.
Today, together with Seungcheol and Mingyu, they are accompanying the prince for a practice round of archery. The prince scheduled a practice with his brothers and his cousin, but since they have been advised by the family physician, Seungcheol’s father, to take a rest and recover their lost strength after being sick with high fever, the prince decided to ask them to join in his brothers’ and cousin’s stead, making up an unconvincing excuse that it would be a bore if he were at the outdoor archery range, practicing on his own. Nevertheless, the Crown Prince knew Wonwoo could not refuse him, so here they are, like a chaperone to the prince.
Standing a few feet away from the prince, the three councils-in-training are observing the prince’s stance, in awe with his breathtaking performance, hitting the innermost circle three times in a row. “Despite his regal look, the Crown Prince is actually quite adorable, isn’t he?” Wonwoo’s eyes, upon hearing those words from Seungcheol, automatically come to pursue Soonyoung’s every move, taking notice how the Crown Prince puckered his crimson lips and how his soft cheeks bunched up high as he focused on his target, eyes squinted into a fine line for what he assumed is to achieve a better view.
“Keep those impure thoughts to yourself,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue, snatching his bow from Mingyu to prepare for his turn. Soonyoung has seven arrows left before he comes back and takes shelter under the shade of the big, old oak tree together with the rest. “It was presumptuous of you to call Your Highness such names.” Says Wonwoo, scolding the older male for acting uncharacteristic of him, his focus slightly askew, surprised that the first time Seungcheol ever talked to them during a practice session of archery, when he is quiet most of the time, is to praise the Crown Prince’s undeniably, captivating looks.
Seungcheol raises a brow at him, hitting Mingyu’s arm, shaking his head in disbelief, snickering. “You accompany the prince every single day—I refuse to believe you are not seeing what we are seeing. Look at the prince,” Seungcheol holds his chin firmly, turning it towards where the prince is. “You are blind if you can’t see it. I might have to drag you to my father’s clinic and have him examine your eyes.”
Seungcheol should tell him something he doesn’t know of yet. Like what the older had said, he spends most of his time by the Crown Prince’s side, it is impossible for him to ignore such beauty the Crown Prince possesses, but he must—he must force himself to. There are lines one is forbidden to cross. Forbidden but tempting, and Wonwoo is only a step away from breaching the point of no return.
“Why do you look so red, Wonwoo? Are you sensitive towards the heat now?”
“No, I’m no—!”
“Wonwoo, you’re next!” The Crown Prince calls for him. He could avoid it for now, but Mingyu is already onto him. Without a doubt, there will be a myriad of questions awaiting him at their next sparring class.
-
“I am in awe of your beauty, Your Highness.”
Those are the first few words Soonyoung heard before he decided to open his eyes. Wonwoo must have thought he was still fast asleep. His eyes flutter open, a smile making its way on his lips—Wonwoo is right in front of him, about to reach for his face. He notices how Wonwoo immediately pulls his hand away, hiding it behind his back, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Y-you were awake, Your Highness?” Soonyoung couldn’t miss the slight tremble in Wonwoo’s voice. He raises his head and sits up, stretching his limbs before darting his gaze towards a nervous Wonwoo.
“I heard what you said, Wonwoo.” It is the first time he heard Wonwoo praise his appearance. “Am I really beautiful as you say, Wonwoo?”
“One can’t simply deny your beauty, Your Highness. Even Seungcheol hyung is mesmerized by your natural charms.” He feels warmth spreading on his cheeks. He was expecting Wonwoo to deny—to simply brush it off as him having very vivid hallucinations from having just woken up from his nap.
“I was never made aware of it, but if it is coming from you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Have you not seen yourself in the mirror, Your Highness? The servants have been talking—how you’re a mirror image of your mother especially when she was younger.”
“Then, who is more beautiful—I or my mother?”
“I cannot simply compare and I choose not to answer, Your Highness.”
“You are no fun, Wonwoo!”
“You possess a beauty, one of which is incomparable to the Queen. There is no such thing as more beautiful, but I would have to say that your face is better suited to my taste.”
“Am I your type then?”
“I dare say, you should know it by now, my prince.” Soonyoung is caught off guard by the natural progression of their conversation—or is this coquetry? Is Wonwoo flirting with him? Is it okay to expect a positive answer from Wonwoo by the end of this conversation? Is the wait finally over? Will there be a need for a celebration before this day ends? To commemorate something like—
“We are not in a literature class right now. I asked you a straightforward question which means I need a straightforward answer.”
“The same way that we are not in a court of justice—you cannot implore me to answer such a question, Your Highness.” Wonwoo is savvy with his remark and Soonyoung wonders how to get a candid response from him.
“If I were a princess, would you want me, Wonwoo?” Would Wonwoo have responded with an unsparingly honest truth if he were not a prince?
Wonwoo kneels in front of him on one knee and places a hand over Soonyoung’s, thumb gently brushing over his knuckle. Not too long after, Wonwoo looks up to him with soft eyes. “It does not matter. For as long as you are the same person, whether you are born a princess or a prince, I would want you. In spite of, despite anything, and regardless—I want you, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo wants him!
“And yes to your first question, my prince. You are my type.” God! He must be dreaming right now!
“W-wonwoo—I’d like to see you do something about my erratic heartbeat right now.” It is not a request, but an order. Wonwoo has no option to refuse.
Wonwoo turns away, seemingly afraid to meet his gaze. He should have lowered his expectations. “Apologies, my prince. It is time for me to join Seungcheol hyung and explore the woods. I will make it up to you some other time.”
Wonwoo, you are all bark and no bite.
A tear escapes, but he quickly wipes it away before Wonwoo could notice it. “How I wish I was born a princess. I wish to be wed to someone like you. I need not think about the nation. I need not think about how the council will look at me—at us. I’d be willing to succumb into this wicked game of politics. It would have been easier being a princess so I can be with you.” Even if Wonwoo accepts him for who he is, it is a fact that Wonwoo would have less reservations if Soonyoung were a princess.
“We cannot wish to change the past, my prince. I shouldn’t have had this talk with you—I am just making you confused. As a future member of your council, I ought to be more careful. I should have known it is not right to discuss this with you.”
“Are you leaving just like this, Wonwoo?”
“I suppose I am, Your Highness.”
If you had no plans to act upon your feelings towards me, it would have been better if you lied and rejected me.
Is this the path you’ve chosen for me—for us?
Earlier, he might have spoken too soon.
There is nothing to commemorate, but he will always remember a love lost.
There is no future for them, only because Wonwoo refuses to imagine. He sees only a shortsighted vision, because maybe, between the two of them, Wonwoo is never the dreamer. Always the realist.
-
The perfunctory knocks against the wooden door of Soonyoung’s chamber disturbed the quiet of the night.
“Your Highness,”
“Who is it?” He asks, even though he doesn’t need to. He knows the owner of the voice—it is nearly impossible for him to forget that deep, raspy voice. Two weeks wouldn’t be enough to dismiss from his attentive mind that charismatic tone, not when they spent almost everyday for a decade together. He rubs his lazy eyes, discarding his blanket away. He hasn’t been asleep for too long. If it were anyone else, he would’ve been repulsive, he would’ve told them to come back some other time.
But he holds a certain degree of affection for Wonwoo, even if it hasn’t been the best two weeks for them both. For the time being, it is his cousin who serves as his academic companion.
“Come in,” Wonwoo comes into sight, still in his hanbok, closing the door behind him carefully. “Are there royal guards outside?”
“None, Your Highness.” After Soonyoung turned eighteen, his Father became somewhat lenient. The King relocated the royal guards who used to watch over his chamber at bedtime as a fulfillment of his promise to his young son. Soonyoung demanded privacy and so the King granted.
There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, the way Wonwoo went back to calling him Your Highness doesn’t sit too well with him. At the very least, Soonyoung wanted to be called my prince. “I see. I guess Father had been true to his words.”
“And why is it that you have come here, Wonwoo?”
“I wanted to speak with you, Your Highness.”
“Can’t it wait till tomorrow, Wonwoo?”
“I would be joining the other councils-in-training for an expedition in the woods near the village. We have received a report that a group of wild boars are roaming around, posing threats to the villagers. And because of that, I will be quite occupied starting tomorrow, Your Highness.”
“Well then,” Soonyoung pauses, placing his hands atop his lap. “You may continue, Wonwoo.” It will take some time for him to get used to the formality. Wonwoo addresses him with such courtesy so unfamiliar to him. And he is not, in any way, trying to demean Wonwoo’s attitude towards him prior to their dispute. Soonyoung only feels as if the gap between them had grown bigger, and even if he extends his hand to reach for Wonwoo, it feels as though Wonwoo is no longer within his grasp.
“Have you really made up your mind, Your Highness?”
“What are you talking about, Wonwoo?”
“You declined to meet the princess of the neighboring nation.”
“Did my Father ask you to convince me to find a suitable bride-to-be? Father told me to take my time, why is he doing this now?” Soonyoung is growing livid. It was a mistake to expect that Wonwoo visited his chamber after two weeks with no communication to make amends. Wonwoo had no such intention. Instead, Wonwoo is trying to push him further away. Is he now a vassal of the current King and not his? Why is Wonwoo purposely creating a rift between the two of them?
“Do not get mad at the King, Your Highness. I simply heard the King worrying about you. I did this on my own accord.”
Soonyoung scoffs at Wonwoo’s explanation, rolling his eyes, not even trying to hide his irritation and disdain. With gritted teeth, he curls his fist into a ball, fingers digging into his palm with force, and marches towards Wonwoo, looking up at him and shaking his head in utter disappointment. “And what of the King’s worries, Wonwoo? Have you forgotten I am hurting too? And besides, I do not think it is fair for the princess to travel miles away from her homeland when I am certain nothing could ever change my decision. I am sparing her the heartbreak, Wonwoo, while tending mine.”
He brings a finger to Wonwoo’s chest and points at his heart.
“Unlike you.” Putting emphasis on you, his unwavering cadence conveys the frustration building up inside of him, the pain then exploding in his chest.
“Do not lump me in the same category as you.”
“I—I,” Wonwoo can only look down, seemingly embarrassed to meet his gaze. He was taken aback by the quaver in Wonwoo’s voice, the guilt eating him alive.
“You may now take your leave, Wonwoo.” How is he any different? He caused Wonwoo pain, too. He let his emotions get the best of him. “Be careful in the woods. I hope you return in good health.”
“I’m sorry,”
“…Soonyoung.”
-
They arrived at the transient four hours later. They embarked around four in the morning, hoping to arrive at the village before noon.
“We’re here,” Seungcheol announces as he gets off his horse. Mingyu surveys the place the moment he sets foot on the land. Wonwoo stays quiet, patting his companion for the safe trip. “I’m going to find the village chief. We need to get a view of the whole situation to assess what we need to do.”
“I can accompany you if you want,” Wonwoo volunteers. While Seungcheol talks with the village chief, he can roam around to ask the villagers. He is timid by nature, but he can step up if needed. “I am useless in the kitchen. Mingyu will only see me as a bother.” Though he’s quite skilled with his sword, cutting through the training dummies with his brute force, using a knife is out of the question. You can ask him to cut wood, but mincing garlic is not up his alley. “Wait… hyung, there’s someone,” He says, pointing at the big, old tree a few meters away from their place. “Right there. Did you see him?”
Seungcheol turns around, shaking his head. “I see no one, Wonwoo.” The older lad places a hand on his shoulder. “You must be tired. I think you should just rest. I can deal with the village chief on my own.”
“But I definitely saw someone… or not.” There’s no one. That’s strange. He must be seeing things due to exhaustion. “Then I’ll take you up on that offer, hyung.”
-
Seungcheol and Mingyu cornered him in his room at the transient before they set out on their journey to return to the palace. They are to go back earlier after accomplishing the task assigned to them in just three days—to capture the group of wild boars wreaking havoc in the village with minimal to no casualties.
“There is something amiss about you and the Crown Prince,” Seungcheol says, earning a nod of agreement from Mingyu. “I was taken aback by the Crown Prince’s absence at our send-off, Wonwoo. Usually, he’d be at the front line, waving his hands enthusiastically as he shouts, bidding us a goodbye and hoping for our safe return.”
In this aspect, Wonwoo envies the Crown Prince. At least he has Prince Jeonghan and his cousin to confide in without the fear of being judged, of being viewed with contempt. Both Seungcheol and Mingyu have proven themselves to be sterling individuals with pleasing personalities, but to what extent do they tolerate?
“It’s nothing,” He assures them, flashing them a smile so as to not worry his peers. “We just had a little misunderstanding—the Crown Prince and I, but it’s nothing a genuine apology can’t solve.” He’s lying through his teeth. If a simple apology would have cut it, it would’ve been resolved by now. It would’ve been settled before anyone could notice the dreadful impasse troubling them.
“It isn’t nothing, hyung.” Mingyu bites his lips, playing with the hem of his hanbok, then pouting, sulking like a little kid whose candy got taken away. “This shouldn’t be about how I feel, but I feel sad that you keep everything to yourself.” Mingyu stares at him with desolate and disenchanted eyes and all. “Why won’t you tell us anything, hyung? Are we not trustworthy in your eyes?”
Wonwoo sees the way Seungcheol nudged Mingyu. “Mingyu, we’ve talked about this, haven’t we? We have agreed to let it be if Wonwoo isn’t comfortable to share his woes with us.” Seungcheol reaches for his shoulder, placing his hand, a soft yet firm touch. “But I do agree with this little rascal. We want to help you, Wonwoo, yet we don’t know how.”
Sincerity is laced in every word they spoke of. Still, he finds it hard to trust. After all, this also involves the Crown Prince and a secret that would shake the whole nation—a love frowned upon, shamed in their land. He could bear the weight of it all, but it is a different story to get his beloved Crown Prince involved. “I appreciate the thoughtful gesture,” He heaves a low sigh as his shoulder slumps in defeat. “But I can’t just disclose—”
“—the fact that you love the Crown Prince and he feels the same way for you? Yet you don’t have the courage to face your feelings?” Mingyu interjects and is non-stop with his words, not even giving him the time to react. Seungcheol does damage control, covering the younger’s mouth with his hand before he could say more. Mingyu struggles to remove the hand despite being bigger than Seungcheol. Only when Mingyu promised to shut up is when Seungcheol withdrew his hand, giving him a distrusting look.
“H-how—?”
“How did we know?” Mingyu barks out a laugh. His question seemingly got the younger male in disbelief. “How can we not know, hyung? If anything, we might have realized it before the two of you did! Honestly, it was so difficult to pretend we didn't know anything, hyung.”
“The elders may not notice the way your stare lingers longingly at the Crown Prince or how the Crown Prince blushes whenever you lay your eyes at him for too long, but we do, Wonwoo. We grew up together, the four of us. We have spent more time with each other than with our families. Do you really think we would fail to notice?” This time, it was Seungcheol who spoke and explained.
“You know and yet you still want to aid me?”
“Why do you sound surprised, Wonwoo?” Seungcheol sounds disappointed, but it couldn’t be helped. They were taught that romantic love only exists between a man and a woman. Any transgression should be forsaken and penalized. It is natural for doubts to arise, especially when this is the first time they’ve talked about this unbreakable taboo.
“Why are you not disgusted? Why are you so normal about this?”
“Don’t take our brotherhood ever so lightly, Wonwoo.” It was a threat guised as advice, but Wonwoo appreciates the assurance. “Make up your mind before it is too late. Whatever it is and whatever you decide on, you will always have our support.”
“The only thing you have to fear is regret, hyung. Love is such a wonderful thing.”
“Thank you, hyung. You too, Mingyu, you have my gratitude.” He had no one but himself, while Soonyoung had the eldest prince and his younger cousin. It is one thing about the Crown Prince that he envies. All he needs, maybe, are people like Jeonghan and Minghao whom he found in his childhood friends, Seungcheol and Mingyu. He still fears the uncertain future, but is brave enough to conquer his doubts.
“Group hug!” The younger yells, launching himself and all of his weight against his two older friends.
“Get off of me, Mingyu! You are as heavy as a bull!”
Wonwoo laughs and it has been a while since he did. He truly is grateful for their friendship.
Maybe, it is worth taking a gamble, before it is too late to try.
Wait for me, Soonyoung.
-
“Hyung,” Minghao came knocking on the door of his bedroom. Before he could even reply back, Minghao dashes inside, looking frantic. “Wonwoo hyung, Seungcheol hyung, and Mingyu are expected to arrive today before the sun sets.”
“What?!” Soonyoung is laying sick in his bed, looking like death warmed over him as he contracted a high fever after being drenched with the heavy downpour of rain. “Wonwoo can’t see me like this!” Wonwoo can’t know I got sick because I was worrying about him. “What should I do, Hao? What should I do? I look terrible!”
“You know, hyung, for someone who is not on the best terms with Wonwoo hyung right now—you care too much about him.” Minghao chides him, but he knows it is nothing short of a joke.
“I’m disappointed, mad—whatever,” He admits, sniffing and sneezing loudly due to his colds. “But I can’t just stop caring about him, can I?”
“Oh, cousin, you are madly in love.”
“I am a hopeless case, am I not?”
“I am still hoping for the best, cousin. After all, it is not too late for Wonwoo hyung to change his mind.”
His cousin’s words silenced him. He knew it is better not to expect anything, for it will hurt less in return. He had to learn it the hard way.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.” Soonyoung smiles, telling his cousin he did nothing wrong. “You don’t have to worry about Wonwoo hyung. Just focus on getting better. I’ll tell him he is not allowed to enter your room. I might have to ask Jeonghan hyung to arrange for royal guards to watch over your room.”
Minghao exits after they’ve finished talking, leaving him alone inside his room once again.
It is true that he got sick because of worrying about Wonwoo too much. He assigned a royal guard to secretly trail after his three friends, to make sure they will reach their destination in one piece. After the royal guard ensures their sound arrival, he is to immediately report back to him. Rain or shine, he waited for the royal guard to get back to the palace. Worry began to gnaw at him as the rain poured heavily. His brothers told him to remain inside the palace for shelter, while praying for the rain to stop, but he insisted on waiting outside, only coming in after the royal guard had delivered the good news to him. He had been soaked from rainwater, from head to toe.
He was stubborn and so he got sick.
“Oh, dear Wonwoo.” He sighs. “Please come back safely.”
-
Immediately after getting off his horse, Wonwoo runs off, heading in a haste towards the main palace, hoping Soonyoung is still awake to hear him out. Imagining his Soonyoung beaming from ear to ear once he tells him the good news, a smile blossoms on his face, heart soaring in pure glee.
He arrives by the hallway, weirded out by the two royal guards watching over Soonyoung’s room. “I need to talk to the Crown Prince,” He announces, proceeding to open the door, but fails as the two royal guards grab him by his arms. “Wait—why?”
“We cannot let you in, sire. We were instructed to not let anyone inside Your Highness’ chamber.” One of the guards tells him.
He scowls darkly. It is not even past Soonyoung’s bedtime. “May I remind the two of you, I am not just anyone. I am the Crown Prince’s most trusted aide.” And besides, who even let these two hooligans monitor Soonyoung? If he remembers correctly, Soonyoung has especially requested the King to dispatch the royal guards elsewhere, where they are more needed. “And most importantly, did the Crown Prince even allow you two to guard over his room?”
“We are only following Prince Jeonghan’s instructions, sir.”
“I need to talk to them,” He mutters under his breath, stomping away to search for Prince Jeonghan and Minghao. If anyone from his closest friends would see him right now, they would be flabbergasted by his immature fit rage.
“Prince Jeonghan,” In a firm voice, he says the prince’s name as he pushes the door to Prince Jeonghan’s open. It might be impudent of him to come to the prince’s chamber unannounced, but only he could give a definite answer to his question. Why would Soonyoung decline having guests into his room? Why is he also barred from entering Soonyoung’s room when Wonwoo is no stranger to the Crown Prince?
“You have a visitor, Jeonghan hyung.” Minghao and Prince Jeonghan are undeniably close, their connection to Soonyoung having been one of the reasons why they seem fonder of each other now more so than when Minghao first arrived at the main palace. “I shall take my leave now—”
“No, you can stay, Hao.” Jeonghan motions for Minghao to sit down and stay in place, looking stern and serious. “Jeon, kindly shut the door. We don’t want anyone hearing what we’re about to discuss.” Wonwoo was so out of it that he forgot to close the door behind him. Words travel fast. Anyone vying for the royal family’s downfall would do anything to make them abdicate their positions. Not everyone within the perimeter are allies. Some of them are great pretenders.
He does as instructed, staring pointedly back at the prince as he stands impatiently, feet continuously tapping at the wooden floor, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the prince to speak.
“I assume you’re here because of my cute, little brother.” Wonwoo nods, biting his lower lip as he breathes sharply as Jeonghan looks at him from head to toe. “Oh, look at how the tables have turned. The first person Jeon came looking for after being away from the palace is none other than my brother?” Without a doubt, Prince Jeonghan is making fun of him. “What is so important that you need to talk to my brother today?”
“I want… I want to make Soonyoung mine.”
-
His confession did not make much of a difference. Despite baring his feelings in front of the two most important people in Soonyoung’s life, he was still not allowed to see the Crown Prince.
“He is sick, Wonwoo.” Seungcheol reiterates.
“The more reason I should be by his side, correct?”
“No, the more you should understand why the Crown Prince prefers to be alone.”
“He hates drinking those herbal concoctions your father makes, hyung.” Seungcheol smacks him at the back of his head, reprimanding him for making it seem like the royal physician is a warlock practicing dark magic to make evil potions or something. “How am I sure he’s not spitting it out when no one’s looking? Is that the reason why he’s not getting any better? What if it is? Oh good heavens—”
“You’re too dramatic, Wonwoo. The Crown Prince is not a kid anymore. I’m sure he knows what to do.”
“And so what if I am? I am just worried about Soon—”
Seungcheol laughs at him, interrupting his words. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look.
“You’re dramatic, but I don’t hate this side of you. You finally act like your age. Let hyung take care of you sometimes, too, hmm?”
Wonwoo makes a disgusted expression, face contorted in revulsion, though Wonwoo muses Seungcheol knows he is only joking. Anyway, it still earns him a loud slap at the back from the older male. “I’m trying to be a good hyung, okay?!”
-
“What are these, Jeon?”
Wonwoo shoves the letters in Prince Jeonghan’s hands, the latter looking at him, seemingly bewildered. “Letters—those are letters, Prince Jeonghan.”
“I know.” The prince raises an eyebrow at him. “But what are these for?”
“I need you to hand them over to Soonyoung.” Wonwoo says, not minding his demanding tone. It has been a week and two days since his return and he suspects Soonyoung has recovered from his fever, but is only warding him off on purpose. “When he sees that, I know—I just do, he would want to see me. He will finally talk to me.” He says with conviction, but Jeonghan only shrugs indifferently.
“I will deliver them to my brother at your behest.” The prince doesn’t seem mad. It’s unusual for someone with a lower rank in society to command someone with a higher rank. It’s uncommon and frowned upon, but at this point, Wonwoo has put his dignity aside. Must he be branded as shameless, he doesn’t care at all. “I truly hope these letters will mend whatever has been broken between you and my brother.”
“You will not be disappointed, Prince Jeonghan.”
-
“It’s me, Soonyoung-ah.”
Soonyoung scurries towards the door of his room, opening it slightly, peeking from the small space. His older brother tries to stifle his laughter, telling him he didn’t need to be worried about being seen by Wonwoo. His childhood friend headed to the stable to tend to his horse—Soonyoung hasn’t visited the stable in a while and apparently, Wonwoo took the liberty to check on his cherished companion after finishing his academic chores.
“I only came by to deliver these letters from Wonwoo.” He said nothing in reply, a dubious expression on his face as he took the letters in his hands. “Father asks you to return once you are in good health. I am covering up for you, Soonyoung. If Father knows we are colluding to brew lies, we are going to be in trouble.”
“I am returning to my classes by tomorrow, hyung. I asked Hao to lend me his materials so I can catch up on my missed lessons.” He looks at the two envelopes in his hand, excitement and worry plaguing him both at the same time. He didn’t know what to feel. “Did Wonwoo tell you the contents of these letters?”
Jeonghan shakes his head. “Only that you would want to see him after. Other than that, there is nothing else. I apologize if I am not of help.”
“No need to apologize, hyung.”
“Then I will leave you on your own to read the letters.”
-
Soonyoung sits on the edge of his bed, opening the envelope with surgical dexterity. He can feel his heartbeat raging as he unfolds the first letter containing Wonwoo’s beautiful handwriting. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment before taking in each word, carving a space in his heart to keep them close. After all, they came from Wonwoo.
My dearest Crown Prince,
I am a blessed soul for I came to live in the world where you exist.
I may be jaded by the imperfections and harrowing realities in this world, but My Prince, you grow flowers whichever path you walk. You taught me how to see the beauty behind every flaw and made me understand that for as long as we live, neither you or I will be perfect.
We are no faultless creatures. We make mistakes every now and then. I err in my judgment, to let my mind fully take over the matters of the heart when it is only meant to guide it. Through my own fault, I have left you and your faithful heart waiting in agonizing pain.
For that, I am sorry, My Prince. And this time, I am only expressing my sincerest regrets for having to hurt you. I cannot promise to devoid myself of worries, but I will never apologize again for these feelings I have, for you deserve a love with no reservations.
It was not my intention to lead you on, to make you wait for nothing. I was afraid—I still am, to be frank. But let me do everything from the start. I thought I was alone, but I never was. I forgot to take a look around me and notice the people who care for me.
This time, I will take responsibility for your erratic heartbeat, if you find it in your heart to give me another chance. I hope I am not too late either.
Hear me out, My Prince.
I am deeply in love with you, Kwon Soonyoung.
Loving you everyday and forever,
Jeon Wonwoo
As he goes through each sentence, an image of Wonwoo writing earnestly on his study table forms in his mind, the sudden urge to run over to where he is getting stronger with each passing second. I am deeply in love with you, Kwon Soonyoung. Soonyoung swears he could hear Wonwoo’s voice. If Wonwoo were in his room that very moment, saying those words to his face, his deep, resonant voice would instantly fill the room, sending vibrations all through his body, weakening every limb until he no longer had the energy to stand on his own feet, falling into Wonwoo’s arms.
Still, he doesn’t cry. Or at least, he tries not to.
He feels a tinge of guilt. Wonwoo’s worries were valid, for he felt the same before. But to back Wonwoo to a corner, to say that his childhood friend had nothing to worry, for Soonyoung, he himself was enveloped with the same fear? Wonwoo deserves an apology from him, too. He should not have imposed it.
They both committed a blunder. But just because Wonwoo made a mistake does not mean his own lapses should be offset against Wonwoo’s. It doesn’t work that way—he knows. He understands.
-
“Now! I need to see Wonwoo now!”
“It is cold outside, Soonyoung.”
“Are you going to stop me from seeing Wonwoo, hyung?” His tone sounded hostile, ready to defy his brother should he impede his plans to find Wonwoo.
Jeonghan shakes his head, a timid smile spreading on his lips. “I am here to send you off,” His brother shows him the thing he has been hiding behind his back. “I cannot let you fall ill again, can I?” In his brother’s hands, a nambawi, a hand-me-down from their Father, the King. Jeonghan puts it over his head and chuckles. “It’s quite big on you, my Soonyoung.” Jeonghan comments, tying the strings on each side under his chin. “But I do hope it will keep you warm.”
Soonyoung beams back, launching his body onto his brother’s arms, hugging tightly. “Thank you, hyung.”
“No one goes to the stable at this hour. You two should be safe.”
Only the moonlight illuminates in the darkest hour of the night.
-
On his way to the stable, he saw his cousin waiting by the backdoor. His cousin promised to be on a lookout. Every cautious step he takes, he thinks of how he will face Wonwoo. Does he even look presentable? He couldn’t even bother changing into a new set of clothes, donned in his nightwear designed for the cold, winter weather, wearing the nambawi his older brother let him borrow. Should he go back for now and apply powder on his face? He must be looking pale right now—his cheeks, his lips! Should he ask Hao to fetch his lip and cheek rouge?
Oh good heavens, Soonyoung!
He shakes his head and lets out a shaky breath, taking determined and bolder steps, treading the trail from the backdoor to the stable, his pace mimicking his rapid heartbeat. The surrounding is bereft of color and only the moonlight serves as a guide towards Wonwoo. Momentarily, he forgets about the cold breeze nipping at his exposed skin, and stares at the full moon above.
“I’m glad I went out tonight,” He whispers under his breath, a faint smile making its way to his withered lips. Stuck in his room for consecutive days in weeks, as he recovers from his illness while trying to steer away from Wonwoo, he had no time to seek the moon’s solace.
He reaches the stable’s entrance. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to have detected his presence, as if spellbound by his beautiful, ivory horse. He clears his throat, attempting to announce his presence. Within a matter of seconds, Wonwoo quickly turns his gaze towards him. Thank heavens! It would have been embarrassing if he had to repeat it for a second time. Or maybe, it is just his annoying pride taking over. He is used to being given attention without having to ask for it.
“Your Highness,” Soonyoung frowns, lips jutting into a pout upon hearing the title, but he is sure, it must be hard for Wonwoo to make out his expression in the dark. But if Wonwoo could see his face clearly, would Wonwoo think he is adorable? “I mean, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo immediately corrects himself, standing up from the small stool he is seated on. “Wait, oh god, let me just clean up—” Wonwoo washes his hands, dipping them inside what seemed like a pail full of water, then dries them with what seemed like a cloth he pulled out from his pockets. Even someone like him with a slightly better vision than Wonwoo would have a hard time seeing things in the dark. “I’m sorry you had to wait again.” Wonwoo starts walking his way towards him. Soonyoung meets him halfway, the distance between them slowly diminishing, and halts in his tracks after realizing how dangerously close he is to his dearest. “What are you doing here, Soonyoung? Have you read the—”
He didn’t let him finish, throwing his body against Wonwoo’s, pressing his weight onto him as he snuggled his head on Wonwoo’s chest. “I’m sorry, Wonwoo. You must be drowning in deep thought all by yourself,” He sniffles, trying to fight back the tears threatening to fall down. “But I offered no help and was a burden to you.”
“Do you think you can forgive me, Wonwoo?” He angles his head up, looking at Wonwoo in the eyes, orbs glistening with tears.
Wonwoo brings a hand to his face, caressing his cheek with his thumb. Wonwoo’s skin feels piercing cold against his, but he pays no mind, his warm fondness transcends even in the cold season. He longed for Wonwoo’s touch during his absence. God knows how much he has been missing his beloved. “I don’t know what you did wrong, my Soonyoung, but if my forgiveness will make you feel at peace, then I forgive you.” He would have retaliated. He would have reprimanded Wonwoo for forgiving him so easily, but all of his displeasure was instantly dispelled the moment Wonwoo places a hand over his lips, bending forward, just enough to meet his height, angles his head a little bit to the right, and presses his own lips against the back of his palm.
Soonyoung freezes on his spot, eyes wide like saucers, the widest they have opened up if anyone would comment on it, too stunned at Wonwoo’s sudden action. His fists curl, but he releases his fingers gingerly when he perceives Wonwoo’s appearance better at a closer angle. Wonwoo has an elegantly straight and sharp nose—one could say it had been sculpted to perfection and no one would beg to disagree. And it doesn’t end there, his long eyelashes would be a point of envy for all the women in the palace.
Wonwoo admires his beauty, but Soonyoung thinks it’s a shame that Wonwoo doesn’t realize the one he possesses.
Soonyoung might have forgotten the initial shock as he slowly closed his eyes and puckered his lips to plant a soft kiss on Wonwoo's palm.
“You were going to say more,” Wonwoo chuckles as he removes his hand and moves a little further back, playfully booping the tip of his nose. “I needed a way to stop you from talking.” Soonyoung was left confused at the lack of touch, wanting to stay at that position for a few more seconds, mouth left ajar till Wonwoo places a finger under his chin, pushing his lower jaw up to close his opened mouth. “You are quite a talker, you see.”
Nobody warned him!
Since when has Wonwoo become brazen like this?!
He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to huff an infuriated puff, turning his head to the side as he rolls his eyes.
“Are you mad…? What—okay… I forgive you, too. Have you forgiven me…?” He doesn’t say anything back, still keeping up his act, but he keeps an eye out on Wonwoo from his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung… say something, please.”
He turns his head to the front, hands reaching out for Wonwoo’s face, feeling stricken with conscience at Wonwoo’s expression. He gives his cheeks a gentle stroke before he pulls his hands away, keeping them behind his back, fiddling with his fingers. “I am not mad, but rather thankful for your forgiveness. And do not be a worrywart, Wonwoo, I have forgiven you long before this. I was only being stubborn…”
“Then why do you seem mad?”
Soonyoung looks down on the ground and mumbles, cheeks and ears getting hot from embarrassment. The dark is a consolation, at least Wonwoo wouldn’t have to witness how a dignified prince like him is making a fool of himself.
“I couldn’t hear you properly, Soonyoung. Can you repeat that for me?”
Still looking at his feet, he speaks indistinctly. How can he… how can he admit that he wants to be kissed… in a different way… not the kind that Wonwoo did? How can an esteemed prince say that out loud?!
“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo’s tone is firm and his voice runs deep, the kind that would have Soonyoung on his knees, asking for forgiveness. Wonwoo leans to see his face, but he is quick to look away. But Wonwoo doesn’t seem to give up, placing his index finger under Soonyoung’s chin, lifting his face up. Wonwoo places his hand on either side of Soonyoung’s jaws, turning to take a good look at him. “Tell me. Properly this time, my Soonyoung.”
How could Soonyoung defy Wonwoo’s words when he asked so nicely, so gently?
“I wanted you to kiss me.” This time, clear and concise.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“For real this time, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung relishes against Wonwoo’s tender and loving touch against his smooth skin. Soonyoung raises his hand, index finger tracing the bow of his lips. Soonyoung looks up to him with pleading eyes. “Would you, Wonwoo?”
“I would, Soonyoung—trust me. I wanted to claim your lips—I still want to,” There is want. Raw and unblemished. “But do you think I would let our first kiss happen in a stable? Inside a room where light barely passes through the slits of the wooden walls? Where I could not see your beautiful face in its entirety?”
Soonyoung could not even part his lips to speak. Wonwoo has a way with words and Soonyoung isn’t sure if he had gotten way better during the time they were apart. Nevertheless, Wonwoo made him swoon, if he wasn’t already.
“That would be the greatest dishonor to the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on.”
“Say we are in my room, well-lit, warm and comfortable,” Soonyoung knows the answer. He just wants to hear the words straight from Wonwoo. “Would you kiss me sans any hesitation, Wonwoo?”
Soonyoung could see the smirk forming in Wonwoo’s thin lips and it made his stomach churn. Heavens! Wonwoo is going to be the end of him! “How naughty of you, my Soonyoung, to bait me into answering such a thoroughly rhetorical question.” Wonwoo grabs a hold of his hand, walks in front of him, turning to look at him with a telling smile before leading him outside the stable.
They had nothing to worry about. The stable is far from the main palace, closer to the woods behind the perimeter of the palace, closed off to the commoners. It is a great feeling of joy, to be able to hold Wonwoo’s hands without being overpowered with fear. But he is elated more so by their reconciliation. He missed their interactions, he missed Wonwoo’s presence, and he knew Wonwoo was terribly a goner, too, based on his brother and cousin’s anecdotes.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Desperately wanting to elicit an answer from Wonwoo.
“I am bringing you back to your room,” Wonwoo answers without looking back, only staring straight ahead with earnest steps, staring at their intertwined hands, grateful for the moonlight shining from the vast sky. Soonyoung lets himself be led by Wonwoo this time. “I would rather show than tell you my answer to your question, Soonyoung. I am inclined to believe you would prefer that over words.”
Not the answer he expected, but never knew this was the response he needed.
He walks, following the path back to the main palace, hand-in-hand with Wonwoo, his anticipating heart beating rapidly in joy. He wonders if Wonwoo could hear the rebellious sound of his heartbeat, each thump that seems to scream Wonwoo’s name. Inside his heart, a different season had been born, like winter has fast forwarded to make way for spring, because he swears, he could feel flowers budding every passing second. But reality wakes him up, a snowflake drifting right in front of him, until it rests on the tip of his nose.
The first fall of snow.
He looks up and misses the way Wonwoo spins his heels to face him. “It’s snowing,” He utters, finally returning his gaze to the man opposite him. “…Won—”
Before he could finish calling out Wonwoo’s name, he was pulled, Wonwoo’s left hand hooked around his waist, the remaining space between them gone. He could feel Wonwoo’s heartbeat with the younger's chest so close to his ears. The fact that Wonwoo had gotten taller than him used to bother him, but only when they are positioned like this does he realize he has the perfect height to listen to Wonwoo’s heart thundering in his chest.
Lub-dub! Lub-dub! Lub-dub!
“I don’t think I can wait,” Wonwoo declares, a warm gaze fixed on him, their eyes locked in shared understanding. He can feel Wonwoo’s touch against his skin, Wonwoo’s right hand, bigger in size than his, snaking from the column of his exposed neck to his nape while his left hand lifts him up with sheer strength, Soonyoung now standing on tiptoes. With such close proximity, Soonyoung could not help but stare on Wonwoo’s lips, slowly losing his patience. Wonwoo pushes him closer to him, gaze lowering down to his lips. Soonyoung notices the movement on his neck as Wonwoo seemingly gulps the lump in his throat. “Can I—?”
“You did not need to ask. I am all yours.”
That was all it took for Wonwoo to take action. He leans forward aggressively, their lips pressed together, Soonyoung’s nambawi falling off from his head, his long, untied hair free from the constraints. But they were both inexperienced, their teeth getting in the way, awkward at first. Gradually, it dissipates, finding the rhythm until their movements are in concert.
Wonwoo’s lips are impossibly soft against his own, sweeter than he’d imagined they would be. Unconsciously, as he gets lost in Wonwoo’s woodsy scent wafting in the air along the breeze, Soonyoung parts his lips slightly, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to slip inside. In an instant, their innocent kiss turns amorous, heating up the cold surrounding.
Warmth blossomed in his chest, eyes half-lidded at the sensation. His arms wrap around Wonwoo’s body, hands roaming on his broad back, finding purchase against Wonwoo’s clothes, clutching. He could feel Wonwoo’s fingers pressing against his clothed waist, against the sensitive areas of his lithe body.
It was getting harder to breathe, yet they both didn’t have the courage to stop, as if making up for the lost time. For the time they spent wallowing in fear, holding back with their feelings.
Soonyoung is the first to pull away from the kiss, catching his breath.
But the taller one seems to dislike the distance between them, pulling him closer by the waist, foreheads pressed against each other’s. Wonwoo’s bright smile, contrary to his usual courteous and bland demeanor, is infectious, making Soonyoung break into a smile.
“I am deeply in love with you, Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. Wonwoo wrote the same words in his letter, but to hear those precious words from him, without any hesitation laced in his tone. These tears he shed, they are happy tears.
“And so do I, Wonwoo.”
“Those are not the words I long to hear, my Soonyoung.”
Wonwoo teases him.
Smiling amidst the tears, Soonyoung speaks.
“I love you the same way, Wonwoo.”
-
And they know, it will only become more difficult from thereon.
But they are not alone.
-
“I come forth, my brothers, I believe you need my help.”
“Jungchan—”
“If you become the Crown Prince in my stead, your freedom will be taken away.”
“To make sure you will have a place to go back to, Soonyoung hyung, I must become the King.”
-
