Sharing a room with San was surprisingly comfortable. The man offered Yeosang his bed and build a soft nest for himself on the floor on the other side of the room. Before he left to attend to some other duties, he informed Yeosang that he could freely use the kitchens if he needed anything or got hungry.

Yeosang fell asleep before San returned, and when he woke up, the man was already gone.

He had rested surprisingly well. Despite all his worries and anxiety about Seonghwa, palace intrigues, and weird objects they needed to find, he had slept like a baby. He supposed around all those bothersome thoughts; his body needed its comfort even more.

Yeosang rose with the light of day that dimly lit the bottom of the canyon. He let Bricky out of his bag and activated the bird so he could carry him around on his shoulder. The light weight of his little companion kept Yeosang in a good mood. As he sneaked over to Seonghwa's room, he took his notebook with him. Expectedly, his brother was still lost in the land of dreams, but Yeosang didn't mind much. He curled up in a corner of the sparsely decorated chamber and went to work.

His change of surroundings fuelled him with many new ideas for his book. Ever since he had left the dull solitude of the palace, his mind bubbled with creative thoughts. It projected incredible landscapes, futuristic ideals, and fascinating plots into his mind. On the ground of Seonghwa's room, Yeosang busied himself for a whole hour sketching a market similar to Qam's that he wanted to have in his story. One of the characters that stood more in the front left wore a cropped top and had dimples on his face.

Before Yeosang could get into too much detail and add his other friends, too, Seonghwa stirred in his bed. He grumbled into his pillow before he blearily opened his eyes. Yeosang's heart softened at the sight. He and Seonghwa had never slept around each other since the prince hadn't been allowed to leave the palace's main building for too long. Yet, his brother looked incredibly much younger in his sleep. He actually resembled his age, and the stress of his many duties lifted right off him.

He had some marks from his pillow on his face.

Seonghwa tiredly blinked at Yeosang, not quite spotting him in his weird fetal position yet.

"Hongjoong?" Groggy from sleep, his voice scratched in his throat. Chuckling, Yeosang shut his book and stood up. As he neared, understanding crossed Seonghwa's eyes, and he rolled on his back to smile dopily at Yeosang.

"Whatever would the air pilot do in your room at night, dear brother?" Yeosang sat down on the edge of Seonghwa's bed with a smile. When he reached out to caress Seonghwa's cheek, the man closed his eyes and leaned into his touch like a satisfied cat. If he had purred, Yeosang would have taken him with him in his bag.

"Most of the time, he brings trouble. But enough of him. Good morning."

Yeosang amusedly noted how fast his brother had changed the topic. Since he was in a charitable mood today, he didn't comment on it.

"Good morning. I wanted to apologise for reacting so harshly to your words yesterday. I thought about it some more and figured it must have been hard for you. I can't imagine the fear and sense of betrayal."

Yeosang had been betrayed, too, but he always had been. His whole life in the palace was a deception. There was nothing to surprise him with. Seonghwa, however, Seonghwa had presumed himself safe. And he had been cruelly wronged.

"I am not mad at you. I never could be." Seonghwa reached out to pat Yeosang's hair, but his arm wasn't long enough. Sighing, Yeosang leaned down until the man could tap his head with a coo. His fingers slid through Yeosang's hair gently and untangled a few knots.

"Still, I need evidence. If your assumption is true, then, by all means, we should do everything to hide or stop whatever the king is planning. But if it isn't... He might also just be a tool." Yeosang frowned into the empty room. He couldn't see Seonghwa's expression from here, but he knew that the man pondered his words. A second passed in mutual silence. Through Seonghwa's blanket, his heat radiated onto Yeosang.

"If I am right... Then whatever we might find down here in the canyon will give you the evidence you need. It either proves his innocence, or it doesn't."

Yeosang slipped from Seonghwa's grasp as he sat up. As he scrutinised his brother's face, he found the resolution that they shared in his eyes, too.

"What is it that we seek? Is there a plausible item that can hold such worth?"

With a muffled groan, Seonghwa pushed himself up in his bed. After he had helped him adjust his pillows and settle against them, Yeosang waited for an answer attentively. Maybe he should search for San after this to check on his brother.

"There is. But I'm not sure with my theory. I will share it with you once you find it. It has to do with our nethicite energies." Seonghwa's lips curled into a grim expression.

Yeosang wondered whatever might be behind this mysterious item. In what way would it be related to Seonghwa's assassination attempt? He had wanted to visit the canyon far before that, he couldn't possibly foresee his planned murder, right?

After all the newest developments, Yeosang wasn't so sure anymore. His head felt like a clockwork of turning cogs and wires, and none seemed to lead together to form a whole thought.

"I asked San to accompany you and your friends there. I won't be able to go, but he is a skilled pathfinder. I'm positive that he will get you to your goal and back here safe and sound." As his grimace formed into a weak smile, Yeosang insecurely attempted to mimic the gesture. His weak attempts were rewarded with a reassuring pat from Seonghwa.

"You can do it. San knows everything about this item and where it could be. I think you and your team are cut out to retrieve it."

So it was an item, after all. Not just a concept that Seonghwa sought after. But related to nethicite energies? Yeosang would have to ask Jongho about it. He had little knowledge about mechanical and technical jargon himself.

Yeosang nodded weakly. Then, he offered Seonghwa to take him downstairs to get some food and examine his wounds. By the time the two managed to shuffle down to the living room area with Seonghwa's crutches in tow, San, Jongho and Mingi had already gathered there. They were in the middle of a conversation, but San still jumped from his seat to aid Seonghwa as soon as he heard them.

"Good morning, lads. Here, let me help."

His fingers brushed against Yeosang's arm warmly when he wrapped his arm around Seonghwa's waist. With a thankful smile at Yeosang, Seonghwa allowed the pink-haired man to get him over to a chair. Worried eyes followed him as Mingi and Jongho observed the exchange. They seemed ready to intervene at any time.

Once Seonghwa was taken care of and settled in his place safely, San scurried off to get him fresh bandages. He called for Mingi to help him with the tea, and Jongho mentioned to Seonghwa how he should prepare for the bitter brew with a chuckle. As Yeosang sat down next to Jongho, the man scooted his arms away a bit to give Yeosang space. Neither of them minded how their thighs pressed together underneath the small table.

"How did you sleep?"

Yeosang purposefully lowered his voice so he wouldn't interrupt San in his work as he undressed Seonghwa's upper body. He assured himself of Seonghwa's comfort with every step he took.

Jongho watched how San unwrapped the prince's bandages with the same attention as Yeosang. Both sat stiffly in their corner when blue and purple bruises appeared on Seonghwa's skin when the white bandages came off. His left shoulder must have taken the worst of his momentum with how bad it looked. The thought alone made Yeosang's shoulder flare with pain and heart constrict in his chest. His brother's skin resembled a flower field of dark colours. They matched the night and Hongjoong's hair as if they attempted to remind him of the circumstances of his fall.

"Good. Our quarters were very comfortable, and nobody disrupted us during the night. Mingi snores, but that was the worst that happened."

Yeosang's eyes stuck to San's long lashes that fluttered over his carved cheekbones. His nimble fingers took extra care with Seonghwa's damaged bones. Unstyled strands of pink hair fell into his face rather wildly, but it took nothing from his handsomeness.

"How about you?" Jongho followed Yeosang's gaze to the new friend they had made. While Yeosang could feel him brim with curiosity and tension about something, he didn't word any question.

"Good, good. I had an enjoyable night and slept well."

They lapsed into silence as they listened to the sound of the boiler around the corner and Mingi's hum that accompanied it. Bricky hopped over the table in front of them. While San wordlessly knelt on the floor and patched up Seonghwa's leg, the prince took notice of the little bird on the surface. Curious, he stretched out his good hand towards it.

"Hello, little friend. Who are you?"

Bricky curiously scuttled closer to the man's searching fingers. The melody he hummed filled the air that slowly started to mix with the delicious smell of food from outside. Yeosang's stomach grumbled, interested.

"That's Bricky. Jongho made him for me." Proud, Yeosang glanced at the other man. He had lowered his eyes to the table and fiddled with his fingers, but a little smile played around his lips.

"Nice to meet you, Bricky. Oh, he wouldn't possibly be able to traverse freely, right? We could use him to stay in contact with each other while you are gone!"

At the idea, both boys from the castle excitedly looked at Jongho. The man looked surprised.

"He should be. In theory, you can attach messages to him, and he can travel around to relay them." Judging from his amazed expression, Jongho hadn't thought about that before. As the three of them gushed about the possibilities, San stood up and fetched Mingi as well as the tea. He stood while the other four collected on the table around him. Like a class of school kids, they looked up at him, prepared to soak up all wisdom he had to share like ravenous sponges.

"So, we plan to venture further into the canyon. We don't need to go further down; there are only water torrents that will rip us apart. I doubt we will find anything there."

He pouted slightly as he spoke, giving him a cute touch. Yeosang held back an endeared sigh.

"The four of us will go. I think the trip might take us about two weeks back and forth. We will travel on the same level of height, but since many paths aren't very secure, I would rather take my time than hurry."

Grim nods agreed all around the table. Bricky continued his merry hops from one of them to the next.

"We will meet other people further down the canyon. Not all of them will be hospitable, but we put our hopes in them concerning the exact location of whatever we search for. Who knows, maybe somebody collected it before us and has it in their possession." He shrugged his broad shoulders. Instantly, his jacket slipped off. Yeosang's eyes stuck to the man's pretty honey skin tone.

"I want us to depart tomorrow in the morning. Seonghwa urges us to hurry since he doesn't trust the newest developments in the castle. I hope you will all rest and eat a lot here, and be energetic to go by dawn." He smiled at them one after the other. When he ended with Yeosang, he threw a playful wink in. Blushing, Yeosang lowered his eyes.

Jongho shifted his leg under the table. Distracted, Yeosang accommodated him. With Mingi and Seonghwa with their legs that seemed to go on forever opposite of them, it was complicated to figure out space.

When Mingi's stomach audibly announced its displeasure about the lack of food, San let them go. He even recommended them a good food place before taking care of a meal for Seonghwa.

Together, the trio went out to get fill their stomachs. As always, Yeosang was glad to see Jongho eat. His gaunt features could always use some more fat on them. Wandering about, Yeosang regarded all the colours and new impressions around him with great interest. He ingrained all of them in his memory extra well so that when he got bored during their trip, he would have something to do when he wrote or drew them.

San wasn't in his room when Yeosang went to bed.