As always, the medicine shop was bathed in a thick cloud of different smells and intoxicating smoke. Usually, coming here meant relief and pride after a long period of hard work. Jongho visited here whenever he completed his deliveries in one piece and gained a few more weeks of life for his father.

Not today.

Three days had passed before Jongho had decided to swing by. After his father's death, he drowned himself in labour so that the loss would not settle too much in his heart. Since he experienced death two times before, too, holding a ritual for his father felt like a chore that he could do in his sleep. First, he took care of the man's body and carried it to one of the large coal factories. For a low price, they cremated his father and declared their condolences.

Jongho didn't contact Mingi to join him at the funeral. He wanted to bid his goodbyes independently, and Mingi could take a break from the sudden emotional reversal.

With the bunny singing its sad melody, Jongho sat at the cliff. The pot with ashes next to him was open, and from time to time, the ice-cold wind carried some grains off over the ocean.

Their home felt lonely now. Back when they had lived as four people in the tiny, cramped space, it had always seemed too small and lively for all of them. Jongho remembered his complaints that Yunho took up so much more space than the rest of them. His older brother could only laugh and ruffle his hair for that.

With his father around, the room had been diluted and filled with anxiety-pregnant air most of the time. But every day, his father had been happy to see him come home.

Now, whenever Jongho returned there, nobody greeted him. Nobody needed his care and words of affirmation.

To distract himself from the emptiness in his chest, Jongho pushed all feelings aside and worked instead. He travelled through Zey as usual, and whenever he was home, he thought rationally about the things he could sell or new things he needed.

Selling his father's medicine was the last step. It was a major reminder of his condition and struggles, and returning here was closure for Jongho.

"Oh, back so soon? Do you come for more stocks or did it fall again?" The old lady behind the counter greeted him with kind eyes. Jongho managed a tired smile before he sat down the box with powder on the table.

"Thank you for prolonging his time for so long. I greatly appreciate it. It seems as if I got over-confident in my planning."

When understanding dawned upon her, her lips pursed into a sad line. No words of consolation could turn back time, and neither of them was surprised. All this time, it had been obvious that it would end here.

Wordlessly, she reached for the bag and began weighing the medicine. Some vendors didn't like to exchange their goods back, but Jongho was glad that she treated it fairly.

"What will you do now? Your life and working schedule all resolved around your family. Will you continue?" She purposefully lowered her voice to a respectful murmur. Jongho's eyes were unfocused as he watched her work.

He had no idea.

There was nothing to do for him. He lacked anything that held him to Zey now. He could jump an airship and fly off; he could take a carriage into the bustling city in the north. He could freely change his surroundings to somewhere that allowed him to live well and climb the social ladder as long as he worked hard.

Shrugging, he pushed his unwashed hair back.

"I'll wait and see; it's too soon to tell."

She finished her task quickly and handed him his money. Now that he didn't have to buy medicines from it, it felt like a fortune in his hand. What would he buy from it?

Jongho faltered. For a moment, he stood at the counter, lost.

"I would be happy if you still came by sometimes, even if just to chat. I will miss seeing your handsome face here." The vendor's kind words startled Jongho out of his trance. Weak, he smiled.

"I'll try to. Your husband always has scrap I might need."

He tapped his finger against his forehead before he left. In return, her worried voice bid him a healing week.

Icy wind crawled into his open jacket as soon as he left the parlour. It was cold enough to make him shiver on a normal day, but today he just buttoned his coat shut and huddled his head between his shoulders.

He had another delivery to make and meet up with Youjin in the evening to collect his reward.

For now, he could busy himself with that.

-

Jongho's limbs were stiff and cramped from the cold by the time he got home. As usual, Youjin had been a talkative mess that didn't know when to shut up. Since he and Jongho were not close enough to share his loss with the coworker, Jongho endured it with a grumpy face and a frown. By the time the other man had finally let him go, Jongho's stomach had roared with cramping hunger.

Just like a few days prior, Jongho visited the vendor at the street corner to get himself some soup. Eating the whole serving for himself, including the share he would usually split with his father befuddled his mind.

Jongho was in the middle of slurping his food and reading the airship book on the side to that he could return it soon when a hasty knock on the door distracted him. Immediately, he broke from finding the spots in the text that his father had pointed out to him while he barely skimmed the rest.

His broth stood hot and steaming on the working bench that he used as a table when he ate alone. Its smell lingered in his room and lifted his spirits a little as he went to open the door the barest bit to peek outside.

It was Mingi.

Surprised to see the man around after the curfew, Jongho pulled the door open wide to usher him in. No automatons were nearby, so the tall man seemed to have evaded them with luck watching over him like a guardian angel.

"Mingi! What brings you here in the middle of the night?" Since Mingi was a friend, Jongho allowed himself to show some confusion. Shifting nervously, Mingi abruptly decided to strip from his coat. He nearly whacked Jongho in the face from how jerky his movements were.

"I came to talk about the news. Surely, you must have heard?"

Jongho slowly shook his head. His face resembled a question mark. He hadn't encountered any information that was important enough to ignore the curfew over it today from what he remembered.

"I was busy, no."

Mingi nodded quickly while he put down the jacket over the chair Jongho had been perched on just a moment ago.

"I will tell you then. But maybe once your dad sleeps, I'm not sure how much he should hear of this." Mingi turned to swipe his searching eyes over the empty bed. In an attempt to imitate some organisation in his life, Jongho had neatly made the covers and fluffed the pillow. Both of them fell quiet at the lack of a person in the bed.

With a face that was so open and honest that it physically pained Jongho's heart, Mingi glanced at Jongho. The question was written on his features, but his lips didn't dare utter the forbidden words.

Jongho exhaled.

"Let's sit. Do you mind if I eat on the side?"

"No, no, do whatever you want."

Mingi's voice was dull and breathy. Like a gust of wind, the words escaped him. Then, he shut right back up as he tucked his long legs beneath his body. Both were thankful he didn't address the elephant - or lack of such - in the room.

Jongho brought his soup over and sat opposite of him. While he continued to slurp his warm noodles, his eyes held onto Mingi. The man's hair was wild from the wind and his fingers, and his eyes had a haunted look in them.

"Something bad happened. I hurried right here after I did my research."

Mingi had just sat down relatively calmly to worry on his lips and fingernails when he already shifted again. He pulled a newspaper from his coat and held it in trembling hands. When he didn't hand it over, Jongho rose his brow mid-bite.

"Prince Seonghwa died last night."

Jongho bit his cheek.

Speechless, he stared at his friend as if he had tried to sell him that flying trains existed.

What the hell was happening in the world right now? First his father, and two days later Seonghwa?

Even if his emotional attachment to Seonghwa was low, the news hit him like a shot.

"I know, I made the exact same face. The royal family opened up about it this morning, and it's all over the afternoon paper already," Mingi continued. His hands fumbled uncharacteristically clumsy with the sheet. After he accidentally crumpled up the page in the progress, he tried to smooth it out in front of Jongho. The soup was forgotten as he leaned over the article.

"They say that an intruder murdered him. According to them, it must have been an assassin from either a hostile army or some rebel from Zey. The Undying is furious, and the whole palace has shut down. Asora has been crying all day."

Mingi's voice was disturbed, just like it carried urgency. His fingers urgently tapped onto a paragraph in the column.

"Here, they write that the loss of his only son pushes the Undying in another period of unforeseen rule. Do you think something happened to Yeosang, too?"

Jongho's mind was reeling.

If somebody targeted the princes, then chances were they either didn't know of Yeosang or didn't see him as a threat. However, if the person had gotten close enough to Seonghwa to kill him, they might know.

Jongho's body was chillingly cold, but he felt feverish at the same time. Fear consumed him.

Just as overwhelmed, Mingi continued to babble.

"I also talked to the badgers on the main street. Most of them found the incident greatly amusing. They said the king got what he deserved by losing one of his brood himself. A lot of them found hope since they believe in whatever enemy is out for them. But Seonghwa- He didn't deserve that fate!"

Empty, Jongho stared into the bowl of soup that cooled with the seconds passing.

"Yeosang must be devastated... Seonghwa was the only one that looked after him." His hollow voice slipped into the dark corners of the room as if it had to hide from the gruesome truth. Jongho envied its ability to sneak away and vanish into nothingness.

"I'm worried about him, too. Blimey, what if whoever this person is, is out for Yeosang, too?! We should check on him as soon as possible!"

The fact that Mingi voiced the same worry that had etched itself into Jongho's brain got him all the more anxious.

"It's probably difficult to get in when they are all in commotion, right?"

Mingi nodded seriously.

"They wrote that they would tighten security, too. We have to give it a few days before we can consider going. I hope he'll be safe. Since nobody knows of him or talks about him, we have no way to make sure if we don't check in person."

The chilly air that radiated from the windows made both of them tense with shivers. Neither warmth nor joy permeated the heavy cold.

"Keep an eye out on the palace, then. As soon as it's safe to go, we'll set out," Jongho gruffly said to wrap up the topic. The issue gave much food for thought, and now that Jongho was alone, he had all the time to ponder it.

"Stay safe. I bet it's only days before they will try to blame it on Zey. The automatons might get calibrated just a bit crueller." Mingi put the newspaper away again. Jongho nodded as he stood and fetched the other man a spoon.

"Then you can sleep here. I don't need another victim tonight."

Mingi's worried eyes flooded with gratitude. As they shared the lukewarm soup, both of them were deeply lost in thought.

Jongho had to plan how he could see Yeosang and make sure that he wouldn't become a target of political misconducts after this incident. As he laid next to Mingi later who slept like a stone, he barely found any sleep from how concerned he was for the librarian.