Once upon a time, there lived a king in a country far, far hidden in the mountains of the north. He was a benevolent and gracious ruler, beloved by many, for he led no wars, and he ensured his folk were well-fed and warm during the harsh winters.

However, the king was stricken by grief. His queen, the jewel of his soul, had died of an illness and left him with half a heart. While his people prospered under his care, he felt the winters grew colder and longer with each passing year. His grief made him ill and had him bedridden for most of his lifetime. Yet, he didn't give in to death's embrace luring him. For he wasn't alone.

Before her death, his queen had gifted him with a beautiful child. His son, the prince, whose laughter was as clear as a spring's merry splash and whose smile brought rays of light upon the king in the darkest hours, was his most precious person whom he adored so dearly. To give his son a bountiful life, the king prevailed.

Until the son's twelfth birthday, the king upheld a facade of fortitude and courage. However, later on, darkness clouded the skies. The neighbouring county mongered war against the kingdom of our tale and the fragile king could not abound. As his country fell into despair and his lands got plundered of their goods, he grasped the boy at his narrow shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.

"Fear not, my dearest son. I will send you to my friend in the east, many, many weeks of a journey away from here. You will be tired as you arrive, and confused, but you will be safe there. My friend is a rich merchant. He will provide you with everything you need. Go now."

As the boy reached for his father in fear, the guards brought him away. They led him through the hidden passages under the castle and, with the night and the wind; they were gone.

The prince was so fatigued by the long journey that he thankfully didn't hear the news of how his home fell into the hands of the attacking monarch. He fled from those searching for him and after weeks and weeks of travel; they made it to the village just outside the forest line. The name of the prince's new home was Villebête, a place both peaceful and delightfully isolated from the corruption of politics. While the prince was stunned by the modest homes around him and the humble clothes the townsfolk donned as they greeted each other gaily on the street, the guards found the merchant they had been searching for. A young man with a kind smile greeted them, and he understood their predicament. He asked the prince to join him inside and introduced him to his lavish home. The prince was satisfied, for he needed lots of rest after his voyage. While he slumbered in his bed, the guards explained to the merchant how the kingdom had fallen and he had to be the prince's new family. Though the merchant was younger and less experienced than the king, he accepted the dying wish of his old friend. From now on, he would treat the prince as his own flesh and blood.

In the morning at supper, the prince felt rested. He thanked the merchant for the food, for he knew not anyone would have taken him in and shared his home with a stranger.

The merchant asked his name.

"Wooyoung," the prince replied. "My father gave me this name, hoping I would have lots of friends and be beloved by many."

The merchant could already tell that this sweet child would become just that. He smiled at the boy.

"From now on, you are no prince anymore, Wooyoung. We must pretend you are no more but a regular merchant's child to protect you from the evil men. Can you do that?"

After a moment of pondering, Wooyoung nodded.

"Then I shall be just Wooyoung. I shall live as if I were your own and as if I had been born to this place."

Satisfied, the merchant nodded at him. He knew transitioning from a royal life to a more humble one must be hard on the boy, but he lauded the wide understanding of the prince.

"Welcome to my home, just Wooyoung. I hope many people here will be your friends and help you adjust."

"May I ask your name?" Though the merchant should be Wooyoung's new family, he was in no place to call himself his new father. Much rather, he would like to be Wooyoung's uncle, since they weren't that far apart in age.

"You may call me Yeosang."

"Yeosang, will you be my first friend?"

Yeosang smiled so much that his cheek hurt from it.

"Of course, I will be your friend."

And thus, Prince Wooyoung became Wooyoung, the merchant's nephew from Villebête. As he grew up into a handsome and charming boy, the prince forgot most of the memories that he had left at the palace. He knew he had been a prince once, but what prince was a prince of a dead country? He left such identities behind and became who he had sworn to be.

For several years, prosperity blessed the unlikely pair. Yeosang travelled a lot for his business, but Wooyoung never got lonely. He befriended the neighbours, the cats, and the vendors of the street. He helped with minor tasks where he could, and he took care of the household even when there was a servant. Soon, Wooyoung was praised for his gracious nature and his kind heart across the entire village. He made many friends, and he enjoyed helping where he could.

One day, however, Yeosang returned home with haunted eyes and bad news. He had lost a shipment of wares, one of his most expensive investments, to a bunch of pirates that had scouted the waters. All his fortunes got used up in paying for the loss. Grim times loomed over their heads, but Wooyoung assured him they could do this. After the rain, the sun had o rise inevitably and thus; they sold Yeosang's fancy home and his expensive furniture to buy a smaller hut. There was no servant there, no grandeur. It was just them.

But Wooyoung had always been quick to adjust. He did the work at home and soon found he enjoyed it, for it bestowed him with strength and endurance. He learned many skills, like cooking and sewing, and Yeosang occasionally brought him gifts to thank him for his hard work during his absence.

Some of the spoiled town kids made fun of Wooyoung.

"Look how well he is suited for manual labour. Isn't he a peasant's son?"

"His clothes are old and ugly. Should we throw him a rag so he can dress?"

"His face is that of a prince, but his hands are those of a coal miner."

No matter how they laughed and poked fun at him, Wooyoung forgave them. They were simple in their minds, and their riches made up their entire personality. Wooyoung was happy where he was, and he would never fault Yeosang.

Years passed and Yeosang grew more desperate to regain his status, but Wooyoung grew up to be a humble and gentle boy. He adored the generosity of the simple folk over financial and political grandeur, and he became one of them as he was supposed to be.

Every day, Wooyoung went to the market to buy food. On rare days such as this one, he brought more money in his self-made pouch, for Yeosang had written him a letter and told him he would come home soon. After weeks apart, Wooyoung wished to cook him a warm meal and show off one recipe he had studied in Yeosang's absence.

On his way through the picturesque little cottages of Villebête, Wooyoung greeted everyone he saw. The cats, the old ladies, the men working at the harvest in their gardens. As he passed, all of their faces lit up in delight at the sight of their dear Wooyoung. His smile shone the sun's light upon them and his laughter as they told him jokes refreshed their parched throats.

As Wooyoung chatted with the sweet-tempered ladies on the market and arranged the fresh vegetables and fruit in his woven basket, he was approached by another man. Compared to the ones working the skin off their hands, this one strode tall and proud. He was Yunho, the mayor's son, and the person most set on capturing Wooyoung's heart.

"Wooyoung, my shiniest gem in this muddy place. How is your day?"

Wooyoung smiled at him, but while friendly, this smile was less warm than the others. He disliked the way Yunho put his arm around Wooyoung's shoulders as if they were close. The man wore heavy perfumes on his skin and they made Wooyoung's head spin they were so intense.

"The day only just started, Yunho. How could it be?" He asked back with a mirthful smile. Yunho clicked his tongue.

"That is no fitting answer, my beauty. Shouldn't you respond with 'good, now that I saw you?'"

"That would be a lie. Do you wish I lie to you?"

Bothered by Wooyoung's wit, which was sharper than one would expect from a simple village boy, Yunho turned Wooyoung to face him. Distracted from his shopping, though he had to hurry back to have the food finished on time, Wooyoung lingered. Yunho was a handsome man, with his fair skin and hair, and the height that towered over many. However, his heart was ugly with his demands of arrogance.

"I wish you to accept my hand in marriage. When will you accept my proposal? I can release you of the chains Yeosang's failure put on you and douse you in gold and silver."

With a secretive smile, Wooyoung sorted the apples in his basket. The sun shone its sleepy rays on the village, wet from the night, and bathed his dark hair with a pearly shimmer. Blinded by Wooyoung's refinement that seemed so exotic to their village, Yunho had to shield his eyes.

"I don't wish for gold nor silver. I shall only marry the person who I love from the bottom of my heart and no one else." He turned to leave, but Yunho slipped into his way again. His hands on Wooyoung's shoulders were uncomfortably hot. Too polite to worm out of them, Wooyoung gazed at him.

"Then how do I make you love me from the bottom of your heart?" Yunho found Wooyoung made things unnecessarily complicated. Anyone should accept a marriage climbing the ranks. Those who didn't were foolish dreamers with no regard for how the real world worked. While Yunho could be an unpleasant character, he was not unkind.

"My love can't be bought and it can't be forced how you like to force other people around you to heed your will. Return to me once you learned that lesson, then we can talk again." This time when Wooyoung walked off, he did so at a brisk pace. Yunho remained behind, baffled and insulted. When his two goons came over, they spat insults after Wooyoung's retreating back.

"Who does he think he is? Acting like he's better than you when his uncle lost his entire fortune and they live in a hut." The goon spat at the ground. Next to him, Yunho's grim features reflected his displeasure.

"Must be all those books he reads. They make people think thoughts so complicated," the second goon agreed.

Yunho shook his head as he took off in the other direction. Like two loyal dogs, his friends followed him.

"A proper spouse shouldn't have to worry themselves with difficulties such as reading. He could live free of such worthless distractions if only he married me."

The two goons agreed. While they worked hard to get Yunho back into a good mood, Wooyoung arrived home with a peaceful hum. He spread his purchases over the desk and washed his hands before he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. If Yeosang's journey wasn't hindered, he would arrive in the afternoon and they could have dinner together.

Wooyoung baked the apple pie first and let it sit while he prepared the main meal. He had splurged with the money he had made from helping their priest during the service last week. Hopefully, the hearty meal would bring back Yeosang's spirits and soothe him after his long voyage. Wooyoung looked forward to hearing his tales about the countries beyond the ocean and all the interesting personas Yeosang encountered there.

As he wiped his sweat and dirtied his fingers with labour, Wooyoung, despite the many losses in his life and the grim memories, was the happiest he had ever been.

******

Welcome here! This is another commission I'm doing for @WannaBangChan (Twitter: YouGetDejaWoo) a redo of our most beloved tale! Please enjoy reading, all thanks to her for allowing me to post it online ^^