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┗━━ 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥 ━━┛

The morning arrives quickly, followed by the swell of birds and a rougher breeze than the day previous, weaving in through open windows and wrapping itself around Wooyoung's bed posts and curtains, warming the space that felt too cold; barren of a presence he longed to keep.

Wooyoung laid in bed, his hands absently messing with the duvet, hoping that a series of knocks would ring out before his usual morning routine, signaling San's arrival and awakening after his late post, but the sound had remained void, nulled of the usual warmth his voice carried in the morning that led the Prince's heart astray. Wooyoung knew not of what the day would bring, burdened with realizing that the ball was just mere hours away, two sunrises from now, patiently awaiting the arrival of those he graciously invited in the hope that one of them would seek to rule beside him.

Truthfully, no one had to respond to his request, as the other kingdoms could rule idly if they so wished, but based upon the mutual transactions that bore themselves between each small kingdom, lay the need for alliances and protection from that of the other two kingdoms that sought to vow themselves to no one other than themselves.

Fleuria was audaciously independent, seeking wealth from its notorious horse breeding program, selling Arabians and Andalusian horses for bags of gold per steed, finding themselves an honest fortune in just selling a dozen to a needy army. They hadn't reached out for an alliance or a treaty in quite some years, as far as Wooyoung knew. Prince Sunghoon, the bearer of the crown for the last three years, ruled with an iron fist. He sought to not marry, fearing that his power would be split in half, and that was something he truly didn't want. He wanted everything he could grasp, and Wooyoung had a feeling that if he were to wait any longer in his pursuit for a partner, Sunghoon would make a move, trying to claim Etheria for his own.

Truth be told, Wooyoung realized deep down that if Etheria were to fall, Celestia and Nautica would cease to exist either, as their armies were not as large and powerful, struggling to maintain the wealth and resources needed to provide such a giant military. They had enough to survive as they were, but nothing more. Wooyoung feared for them, truly, but there was nothing he could do. He'd have to marry Prince Yeosang or Prince Jisung in order to truly benefit them in some sort of manner, or they'd have to reach an agreement, a means of protecting each other in a time of dear crisis. However, there was a final kingdom that he hadn't much thought of up until this moment, one that was rather a wild-card in a world of truths and lies. Calypsia.

Calypsia, ruled by King Heeseung and King Consort Riki, never spoke to anyone. They kept to themselves, not needing to rely on another kingdom to provide for them. They were self-sufficient, their castle resting against the bay of calm waters, protected faithfully by their navy, which remained as a force in itself. Calypsia hadn't waged any wars with anyone, nor have they sought to choose sides when wars have come to pass upon the lands. They just weren't particularly bothered by the idea of choosing a side, being faithful to someone, choosing to keep to themselves to keep their people, their resources, and their walls safe from those who would seek to destroy them.

Because of that, Wooyoung didn't invite anyone from Calypsia, and he'd be marked a fool for daring to invite Prince Sunghoon from Fleuria in the hope that he'd seek to marry Wooyoung and sit to share power between their conjoined kingdoms.

"Your grace–" a voice beckons from behind the thick of his oak door, preceding the opening as steps trail inwards, not yet caring about the Prince's state as he continues to rest in bed. "We have important matters at hand."

"What is it now, Sir Minho?" Wooyoung sighs, turning his head to the left, spotting the knight in question. "Why must you barge in here well before my usual awakening time?"

"Word has arrived back quickly," Minho states, bowing his head slightly, pausing for a moment before he looks up, allowing his words to continue. "Company is on the way, my Prince. We know not of when to expect them, but we must prepare the castle for the festivities."

"Please, do tell me at how any of this pertains to me?" Wooyoung asks, raising a brow, using his elbow to prop himself upright. "As far as I can be concerned, the maids and my staff will handle the decor, as my mother might have better input than I."

"She would like for you to oversee the preparations," Minho explains further, gesturing with his hand, but then pausing yet again, likely having seen the look of annoyance cast across Wooyoung's expression. "I apologize, your grace, as I realize this was not laid out in the things of which you would like to attend to today."

"It is not," Wooyoung sighs, looking towards his open windows before looking back at Minho. "But, I digress. I will get changed and attend to such. . . detailed matters. Please send the maids."

"At once, your grace," Minho replies, bowing his head.

"Oh, and Minho?" Wooyoung asks, sitting up further. Minho looks up, awaiting his command. "Have you seen Sir San by chance?"

"He was still within his quarters this morning, attending to Neukdae."

Wooyoung smiles, nodding his head. "His precious pup, I see. Thank you."

"Of course," Minho says with a polite smile, bowing his head once more before turning on his heel, walking back towards the entrance of Wooyoung's chambers, closing the door softly behind him.

Wooyoung takes in a breath, stretching out his arms, brushing a hand through his hair with a quiet yawn, forcing his gaze back onto the windows ahead of him. He smiles, if only briefly, welcomed by the thought of disturbing San's morning with a bit of jest. He never usually visited San on such occasions, but hearing that he was with his loyal companion, Neukdae, Wooyoung could barely see to resist.

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After finishing his morning bath and dressing himself to look the part, Wooyoung sauntered down the main hall, listening as Mingyu's steps followed that of his own. The castle was bustling with activity, which was typical of mornings like these; filled with anticipation for an upcoming event that would cycle life and fluidity back into the routine. Wooyoung paid no mind, listening to the chatter consume the darker corners of the castle, spreading word of the incoming engagement that would likely follow such a grand ball.

Mingyu was quiet company as he followed behind Wooyoung's every step, watching over him like a guardian, a protector against whoever may dare try to swipe the crown from atop his head. Wooyoung was always grateful to the men who protected him loyally, finding a strong bout of peace in their presence as they accompanied him not just in his every day-to-day life, but rather in every instance, standing steadfast and loyal, unwavering in the face of any facet of danger.

But, as Wooyoung rounds the corner after descending the stairs, he spots the wooden door that would lead to the knight's quarters, a shared space with separate bedrooms, which used to be a communal maid's quarter until Wooyoung had them moved upstairs, closer to where he himself resided on the off chance he needed anything from Ji-soo and her fellow women.

He turns over his shoulder, glancing at Mingyu, offering a curt nod and a smile, turning back to glance at the older, oak door.

"Wait here. I'll be but a moment." Wooyoung takes a few steps closer as Mingyu moves to stand near the wall, looking out into the middle grounds, observing the garden that Wooyoung's mother often tended to in the late summers.

With a push, Wooyoung opens the door, choosing not to knock for fear someone else may be privy to the intimacy of this interaction. It was a rare occasion that Wooyoung truly ever visited this corner of the castle, and when he had, he tried to keep his visits minimal and hush-hush.

There he finds San, knelt down, cleaning one of his leather belts with a wire brush, seemingly focused on the task at hand as he scrubbed meticulously. Wooyoung raises a brow, closing the door with a soft push, watching as San's gaze flicks upwards to meet him.

"My Prince," San mutters quietly, straightening his posture, laying his belt down across his knee, setting the brush down on the desk to his right. "I did not know to expect you–"

Wooyoung raises his hand, letting a smile curl on his lips. "How foolish of you to assume that I came to bear your company, Sir San. Where is that lonely canine you harbor?"

San rolls his eyes, chuckling quietly. "I see that Minho expressed my morning to you."

"I'd like to think that it was quite rude of you to not let Neukdae visit into my chambers," Wooyoung expresses, biting his lower lip as he steps closer. "I am his other master, after all."

"I never denied that, your grace," San attests, watching Wooyoung with intrigue.

"Then where is he?" Wooyoung asks, clasping his hands behind his back. "I wish to see him."

"Hyunjin took him out with his wolves," San explains, gesturing towards their back door, one of which led directly outdoors. "He expressed his desire to go hunting for rabbits, well. . . not really for us, but rather the dogs themselves."

"I missed him again," Wooyoung says with a soft sigh, looking around the quarters of a room he wasn't too familiar with. "Next time you meet me before dusk, bring him with you. Sapphire misses her canine friend."

"Where was she when I was there last night?" San asks, resting a hand on his knee. "I feel as if I have not seen her in ages."

"She hides," Wooyoung says with a smile. "Sneaky little kitty, she is. I think she caught wind of how busy we are all to become in the coming days, so she has been more absent than I'd like to admit."

"That cat has always been very fond of you, your grace," San says lightly, rising out of his seat, placing the belt down on the back of the chair. "She has always been very emotionally in tune with you."

"She senses things that others cannot," Wooyoung explains, walking closer still, pausing his steps the moment he's barely an arms' length away. "Storms are the more frequent thing she warns to, but untrustworthy people. . . that is the thing she happens to be most keen of."

"Neukdae is just happy to see anyone," San says, meeting Wooyoung's gaze. "It makes me happy to know that Sapphire brings you some sort of comfort. . . especially in my absence."

"San–" Wooyoung says, almost too gently. The words feel heavy on his tongue, feeling both unsure and steadfast in what he wanted to say, completely glued to a crossroads of wanting to be genuine, while also trying to maintain the distance he knew he'd have to begin to entertain. But, just as he vowed last night, he would hold onto this, onto whatever feelings were being stirred up between them, if just for a bit longer. Maybe he was selfish, maybe he was reckless, but he couldn't find it within himself to care.

"Please do not let yourself be absent more than you need be," Wooyoung confesses, looking down at the space between them, fighting the urge to reach his hand across the few cavernous inches left between them. "Please. . . remain at my side, in whatever way you wish to be."

"I am your knight, my Prince. I will always be at your side–"

"I imply in a way that means far greater than that. You. . . seem to understand the true depths of my heart, San, in a way that no other will likely ever achieve. Being with you, being. . . yours. . . it becomes something I dream of in every waking whim." Wooyoung pauses, tightening his fist, struggling to leave his hand at his side. "I know of what I am asking, and I know of the risks, but a part of me, a very rational part of me, cannot seem to fend off the thoughts of what I would miss if I were to simply turn my cheek."

San is quiet, but Wooyoung's words do not falter.

"I am the Prince of Etheria, and you are but a knight in my brigade, but. . . that is not how I see you, San. You are more than that. You are part of the reason I wish to see another day. You are part of my routine, a part of my evenings, a part of– a part of myself that I fear I will have to lose the moment these other men arrive in my castle. My heart yearns for things I cannot have; peace, solitude, not so much a feeling for someone that goes deeper than mere attraction or prowess, but rather an emotion that makes me feel something I had not yet felt in several moons."

Wooyoung timidly reaches his hand over, hesitating, glued in a pause; hovering in the space that felt insurmountable to reach across. Yet, he does it anyway. His fingers delicately wrap around San's, a featherlight hold, a touch that was barely there, barely felt; yet it felt to be the only wrap of warmth Wooyoung had sought since the sun had risen. The feeling of San's hand within his own was foreign, but not strange enough to be unwanted. They had never, truthfully, held hands, as they'd have no reason to. But, in touching San's hand, in feeling their palms pressed together and feeling the sudden lacing of their fingers, Wooyoung now desires nothing more than to feel this again.

"I hear you," San replies, his fingers delicately holding onto Wooyoung's. "I. . . had not known what it was like to be so cherished. To have that, to have you, it means more than I could ever say."

"I just wish to hold on to this," Wooyoung mutters, glancing down, a bit too hesitant to meet the intensity of San's genuine empathy within their shared gaze. "I may end up coming across as selfish, but I cannot help it. I want what I want and I–"

"I know, Wooyoung," San interjects, reaching his free hand over, gently pressing his thumb beneath Wooyoung's chin, slowly raising his head to entice the younger's gaze to once again cross with his own. "I wish to obtain nothing more than that. Our lives, our intimacy– it is frowned upon to eyes that look from the outside. You and I, what we have found, is not even supposed to exist."

"You really believe that I do not already know that?" Wooyoung asks gently, his brows slightly furrowing. "I know what risks we entertain, San."

"I know you do," San reassures, trailing his thumb downwards along the line of Wooyoung's jaw. "But we must be careful, because I do not wish to endanger your future."

Wooyoung pauses, wanting nothing more than to argue otherwise, but he rather bites his tongue. San was stubborn in his stoic, gentleman-like protests, doing what was just natural of him; protecting the Prince, as he was sworn to. He knew he couldn't convince San to continue all of this after the ball would come to pass, and there would only be hours left to enjoy whatever connection lay between them. He longed to keep this part of himself, but even as he stood here, close and in the cusp of San's embrace, he knew that all of this was fleeing right from his grasp.

"I have to prepare for my post," San says quietly. "Mingi should be back soon, as well as Hyunjin. If you need accompanying somewhere, they will be here to assist you, my Prince."

"Where is your post?" Wooyoung asks, watching as San takes in a breath, taking a step back.

"I am to be outside, overseeing the training that will partake today. The cavalry boys will be picking their mounts today," San replies with a soft smile, almost as if he was reflecting on his own memory as a younger teen.

"You and I should take a venture out into the forest soon," Wooyoung quips, biting his lower lip. "Reign misses her handsome stallion, you know."

San laughs softly, a spark of mirth settled within his hues. "Byeol has been lonely out at pasture, as of late. He only ever sees Mingi's horse off of his post."

"Baekjo?" Wooyoung says, his smile growing. "Byeol is lucky that Baekjo is so calm. I fear that they would dare to fight over the prettiest of mares just a walk away, within the stable."

"Byeol tolerates everyone," San says. "He has always been so gentle, even since that day I picked him all those moons ago."

"Reign has taken a liking to him, and she is quite the miserable mare. She hates nearly everyone," Wooyoung says, stepping away, turning around as he observes the decor within the room. "She takes after me, I suppose. Though, I do wonder why my father chose her for me. She is quite the brat."

"I think he chose the perfect steed for you, my Prince," San replies, keeping his tone light. "But, sure. I will take you up on your offer, and after my post ends, we shall go out on a ride; just us."

"You mean that?" Wooyoung asks, turning around on his heel.

"Every word. I dare not lie," San mutters, smirking lightly. "After all, the guests shall be arriving soon. So, we should consider this our last rendezvous."

Wooyoung nods, though the words pain his heart. "We must. One last time."

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Hours pass, now nearing the sun's descent as it slowly crawls to the horizon.

Wooyoung had been preparing for the ball, much to his dismay, ordering his staff around, decorating the foyer and grand hall to that of his liking, enhanced by the colors of rich crimson and lavish gold. The crest of a lion's head was stapled around the place, hung to nearly every banner, signifying the royalty that lay within. Wooyoung sat by and watched with his advisor, Jeong Yunho, glued to his hip, meticulously laying out a plan for the evening to hopefully entice these men into wanting Wooyoung's hand in marriage.

"You've prepared well," Yunho comments, smiling small. "All of the finer details will be finished by the morning, but I must ask; what was the purpose for closing off certain quarters of the castle? Do you not wish for guests to entertain themselves in the garden?"

"I do not want the focus to drift elsewhere, Yunho. I want everything to remain present, in one area, especially so I can keep my eyes on those whom I do not trust. You forget that I do not yet know these men, and with my father's death still looming large with an empty throne, I am a bit worried for this ball to even take place."

Yunho shifts his stance, facing Wooyoung more directly, clasping his hands behind his back. "I see, your grace. I will see to it that we have guards stationed around the castle halls, in an aim to keep everyone huddled in the main foyer."

"See to it," Wooyoung comments, watching as his staff continues to shuffle about the space, carrying different floral arrangements and golden decor, moving with certain haste. "I have something to attend to, so I must leave all of this in your hands."

"So soon?" Yunho asks, but Wooyoung nods, leaving no room for argument.

"I have already sat here well past the sun's keep inspecting all of this, Yunho. See to this; I will be back at the cusp of the evening to prepare for bed."

"What shall I tell your mother about your lack of presence in regards to dinner?"

"The same thing you always do," Wooyoung says softly, turning his head to look at Yunho directly. "I will eat the moment my father's murderer is hung."

Yunho nods curtly, his expression not quite shifting beneath the weight of Wooyoung's words, as he likely was too used to hearing them.

"Remain at ease, my Prince. I will handle the details. Please, enjoy your evening," Yunho smiles, bowing his head slightly. Wooyoung turns on his heel, looking to his left, spotting Minho waiting for him at the door.

"Come, Minho, accompany me to the stables." Wooyoung treks past the doorway, the sound of Minho following closely behind without protest, his steps an echo of each of Wooyoung's.

The castle was yet crawling with activity, but he hadn't been concerned about such a venture. There'd be no eyes on him, not at this hour, especially not with the current of duties to be held with the staff in regards to the ball. Yunho, as meticulous as he was with his fading blue hair, would be standing by, arranging everything in the wake of Wooyoung's absence, seeing to the proper threshold that everything should maintain. There was to be nothing less of perfection, mostly in the eyes of Wooyoung's mother, not much else. Wooyoung could truly care less in some aspects, but he was doing it all for appeasement, nothing more.

Wooyoung deftly walks through the castle, finding the front door as he nods to the guards stationed there, pausing for a moment as the doors open inward. The night was calm, slightly colder than usual, but Wooyoung didn't mind. He continues his trek, moving out of the confines of such a place and off to the right, heading straight for the grand royal stables, decorated in red banners and lit by the light of the setting sun. The doors had been shut, but Wooyoung could hear the whinnies and soft noises coming from within, meaning that all of the horses had been put inside for the rest of the evening.

The usual stable keep had been outside, using a pitchfork to shuffle around hay, his eyes raising to meet that of Wooyoung's the moment the Prince's steps grew closer.

"Good evening, your grace," he greets, bowing slightly. "Reign has yet to be fed this evening, so if you are to be planning a ride, now would be the perfect time to do so."

"I shall take her out now, then," Wooyoung says with a smile, slowly beginning to walk towards the tall barn doors.

"Would you like for me to fetch her saddle for you, your grace?" The keep asks, but Wooyoung shakes his head.

"Do not concern yourself with it. She is my horse, after all. I quite enjoy saddling her up myself once in a while." Wooyoung turns away, listening as the keep says something in return, but he hadn't heard it.

Minho steps forwards, opening the door with a quiet breath, allowing Wooyoung entry into the lavish stables, watching as horses turn their heads towards the noise with their ears perked forwards. Wooyoung smiles as he greets each horse with a gentle hum, finding intrigue in the way his men all chose a different breed, ranging with a variety of names, all fit to their purpose of cavalry men, guards, or even wagon workers.

"There is the pretty lady herself," Wooyoung says, reaching his hand out, stopping at a stall on the left side of the building, almost isolated and by itself, left to harbor a deep gray thoroughbred, laden with dapples and a dark mane. Her muzzle was dark, her eyes a deep shade of sepia, her ears slowly swiveling as she listened to Wooyoung's every word. "Would you care to see Byeol tonight, Reign?"

Wooyoung watches as the mare moves her lips against his hand, likely searching for treats or anything that might've been held in his palm. He smiles, brushing his opposite hand against her cheek, turning his head to look at Minho.

"Can you call for Sir San? He is to be accompanying me on this ride tonight."

Minho bows his head. "At once, your grace."

With a careful, practiced bout of movements, Wooyoung guides Reign out of her stall, getting her to stand compliantly as he tied her to a nearby hook. He moves to grab her saddle and bridle, searching about the tack room for the necessities of his equipment before returning back to his mare. He takes a deep breath, hoisting the saddle gently onto her back, settled on the saddle pad just beneath it. Reign shifts, not in an uncomfortable manner, rather just familiarizing herself with the weight, turning her head slightly, watching Wooyoung with a curious flick of her ears.

Wooyoung continues through his every move, gently securing the saddle to Reign's body, fitting her belly strap appropriately before moving to attach her breast plate.

Just as he was fastening the last of the straps, approaching footsteps drew his attention away, followed by the click of hooves through the barn's corridor. Wooyoung looks up and to his left, spotting San approaching with his gallantly stoic ebony Friesian in tow.

"You kept your promise," Wooyoung mutters, leaning away from Reign, resting his hand on her neck. "You must really wish to venture on a ride with me."

"I am not one to break my promises, especially to my Prince," San replies, guiding Byeol with a gentle tug. Wooyoung rolls his eyes playfully, turning to grab Reign's bridle before moving to stand in front of her, softly removing the halter that kept her tied to her post.

"Byeol looks like he is ready to escape the confines of this castle," Wooyoung mutters, adjusting the bridle in his grasp, holding the bit in his palm. "Or maybe is it just you, Sir San?"

"Perhaps," San replies, chuckling quietly. "I cannot deny that I am a bit. . . excited."

Wooyoung hums in acknowledgement, raising the bit to Reign's lips as she accepts it, allowing the male to finish his meticulous preparations, adjusting the straps as gently as he could. With a breath, he grabs the reins in his hand, turning around, facing San with a smile on his lips.

"Ready to venture past the walls?" He asks, watching as San nods, slowly beginning to turn around.

"Ready as I could ever be," he replies, guiding Byeol into turning around, leading the way through the stable's corridor. Wooyoung follows with Reign's hooves clicking with their shared slow pace, matching that of Byeol's gentle walk.

The setting sun slowly gleamed down upon them, making the horses' coat shine subtly, the quiet shifts of their gear moving in tandem with each stretch and pull of their muscles as they walked. Eventually, San pauses, moving around Byeol as he settles near Wooyoung, offering his hand as he kneels down. Wooyoung laughs quietly, partially expecting this behavior and yet finding some sort of gallantry about the entire interaction itself. He carefully places his foot in San's palm, grabbing the horn of the saddle while the other rests on the seat, allowing San to help him mount up with a gentle push.

Now, settled atop Reign, Wooyoung adjusts the reins in his grasp, feeling as she shifts and slowly moves, chewing on her bit with a trace of boredom. San quickly mounts Byeol, settling into his saddle with practiced ease, turning to glance at Wooyoung. His face was highlighted in hues of oranges and yellow, settling atop his features with an elegant glow. Wooyoung feels his heart stutter, his chest constricting, causing his words to fail and leave the cusp of his tongue.

"Lead the way," San mutters, smiling small, giving Byeol a soft pat on his neck.

With a press of his heels into Reign's sides, Wooyoung begins to lead the way, tapping her sides again to entice her into a trot. San follows, encouraging a matched pace from Byeol, riding beside Wooyoung, if not just barely behind Reign's extended stride.

Wooyoung guides San towards the inner castle wall, watching as the gates open for them automatically, thanks to the stationed guards waiting at the ready. Wooyoung turns Reign off to the left, moving away from the innermost parts of Etheria and off towards the nearby forest, laden with trails and a hidden spot that Wooyoung had been fond of ever since he was young.

The warmth of the sun wasn't much to compete with the chill of the evening breeze, dancing through the trees and settling atop the grass, weaving its way through the mane of each horse, reminding Wooyoung of the subtle space settled between himself and San, causing his head to turn, glancing at his knight with a raise of his brow.

"How was training?" He asks, watching as San gently pulls back the reins, slowing Byeol down to a walk as he rides side-to-side with Wooyoung.

"It was interesting, you know," San begins, resting his hand on the horn of the saddle. "Watching these young men choose the horse that will lead them into battle one day–"

"Who says we're going to be engulfed into a war?" Wooyoung jests playfully, earning a scoff from San.

"Who knows what the future will hold, your grace," San replies, glancing at Wooyoung. "I know not of what may come, but we can never be too sure."

"Do you think that Fleuria truly seeks to take my crown?" Wooyoung asks, causing San to widen his eyes slightly, almost taken aback by the sudden approach of a different subject.

"Prince Sunghoon–" San starts, resting one of his hands on his thigh as the saddle beneath him squeaks and shifts with Byeol's every movement, his walk paced in tandem with that of Reign's. "He tends to be more callous and reckless, does he not?"

"He is very unnerving, I cannot lie," Wooyoung admits, listening to the soft thumps of each horses' hooves. "My mother worries endlessly about him. He is quite far from Etheria, way beyond the mountains that lay behind Celestia, and yet, she fears that he will arrive suddenly, taking siege on our castle with an army that may outpower our own."

"There is nothing to worry about, my Prince. Sunghoon may be rather. . . tricky to keep an eye on from this far, though we would know long before they were to ever come. Auretica and Celestia would know of their movements, as their kingdoms lay directly in Fleuria's path."

"I suppose," Wooyoung says, looking ahead, watching as the forest slowly begins to envelop them.

The shift from grassland to the outskirts of a smaller forest was slightly relaxing, in a way that Wooyoung wishes to relish in. There felt to be a secretive layer of this different environment, making lines of sight harder to maintain with such thick foliage. The trees were tall and full of leaves, hanging delicately above the path that the pair was traveling down.

Bushes and branches lined the path, laced with the faint traces of animal tracks and leaf litter, woven between patches of grass and loose stones, guiding the horses as they walked without clear direction, simply content to just be walking together with their riders.

"Do you worry of what tomorrow will bring?" San asks, his tone softer, carrying something within the tune of his voice that Wooyoung hadn't heard before. Apprehension, maybe.

"I assume that Prince Yeosang of Nautica will appear first, but I cannot be sure of the others. I am a bit. . . wary of the arrival of such esteemed guests, but I cannot show fear in the face of this. I must take it all within stride, handle it that way my father would have."

"No one ever said that you need to remain expressionless," San says, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of Wooyoung's expression.

"I know," Wooyoung replies, turning to smile at him. "But I must do what is correct of me, right?"

Wooyoung turns to gaze in front of him as San nearly was about to respond, spotting a fork in the road; a choice. He knew where these trails led, as he had run away from the castle on many occasions, but the place he wished to take San to was only but a short distance away.

"Off to the left, there is a secret place I wish to show you," Wooyoung mutters, raising his hand to point towards the shift in the path, earning a noncommittal tone from San in turn.

"We must turn back soon, your grace. I do not wish to keep you out longer when the sun is about to set."

"If you so wish to take me back to the castle, you will have to catch me first, Sannie." Wooyoung turns, offering him a wink, kicking into Reign's sides as he ushers her forwards, galloping away from San as he laughs and begins to chase after him.

He could hear Byeol's hoofbeats behind him, following his every move as he guides Reign to the left, running through the paved trail, ducking down to avoid branches and leaves, laughing when he hears San call after him. His voice was nearly lost amongst the thuds and thunderous sound of the horses' hooves, chaotically echoing throughout the forest as the two ran through the vacant woods.

"Catch me if you can!" Wooyoung shouted over his shoulder, giving another encouraging, but gentle, kick to Reign's sides, feeling as she responded with a slightly bigger stride.

As Reign turned the corner, a break in the trees came into view. A wide, moonlit pond comes into view, barely overcast with vines and branches, laden with lily pads and sporadic throes of duckweed. Wooyoung pulls on the reins, guiding Reign into a halt, her nostrils flaring from the effort of such a chase. Not a moment later, Byeol comes trotting up, his breaths heavy, a snort rolling through his nostrils as San laughs, halting his horse to reach over and gently nudge Wooyoung.

"You trickster," he mutters, earning a laugh from Wooyoung in turn.

"Come here," Wooyoung replies, adjusting the way he was sitting before dismounting completely, pulling his reins over Reign's head. "I want to share something with you."

San complies, following completely, dismounting and leading Byeol to where Wooyoung had walked, tying the horses to a tree nearby.

Wooyoung carefully walks his way down to the shore, sitting down on a cracked, yet rather large, log. The wood creaks beneath him as he sits, but it doesn't break, holding strong as more weight is added the moment San sits down. Wooyoung looks down, smiling softly, listening to the noises of nature surrounding them beneath the gentle twinkle of the moon.

Frogs were croaking, insects chirping, trees rustling quietly as another breeze weaved its way overhead. It was serene; the perfect backdrop to allow Wooyoung the chance to be completely genuine, far away from the chaos of his own kingdom.

"You know," Wooyoung begins, keeping his voice light. "No one makes me feel alive in the way you do."

"In what way?" San replies, clasping his hands together, resting his elbows against his thighs as he leans forward slightly.

"In a way that feels hard to describe," Wooyoung says, glancing up, watching the reflection of the moon shimmer across the subtle ripples of water. "You just know me for who I am, not for what others see that lay beneath the thick of a cloak and the gold of a crown."

"I just see you, as you are," San responds, leaning closer, pressing his knee to Wooyoung's. "That is all I have ever saw."

"Promise me something, Sir San," Wooyoung mutters, turning his head to the left, looking at San with a plea of affection, watching as the male's gaze softens.

"Anything, your grace."

"Do not leave me," Wooyoung asks selfishly, knowing fully well what may come of their continued foolishness. "I know what you have said, for what your fears may be after the arrival of such guests, but I fear I. . . I fear I will lose myself without you."

"I will always be here," San says, but Wooyoung shakes his head.

"No, San. Do not remain just as my knight, as someone who protects the dignified version of me. Remain at my side for the person you see beyond the lavish suits and gold jewelry. Be here, with me, not just for the Prince everyone else sees."

San studies Wooyoung's gaze for a moment, almost as if he was processing the weight of his words. Wooyoung holds his breath, listening as the ambient noises around them suffocate his thoughts into silence, clinging on to their shared warmth. The sounds of the horses grazing behind them, the flow of the water and the breeze rustling through the branches created an echoing backdrop to a persistent plea, one that Wooyoung found himself repeating, though he felt as if San wasn't truly listening to his every word. He didn't wish to just entertain this intimacy for the remainder of his marital freedom, but rather through the thicket of it all, marriage or not.

He was being selfish, sure; and yet he still couldn't find it within himself to care.

"I will stay," San replies, his jaw tight, surrendering to the vulnerability of the moment. "I will be there, for every version of you, even in the dark of night."

Wooyoung smiles, his eyes lulling slightly as he reaches a hand up to cup San's jaw, pulling him closer. He leans closer, pressing his forehead to San's, feeling the male's breath warm his lips.

"No matter what may come with the rise of the sun, just remember these words, Sir San," he mutters, giving in to the pull that dares to bind them together, muttering his next words in a near-kiss. "You are all my heart ever desires."