ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ ♕ ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

┗━━ 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥 ━━┛

The moment Yeonjun steps further into the castle, Wooyoung's heart seizes. He's confused, albeit briefly, watching as someone from a similar title to his own closes the distance between them with a curt demeanor. He's gallant, maybe a bit stoic, but Wooyoung can sense something bubbling beneath the surface. A curiosity, maybe? Blatant arrogance in theme with his title? Wooyoung couldn't be sure, but he forced himself to silence, composing himself to force a smile onto his lips, feeling the steely gaze of San's eyes boring into him.

"Prince Yeonjun," Wooyoung greets, taking in the full account of the male's attire. "Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"Pleasure's all mine, your grace," Yeonjun replies smoothly, bowing his head in a motion of respect. Yeonjun extends his hand out, which brings Wooyoung to briefly hesitate, if but for a moment before he raises his hand and lays it into Yeonjun's palm. He watches the male carefully as he bends his head down, pressing a gentle kiss against Wooyoung's knuckles.

A part of Wooyoung should've felt flattered, but a bigger half of him feels lost. He knew San was watching all of this, likely clenching his teeth and keeping himself silent, a composed figure in the corner of the room, anticipating everything yet nothing all at once. Wooyoung didn't want to meet his gaze right then, knowing that it'd likely be too charged emotionally, causing his heart to rupture even more than it already had.

"On behalf of all of Auretica, I thank you for inviting me into your home, especially for such a ball," Yeonjun says softly. Wooyoung eyes him for a moment, calming the internal storm of doubt with a small smile, trying to remain as composed as he could manage. His heart felt almost as if it was being ripped at the seams, but he was forced to pretend as if nothing was happening above the surface. He needed to be calm, to receive each gesture as if it were the most normal thing in the world to him.

"We are pleased to have you," Wooyoung replies, keeping his tone steady, almost dignified. "Etheria welcomes you with utmost respect."

"Tell me, your grace–" Yeonjun begins, straightening his posture slightly as their hands part, drifting back to their respectful sides. "What deals are you to propose if we were to unite under the covenant of marriage?"

Wooyoung nods, offering a polite smile as he watches Yeonjun's body language, assessing his behavior in a move to gather as much intel as he could manage. "There are many things to consider, quite frankly. There is the widening of trade routes and supply chains, while also furnishing one's army with utmost care, as well as broadening security for unknown threats."

"Unknown threats?" Yeonjun pries, raising a brow. "Are you aware of something I am not?"

"No," Wooyoung replies, offering a light chuckle to try and alleviate Yeonjun's worry. "We can never be sure of what threats remain hidden in the shadows. Assassination attempts, poisoning, arson–"

"Expect the unexpected?" Yeonjun inquires, earning a nod from Wooyoung in turn.

"Precisely." Wooyoung clasps his hands together, watching as Yeonjun smiles. His eyes were alight with something that Wooyoung couldn't place, a possible mirror into the soul of a man he hadn't laid eyes on before. Yeonjun was indeed handsome, Wooyoung wouldn't be blind in admitting to it, however, there lay nothing electric to spark between them. It was barren, lost of anything romantic, a complete contrast to the novels and dreams he saw in the pictures played within his mind. This wasn't that spark of immediate romance where he knew he could continue on as King with someone he loved at his side. This was a mere friend, an alliance, a will to extend his hand to offer an ally support when the world sought to be too tough.

Yeonjun was taller than he was, maybe a bit more stoic and gallant in his gestures and tone; Wooyoung could tell that the schooling his parents had done truly paid off for them to get such a well-mannered son, but Wooyoung could see beyond all of it. Partially, maybe. There was something brewing beneath the surface of Yeonjun's coy smile and his endearing gaze, maybe a plot into marriage or seeking a genuine connection, though Wooyoung couldn't tell. He was confused, if only briefly, wondering why his heart was screaming to be elsewhere. This was his duty, was it not? He was supposed to marry one of these three suitors, and if the first one went as disappointingly as this, what were the other two to withhold? He knew his heart longed to be with San, as every nerve and inch of his entire being ached to be at his side. San felt to be the one true thing he could never quite have, but yet, now that he's tasted him and allowed him into his bed, he feels conflicted in more horrific ways than one.

"Tell me, Wooyoung," Yeonjun begins. "What other things does the Prince enjoy on a lonely day here in Etheria?"

Wooyoung turns slightly, gesturing with his hand to move further into the ballroom, trying to guide Yeonjun away from the eyes he can feel boring into the side of his head. He knew San was trying to understand, but in the male's little time within court, he knew that in seeing all of this would stir up a million emotions, making it that much more difficult to convey his true feelings in the matter. Wooyoung felt deeply for him. He well and truly did. But his sense of duty marred over every single urge to defy every part of this god forsaken role, loomed over by the portrait of his overbearing father, laden with responsibility, threatened by the gaze of his mother. He didn't know what else to do, but in time, he'd hope that San would linger around long enough for him to simply explain.

Yeonjun follows Wooyoung's steps as they move further inward, heading towards a few tables that had been set up nearby and off to an adjacent wall, laden with golden cups, filled to the brim with wine and other smaller foods, likely pieces of fish or some other delicacy that Wooyoung truly didn't fancy.

"I quite like reading," Wooyoung admits lowly, watching as Yeonjun's fingers delicately wrap around a glass, raising the wine to his lips. "I also cherish riding my horse. My father gave her to me as a birthday gift a long time ago, so we grew up together, practically."

"I do share in your love for riding," Yeonjun says after a sip of the wine, smiling small. "Tell me, what did your father pick out for you?"

"A thoroughbred," Wooyoung replies, glancing over at the glasses of wine, rather choosing to distance himself from the thought of enjoying one. "She is a lot smarter than I would rather admit, but she can be full of attitude. She knows what she wants and usually gets it–"

"Like her rider, I would assume?" Yeonjun teases, raising his brows as he takes another sip, earning a flush to saunter across the top of Wooyoung's cheeks.

"I–" Wooyoung pauses, allowing a smile to break through his facade. "Yes, most likely."

"I was gifted an andalusian," Yeonjun explains, gesturing idly with his hand as he continues to speak. "He can be rather stubborn, but is the least reactive horse I have had the pleasure of riding."

"I have heard wonderful things about andalusians, though my father had always been keen on horses with great athletic ability," Wooyoung continues, raising his gaze to briefly scan across the room before he pauses. "He too rode on a thoroughbred, but he was the biggest horse I had ever met. He was very tall, almost a near gentle giant."

"Why near?"

"He hated everyone besides my father," Wooyoung says with a soft smile, looking down, clasping his hands together to keep his habits idle, nearly reaching to fidget with the rings on his fingers. "My father. . . I cannot express him in mere words. He really just had that aura around him, and the God's saw that. He was too great for us, I presume."

"I am sorry to hear about your father," Yeonjun says softly, his expression softening. Wooyoung glances up, nodding subtly before he takes a breath inwards, steeling himself for the conversation as it turns an unexpected corner. "My father had always spoken so highly of King Tae. It was a shame to hear about his illness."

"That was my father," Wooyoung admits, keeping his tone light despite the heaviness settling over his chest. "Everyone loved him, regardless of what standing they wore or from where they harbored. My father was the kind of man that everyone respected, and though I grew up beneath his ideals, I only can hope to be as much of a king as he."

Yeonjun nods, maybe in a quiet notion of understanding or something similar, but for whatever it may have been stirred Wooyoung into a place of ease, relieving the weight on his chest, if only briefly. Wooyoung watches as Yeonjun approaches, closing the distance slowly, albeit hesitantly. Wooyoung raises a brow, his shoulders slightly tensing before he sees Yeonjun reach across, taking Wooyoung's hand into his own.

"I may not know or understand the true ordeal of one's parents being gone from this world, but I do know that loss is a horrible thing to face, alas harbor alone. Do not carry such a weight on your own, your grace. Feel free to speak plainly, as I would never judge you."

Wooyoung glances down before trailing his eyes back upwards, offering Yeonjun a subtle squeeze to his hand before he pulls his own away, feeling the slightest bout of uncomfort sink into his skin.

"Thank you," Wooyoung responds, keeping his tone low. "I truly could never wish such a loss on someone, but to know that I am not alone in such a venture lessens the burden I carry."

"Fear not. I am but a man who cares not for a social life or spectacle. I just seek a healthy alliance, and a well-maintained marriage."

For the first time since meeting Yeonjun, Wooyoung feels an ounce of comfort bleed from Yeonjun's words. He wasn't completely sure if it was a false set of confidence, or if his heart was just yearning to be understood by someone within a similar situation, but there was something about the male that was oddly endearing.

"I appreciate your candor," Wooyoung admits, bowing his head slightly, offering a smile. "I will consider everything, as your earnesty and genuine demeanor convey a lot, Yeonjun."

"Appreciated, your grace," Yeonjun replies back, offering a smile before he reaches for his drink, only to be briefly interrupted by that of his advisor, who remained quiet and off to the side for the beginnings of the evening.

"Apologies, your grace," the male interrupts, bowing his head in sincerity. "Someone from the isle of nobility seeks your council, my Prince."

"Thank you, Soobin'ah, I will make haste," Yeonjun acknowledges, the sudden edges of his soft tone dismantling into that of command, lacking any of the tenderness it once held. Wooyoung stands idly by, clasping his hands together, feeling himself tense slightly as he watches Soobin, Yeonjun's apparent advisor, walk away without flashing a single wince in the male's direction, completely unaffected by the tone raised from Yeonjun's lips.

Perhaps Auretica handled things a bit. . . taboo? Wooyoung couldn't be sure, nor could he truly decipher what was actually happening beyond the closed gates of such a kingdom, since he himself had yet to truly pay a visit.

But, Wooyoung didn't like the tone that Yeonjun offered. He was harsher, strict-sounding, a completely new person that Wooyoung feared he'd meet behind closed doors. Soobin didn't seem to mind, as he was likely privy to this very attitude every morning that he attended to Yeonjun's needs. Partially, Wooyoung could understand the need for curt behavior, but he couldn't imagine talking to Yunho like that every day. Yunho didn't deserve that, let alone anyone.

Yeonjun takes another sip of his wine, an amused yet irritated glare resting within his hues before he sets down his glass of wine on the table, discarding it completely.

"Well, your grace," Yeonjun begins, gesturing with his hand. "I have matters to tend to. But please, save me a portion of your night so we may talk once more."

"Of course," Wooyoung replies, though he wasn't even sure if he could believe the words he had been saying.

Yeonjun turns and leaves, leaving Wooyoung standing near the table, left at a loss. His words simply feel too frail to mutter, clenching his teeth together as his jaw tightens, glancing down to steady himself. The encounter wasn't necessarily awful, but that glimmer of something else, perhaps a window into Yeonjun's true self, wasn't anything that he was expecting to see. Wooyoung raises his gaze, taking a subtle breath inwards, scanning the growing crowd as more lords and ladies began to attend the ball as the festivities began, intermingling and coexisting with bounds of laughter and drinks. He knew Yunho was somewhere within the fray, handling everything with his usual meticulous grace, seeing to the proper handling of every dish and guest. Wooyoung knew he didn't have to worry himself with the intricate details of the evening, but he couldn't help but think into the interactions he had held thus far. There were still two suitors to meet, and he couldn't properly fathom just how uneasy he began to feel.

In a motion to soothe the ache in his chest, Wooyoung's gaze drifts over to the corner of the room, finding the stature of San's familiar figure, seeing that his attention was shifted elsewhere. Wooyoung watches him, a surge of pain sinking into the depth of his chest as he stood there, waiting and hoping, praying that San would simply turn his head to meet his gaze, even if things had seemed too difficult to understand. But, he never does, nor does he have the opportunity.

"Prince Jung Wooyoung, I am pleased to welcome Prince Han Jisung from Celestia into the realm of Etheria." Mingyu's voice was booming, loud enough to echo over the vast but subtle chaos from the crowd that stood between Wooyoung and the front doors. Wooyoung can feel the eyes of everyone in the room boring into him, staring daggers into his soul, but he pays no mind, offering a quick, subtle smile as he moves across the ballroom floor, walking between guests as they parted, offering a small walkway in a motion to clear space for the Prince to walk.

As Wooyoung nears the doors, he eyes Mingyu for a moment before his gaze shifts, raking across the figure of a more petite Prince. His hair was long and brunette, curled near the ends as it just barely reached his shoulders. His eyes were a deep umber in color, glimmering with a clear grace that was likely practiced to appear composed, though Wooyoung could sense the tension stored away in his jaw. He was nervous, playing his part like a dutiful son would, even if he desired not to.

"Prince Han Jisung," Wooyoung welcomes first, offering a slight bow of his head, a smile smeared across his lips. "I welcome you to my home. I hope your journey was smooth."

Jisung seems to appreciate the initiation in conversation as he bows his head respectfully, clasping his hands together, offering a polite smile back.

"The journey to your home was pleasant," Jisung responds, straightening his posture. "Your home is very beautiful, your grace. I have always heard of how beautiful Etheria is, but I did not yet expect all of this."

"Etheria is the heart of it all," Wooyoung says with a hum. "I have heard lovely things about Celestia, too. All of the trees, the lush forest, the animals–"

"We have no shortage of nature at my home," Jisung says, a slight laugh accompanying his tone. "I would love to show it all to you one day, as I am sure the scenery would be well loved."

"Gladly, I would accept such an offer," Wooyoung replies, his smile growing by the second. Jisung's eyes now seemed alight with something warmer, his shoulders burdened by less of an obvious stress, now catered to the calm atmosphere Wooyoung had greeted him with.

"Ah, where are my manners–" Wooyoung chastises himself lightly, stepping aside as he gestures towards the tables and other guests. "Did you need any refreshments at all? I know the journey was long."

"I am alright, your grace. Thank you," Jisung's tone was softer than before, though his composure remained as another male approached, pausing off to Jisung's left. "Oh, your grace, this is my advisor, Chan."

Wooyoung looks up and towards Jisung's side, now spotting a taller male with broad shoulders. His hair was dark and straight, though dangling in front of his friendly gaze. This male, Chan as he was so called, poised himself with a gallant grace that Wooyoung immediately took notice of. Perhaps it was purely just his demeanor, or maybe it was just the aura radiating off of him.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance," Wooyoung greets, offering a curt smile.

"Pleasure's mine," Chan responds, bowing his head in a respectful gesture.

"Your grace," Yunho's voice appears from behind Wooyoung, laden with a gentler tone, likely to not startle the Prince away from his conversation. Wooyoung smiles at Jisung and Chan, wetting his lips before he speaks again.

"Excuse me, I have a matter to attend to. Please, make yourselves at home and enjoy the festivities."

Jisung and Chan bow in near tandem before parting away side by side, mingling into the crowd without the utterance of a word. Turning on his heel, Wooyoung faces Yunho, a look of concern flashing over his features as he watches Yunho glance around the surrounding area.

"What is it, Yunho? Can it not wait?" Wooyoung whispers, looking up at Yunho as the male hovers close, dropping his tone into a murmur.

"There has been an anonymous letter received at your desk," Yunho mutters. "Be calm, my Prince. I have not yet read the contents of what lay inside, but it seemed rather urgent."

"How can you know if you have not seen the words within?" Wooyoung questions, his brows pinching together momentarily.

"The royal seal was enclosed around the scroll, my Prince," Yunho replies, the words striking a chord within Wooyoung's chest.

Wooyoung takes a moment, leaning away from Yunho, glancing down at his hands as he struggles to keep himself still. The royal seal, only ever being red in color, was hardly used for anything other than urgent requests, like supply or trade routes, or even the delicate webs of alliances. Wooyoung had rarely encountered such a situation where the seal would be needed, and now knowing that something had been settled at his desk with an urgent message, it all only made his heart feel that much more complicated.

Without wasting another moment, Wooyoung nods, glancing at Yunho to try and express his wordless worry in any way that he was able, especially when words felt to not be enough. With a breath, Wooyoung turns, now facing his grand front doors, watching as Mingyu eyes him carefully. With a subtle smile, Wooyoung tries to disengage Mingyu's rather protective instincts, dismantling the tension that was stored away in such a gesture by simply pretending to be okay.

Mingyu nods, though hesitantly, but accepting nonetheless.

Just as he was about to turn once more, the doors opened with a creaking noise, welcoming the low light from the setting sun as it wafted inwards. Wooyoung watches, his eyes widening slightly in anticipation, dawning on the realization that his third and final suitor was approaching.

"Prince Jung Wooyoung, I am pleased to welcome Prince Kang Yeosang from Nautica into the realm of Etheria," Mingyu speaks out, his voice carrying in a low gallantry that never failed to slightly catch Wooyoung off-guard.

The male was relatively his height, though his hair was darker with lighter streaks of blonde messed through it. He was lean, his eyes sharp, though alight with something calmer with the aura he presented. Wooyoung couldn't tell if he held nicer intentions, but with the front that was portrayed, along with the navy lapels and gold accents of his jacket, Wooyoung could sense something prestigious radiating off of Yeosang. Though, he will admit, he was overwhelmingly beautiful.

"Prince Yeosang," Wooyoung greets, almost about to speak again before he gets cut off by Yeosang's surprisingly husky tone.

"I have heard such wonderful things about you," Yeosang remarks, a smile falling onto the delicate lines of his lips. "I do not wish to be so forward, but I do look forward to our future chats together."

Wooyoung allows himself to relax, smiling small, listening to the joyous tone of Yeosang's voice carry through the small space between them. He was worried, only partially, that every single suitor may come with their hand extended, flattering their way to a position at his side. Though, not everyone had done such a thing. Yeosang was rather chipper; excited or enthralled, really. Wooyoung enjoyed having such a contrasting greeting with each of the males, Yeosang specifically, which only seemed to make this decision at choosing one of them that much less burdensome. He was still nervous about the entire concept of marriage to someone he hardly knew, but with how different each suitor remained, he felt himself grow to be more at ease knowing that he'd likely mesh well with one of them rather than none of them.

"I look forward to our meetings," Wooyoung expresses, straightening his posture. "Tell me, was your journey far? I hear that Nautica is by the sea, though I have yet to see it."

"I would love to take you sailing some time," Yeosang remarks, raising his head slightly, a playful gleam stark in his eyes. "When the tide is not yet too rough, of course."

Wooyoung smiles, a soft laugh bubbling at the back of this tongue. "Yes, of course."

"I fancy a drink," Yeosang says with a slight hum of mischief. "Care to join me?"

Wooyoung, just as he was about to respond, glances upright, catching sight of the front door opening once more, revealing two familiar faces he has long since missed.

"I would love to, but I must greet some other guests. But please, swing by my chambers at any time while you are here to stay, and we could even go to the lake for a moment of peace."

Yeosang nods, though Wooyoung could tell that his words didn't quite dim the shine there was to Yeosang's demeanor. "I understand. I shall see you another time."

Wooyoung bows his head respectfully just as Yeosang shares in the same gesture, parting away with his advisor in tow, one of which looked terribly young, yet the longer locks of his dirty blonde hair seemed to hide his fox-like features. Wooyoung offers both of the males a smile as they depart into the crowd, leaving Wooyoung to turn his gaze back to two familiar figures as they approach, hands delicately held between them.

"Lord Seonghwa, Lord Hongjoong," Wooyoung greets, his smile widening as he watches the lords of Islan approach, gallant in their garments and adorned in Etheria's crimson reds. "I am so happy to see the both of you."

"Please," Seonghwa says, waving his hand in playful dismissal. "As if we would ever miss an event hosted by the Prince himself."

"You flatter me." Wooyoung steps closer, holding his hands out, watching as both Hongjoong and Seonghwa place their free hands into his own. "By the God's, I swear it. I have missed the both of you so dearly. You have no idea just how cruel it has been without either of you."

"We are here now, your grace," Hongjoong assures, squeezing Wooyoung's hand. "Tell us; has your eye caught interest with any of those you seek to marry?"

"Oh, please," Wooyoung laughs, squeezing both of the male's hands back before he releases them, gesturing idly to the crowd behind him. "I have only but met these men, I would not be too keen on choosing love merely at first glance like the two of you have. I am not so lucky in the world of romance."

"But you have suitors, do you not?" Seonghwa retorts, leaning closer. "Surely one of them is worth marrying."

"It is not a matter of worth, my Lord," Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes. "Shall I entertain you with the details over a glass of wine later?"

Hongjoong and Seonghwa's eyes equally lit up, their expressions evertelling of just how much they were anticipating such a meeting.

"A lovely idea," Hongjoong affirms, glancing to look at his husband. "We would never dare to miss it."

Wooyoung clasps his hands together, turning to gaze at Mingyu who had stood nearby, watching as he simply nods, giving the signal to the end of arriving guests. With a breath, Wooyoung steps aside, gesturing towards the main room, delicately placing his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder.

"Please, head into the ballroom. I will be making an announcement soon," Wooyoung says lightly, earning a curt nod and a softening gaze from the pair. They walked away, hands still entwined, their steps graceful and moving in tandem, lost into the fray of evening festivities.

Wooyoung hesitantly moves himself back into the fold, listening as a pair of steps move themselves closer, but he doesn't feel the need to look as a familiar presence looms over his right shoulder.

"Is everything ready, Yunho?"

"Yes, your grace," Yunho replies, following Wooyoung's every step carefully. "The crowd is beyond prepared for your speech. Your mother has noted a few things for you–"

"Of course she has," Wooyoung says with a scoff, rolling his eyes. "Can she ever just stay out of my affairs? Must she always meddle in everything that I do?"

"She is your mother, my Prince."

"I know that," Wooyoung says hesitantly, slowing his steps, slightly glancing over his shoulder. "But she acts more like a thorn in my side rather than that of my own mother."

"Be calm, your grace," Yunho chides, placing a hand on Wooyoung's lower back. "Share your words, make your statement, then we can simply enjoy the evening."

Wooyoung nods, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket before making his way to the platform that was on the back wall, highlighted with a throne and large rose vases. Wooyoung could hear the murmurs of chatter and conversation bleed into silence as he approached the throne, delicately tracing his fingertips against the lapels and beads of fabric adoring his torso, straightening and smoothing out the ridges, hoping to feeling a wash of ease tremble over his skin to calm the tide of his anxious storms.

This speech was everything he didn't wish to entertain, as he'd be declaring the impending chaos of his upcoming marriage to one of these suitors that he barely knew. He didn't wish to dedicate his heart to any other relationship, but with an overwhelming sense of duty and an unfortunate reality, Wooyoung found himself truly torn at the seams, wondering if he'd ever claim the clarity he so desperately sought out.

As he reaches his throne, he turns, clasping his hands together, allowing his fingers to brush over his rings and knuckles lightly, turning to gaze at everyone who had been in attendance. He recognized many of his Lords and Ladies, as well as some newcomers within the society of Etheria. There were older faces amongst the sea of new ones, but all Wooyoung can focus on is the closed doors, the eyes of the crowd upon him, and the glare of worry coming from San in the corner of the room.

Glasses in hand, the crowd quiets itself, turning towards Wooyoung with anticipation laced in their gaze, waiting patiently for the Prince to finally speak.

"I thank you all for attending this evening, as the matters ahead will dictate the future of Etheria and those who wish to stand by our side. In the shadow of my father, I am reminded that loneliness is within the eye of the beholder. Ruling alone, being by oneself, handling the tides of this reality without someone to shoulder it with can present itself in a fearsome way, causing one to recoil in terror. My father, who had ruled alone for many moons, asked for me to marry wisely, to not follow in his path once I had succeeded his throne," Wooyoung pauses, eyeing each of his guests with a subtle breath, likely thinking too far into his next words. The scroll of what he was supposed to say was sitting on the table to his left, and though he knew he should read from it, he chose not to. He didn't care about what his mother wished for him to say, choosing to pull from the feeling in his gut, one of which he felt guided by the ghost of his father.

"By the order of the council and that of Etheria, I would wish to proclaim my official search for a partner to sit beside me beneath the crown. The moon is currently half renewed, and by the full cusp of a new moon, I declare that I will be married." Wooyoung listens as the voices before him mumble out in a thread of gasps and shock, but he could hear the excitement laden within the crowd nonetheless. "Etheria is forever in need of allies against our enemies, both far and close to home. I am in search of a partner who will not only unite our kingdoms, but love Etheria as if it were their own. Etheria is not just a farming country filled with livestock and city folk, but rather royal titles, fishing towns, mines and a plethora of work. Etheria is my home, my country, and its people are the ones I wish to serve. I promise you, with every ounce of my heart, that I will seek to do what is right for the people of Etheria, and not of my own morals."

Wooyoung watches as Yeonjun steps forward, raising his glass of wine with a smile, toasting with a slight raise of his voice, catching Wooyoung's attention readily, unable to ignore the prowess Yeonjun's tone held.

"To the future King," Yeonjun suggests in toast, earning a hum of agreement and echoed sentiments in return, golden glasses gently twinkling in the candle light as they all were held upright, gleaming with promise to admire the future King.

Wooyoung smiles, meeting Yeonjun's gaze before he looks upwards, biting his tongue, taking a breath inwards as he comes across San's gaze, watching as the male's jaw tenses almost immediately. Wooyoung kept his composure, even though he felt himself being ripped in half on the inside. San was looking at him, his eyes cast over in something unfamiliar, jaw set and teeth clenched, his shoulders tense as he stood like a figure of pure authority, leaving not a single ounce of the man he knew beneath the heft of his armor. Wooyoung's gaze softens, if only briefly, but San refuses to look at him. His eyes move to glance somewhere else, the dark crimson hues of his hair slowly beginning to dangle in front of his gaze, making it harder to gauge his true expression, especially from this far.

For the first time in a long time, Wooyoung feels torn. A part of him longs to be with San, to reassure him in a bout of playful teasing and mischievous kisses, to press a hand against his bare skin, racing up and down the line of his abdominal muscles and lower, wishing to silence the thoughts in San's mind. He wanted to be the only thing San thought about, dreamt about, talked about; he wanted everything. But, he'd be selfish in doing so.

The other half of him, the rational, saddened half, knows that he'd put San in danger just by simply being near him and lavishing him in affection. He knew that this path he was on was anything but steady, but this is what his father intended. To be present for his coronation, to play the part of royalty, to bleed himself dry for the people of Etheria and to bed someone that would only enrich the kingdom further.

He was conflicted; his heart left in two dangling pieces, clinging to the ideals of one another and somehow trapped within the confines of his chest. He wanted to rip his heart out, plead for a new one, to find a sense of clarity in a world that felt overcast with smog. But he stands there at the foot of his throne, listening to the subtle cheers from those who were beneath him, cheering on his every move as if it were the last he'd make. He knew what he had to do, though he rather not do it. But he would, just like he promised his father he would.

Even if that meant tearing himself in half.