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┗━━ 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥 ━━┛

The morning was colder than usual. Nothing that Wooyoung hadn't been used to before, but it became oddly worrying as he laid in bed, staring out of the nearby window, watching as a cloudier sky wove past his kingdom in a dulled gray color.

The world outside, unmoving and quiet, had been a momentary distraction to serve away from lingering thoughts that consumed him. He needed to make an announcement soon, within mere hours from now, labeling himself to be wed to one of the three men that resided in his castle. Though he wished for a different outcome, he had to follow in his father's wishes, to bear the crown beside someone of noble blood. He could rule alone, he could take on the power of a kingdom by himself, but that wasn't anything of what his father wanted.

His father, King Eun, knew of how difficult it was to rule alone. Being by oneself, suffering the weight of such a burden, only wore down one's spirit. At least, that is what King Eun had explained all those moons ago. Wooyoung didn't want that for himself, as he knew his mind would grow to be too chaotic, too destructive, unable to think for itself when the time was necessary.

War was a common thing that he feared completely. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure how his father avoided so many battles in his time served beneath the crown. Sunghoon was practically breathing down his neck, and though he wasn't physically here, Wooyoung could feel his presence lurking, almost as if he was waiting for the most opportune time to strike. Sunghoon, in all of his arrogant glory, had been oddly silent, even though his kingdom had been on the opposite side of the mountain range, the only barrier that likely stood between Etheria and Fleuria, preventing a true war that would seek to claim Wooyoung's future throne.

San had always tried to remind him that it was unlikely, even Mingyu and Hyunjin had too, but he could sense the worry in their voices, listening as they tried to remain composed given their duty to serve the crown and to protect it at all costs. But, what if it wasn't enough? Worrying was an inevitable feeling, and he wasn't entirely sure that he could convince himself to merely forget that Sunghoon was power hungry, and just like any agitated viper, he could strike at any given moment.

Still, he turned in bed, laying on his back, staring up at the rafters of his own room, inspecting the high ceilings and golden threads that held his red curtains upright, followed by the wooden frame of his large, feather-filled bed, slowly tilting his head until he faces the other side of his room. The lounges, the tables, the wardrobe, the door to his bathing room; all pieces of a life he wanted to disassociate from. The pressure laid on his chest felt like a mound of bricks, weighing down his breaths, suffocating him; making it known that he wasn't yet free of the burdens that took his lungs hostage.

He traced the lines of each lounge, from the golden details to the velvet-like seating covers, all the way to the tasseled pillows and wool blankets. His mother had gifted such things to him, but her every action felt hollow now. She hadn't been a beaming light of levity in his life, rather a sickening darkness that loomed over his shoulders, reminding him of every single burden he'd rather forget. She was his mother, but even still, she felt to be a distant branch of the family that he'd rather disown. He knew she was lonely and missing her husband, but her cruelty, her words and her lack of interest in Wooyoung's personal affairs made him truly wonder if she even cared for his well-being.

Sitting up, he brushed a hand through his locks of raven hair, letting the strands fall back down lazily, slightly curled and unkempt, nearly touching his shoulders as they settled back down. He sighed, something that felt like a long breath he had been holding for a moment too long.

The sound of a few knocks at his door caused his attention to shift, looking over, spotting the view of San stepping indoors, his eyes immediately finding Wooyoung's.

"Did I wake you?" He asks, closing the door behind him, trekking further indoors as Wooyoung sat upright completely, shaking his head.

"No, love. You did not," he replied, smiling softly as San approached the bed. "What brings you here?"

"I have a free morning," he says, resting his hand on his hip, smiling back at Wooyoung. "I thought it would be best if I came here to spend it with you."

Wooyoung reaches a hand out, waving San closer, watching as the male reaches for his sword's belt, unlooping it and removing it from his body. He leaned over, resting his sword against the wall nearby, leaving him dressed casually, as if he were just a normal person. He wore a white blouse, the sleeves rolled up his arms with precision that had always been like him, matched with darker-colored trousers, his red hair damp yet from a morning bath, though styled enough to vaguely hang over his eyes.

Wooyoung reached for him again, pulling him closer, cradling his face between his hands as he met him halfway, greeting him with a tender kiss. San leaned down, one hand resting on the back of Wooyoung's neck while the other pressed against the mattress to steady himself, both of them now completely drowning in the comfort of their kiss.

Wooyoung's hands lower, curling into his shirt, leaning back as he coerced San into towering over him, falling back onto the bed with San following his every aching plea. Threading a hand through San's hair, Wooyoung allowed himself to melt beneath the male's touch, feeling as San ran his hands up to grip his hips, fingers curling inwards, pulling Wooyoung insatiably closer, falling deeper and deeper into the feeling that felt like home.

San broke the kiss, moving his lips to tenderly kiss every inch of skin that made up Wooyoung's jaw and throat, earning a quiet, groggy giggle from Wooyoung in turn, pulling San closer, as if he wasn't already as close as he could be.

"You are smothering me," Wooyoung attests, feeling as San smiles against his skin, planting one more kiss against his neck before raising his head, quirking a brow.

"I do not yet hear you protesting my affection," San remarks, leaning down, his eyes slightly lulling as he looks at Wooyoung, truly looking at him, intently dropping his voice to a careful murmur. "I want you all to myself, my love. Let me ravish you."

"I do not have to be anywhere until the afternoon," Wooyoung mutters back, raising a hand, delicately tracing his fingers against San's jawline. "Just be with me for now, San. The world can wait."

San nods, following Wooyoung's pull as they move back towards the pillows, sinking beneath the duvet before San pulls Wooyoung closer, wrapping his arms around him. Wooyoung nuzzled into his chest, laying his palm flat on San's stomach, feeling as the elder's lips graced a kiss against his head.

They laid in silence for an unprecedented amount of time, not yet moving nor choosing to say anything. It was comfortable like this, laid with one another in the peace of four familiar walls, holding one another close without the fear of scrutiny. Wooyoung allowed his eyes to close, listening to San's heartbeat and his breaths, soothing himself into a state of peace that he always chased after, yet seemingly could never capture. But right here, right now? He finally stopped, holding that blissful feeling between his fingers and holding onto it with a vice-like grip, settling into a warmth that felt as natural as breathing.

In the confines of this tranquil moment, Wooyoung feels himself get lost in the quiet tumult of his own thoughts. He had briefly made up his mind about who he'd marry, as he didn't really want it to be a surprise for San to find out at the same time as everyone else. He knew San deserved to know everything from the moment he decided upon it, as transparency was by far the best thing that either of them could do for their relationship. But the thought of hurting his feelings, likely inevitably, was a pain to his heart that he wasn't necessarily prepared to confront.

"Sannie?" Wooyoung began, listening as the male beside him hummed in response, a comforting sound that allowed Wooyoung the peace of mind to begin speaking.

"The announcement," Wooyoung begins, taking a short breath inward. "I have made my decision about the wedding, on who I am to marry."

San shifted slightly, but he continued to listen, his fingers tracing delicate shapes against Wooyoung's arm.

"Prince Choi Yeonjun of Auretica," Wooyoung continues. "That is who I shall be wed to."

"Have you thought through it all?" San asks, almost curious.

"Yes," Wooyoung truthfully responds, clinging to San a bit tighter. "The support, possible alliances, the open flow of possible new trade routes. . . it seems to be the best option we are to have as a country, even if my heart is not entirely in it."

"You will do as you have to, my Prince," San says, his voice low with quiet reassurance. "I trust you, and I love you, and there will be nothing in this world that could ever change that."

Wooyoung smiles faintly, tilting his head back, pressing his lips against San's jaw. "I love you, more than you can ever come to realize, my Sannie."

San turns, only partially, pressing another kiss to Wooyoung's forehead. "I know it will be far from easy to find moments like this. But I know where your heart lies, Wooyoung. I know that it lies with me."

Wooyoung smiles, bringing his hand up, cupping San's jaw. He takes a moment, studying the way San's gaze softened whenever he looked at him, almost as if he had been looking at his entire world. Wooyoung hoped San saw the same affirmations within his own gaze, because truly, San was his entire world. He'd do anything to change the tide of his reality, to simply brush off his obligations and duties for the crown, and yet he remained. He was glued to this, practically forced into submission beneath the harrowing cruelty of his mother's overcasting shadow.

He wanted San to know everything, that he wasn't ever going to run away from this and that he'd protect him with every single power he held. San wouldn't have to fear the sunrise when it came, casting a light over their bodies entangled like this, shining a peek into the affair that Wooyoung has allowed himself to get consumed by. Though their arrangement was never meant to transform into this, something caked in love and affection, spurred on by mutual care and growing adoration, Wooyoung knew he'd do it all over again. He'd take the chance, all because San was completely worth it.

San was worth everything, and that wouldn't change.

"My heart is forever yours," Wooyoung responds, brushing his thumb against San's cheek. "No matter what is to happen tomorrow, just know that I am forever devoted to you, and you only. Yeonjun, or any Prince for that matter, would never have a say in that."

"I know," San replies, leaning closer, brushing his lips against Wooyoung's with a warm breath, smiling when he feels Wooyoung inch a fraction nearer, trying to sink into another kiss. "You may become King of Etheria one day, Wooyoung. But you are mine before you are anyone else's."

Wooyoung nods, pulling San closer, letting his eyes lull. "Yours. Always yours, San."

San connects their lips languidly, allowing the moment between them to burn warmer and warmer until it feels nearly sparked something else alive. Lust, desire, belonging; everything that Wooyoung had always felt when around San had now become amplified, like a spark of a tinder, catching aflame to alight his every nerve on fire.

The day would bring unknown circumstances with a revelation of his impending marriage, declaring himself to Yeonjun completely. But Wooyoung didn't want to think of that right now. He wanted San, and San alone. He wanted to melt into his touch, to feel him completely, to allow the tides of their love to utterly drown him.

He just wanted peace, if only just for now. Little did he realize that San would give him everything in his power, simply because he asked.

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The day brought on a calming evening, basked down with the glow of the setting sun, highlighting the kingdom in hues or oranges and reds, glimmering quietly beneath the rays of such a powerful star. With a breath, Wooyoung stared at himself in the mirror, adjusting his red coat, accented with gold lapels and golden buttons, fitting him snugly with a crisp white shirt beneath. He could hear Ji-soo behind him, likely still cleaning the jewels on his crown, meticulous as always.

In just a few moments, he'd have to go and make his statement, to inform the kingdom of their future King and his consort. He was nervous, but with a practiced breath, he let it all settle down beneath the surface of his facade, choosing to swallow his fears and worries, masking it with dutiful practice bestowed onto him by his mother.

Briefly, his mother had visited, her eyes towering over him, hovering like a crow, scanning over every single little detail that she could manage to fuss over, complaining and talking in ups and downs to the maids, almost as if Wooyoung's appearance simply wasn't good enough.

Wooyoung just stayed quiet, chewing on his lip, watching his reflection in the mirror as the maids around him worked seamlessly and without protest, adjusting the clothing he was wearing before moving to pieces of jewelry, making sure that the locks of his hair fell in the exact places his mother wanted them to. He knew better than to make his opinions known, as he'd hear a verbal assault from his mother in turn, laden with disappointment and degrading remarks, all of which he'd like to avoid, especially on a day like today.

However, the peace was disturbed a moment later, the doors to his chambers opening wide as Mingyu and Yunho stepped inside, the doors slowly creaking shut behind them.

"Your grace," Yunho greets, bowing his head. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

Wooyoung eyes him, looking between his advisor and Mingyu, shaking his head. "No, Yunho, you are not. Something wrong?"

"Of course not, your grace, everything is falling into order," Yunho comments, stepping closer, leaving Mingyu to linger behind him. "Just. . . wanted to check in, make sure you were ready for this."

Wooyoung nods, albeit hesitantly, turning away to face the mirror again. "I do not have much of a choice, Yunho. I am afraid that I must settle for my dues, as if I do not, my enemies will threaten to take my crown."

He can't see Yunho's expression, but he knew better than to hope that Yunho wouldn't be concerned with such a statement. And he was right. Yunho's voice, usually stoic and low, had eased into something softer, though still slightly firm in its delivery.

"There will be no war, my Prince. With the alliances still intact, there is nothing to yet worry yourself with. Please do not think of such things."

Wooyoung rolled his eyes to himself, smoothing out his jacket once more before turning, clasping his hands together. "Yunho, with all due respect, please do not tell me what I can or cannot feel. The threat is very real, and even if Fleuria were amicable simply because of my father's words or rule alone, that does not mean the same grace applies to me. Prince Sunghoon wants everything that Etheria has to offer, and I am here to prevent him from taking it."

Yunho nods, his jaw subtly tightening as he straightens his posture, glancing down as he steadies his voice.

"The council does not yet worry about an incoming threat, your grace–"

"I do not give a damn about the council," Wooyoung states, his brows slightly furrowing as his voice loudens. "I know of what threats loom outside these walls, Yunho; I am not an idiot. Please do not treat me as one."

Yunho raises his hands, a sheepish look of apology crossing over his expression. Wooyoung softens his expression, taking a breath inwards, shaking his head slightly.

"The crown, the throne–" Wooyoung begins, cutting himself off, his eyes closing. "Anyone could truly vye for my power, Yunho. I am not the man my father was. I am not strong, I am not able-minded, nor am I truly ready to embrace an entire kingdom on my shoulders, but I weather it all for the better. I was born into this lineage, born to lead, instilled with the knowledge that this would be my future even if I had not yet wanted it."

Wooyoung opens his eyes, looking at Yunho before shifting his gaze to Mingyu, who eyed him with a specific level of care and concern that had always been exactly like him. Mingyu wasn't overly outspoken, but he was silently observant, and Wooyoung knew that Mingyu could read between the lines and look right through his entire facade.

Wooyoung didn't want to lie or mask it all, but he had to. He was nearly the King of Etheria, and with that came a responsibility, one that he had understood, but wasn't quite prepared to bear. He knew it would be hard, more than anything else in his life that he had entertained, but that didn't change the fact of the matter. He had to steel himself over, no matter the consequences.

"I will do it for Etheria," Wooyoung states brazenly, keeping his voice steady and his gaze unwavering. "For my father, and I will not rest until I find out the truth about his killer. Once I find out who dared to ruin my family and take the throne, I will have their head on a pike."

"Yes, your grace," Yunho comments, bowing his head down once more, choosing silence over any more confrontational words, giving Wooyoung the peace to back down from his analytically irritated position.

He knew Yunho truly meant no harm, but he'd just wish he'd back off. He knew, deep down, that they all cared, more than anything else. Even Ji-soo, despite her meticulous silence that kept her busy while polishing the crown, Wooyoung knew she cared deep down. They didn't have to, nor did really anyone, but in knowing all of this, it somehow made the transition a little easier.

"I need a moment," Wooyoung speaks out, turning his gaze away. "I will step out when I am ready, Yunho, but please. . . leave me for one moment."

Yunho pauses, but he relents, offering a small smile before he speaks. "Yes, your grace. We will be waiting for you just outside. At your pace."

Wooyoung turns away from him completely, turning back towards the mirror, letting his eyes lull shut, taking in a deep breath as a wave of unease stumbles over him. His stomach was twisting, the tightness in his chest breaching over the surface, every inch of composure he once held breaking under the pressure of what was to come.

He dug his nails into his palm, his heart thudding away against his chest, beating so loudly that it occupied every single ounce of this room, feeling as if the walls themselves were caving inwards. He couldn't hear Ji-soo moving around anymore, nor his own breaths, simply just sinking further into his own abyss, hoping that something would breach through the panic and soothe him.

But no one was there. His skin feels cold, hands shaking eyes shut tightly, too afraid to look at the reflection of the man he was supposed to be, but feeling miles and miles away from that mirrored image. He didn't know how to be him anymore, regardless of the training and all the time that went into his studies, knowing fully well that nothing could truly ever prepare him for the weight of a kingdom to be placed atop his shoulders.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to yell obscenities from his window and into the wind, watching as his words carried themselves elsewhere, wandering far away from the pressures of his heart and lungs, finally giving him the chance to just breathe.

Just as he teeters over the edge, allowing a single, wet tear to slip down his cheek, a warm hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hands away from one another. He takes in a shaky breath, turning his head, eyes peering open, only to find San's empathetic gaze looking right at him.

"San–?"

"Relax," he mutters, reaching a hand up, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "It is just us in here, as I sent Ji-soo away. Mingyu stated that you seemed on edge, so I came in."

"I feel like I am slipping off of the edge, Sannie," Wooyoung mutters, fingers finally growing lax, his fists now slowly releasing, simply feeling an edge of calm sweep through him just by looking into San's eyes.

"I am right here, Wooyoung," he mutters, leaning an inch closer. "Just breathe with me, love. It will all be okay."

Wooyoung nods, faintly smiling as another tear sinks past, leaning closer until their foreheads press against one another. His eyes closed again, listening to San's breaths and mirroring them, slowly beginning to waltz away from the edge of the cliff he felt himself teetering over. He wanted to remain grounded, to keep his composure, to just feel whole again, and as long as he had San like this, he knew he'd forever have someone that could pull him from the brink, time and time again.

Wooyoung raises a hand, threading it through the strands of San's hair, pulling him closer, allowing their noses to brush in a delicate, intimate embrace.

"Wooyoung–" San mutters, but the younger shakes his head, smiling small.

"Please, love, no more talking." He brushes his lips up against San's, seeking peace, seeking the connection that grounded him back to the same place that San was, almost in a plea for shared solace. "We are safe behind these doors, San. Just please. . . quiet my thoughts."

San nods faintly, breaching through the distance with a slow, tentative manner, allowing their lips to press against one another. Each kiss was slow, deliberate; designed with an ache of longing to just be. Wooyoung melted into each one, sighing into the kisses as relief swelled through his core. All of his doubts, his fears, his anger, suddenly gone in an instant, swallowed by the feeling of peace that came with San's doting nature. He didn't know what he'd ever do to deserve someone like San, especially with their circumstances, but he was forever thankful that he chose him each and every day.

Their lives would be hard after tonight, but Wooyoung would always make time for him. They could go off riding, go fishing, find a moment of peace away from the noise in their small hideaway from the rest of the world at the willow pond, settling into the embrace that felt as natural as breathing had.

"Thank you for being my peace," Wooyoung whispers as they part, remaining close, not quite prepared to break away from the tranquility of the moment.

"I will always be here for you, love. I swore on it all that time ago, but I mean it now more than I could ever express."

Wooyoung smiles, leaning away a fraction, reaching a hand up to brush a strand of San's hair aside. "I will protect you always, my very handsome and loveable knight."

San smiles, almost bashfully before he steps away, squeezing Wooyoung's hand before he lets go. "I must return to my post, but I will be out there. Find my gaze in the crowd if you need a moment of reprieve, and I will be there."

"I will always search for you, my love," Wooyoung replies, watching as a faint crawl of redness creeps onto his cheeks and neck.

"I love you," San almost whispers, his entire gaze softening, giving Wooyoung a final push of peace that washed over him like a tidal wave.

"And I love you." Wooyoung watched San take another step, nearly prepared to turn around. They shared one last, longing glance, silently exchanging promises and mutual bodes of affection before San left, the door closing behind him with a gentle click.

With a breath, Wooyoung straightened himself, adjusting his coat and his shirt, brushing strands of hair away before Ji-soo reappeared, her smile gentle, carrying a velvet pillow that held his crown delicately. Wooyoung smiled, clasping his hands together, watching as Ji-soo approached carefully, bowing her head down when she got close.

"Alright, your grace. Ready?"

Wooyoung nods. "As I will ever be, Ji-soo."

She smiles faintly, picking up the crown with gentle hands, carefully placing the jeweled piece atop Wooyoung's head with an ease that spoke of her familiarity with the movement and placement. Wooyoung felt the weight, but for once, it didn't feel as heavy. It was subtle, a reminder of his purpose and why it was there, but as he turned to glance in the mirror, feeling Ji-soo's hands work as she adjusted his sleeves, something about the crown didn't feel so burdensome anymore.

After Ji-soo's finishing touches, Wooyoung offered her a nod of gratitude, slowly walking to the doors of his chambers with a rapt breath, steeling himself over again, peeling the doors open to find each of his guards there, prepared and waiting.

Mingi and Minho were off to the left, Mingyu standing ahead, while San and Hyunjin stood on the right. With a nod and a faint smile, Wooyoung stepped out of his room, Ji-soo trailing behind him, the doors closing with a definitive click that felt like a closing chapter, one that was leading to the very next.

With Mingyu walking ahead of him, the other guards at either side of him, Wooyoung walked with a casual grace, listening to the shifts of metal and gear from his knights with every step, trekking down the cobbled halls until they reached the bottom of the stairs, appearing before the grand hall where he could hear the murmurs of what felt like hundreds of voices, all calm and subdued, nonetheless anticipatory.

Mingyu stepped forward into the room, causing the entire crowd to turn their heads, their voices dropping into a soft murmur.

"Prince Jung Wooyoung of Etheria, soon to be King, protector of the people and those loyal to him," Mingyu announced with a booming voice, stepping aside, allowing Wooyoung the moment to trek into the room. He kept his hands clasped together in front of him, eyes scanning the view of those who came to witness his announcement, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on him and him alone. Hyunjin and Mingi walked into place, San and Minho still walking behind Wooyoung as he made his way through the ballroom and towards the podium, swallowing the remnants of his fears as he passed through the faces of those who looked up to him.

Walking up each step, Wooyoung turned in his place as he reached the wooden podium, wetting his lips as he surveyed the group before him, spotting San closest to the place where he stood, eyes forward for the moment, professional and numb to his surroundings.

"Good evening," Wooyoung begins, feeling his voice slowly begin to steady itself. "I have called everyone here for an important announcement, one that will change the tide of Etheria's story forever. I have said before that I would choose a consort by the end of the moon's cycle, and that was true. I have come to make a decision, to prepare an alliance for the sake of not only Etheria, but the entire country as a whole."

Wooyoung pauses, listening to the quiet that became of the room as he steadied himself, preparing to make a statement that wouldn't just change Etheria as a nation, but would alter his life entirely.

"I, Prince Jung Wooyoung, son of King Jung Eun, soon to be King of Etheria, have taken the time to choose Prince Choi Yeonjun of Auretica as my consort."

Gasps and looks of surprise filled the room, but Wooyoung didn't falter.

"The wedding will be in two days' time, and once again will Etheria reign with a strong, united front."