Chapter Text
What’s the protocol for meeting up with the person you’re in love with when you’re engaged to someone else?
Jay has no idea at all. It’s a pity, because he’s been educated by some of the best tutors in the nation, and subjected to more than a decade of dedicated schooling. Not a single one of his tutors taught him what he’s supposed to do in a situation like this, which is pretty silly if Jay thinks about it, because isn’t this pretty darn important?
He finds that it can’t be ignored, though — the constant draw that he feels to the garden. Maybe it’s entirely selfish of him to indulge in this whim, but by the time he snaps to his senses, it’s far too late. His feet carry him to the spot in the garden that’s as familiar to him as the back of his hand.
Wrongness is something Jay is well-acquainted with. But not once has it ever felt like peace, mountain-high and meadow-reaching, like sunshine that melts over his skin like honey.
He shouldn’t linger, he knows that. Maybe if he turns back now, he’ll be able to get away without bumping into anyone.
“Jay.” A familiar voice from behind him calls out. “What are you doing here?”
Ah. Too late.
“Sorry,” He blurts out. “I know I’m the last person you’d want to see right now. I just… I just really needed to see the flowers.”
It’s barely an excuse. Jay shrinks into himself, completely mortified, but Jungwon merely tilts his head to one side, his gaze soft. “Well, then. Don’t let me stop you.”
Jungwon puts down all his gardening tools, walking towards the spot where Jay stands under the shade of a willow tree. Careful not to get too close to Jay, the gardener sits on the grass, leaning back against the trunk. After a moment of hesitation, Jay follows suit.
“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Jungwon says quietly. “I see this garden every day, but sometimes it still takes me by surprise.”
“Me too.” Jay sneaks a glance at the gardener, who surveys the flowers with a tender kind of fondness.
They both stare out at the horizon. Somewhere above them, a bird trills a lilting melody among the branches.
“Have I ever mentioned?” Jay says suddenly. “Your penchant for gardening amazes me every day.”
“Really?” Jungwon’s face lights up with curiosity. “Why?”
“I mean, you do it rain or shine, day in, and day out. And yet, it remains something that you genuinely seem to enjoy.” Jay gives a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t you ever get bored? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
When it comes to his own duties, Jay definitely does. Some days, even the mere thought of the week that lies ahead of him, planned right down to the minute with lessons and activities and reports, has him breaking out in a cold sweat.
“Of course I do,” Jungwon answers, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “But it’s all just a part of the process. When you love something — really love something — you learn to love it for all its parts, and not in spite of.”
Jay pulls his knees close to his chest, which has grown uncomfortably tight. It’s not jealousy that he’s feeling. More of a deep-seated, firmly-rooted longing.
He doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself. But he has this sudden feeling that he has never loved something that much, has never devoted himself to anything for long enough to see it come to fruition. At this point, there’s no guarantee that he’s even capable of it.
“Is that the secret?” Jay asks. “To grow flowers the way you’re able to?”
“What is?”
“Love.”
Jungwon laughs, and the sound tinkles like a bell caught in the wind. “No. Love doesn’t create seeds, or soil, or the right amount of sunlight and rain. It certainly can’t replace experience, or guarantee success.”
Jay tilts his head, just enough to be able to look at Jungwon through the corner of his eyes. The wind ruffles through his hair, and the sun has given his skin a beautiful glow.
“It’s not a be-all end-all solution. But it helps.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s always better, I think, when you do things out of love. Even if it doesn’t end the way you hope.”
Jungwon’s words are loaded with meaning, but Jay isn’t quite ready to delve into its implications just then. “I’m going to have to take your word for it.”
Jungwon meets Jay’s gaze, and his smile is warm, comforting. “Alright,” he says. “You go ahead and do just that.”
❀
“I never realised that my first call of order as your newly reinstated best friend would be to watch you play dress-up.”
Sunghoon and Jay are in his room again, trying, but not quite succeeding, in falling into their old rhythms. Sunghoon is lounging out on his armchair, polishing his favourite knife beneath the window. The way he’s rubbing the cloth — quickly, and just the tiniest bit too forcefully — betrays the agitation that he’s doing his best to squander.
On the other side of the changing screen, Jay looks at the suit he’s been sent for the wedding, still hanging up in front of his closet. It takes a Herculean effort just to get himself to touch it, let alone put it on.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jay says, tugging on the dark satin suit. “It’s an honour to help me pick out my outfits.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The suit fits him perfectly, cinching in at his waist, lengthening his legs, evening out his proportions. Despite all of his reservations about the situation as a whole, he can’t help but think that whoever chose his outfit did a fantastic job. It’s something that Jay would probably have chosen for himself, too.
He walks over to stand in front of his friend, extending his arms to showcase the smooth fabric. It catches the light whenever he moves, rippling over his skin like liquid. “What do you think?”
Sunghoon barely spares him a glance. “You do know that you could wear a trash bag and your citizens would still call it high fashion, right?”
Jay does know that, but it’s nice to hear it from someone other than himself.
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all week,” Jay says approvingly. He turns to the mirror, running his fingers over the fabric.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “You know, for someone who’s been complaining about his wedding for weeks on end, you seem to care an awful lot about how you look for it.”
His best friend has been going to town with his teasing, and Jay knows that it’s simply Sunghoon’s way of trying to show that he cares. For the record, Jay appreciates his efforts. It’s better than having Sunghoon treat him like he’s doomed to an inevitable end. Holding on to a semblance of normalcy makes him almost feel like his old self again.
“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t care enough.” Jay makes an obvious sweep of Sunghoon’s outfit, frowning in distaste. “Don’t you wear the same thing every day?”
“It’s called a uniform, dumbass.”
Sunghoon gets to wear the standard-issued guard tunic when roaming around the palace when he’s on duty. It’s his personal shield, one that goes wherever he goes and effectively renders him both invincible and invisible around the kingdom.
Jay doesn’t get that luxury. His role around the palace is to be seen and perceived, so his style has grown to become a form of armour in itself. He finds confidence and safety layered in the rich drapery and intricate embellishments of whatever clothes he chooses to wear.
“If I must make an appearance at all,” Jay says, determined, “I’d much rather look fabulous doing it.”
❀
As if marrying a complete stranger isn’t bad enough, Jay learns that he has the honour of doing it twice — with the rehearsal set for the day before the actual ceremony.
They’re doing a full run through of the ceremony in the grand ceremonial hall, which has been transformed into a living, breathing nature sanctuary. Leafy tendrils wrap around the banisters and pillars, as if grown there naturally. From the ceiling, wispy flowers cascade in glittery streams, woven through with thousands of tiny diamonds.
Jake is running around shouting orders, apparently trying his hardest to be in multiple places at once. Everywhere Jay turns, Jake is somehow there too, adjusting the timing of the music, giving instructions to the court officials, or stopping to refer to his fat tome of a folder, permanently glued to his fingers.
Jay walks down the aisle while Jake calls out instructions on where he is supposed to stand, how he is supposed to walk, when he is supposed to smile. He nods, trying to look like he’s absorbing everything he’s being told even when his head spins with the overload of information. In contrast, Sunoo takes all Jake’s commands in good stride, adapting quickly to his every word.
Jay watches as Sunoo slowly makes his way down the aisle to him, where they stand facing each other on a raised platform in the front of the room. When Sunoo arrives, he raises his eyebrows slightly at Jay, as if to signal his amusement at the entire event. In return, Jay offers him a weak smile.
He’s trying. They all are.
After exchanging a pair of rings, they proceed to walk down the aisle together. Sunoo’s hand is small, and slips into his easily. Jay savours the warmth of his palm. The mere pressure of it helps to ground him amidst the blur of all their happenings.
“Are you that nervous at the thought of marrying me?” Sunoo whispers, amused.
“What?”
“Your hands are sweaty.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Jay clears his throat discreetly. “Just worried.”
It’s hard to narrow it down to a single source, because in truth, he’s worried about everything. All of it, all at once, in a constant cycle that never seems to end.
Jay looks out at the rows of empty chairs set for their guests. In less than twenty four hours, they would all be filled. Thousands of eyes, set upon him and Sunoo, heavy with implication.
The idea causes him to lose focus, and Jay inadvertently trips on a small flip on the side of the carpet. Sunoo’s free hand is on his arm immediately, steadying him, warm and small and sure.
“If you’re going to fall for me, at least wait until we’re in front of a crowd,” He says, suppressing a smile.
“Right,” Jay mutters. “Sorry again. I’m a little distracted.”
“I can’t even begin to wonder why.” Sunoo fixes his gaze on the path ahead of him. They’re nearing the end of the hallway now. The rehearsal should be ending soon after this.
Jake is looking at Jay reproachfully. “No tripping during the actual ceremony, please!”
Jay holds out a thumbs-up sign weakly, which does little to alleviate the concern in Jake’s eyes. But after a while, the wedding planner’s gaze moves from the couple back to the never-ending contents of his folder.
“Do you have any plans after this?” Sunoo asks.
Jay has been trying to perk himself up with the promise of a long bath and a hot meal, sent up to his room the moment rehearsals end. But he doesn’t know how to explain that to Sunoo without sounding like a pampered little prince, so he settles for a quiet: “Not particularly, no.”
“Great,” Sunoo says. He smiles, and it’s the first one Jay sees that actually touches his eyes. “Then hopefully you’ll join me and Sunghoon for dinner.”
❀
Sunoo has been placed in the largest guest bedroom, complete with its own chandelier and fireplace. A small table is situated in the corner, large enough to comfortably seat four people.
Sunghoon is already waiting when Jay and Sunoo arrive, sitting by a spread of food laid out on the table. The scent wafts out to greet them: a multitude of rich, heavy spices and the sweetness of freshly-baked bread. After standing at attention during rehearsals the whole day, there’s nothing more welcoming than walking home to this.
“Hey, Hoonie,” Jay says. “Good to see you.”
Sunghoon frowns. “You literally saw me an hour ago.”
“Can’t he be glad to see you again?” Sunoo smiles, wrapping his arms around Sunghoon’s neck from behind. “I know I am.”
Their easy show of affection makes Jay look away. He busies himself shutting the door behind them, turning the lock so they won’t be disturbed.
He joins them at the table after a moment. The atmosphere among them is surprisingly light considering the circumstances under which they’ve met. Sunoo and Sunghoon argue about the appropriate amount of butter to spread on a piece of bread, while Jay pours out glasses of water for them from a tall pitcher.
“Say, Jongseong,” Sunoo is saying. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans in closer to Jay. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while. I wasn’t going to say anything because it is a little personal, but it does concern our marriage, so I thought I had a right to know.”
Jay knits his eyebrows together. “What is it?”
"Is it true that you’re having an affair with the royal gardener?”
Jay makes a choked noise. “Oh. Um. That’s not…”
Sunghoon must kick him under the table, because Sunoo suddenly scowls, wincing. “Ow,” he deadpans. “What was that for? You said it was pretty much common knowledge at this point —”
Sunghoon kicks him again, and this time, Sunoo mercifully shuts his mouth. The blank, vaguely pleasant expression on Sunghoon’s face never wavers as he turns to face Jay. “Won’t you pass me the salt?”
Jay grabs the salt shaker and deliberately positions it even further away from Sunghoon. The guard lets out a heavy sigh, looking up at the ceiling as if to plead for patience from some unnamed deity.
“Anyways,” Jay says, clearing his throat. “I’ve also been meaning to ask: how did you two even meet?”
Their expressions change instantly. Sunoo and Sunghoon exchange glances, each full of fondness and adoration.
“Your 18th birthday,” Sunoo says. “I was one of the many guests invited.”
“Ah.” So that was why Sunghoon seemingly disappeared for the better portion of the night. Jay shoots Sunghoon a small knowing look, which his bodyguard pointedly ignores, stabbing a small chunk of broccoli with his fork.
Jay leans back in his chair. “Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it? I think I was a different person then.”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon says, sighing. “For some reason, everyone seems to think they’d have everything in life figured out by the time they turn 18.”
“And did you?” Sunoo asks.
“Of course not.” Jay gives a low chuckle. “Turns out, I know nothing at all.”
“Must be a rite of passage,” Sunghoon agrees. “The realisation that being an adult doesn’t solve a single one of your problems."
“I’m only 17, so I’m not sure if I count,” Sunoo says, smiling a little. The corners of his eyes turn upwards, like that of a fox. “Maybe I’ll be the one to succeed where you both have failed.”
“I’d believe in that,” Sunghoon says quietly. The sincerity in his voice is enough to make Jay’s breath catch.
Sunoo’s hand rests lightly near Sunghoon, their fingers just barely grazing against each other, as if the reminder of the other’s presence is all they really need to find comfort in the world. Jay’s gaze lingers on that singular point of contact. Something stirs in his gut. A quiet, lingering sort of ache.
They finish the rest of their meal with little fanfare. In the comfort of their privacy, it’s so much easier to strip themselves of all their titles and simply act as friends.
Because they are. Friends, that is. It’s weird. Jay has never made friends easily, but he thinks that he could get used to this. This banter, the quiet push-and-pull of a group dynamic where none of the people there are trying to use him for some sort of gain.
“I should get going,” Sunghoon says after a while. “I have some extra duties I promised the other guards I would attend to.”
He looks at Sunoo, and an entire multitude of words are exchanged in that one look. After a second, he pulls away, nodding at Jay. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
With that, his bodyguard takes his leave, slinking into the shadows he’s grown so comfortable with.
❀
“Do you believe in fate, Jongseong?”
Jay has no idea what time it is, only that it’s gotten late. They both could use some sleep for the long day ahead, but somehow, he can’t find it in himself to go back to his own room. Sunoo also makes no move to chase Jay out, so he stays.
He watches the candle on Sunoo’s table burn. Wax drips down its side in rivulets of pearly white before getting caught in the holder, where it pools in a milky patch. Their plates have long been cleared, and now they’re sitting in a comfortable silence, cups of chamomile tea steaming in mugs before them.
“Me?” Jay rests his cheek on his hand. He’s drowsy from food and warmth. It doesn’t help that the candle smells of blooming lavender, which only lulls him even more. “I suppose I do, to a certain extent.”
“Mm.” Sunoo fixes on him with a thoughtful expression. “So you believe that we don’t have free will?”
“I believe that the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I like to think that we have free will in how we get to our fated destinations,” Jay says. He shifts, frowning. “But I don’t like to go too deep into that. It always ends up with me thinking about all the things that could have been.”
“What, you start to regret all your past choices?”
“No,” Jay says. “It’s not that. I mean, sure, I have my regrets. But mostly, there’s more grief than there is regret. Sometimes, it’s easy to conflate the two.”
Sunoo tilts his head at Jay. There’s a thoughtful gaze in his eyes, a thousand words that linger in the honeyed air between them. “You know, you are not at all what I expected you to be.”
Jay snorts at that. “A pompous, careless fool?”
Sunoo smiles a little, but doesn’t correct him.
Jay wonders, for the first time, what Sunghoon tells Sunoo about him, apart from his trysts with Jungwon. It would be nice, he thinks, if he was able to perceive himself from an outsider’s point of view. To see how he appears outside of his own meddling biases and warped perspectives.
He wonders if he’ll recognise the person that he sees. If he’d be able to find any semblance of pride for himself.
“What about you?” Jay finds himself asking back. “Do you believe in fate?”
“No.” The bluntness of Sunoo’s voice cuts through the sweet mist. “I’m not in the habit of believing in things that aren’t tangible to me. But it doesn’t matter all that much, does it? In the end, all our choices fall to us.”
“Is that any better?”
“Yes. At least, I think so.”
Jay smiles wryly. “You must have a lot of confidence in the people walking this world.”
Sunoo chuckles. “Oh, Jongseong. I really, really don’t.”
Jay turns to look at him. The candlelight burns orange in Sunoo’s eyes, which have turned glassy with thought.
Sunoo is absent-mindedly rubbing a ring on one of his fingers. “I’ve seen so much. A royal court hides so many serpents, especially in a kingdom as desperate as mine.”
Jay can’t say anything, because financially and developmentally, his kingdom has been secure and robust for time immemorial. He’s seen his fair share of injustices and manipulation, but he knows that it doesn’t compare the slightest to what Sunoo must have witnessed.
The candle flickers. But it keeps burning, a small tendril of smoke rising from its light.
“I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t believe in much,” Sunoo says. “But the people I love believe in creating a life worth living. And if nothing else, I choose to believe in that.”
❀
The day that Jay has been dreading for the past eighteen years has finally arrived, and to say that he is less than thrilled would be an understatement.
“Maybe I can hide out someplace until it ends,” He says to Sunghoon, adjusting the cuffs on his suit. He meets his bodyguard’s eyes in the mirror and finds his own resoluteness and acceptance reflected in them.
“On your own wedding day?” Sunghoon says. “When about a thousand guards have been instructed to keep you in their sights the entire time? Good luck with that.”
Jay sighs. “Let a boy hope, Hoonie.”
Sunghoon rises from where he sits on Jay’s windowsill, resting a hand on his shoulder for the briefest of moments. His way of offering support, steady and unwavering, in the only way that he has come to know how. It helps more than he knows. It helps that Jay’s best friend is still with him through all of this.
“Ok, remember,” Sunghoon says. “Don’t trip while walking down the aisle. Don’t forget to smile. And please, be civil to anyone who congratulates you afterwards.”
“Alright.”
“Ok,” Sunghoon repeats. “Just gotta get through today. It’ll all be over soon.”
“You’ll stay with me, right?” Jay asks, his voice coming out weaker than he intends. He feels almost greedy, in a way that embarrasses him, this inherent need not to be alone for what is supposed to be the happiest day of his life.
Don’t leave my side.
It’s the only way he’s going to be able to make it through the whole day.
“Of course I will,” Sunghoon says. “All the way until the very end.”
❀
It’s a beautiful day, despite everything.
Jake has really outdone himself with all the planning. They’ve all seen the mastery that he’s made of the ceremonial hall, but through some impossible means the entire palace has been transformed overnight. It’s covered in flowing silks of purple and blue, hanging lights glowing a pale amber, little bouquets lining the hallways every few feet.
Jay tries not to look at the flowers. They’re stunning, but they only serve as a reminder. The final tether to a life that he will never have. It’s better to make a clean break, an easy parting.
He’s lying to himself, of course. Nothing that involves leaving Jungwon will ever be easy.
Still, he tries, because that’s what’s expected of him, and he is nothing if not adaptable. He’s been trained for this his whole life, and he will deliver what he must.
Sunghoon is standing next to him for once, instead of slinking a few feet behind in his shadow as he usually does, and Jay’s grateful for it. He raises his chin and follows the sound of music to the main hall of the palace.
“Just try to focus on Sunoo,” Sunghoon suggests. “It’ll be over really soon. You can—” His voice cracks, but he’s swallowing it down before Jay can say anything. “You can trust him.”
Sure, Jay wants to reply. But I’m sure he’ll like it that much more if it was you he was marrying.
“Come find me afterwards,” he says instead. “I don’t want to spend more time than I need to talking to all these people I know nothing about.”
“Alright.”
“I just need to make it to the reception,” Jay says, determined. “And then I can get as drunk as I need to be.”
“Jay, no.”
“I’ll sneak you some drinks, too.”
Sunghoon opens his mouth, as if about to interject, but after a moment he closes it. Despite himself, Jay almost chuckles. The idea of getting blackout drunk is certainly appealing after the events of the day.
“There you are, Your Highness!” Jake’s familiar voice rings down the corridor as he comes bounding up towards them. “We have a tight schedule. Gotta get going!”
Jay fixes a smile on his face, smoothing his features into pleasant neutrality. “Well,” he murmurs to Sunghoon from the corner of his mouth. “Here we go again.”
❀
He’s standing at the end of the altar, waiting for Sunoo to walk down the aisle.
The orchestra is playing a lovely, sordid tune, but there’s little that he’s able to fully appreciate at that moment. When the music swells to its climax, the doors on the other end of the hall open, and Sunoo appears.
To his credit, he looks nothing short of angelic. His skin positively glows, dusted over with a kind of oil that makes him glitter under the warm lights and sunshine. He’s dressed in the finest luxuries money can buy in the Kingdom of Decelis. Even his eyes glitter, compounded by a single-minded determination to make it to the end of the hall.
He’s walking alone, holding a large bouquet of pale flowers that’s carefully arranged to look like a blooming star. His loveliness is striking, laced with a coldness that settles in Jay’s bones the longer that he looks. Sunoo, in all his composed beauty, has never looked lonelier.
Eventually, he makes it to the altar with Jay, who reaches out to clasp Sunoo’s hands in his.
“You look beautiful,” Jay murmurs.
“Thank you,” Sunoo replies. “So do you.”
The officiator behind them is talking. From the corner of his eye, Jay makes out Sunghoon, standing in the shadows behind Sunoo. But he doesn’t meet Jay’s gaze. No, Sunghoon only has eyes for Sunoo.
He looks incredibly lost. Like he’s watching everything good in his life walk away from him. Like he’s already in a state of mourning.
It’s the first time Jay has ever seen Sunghoon look this heartbroken over something. He finds that there’s nothing he hates more, because if anyone in the world deserves the world, it’s his best friend.
And all of a sudden, a familiar head of brown hair catches his eye.
Jay flinches. But it can’t be.
Jungwon has somehow managed to slip into the hall from one of the side doors, and he folds himself into the corner of the room, behind the eager masses trying to get a glimpse of Jay and Sunoo. He’s changed out of his usual loose clothes and overalls for a dark suit, cutting a striking figure.
The effect is altogether too disarming.
Their gazes catch, and Jungwon offers him a small smile, even though it looks hollow on his face. The conversation he had with Sunoo the night before rings in his head.
Do you believe in fate?
No. But I believe in creating a life worth living.
The officiant is turning to Jay, where they’ve finally arrived at the core of the ceremony. “Do you, Park Jongseong, take Kim Sunoo to be your husband?”
Everyone is looking at him. He feels the weight of their gazes like a thousand burning suns.
And here it is: The choice that will determine the future of the next generation of everyone in Decelis. If fate exists, then it must have existed to bring him purely to this moment, to this place, to say the next two words that everyone is expecting him to say.
This is how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it? Everyone expects something of you, and you give, and give, and give, until one day, you don’t.
The realisation hits him with all the force of a sledgehammer. Jay turns to the side slightly, so he can see Sunghoon in his peripheral vision. He stares at his guard, hoping that he’ll just look up and make eye contact with him.
Sunoo notices instead, and tries to imperceptibly shake his head.
The problem is that Jay has never been remotely good at listening to instructions.
“Prince Jongseong?” The officiant prompts. “Do you take Kim Sunoo to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
There’s nothing else to it, then. The time to act has come, and Jay’s way forward could not be more simple. The ending has already been written. He just has to get to it somehow.
“No,” he says.
The officiant freezes. “Excuse me?”
Sunoo is looking at him, and the expression on his face is almost physically painful to look at. Half apprehension, half hope. It seems that everyone in the wedding hall has held their breath, desperately waiting for a sign that there’s been some kind of mistake.
“I said,” Jay says, drawing himself up to his full height, “No. I do not take Kim Sunoo as my husband.”
Sunghoon is looking at him now, brows furrowed. Jay’s father is standing up from his seat, mouth hanging open, while his mother hangs on to his arm.
“But—” The officiant stutters. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not the right person for it,” Jay says simply. He looks at Sunghoon, and almost two decades worth of understanding passes between them in that single gaze. “Fortunately, I do know someone who is.”
“And who might that be?” The officiant asks faintly.
“My most trusted confidante,” Jay says. “Park Sunghoon.”
His bodyguard walks up the stage, as if in a trance. The disbelief and wonder etched onto his face almost makes Jay laugh.
“Are you sure?” Sunghoon whispers.
Jay looks between him and Sunoo. “Are you?”
“Yes.” Sunghoon is looking directly into Sunoo’s eyes, clasping his hands. “Yes.”
“There’s nothing I’ve been surer of in my life,” Sunoo agrees. His voice comes out the most tender than Jay has ever heard it.
“Then I don’t see what the problem is.” He turns to the officiant. “Please continue.”
The officiant glances at his parents, uncertain. It’s a wonder that nobody has interrupted yet, but Jay is already walking towards his parents.
“What are you doing, Jongseong?” His father whispers harshly.
“Father, please trust me,” He says to them. “If there’s ever been a moment where you believe in me, let it be this one.”
“And what of the alliance?” His mother asks.
“We can sort it out later,” Jay says as he nods towards them. “But I’m sure Sunghoon will be happy to continue with it.”
His parents have always been strict, but one thing they never have been was unreasonable. And today is not the day that they start. Maybe he’s not going to hear them say they’re proud of him for a little while, and the paperwork and diplomacy they’re going to make him take care of is already heavy on his mind, but that’s something that Jay is sure he can live with.
“Trust me,” He says, and this time, his voice rings out to the rest of the guests who have gathered to witness this sacred union. “Every situation is better when it’s done out of love.”
And then he joins his parents and watches his best friend get married.
❀
The party is nowhere near its end by the time night falls.
Jay has finally managed to slip out the reception, wandering down towards the palace garden as if by some invisible force. He tries not to expect too much, but he can’t help the way hope tampers in his gut, heavy and hot with everything that it demands from the world.
The cool night air brushes past his face, carrying the fragrance of peonies. He lost his jacket somewhere during the party, after one too many drinks, as promised with Sunghoon before the ceremony that morning.
The music drifts down to the palace garden, bright and lively. Made for dancing and merriment. If he strains his ears, he can almost hear Sunghoon and Sunoo’s laughter, caught in the music like beads of pearls.
He stumbles over his own feet, steadying himself on the garden fence. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. His head is starting to spin, and he forces himself to take a few deep breaths.
“Careful, there.” A warm hand reaches out to grasp his arm, steadying him before he can fall. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Jay replies, turning around. “Just a little tipsy, I’m afraid.”
Jungwon smiles, and the sight of him is so welcome that it makes Jay’s entire body give out from joy and relief. He collapses on the younger boy, burying his face in the curve of his neck.
Jungwon stumbles a little with the sudden weight of them both, but finds his balance, wrapping his arms around Jay’s neck. He smells like sun-warmed fruit and morning dew.
“You’re about a drink away from blacking out,” He says, running his palms up and down Jay’s back. Heat trails over his skin, even through the fabric of Jay’s silk shirt. “Is someone gonna come over looking for you?”
“No,” Jay says. “Everyone’s too caught up with our charming new couple.”
“Are you sure? Because the last thing I’d want is to be accused of kidnapping the Prince of Decelis.”
“Doubt that will happen,” Jay says. “Nobody has it in them to worry about me right now.”
Jungwon chuckles. “That’s not true.”
At that, Jay pulls back to look at Jungwon. He’s drenched in the moonlight, and it mellows out all the planes of his face. Like the night has peeled itself back from him for fear of dimming his glow.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Jay asks.
“I don’t think so,” Jungwon replies. His dimples pop into view, endearing as ever. “But maybe I can pinch you so you can be sure.”
But before Jungwon can move, Jay is swooping in to give him a soft kiss. The sudden touch catches him off guard, and he stills for a moment. Then, slowly, he melts into Jay, sliding his hands around his waist and drawing him closer.
“I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out,” Jay murmurs. “To fully understand what I needed to do.”
“I know,” Jungwon says. “You should be. I was heartbroken while you were off gallivanting with your best friend’s lover.”
Jay pulls back slightly, giving him a scandalised look, but Jungwon is already laughing. Jay immediately forgets everything that he’s about to say.
From this distance, he can count Jungwon’s individual eyelashes. The shadows they cast across his cheeks are a sacred geometry that he wants to spend the rest of his life studying.
Jay reaches up, his hand settling lightly on Jungwon’s cheek. Almost instinctively, Jungwon leans into his touch.
“I’m just glad that you came back to me.” Jungwon’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but Jay latches on to every word. “The rest is all confetti.”
❀
One month later
They’re lying in the middle of the garden, watching the clouds above shift and morph as they please.
The sky is a beautiful blue, promising warm summers ahead. Ever since the wedding, Sunghoon and Sunoo offered to step up, taking an active role in the rulership of Decelis, affirmed by Jay’s own enthusiastic endorsement.
The effect has also been amazing: less for him to do every single day. Time seems to wait for him. The world appears just a little bit kinder. Jay is not unaware of all his privileges and power as the Crown Prince of Decelis, but for the first time, he truly feels that fate is on his side, playing in his favour.
But for now, there’s nowhere Jay would rather be than here, next to Jungwon, with his schedule cleared for the rest of the day.
“That one there,” Jungwon says, pointing up at the sky. He’s been doing that for the better part of the afternoon, finding beauty in the folds of the clouds. But either he’s just really imaginative, or Jay’s really dumb, because he can’t ever see what Jungwon sees. “Do you see it?”
Perhaps it speaks to the way each of them views the world. Jungwon sees in colours, shapes, stories. Jay simply sees clouds as clouds.
“Which one?” Jay moves his head closer, trying to see down the length of Jungwon’s arm. “The one over there?”
Truthfully, he has no idea which cloud Jungwon is pointing at. But it’s nice just to talk to him. It’s nice just to hear his soft, lilting voice, as soothing as a lullaby. If Jay closes his eyes, he’d probably be able to fall asleep to it.
“Yeah. The big one.”
“Mm. I see it.”
“I think this is the biggest one we’ve spotted yet.” Jungwon tilts his head to glance at Jay. “What do you think it looks like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A hedgehog?”
“Nah. It’s too big to be a hedgehog. But doesn’t it look just like your ego?”
“Excuse me?” Jay sputters at Jungwon, who has a mischievous smile on his face. “That’s a cumulonimbus, love.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
“You would too, if you spent most of your life studying things you’d never use in real life.”
“You’re using it now.”
“Exactly. Let me have my moment.”
It’s quiet for a moment. They both blink up at the sky, as if they’re able to read the future in each fluffy cloud passing overhead.
“That reminds me,” Jay says. He sits up, and Jungwon, sensing the seriousness of his tone, follows suit. “I was going to ask.”
“What about?”
“I was talking to my parents.” Jay reaches over to intertwine his fingers with Jungwon’s. “Now that Sunghoon and Sunoo had taken over a good portion of the tasks I used to be in charge of, my schedule’s freed up a lot.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” There’s concern in his voice, and Jay is quick to wave it away.
“Of course,” Jay assures him. “But an opportunity did come up for me. To travel to the nearby kingdoms, acting as an ambassador of Decelis.”
A pause. “You mean…”
“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” Jay says. “But I’ve been considering it seriously. This chance doesn’t come by often.”
“You should go, then.” Jungwon smiles at him, genuinely thrilled. It makes something in Jay’s heart flutter. “You deserve to see the world.”
“I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me.”
A beat of silence. “What?”
“It’s a paid position, of course,” Jay says quickly. “And there’s gonna be a little bit of preparation involved. But it’s only for the summer, and we’ll get some downtime to explore all these new places—”
“Yes.”
Jay turns to him. “Yes?”
“Of course.” Jungwon touches Jay’s cheek, feather-light. “Obviously.”
“You’re gonna have to give up your garden for a bit.”
“I’m alright with that.” Jungwon grins. “It’s not the same when you’re not around to admire the flowers anyway.”
“Are you sure? You’re going to be missing the bulk of the summer months. Isn’t that the peak of gardening season?”
“That’s the great thing about flowers, isn’t it?” Jungwon says. “They always grow back eventually.”
And that's all that he needs to say. Everything in Jay feels lifted. Lighter. Like he’s full of light. Like finally, the universe is starting to align, just for him. Like his life is meant for something greater.
“Okay, then,” he says simply.
Time will not wait around forever. It will come for them, and it will leave just as fast. But by then — and Jay is sure of it — they will have a life, a home, and a garden, and they will want for nothing more.
In the distance, the peonies sway in the breeze. They’ve grown there for as long as Jay can remember, and will continue to bloom each spring for time immemorial. People in the world will come and go, but the flowers will always stay, and there’s something reassuring about that.
A reminder of beauty in the smallest of things. A promise of a softer world, dappled with light, ready to begin again, and again, and again.