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The night was full of stars. The full moon was smiling shyly behind the clouds, but its warm light never failed to get the newly crowned king’s attention. Despite the crowd –the loud music, the people and the foods- he got his own peace by staring at the faraway moon.
After a while, he reached out his hands to grab a glass with a dragon drawn using a gold ink. He drunk the alcohol served in front of him as an attempt to ease his mind about what he had to do next week: marrying a princess from the nearest kingdom to strengthen the relationship. He hated political marriage as much as he hated to be a king.
He then lifted his royal outfit, a luxurious red silk seamed with gold thread. The fierce dragon was embroidered on the chest part by the finest tailor in the country, a special thing for the special night. But he didn’t want the luxury. He wanted to life another life, but still having the power of the king to change the fate of his country.
He wanted to life another life, where he could be with the one he loved the most.
A life that he would enjoy the sound of birds chirping from inside the palace where the first thing he saw as soon as he opened his eyes was a raw beauty of his soulmate. Then he would explore the face up from the temple, passing through the nose and landed some kisses on the lips before settling the chin between his thumbs and forefinger, bothering the sleepy head.
Then, he wanted a life where, after the long hours working, he would greeted by the smell of his favorite foods being brought to his chamber, then he would drop all his responsibilities and the title as king just to tease his lover, acting cute and all because he knew that his lover loved him even without the title –it’s Kwon Jiyong that his lover loved.
Maybe after napping for a while in his lover’s laps, he would have a meeting or maybe reading something to keep his brain entertained. Then he would ask his lover to accompany him to the place where he should be at night. Or, maybe he would spend his night by listening to his lover playing gayageum, long fingers gracefully snapping, pressing, making vibration at the strings while he closed his eyes.
Or maybe sneaking out to go the hill just behind the main palace, laying down with his lovers while staring at the twinkling stars, mind slowly wanders here and there as they drew lines between the little lights on the sky. Maybe, maybe, maybe, if he could he would plant some kisses on his lover’s cheeks, or lips, before they went back to their chamber, fingers tangled into one as their hearts connected.
What a nice life to live.
“Your chicken soup is ready, Your Highness,” a voice snapped him back from the imaginary land he had visited before. Slowly but sure, the noise came into his ears and he got his composure. He looked at the person who brought his soup and then his heart sunk when he realized that it wasn’t the person he expected to come to him.
“Where is the Head Chef, Seungri?” he took a spoon after he threw a question to the person. He tasted the soup. The flavor spoiled his tongue with the spiciness and the combination of garlic and chicken broth eased his heart.
“You mean, Kang Chef? He took off after he finished the chicken soup. Saying that he had to go back to his hometown for a month.”
The king sat straight after he heard the news. Eyes filled with fire and the waiter’s legs almost gave up on him after seeing the king’s anger. “Who allowed him?”
“Oh? You said it by yourself. I remembered that I accompanied him when you said you would allow him to go back to his hometown?”
Jiyong shrugged as the memory of letting Kang Daesung went away from him. The waiter excused himself, leaving the king whose eyes looked around the palace just to find a particular person.
Then he found him.
Standing just at the right distance for the king not to squint his eyes to observe the face. He was standing behind the big pillar, eyes meeting Jiyong’s brownish orbs with a gaze that hard to explain. It was a mix between happiness and sadness, for sure, as his lips curled up but then he wiped his face with his sleeve.
Tears.
Jiyong wanted to stand up but he couldn’t do anything at the time, not when he was surrounded by the people who would help him running the country. Not when ran to his side was the very least thing to do as a king.
If he could, then he would run to him. Ran for the love of his life. Run for the one who gave him strength when his mother passed away, when his father was killed, when the world seemed to crumble.
If he could, then he would hold the hands that helped him stood up again when standing was the last option for him after some people betrayed him.
If he could, then he would swat the hand placed on Kang Daesung’s shoulders, courting him to turn his back to Jiyong and walked away.
General Choi Seunghyun.