Archive of Our Own

“I’m beginning to think the only reason you come to visit me is to snitch treats before supper.”

Jeno looked up at Jaemin from across the table, cheeks puffed out around a bite of scone. His eyes were comically wide and innocent, half hidden through the pieces of black hair that fell in his face, but sparkling nonetheless. When Jaemin didn’t budge or show any immediate sympathy he scrunched his nose, grinning in the way he knew would win him any argument. How he managed to look so ridiculous and yet so dear was a mystery Jaemin would never be able to solve, so instead of trying, he went back to the potatoes he was peeling.

These visits were becoming more and more common and Jaemin didn’t quite know what to make of that. He knew Jeno’s intentions, his feelings. He’d have to be a fool not to. What he couldn’t quite figure out was what that meant, what Jeno’s plans might be. It wasn’t as if they could run off together, find a small parcel of land that could be their own, raise a family. No, this kitchen, this small, quiet life, this was Jaemin’s place. There was no way Jeno could fit into that.

Jeno managed to scratch together the manners necessary to not speak with his mouth full, walking around to stand closer and watch Jaemin work. He pressed tight against his side, eyes curious as Jaemin’s clever fingers expertly handled the knife in his hand. “The treats are only the second reason I come to visit,” he said finally, taking the peel that had fallen to the table and flicking it onto the growing pile of scraps.

“And what would be the first?” Jaemin asked, trying desperately not to grin.

In lieu of a response Jeno darted forward, pressing his lips to Jaemin’s cheek in the barest hint of a kiss. He laughed as Jaemin blushed and dropped the knife, sending it sliding across the table before falling off the edge and dropping to the floor.

“Lee Jeno, I’m going to lose a finger if you don’t stop,” Jaemin scolded, ducking down to retrieve the knife. He allowed himself a moment under the table to catch his breath and let his face fade from the vivid pink he was sure coloured his cheeks. They oughtn’t flirt like this, not so openly. It wouldn’t be long before the rest of the kitchen staff would arrive to start morning preparations, and Jaemin couldn’t imagine the trouble they—he—would get into if they were spotted in a compromising position. With a deep breath he grabbed the knife, carefully grasping the handle before standing back up.

Jeno looked at him with eyes far too fond as he folded his arms. “Did you get lost under there?”

“It’s a large table,” Jaemin said with a small grin, carefully wiping the blade on the towel tucked into his apron before resuming his task.

“I suppose.” Jeno continued to hover, lifting his hand to gently brush some of the hair from Jaemin’s eyes. “When will you have a break? Will you go riding with me later?”

“You ask me this nearly every morning and nearly every morning I give you the same response. I don’t have a horse of my own, and even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to ride it,” Jaemin shot back, no small amount of fondness hidden behind his words. “Besides, I’ll be busy all day.”

Jeno inched even closer, boldly putting a hand on Jaemin’s back. His fingers were long, strong but gentle where Jaemin could feel them through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Tonight then? I’ll sneak out and meet you at the edge of the property, we’ll walk down to the river and go swimming. Remember the first time we did that? The moon was so big and so bright, it ought to be just the same tonight…”

Jaemin swallowed hard, closing his eyes. “Jeno—”

“We won’t be caught,” Jeno insisted, sliding his hand around Jaemin’s waist and pulling him close. “We’ll only go for a bit, and I promise I’ll have you back before anyone even misses you.” His words were bold, far too bold. As were his lips, which once more sought out Jaemin’s cheek to press a kiss there. “Who knows when we’ll get to sneak away again? You will come with me, won’t you?”

And with those words Jaemin knew he was caught. He leaned into Jeno’s broad chest, closing his eyes and letting the knife slip from his hand to the wooden tabletop. “Fine, you persistent child. At midnight. I’ll meet you at—”

“Your highness.”

Jaemin’s blood turned to ice in his veins, his heart sinking as Jeno took a quick step away to put distance between them. With a shaking breath Jaemin turned, eyes downcast as he readied himself for punishment.

Instead he found himself facing Renjun, the skinny boy holding a massive sack of flour in his arms with an unimpressed look on his face. He stepped over to drop the bag at Jaemin’s feet, shooting him an unsympathetic glance before turning to Jeno. “His Highness should remember not to put kitchen boys in such delicate positions,” he drawled, and though his voice was low and even the chastisement was obvious. “If the two of you were to be caught it would be Jaemin sent away, not you.”

Jeno had the good sense to look guilty, ducking his head down and clasping his hands behind his back. “Good morning, Renjun,” he said politely.

“Good morning, my prince,” Renjun offered back, eyebrow raised. “Jaemin, where do you need me to start?”

“Oatcakes, I haven’t begun the oatcakes,” Jaemin stammered, still mortified at being caught in the crown prince’s arms in the middle of the kitchens. “Thank you, Renjun.” With trembling hands he returned to the potatoes, eyes trained dutifully on the smooth way the knife slid under the peels, lifting them away in even curls.

A long, uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen, Jeno watching Jaemin work, Renjun beginning to measure out ingredients not far from them. Each waited for another to speak first, dutifully keeping their words to themselves. Finally Renjun sighed and shook his head, sprinkling water onto the flour and starting to work it into a dough. “I’m not going to say anything. You know I won’t. I just wish you would be more careful.”

Jaemin swallowed, nodding. “We will. Thank you, Renjunnie.”

Jeno gave a soft, noncommittal sort of hum, glancing to make sure Renjun wasn’t looking before returning his hand to Jaemin’s hip. He gave a quick, secret squeeze before pulling away. “Tonight, the south gate,” he whispered, meeting Jaemin’s eyes and making sure he liked what he saw waiting there. When Jaemin gave a slight nod Jeno smiled, winking before seeing himself out of the kitchens.

This time there was no silence to hide behind, no long pause for Jaemin to collect his thoughts. Renjun turned to face him immediately, a tight scowl on his face as he rested his hands on his hips. “It’s foolish to let him flirt with you so openly.”

“Renjun—”

“Jaemin, there’s nothing you can say that will excuse it. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to be more thoughtful about these sorts of things,” Renjun said pointedly. “He’s leading you on, whether he intends to or not. You don’t have a future with him. Your best option is to find someone sensible to settle down with.”

They’d had this conversation so many times that Jaemin could practically recite it by heart. Deep down he knew Renjun was right, that his friend was simply looking out for his well-being by trying to force Jaemin to face the truth. He just...wished it was easier to deny what his heart wanted. That maybe Jeno weren’t so handsome and so good, that it was easier not to love him.

It didn’t help that Renjun’s life had fallen together so perfectly. Last summer one of the stable boys had expressed his interest in Renjun, whose parents were delighted at the mere idea of the match. Yukhei and Renjun had begun their courtship, fallen in love, and were expected to be married sometime within the next year. Things had worked out so easily for him. Jaemin didn’t resent him for his happiness, he just...wished his friend could understand what he was going through.

“There’s no one else,” Jaemin said softly, still staring at his own hands where they rested on the tabletop. “It’s him or no one. So I’ll just have to get used to being alone, I suppose.”

In a small, uncommon show of affection Renjun walked over, wrapping his arms around Jaemin and squeezing him tight. “We’ll find you someone, someone of our station who will take good care of you. I promise, Jaemin. We’ll figure something out.”

-

The wooden gate that separated the city from the vast woods to the south had been broken for years. Jaemin supposed he could thank a century-long peace with the neighbouring villages for that, his heart rate even and his thoughts calm as he pushed through the gate and headed down the path to the treeline. Tucked under his arm was a little picnic he'd thrown together, a few leftover rolls from dinner and apples plucked from the tree outside of his bedroom window, a bottle of wine he'd snitched from the cellar. It wasn't much but it would serve as a nice little meal for them to share.

Just outside of the city walls he could see Jeno waiting for him, a thick blue cape wrapped around him with the hood pulled low over his face. Jaemin grinned, shaking his head. "You're not as inconspicuous as you think you are," he sang, steps light as he approached the prince. From under the cowl he could see Jeno smile, bright and bold.

"It's enough," he argued, offering his arm to Jaemin. Jaemin took is easily, his hand tucked in the crook of Jeno's elbow, holding onto him as they headed for the tree line in the distance. In no time they were disappearing into the thick cover of the woods, Jeno reaching up with his free hand to tug the hood off of his head. "You had no trouble sneaking out?"

Jaemin laughed, stepping carefully over a fallen branch, leaning on Jeno for balance. "I've no need to sneak out. No one cares where I am as long as I show up in the morning in time to make breakfast." It felt good to walk so openly like this, with no one around to care how close they stood or how familiar their words were as they addressed each other. "I should be asking you the same thing, How did you escape the castle?"

"I climbed out through my bedroom window," Jeno said, all too proud of his ability to move about undetected. Jaemin supposed that must matter a great deal when everyone was constantly watching your every move. All of Jeno's lamentations were in some way related to his freedom or lack thereof.

Jaemin laughed, allowing Jaemin to lift him carefully onto a small ledge before pulling himself up and continuing down their chosen path. Jaemin brushed his pants off carefully as they walked. "You move like a shadow in the night, your highness," he teased, laughing and ducking away at the scowl that earned him.

"Please don't go back to that 'your highness' nonsense," Jeno whined. It had taken him years to break Jaemin of the habit, when they were merely children and Jaemin was a quiet orphan afraid of losing his new home.

"Very well, my dearest Jeno," Jaemin corrected, grinning as Jeno's cheeks turned the most darling shade of pink. "My sweet, handsome, clever, strong, brave Jeno."

"Alright, alright, I get it," Jeno muttered, head ducked down, face turned away. "You menace."

It took them a few more minutes of carefully picking out each step to reach their destination, often hand in hand to support each other over the tangled, complicated terrain. Finally they broke through the thickest of the woods, coming to a slow-moving river that cut the forest neatly in two. Jaemin found a place to sit, laying out the food he'd brought along.

"What's this?" Jeno asked with a grin, dropping to sit next to him.

"Just a snack. In case you find yourself hungry later," Jaemin said, grabbing the wine and his pocket knife. He carefully worked the cork out, tipping a small bit of the contents of the bottle into the grass.

Jeno tilted his head, watching curiously. “What was that?”

“For the fairies,” Jaemin said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Have you never left them treats? It keeps you in their good graces.”

The laugh that earned him wasn’t unkind, more affectionate and soft than anything. “There’s no such thing as fair-” Suddenly Jaemin’s hand was covering Jeno’s mouth, Jeno’s eyes going wide at the interruption.

“Don’t speak such things out loud,” Jaemin scolded, glancing around as if making sure they hadn’t been overheard. “Of course there is. The woods belong to them, how would you feel if someone stormed your home and started doubting your existence?” Plucking up one of the apples, he cut off a slice and held it out for Jeno. Jeno leaned in, eyes sparkling as he took it with his teeth.

“And how can you be so sure?” Jeno asked once he’d swallowed. His tone was teasing, but Jaemin paid it no mind.

“The Zhong boy, Chenle? He’s a changeling,” Jaemin explained, leaning back with palms on the ground behind him. “They say when he was born he was the calmest child. Never cried, never made a single peep. One night, during a storm, he goes missing, and they find him crawling along the edge of the woods. Suddenly he was always wailing about something, which of course means he was replaced. Changelings have a weaker constitution than human babies, they cry more, you know.”

Jeno merely laughed once more, leaning over to press a kiss to Jaemin’s cheek.

“What was that for?” Jaemin asked, grinning.

Jeno hummed, shrugging. “Because I adore you.”

They fell into an easy conversation, Jaemin asking about Jeno's day and his duties at the castle, Jeno asking Jaemin about his work in the kitchen and his plans for the rest of the week. They discussed Renjun and his knowledge of their relationship, Jaemin assuring Jeno that he was no danger to them, that Renjun was a true friend who would never put Jaemin into any sort of danger.

"I hadn't considered that," Jeno said softly, eyes trained on the river as it meandered past. "That this might be dangerous for you. Have I been treating you unfairly without realizing?"

It wasn't something they discussed; the nature of their relationship, what could possibly come of two men of such vastly different stations sneaking around like this. Jaemin suspected that might be due to the way the nature of their relationship had changed. It had happened almost without either realizing, a subtle shift from boys sword fighting with sticks in the courtyard to young men sneaking kisses in the warmth of the kitchens where Jaemin worked from sunrise to sunset. In the beginning it had been so easy for people to overlook their bond. They were children, station didn't matter. But with puberty came expectations, mountains of them heaped on Jeno's shoulders, the insurmountable knowledge that some day he'd be in charge of everyone and everything around them.

"I don't think so," Jaemin murmured, eyes sightless as he gazed into the distance. "I could have said something. I could have worked harder to push you away. But I didn't want to."

Jeno looked over, worry clouding his handsome features. "Didn't? Or don't."

Jaemin sighed, a heavy, wounded sound from somewhere deep within him. "Don't, I suppose. But I think it's time for us to start considering that our relationship has an expiration date." He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "You can't keep sneaking off to see me, Jeno. At some point your parents will begin to look for a match for you. You'll have to settle down, focus more on your responsibilities. And as much as I hate to admit it, there isn't a place for me in that life."

"Don't...don't talk like that," Jeno insisted, voice trembling with emotion. "Don't say things like that, Jaeminnie. There is always a place for you in my life. I don't...I don't care what I have to do. We'll figure something out, we'll find a way to be together."

"And what will you do, Jeno?" Jaemin asked, though his voice was in no way unkind. More than anything he was tired, weighed down by the truth of their future together. Or lack thereof. "Will you hide me away in a tower, sneak out to meet me once a month when the guards aren't looking? Will you continue your affair with a lowly kitchen boy until the wrong person notices and I'm sent away?" He reaches over, hand gentle where it touches Jeno's cheek. "Let us not pretend, Jeno-yah. Let us part as friends, as two people who love each other dearly and will always cherish our time spent together. Is that alright? I want us to die gracefully, with dignity. Not kicking and screaming and making a mockery of this beautiful thing we've shared."

Jeno fell silent, and it took far too long for Jaemin to realize he was crying. Jaemin was kind enough to pretend he didn't see, to continue to watch as the river flowed, steady, unstoppable. Only when Jeno reached to take his hand did he look over, smiling softly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," Jeno assured, though his voice was rough and his cheeks were still wet. "I don't promise that I won't continue to try to find...some way to be with you. But if you wish for me to let you go peacefully then...then I'll respect your wishes."

Lifting Jeno's hand to his mouth, Jaemin pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, smiling against his skin. "Thank you, Jeno," he whispered. "I'm not saying now. Or tomorrow. But when the time comes let's promise to part as friends, yes? As something more than friends. As two men who have shared everything, and want nothing but the best for each other."

Jeno nodded, withdrawing his hand and instead curling it around the nape of Jaemin's neck. He pulled him close, brushing their noses together as Jaemin, wide eyed, trembled in his grasp. "I promise. When that time comes, I'll let you go. But for now kiss me, and make me forget that day will ever come.

And Jaemin, for his part, was never one to disobey the orders of his prince.

-

Jaemin had, perhaps, made a mistake in staying up so late the night before.

It had been his third night that week sneaking out with Jeno. He'd somehow been convinced to let the prince smuggle him into the castle, tiptoeing through the moonlit halls of the palace and into Jeno's quarters, where they'd spent far too much time tangled in each other's arms.

"It's almost like you want this to be harder than it needs to be," Renjun said dryly upon spotting one of the numerous marks on Jaemin's neck. Jaemin merely waved him away, jaw cracking as he yawned. He could barely focus on the tart he was trying to make, he didn't need Renjun fussing at him all morning. Every perfect spiral of berries seemed to lull his mind more and more away from wakefulness, his head dipping down and down and down until Renjun would flick his ear and bring him back to life.

“I’ll go to sleep early tonight,” he promised himself, blinking heavily. “I’ll get a proper night’s rest.”

“Unless his majesty decides to visit again,” Renjun muttered.

Jaemin was about to turn and scold him for his words when the kitchen door flew open, startling them both. “Good morning,” Yukhei said cheerfully, almost too tall for the doorway as he ducked in to join them. He stopped to wipe the mud off of his boots before stepping in, scooping a protesting Renjun into his arms and kissing all over his face. “And how are we today?”

“We are busy and falling dreadfully behind,” Renjun said, swatting lightly at Yukhei’s arm. Despite his protest his cheeks were a flattering shade of pink, his lips curving into a smile no matter how desperately he tried to fight it. Renjun might put up a good front, but he was just as eager to be romanced as Jaemin was. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting you,” Yukhei said, showing off his perfectly even teeth as he smiled. “I feel like it’s been an age since you came to visit me.”

Renjun snorted, wriggling out of his arms and returning to the vegetables he was scrubbing. “I saw you last night for supper,” he said, picking through a pile of carrots before choosing the one that apparently suited his needs. He dunked it in a pail of water, carefully scrubbing the dirt from its peel. “I practically had to sneak out of the window to escape you.”

“And I’ve lived a long, lonely life since then,” Yukhei sighed dramatically. “‘Lo, Jaemin.”

Amused by their antics, Jaemin watched with a grin. “Morning, Yukhei. How are the stables on this fine morning?”

Jaemin liked Yukhei. He liked him very much. The man had a personality as big and bold as any, always ready with a joke or a song to entertain those around him. His pockets were constantly stocked with sugar cubes and bits of candy, the first to spoil the horses and the second to spoil the children of the village. More important than all of that, he was good to Renjun. He never took the harsh words or nervous scolding to heart, possibly the only person who could gentle Renjun’s moods and draw a smile out of him. He would make a perfect husband, really.

“The stables are beautifully uneventful,” Yukhei said, stealing one of the berries before Jaemin and popping it into his mouth. “The queen’s horse is due to deliver a foal any day now, but until then we’re all just waiting around.” He licked the juice from his fingers, shrugging. “Unless the royal family decides to ride today I haven’t much to do.”

“Then perhaps you could make yourself useful and help me with these vegetables,” Renjun said pointedly, grinning when Yukhei jumped to join him at the basin.

The morning passed pleasantly, their chatter filling the kitchen and making their tasks pass easily. Jaemin was on his way to pull the tart out of the oven when there was a great clatter from the stairs behind him, though he made no immediate turn to see who had joined them. Not until he heard Renjun sigh and Yukhei bark out an official sounding, “Your highness!”

Still, he couldn’t just shirk his duties because Jeno was back. Jaemin was careful to set the pastry in the windowsill to cool, wiping his hands on his shirt as he turned. “Good morning your highness,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. “I hope you are well?”

Jeno stood in the doorway, a stricken look on his face. It was clear he was anything but well. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he cast a glance to Yukhei and Renjun before looking back to Jaemin, swallowing hard. “I wish...excuse my impropriety, but I need to…”

“Come on, Yukhei,” Renjun sighed, grabbing a cloth to wipe his own hands. He took Yukhei by the arm, pulling him to the door that lead to the gardens. “I need some fresh air.” Despite his confusion Yukhei knew better than to argue, casting one last glance over his shoulder before they disappeared into the midday sun.

Immediately Jaemin rushed to Jeno, taking his hands in his own. “What’s wrong, Jeno?” he asked, nerves fluttering deep in his stomach. “You’re as pale as a ghost. And your hands are shaking. What’s wrong, my love?”

Jeno closed his eyes and leaned in, a wounded noise escaping his lips. “Call me that again.”

“What? My love?” Jaemin asked, frowning in his confusion. He took Jeno’s face in his hands, pulling him close and tenderly kissing him. “Jeno, my love. My darling. Tell me what’s wrong.”

For a long moment Jeno merely trembled in Jaemin’s hands, listless in his arms as Jaemin tried to soothe him. Finally he spoke, though he did everything he could to avoid Jaemin’s gaze as he did.

“I- my parents...have decided that they wish me to marry,” he said, voice barely a whisper. Immediately Jaemin’s movements, his sweet kisses and the gentle touches across Jeno’s cheeks and hair, stopped. Instead his hands fell to his sides, a stunned look on his face. “Jaemin,” Jeno choked, emotion welling behind his eyes.

“Jeno,” Jaemin managed in return, pushing himself to speak despite the growing emptiness that had begun to form where his heart used to be. “Have...have they already found a suitable wife for you?”

Jeno shook his head, and for a moment it looked as though he might fall to his knees, break apart at Jaemin’s feet. “No. They said...they said there’s to be a ball, and that I may choose my own partner from the attendees. They’ve already sent out invitations to the neighbouring kingdoms. My...my cousin is coming to hold it in my honour.”

Jaemin had heard tales of Jackson, a lord from a neighbouring kingdom. It was said his parties were extravagant, the sort of event you experienced once in your life and never forgot.

“Then…” Jaemin stepped back, turning away so he could steal a moment to compose himself. No matter how his heart rallied against it he knew what he had to say, what had to be done. “Then this is the moment we spoke of, Jeno. It is time for us to part as friends, isn’t it?”

“Jaemin no—”

“Jeno you promised me,” Jaemin snapped, turning and allowing Jeno to see the pain in his eyes. “You can’t possibly think I want this, do you? You must know that if it were up to me it would be you and I, together for the rest of our days. But it can’t be. You...you will be married, and I won’t be your dirty little secret. I deserve more than that, don’t I? To be some hidden affair that everyone whispers about when your back is turned?”

Jeno was weeping again. Jaemin had always found it admirable, the way he so freely let his emotions go, the way he didn’t try to hide his feelings because of what society might expect of him. Now though, now Jaemin didn’t know what to do for him. He stood helplessly, watching as the love of his life fell apart, not a single thing in the world he could do to help.

“Jeno,” he whispered, reaching forward to lift his chin with a gentle hand. “I will always love you. I hope that is enough to get you through your life.”

Jeno nodded, reaching up to wipe viciously at his eyes. “May I...kiss you once more? To carry with me,” he whispered, dark eyes sparkling with emotion. When Jaemin nodded he slipped an arm around his waist, pulling their bodies close. He was warm. Jaemin wasn’t sure if it was the fires from the ovens burning around them, but Jeno seemed to burn wherever they touched. He leaned in, hovering just centimeters away, before closing the distance and pressing their mouths together.

The kiss felt like a goodbye. Jaemin supposed it was, their parting gift to each other before separating for good. He wrapped his arms around Jeno’s neck, holding tight, hoping that he could make Jeno understand just how deeply he would feel this wound for the rest of his life. He kissed him like a promise, like a prayer. And when they pulled away, he realized that he was crying too.

“I love you, Na Jaemin,” Jeno whispered, resting their foreheads together.

Jaemin managed a weak smile, closing his eyes and letting himself feel. “And I love you, Jeno. My lovely, lovely Jeno.”

They stood in each other’s arms for as long as they could, letting themselves forget the world around them for this final moment. Finally they were forced to part by a knock on the garden door, most assuredly Renjun warning them before he led Yukhei back in. With a broken sigh Jeno pulled away, letting himself take one last long look at Jaemin before turning and disappearing back up the stairs.

-

Jaemin swore to himself that evening that he wouldn’t shed a tear over the inevitable. Within three days from that promise to himself he’d cried so often and so heavily that he feared he may turn into a dry, shriveled husk for all the weeping he’d done.

Renjun sat next to him dutifully the entire time. It was a testament to his friendship that despite how often he warned Jaemin, despite how often he’d chastised him for his foolishness, he didn’t say a word against his tears. Instead he kept vigil beside him, patting his hair, whispering soothing words to try and ease his pain. Even Yukhei joined in on trying to comfort him. The poor boy didn’t know what to do or what the real story of Jaemin and Jeno’s relationship was, so instead he showed up after a long day in the stables to help Renjun prepare for the next morning, no questions asked.

Jaemin was lucky to have them.

The ball was planned with a quickness so surprising that Jaemin almost suspected they might have been found out. It was quick enough to suggest that they were trying to distract Jeno from something else, trying to hastily shove him into a match that would suit the kingdom. Invitations were sent to all corners of the country calling for royals and nobles to attend, to bring their eligible sons and daughters with the hope they may be worthy of some day ruling at Jeno’s side.

“They could have given us more time to prepare,” Renjun grumbled, lugging giant wheels of cheese up from the larder. Jaemin was chopping onions, a good enough tactic to hide the fact that he would still, occasionally, burst into tears without provocation. “The hunters are at their wits’ ends trying to bring in enough meat for the banquet.”

“They’ll make it, they’re good at what they do,” Jaemin returned softly, focused intently on the knife in his hand. “We’ll be alright.”

Renjun was silent for a moment, though Jaemin didn’t risk looking up to check on him. He couldn’t handle seeing the pity in his eyes, not just then. He was trying to hold himself together. “We will,” Renjun said. “I’ve made a list of everything that needs to be finished tomorrow before people start to arrive, and a schedule of when everything should go into the oven. Will you look it over and see if there’s anything I’ve missed?”

Jaemin looked up, forcing a smile that he was sure didn’t reach his eyes. “I will, thank you Injunnie. It’s late, why don’t you go home? I can finish up here.”

“Like hell,” Renjun snorted. “I’m staying with you tonight. The last thing you need is to be alone, not when the love of your life is about to be engaged to someone else.” He began to clean up, wiping down the cooking surfaces and throwing away scraps. “We can both fit in your bed.”

Another wave of emotion hit Jaemin, so overwhelming this time that he had to lean against a table and cover his face with his hand. For the first time in a long time is wasn’t about about Jeno; this time he was cripplingly overwhelmed by his love for Renjun, his appreciation for his friend, that all he could do was cling to the furniture for support. “Thank you, Injun,” he choked, swallowing hard. “For everything.”

A hand rested on his shoulder, small and delicate but surprisingly strong. “We’ll get through this, Jaemin,” Renjun said, resolute. “Together.”

And Renjun made good on his promise. That night they huddled close in Jaemin’s bed, doing their best with the limited space and the mess of gangly limbs they shared between them. Jaemin’s room wasn’t much; he slept in a small space just above the kitchens, his bed little more than a cot with a threadbare blanket thrown over it. He didn’t have much to his name other than his sparse mattress and a little writing table, a trunk to hold his things and a small basin to wash in.

Never once had he felt like he didn’t have enough. He hadn’t spent his life worried that he was lacking. But now, lying with Renjun in his too small bed, wondering what it might be like to share it with Jeno instead, he dreamed of more.

-

“The amount of people already swarming the village is unbelievable.” Yukhei looked exhausted as he leaned against the doorframe, the day gloomy and wet behind him. It had been raining quite heavily since that morning, which Jaemin found to be perfectly fitting with the mood he was in. “None of these horses have been properly tended to, it’s like rich people don’t care about the animals that lug them around.”

“They don’t,” Renjun pointed out, hovering over the fire as he tended to the soups and stews bubbling away. The kitchens were hot and muggy, the smell of spices and a myriad of roasting meats thick in the air. Jaemin would love it if it weren’t for the fact that this feast would be feeding Jeno’s future husband or wife. “They don’t care about anything but their own fancy parties, which is why we’ve had a week to prepare a meal that should have been in planning months ago.”

Yukhei bravely left the cool, fresh air of the doorway, walking over to press a swift kiss to Renjun’s temple. Once done he retreated, well aware that his fiance wasn’t keen on hovering when there was work to be done. “If anyone can do it, it’s you lot,” he said, a wide grin on his face.”

Jaemin managed a smile at the vote of confidence. “Thanks, Yukhei,” he said, manning a pot of fruits he had stewing in a rich red wine. “As long as you believe in us.”

Yukhei winked, smile cavalier. “I’d better get back, I told Hendery I was just nipping away for a bite. I’ll see you both sometime soon, I imagine.”

“Tonight, I’ll be there tonight,” Renjun promised, though he didn’t look up from his task. “Goodbye, Yukhei.” He waited until Yukhei was gone before sighing, stirring one of the bubbling cauldrons before him. “That boy.”

“You love him,” Jaemin countered, grinning. “You can put on airs if you wish, but I know how you feel.”

“Your pot’s about to boil over,” Renjun said pointedly, smirking as Jaemin yelped and rushed to remove it from the fire.

They worked in silence for most of the day, too busy with preparations and too surrounded by the rest of the kitchen workers to have any sort of real conversation. It was unfortunate, all of the silence meant Jaemin was stuck in his own head, mind in utter turmoil about what tonight meant. Most of his day was spent wondering what sort of spouse Jeno would end up tied to. Would he choose some pretty duchess, the daughter of a noble with money in her coffers? Knowing Jeno (as Jaemin did), he was much more likely to choose some strapping young man, a fighter with men behind him to bring security to the kingdom. Or a bookish type with more wits than brawn, but a lord nonetheless.

The rest of his time was spent imagining what life might be like if they were given a real chance. Jaemin could never be some noble lord, sitting around on silk pillows while others doted on him. No, he’d be a man of the people, never afraid to get his hands dirty, to help out. And Jeno would be there beside him.

With a sigh Jaemin laid his palms flat against the table, closing his eyes and trying to shake such thoughts from his head. “You must stop thinking these things,” he chastised himself, voice barely a whisper. “Chase him from your mind.”

The rest of the day went slightly better. He forced himself to interact with the rest of the kitchen staff, even joining in when Johnny started singing old sea shanties while they chopped the heads off of fish and threw them in to roast. He let Jaehyun drag him outside for a breath of fresh air and a bit of bread split between them, the food satisfying a hunger Jaemin hadn’t even realized had crept up on him. By the time the servants came to whisk food away to the banquet he’d managed to feel a bit better, a bit more human.

“Come on then,” Renjun said, hanging up his apron and washing his hands at the basin by the door. “Let’s go stretch our legs a bit before we part ways for the evening.”

Jaemin followed suit, cleaning up and drying his hands on a rough towel hanging nearby. “Where are we going?”

“Just to the gardens,” Renjun explained, offering a half smile. His eyes were soft and kind, he was clearly pleased with the effort Jaemin had put in to feeling better. “Let’s breathe in the night air and clear our heads. We’ll collect Yukhei from the stables on the way.”

Apparently Yukhei had anticipated their arrival. When they approached the stables he was already outside, waiting for them with an affectionate smile on his face.

“There are my boys,” he said, collecting them into a firm hug that had Renjun squawking and pushing at his shoulder. “Everything went well today?”

“Everything went well,” Jaemin said, managing his own smile. They took off towards their intended destination, the hedge maze that decorated the south lawn of the castle. It had been planted years and years ago, when the king’s father was still a boy and the kingdoms were still at war. The palace had always welcomed the people of the village to explore the gardens, so it was no strange thing to see commoners and nobles alike meandering about.

They walked into the entrance of the maze, footsteps sure as they picked through the winding paths. “And how are you feeling, Jaemin?” Yukhei asked carefully, glancing at Renjun as if for confirmation that their friend was alright.

“I just….I just wish I could go tonight, just to see him one last time,” Jaemin said honestly, walking through the tall hedges with Renjun’s hand tucked neatly in the crook of his elbow. Yukhei walked beside them, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the sky. “I wish I could dance with him just once before he belongs to someone else.”

“I could help you with that.”

All three men jumped, various noises of alarm crowding the thin path of the maze as an unfamiliar voice spoke behind them. Renjun, the most collected of them at all times, gasped softly and clung tighter to Jaemin’s arm. Jaemin let out a sharp “oh!” as something akin to ice water filled his veins. Yukhei practically shrieked, falling to the ground.

Jaemin turned, lips curving into a hard frown when he saw no one there. “Where are you? You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people like that, it’s rude.”

The voice spoke again, and Jaemin still couldn’t quite make out where it was coming from. “I’m a friend, you really needn’t fear me,” it said, voice laced with amusement. “Find me in the middle of the maze, won’t you? I believe I have a solution to your problem.”

Jaemin glanced to Renjun, and then to Yukhei sitting on the ground. “What the bloody hell?”

“Just someone having a laugh,” Renjun said disdainfully, rolling his eyes. “Pay it no mind.”

Yukhei snorted, standing back up and brushing the grass clippings from his trousers. “Oh, I’ll pay them plenty of mind. I want to know who’s skulking about in the bushes sneaking up on people like that. Come on.” He strode off in the direction of the centre of the maze, strides long and purposeful. Jaemin glanced to Renjun, who merely rolled his eyes once more before following along.

They knew the maze like the back of their hands. It was a popular place for young lovers to sneak off together for time alone, even Renjun himself had dragged Yukhei in every now and then when his duties for the day were done and no one was around to spy on them. Jaemin had come a time or two with Jeno, sharing hidden kisses amongst the lush greenery before they found the privacy of the river in the woods. It wasn’t long before they were approaching the centre, peering around to see who might have been calling out to them.

“There’s no one here,” Jaemin pointed out, turning in a slow circle. The centre of the maze was a beautiful little garden with a gazebo in the middle, a stone bench, tall rose bushes, and a few bubbling fountains filling the space. The smell of magnolias was thick in the air, the scent heavy and sweet.

“Some child playing tricks, just like I said,” Renjun huffed, folding his arms. “There was no need to come running in so wildly.”

“There really wasn’t. I have nowhere to be, I would have waited.”

Jaemin sighed, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing until he saw spots behind his eyelids. “Please, we aren’t in the mood for games. Will you just come out so we can discuss whatever it is you want to talk about?”

“I suppose…”

There was a sudden change in the air, much like the way the night crackled and fizzed after a lightning storm. Where once there was no one there was now a man standing in the gazebo, leaning against the bannister with a wide smile on his face.

Jaemin had never seen anything like him. His poise alone was enough to mark him as a person of great importance, shoulders tall and held back, chin lifted, one hand on his hip as he watched them with sparkling eyes. His hair was the most garish red Jaemin had ever seen, swept back and held tight with a ribbon. He was dressed like he himself might be about to join the party, in black trousers and a billowing white shirt, a black feather dangling from his left ear. From his back were a pair of–

“Wings,” Renjun breathed, eyes wide. “You’re one of the fair folk.”

“Yes, hello,” the man answered, still grinning as he gave a deep bow. “I’m sorry to have startled you all, but people never seem to believe me if I don’t make some sort of grand entrance.” He hopped down off of the gazebo steps, bowing deeply. “Nakamoto Yuta, at your service.”

Jaemin, too stunned to speak, managed his own bow in response. It seemed to delight Yuta, who rushed over and clasped his hand. In his enthusiasm the fairy seemed not to notice the way Renjun and Yukhei jumped to attention, ready to step in and protect their friend if need be.

“Jaemin, right? I’ve got the right one?” Yuta asked, practically vibrating with his excitement as he shook Jaemin’s hand between his own. “I’ve only seen you in passing now and then when I’m traveling through town. You are Jaemin, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Jaemin said slowly, the hand not being tightly held placed over his heart, as if to calm its wild beating. “How...how do you know my name?”

Yuta laughed, stepping back and clapping his hands together. “How do I know your name? You are a dear friend of ours, Na Jaemin, don’t you know? Always so thoughtful, always so careful to share everything given to you.” He turned, glancing around the gardens as he spoke. “You work so hard for the benefit of others, always taking the merest scraps, perfectly content with nothing. And yet you still leave out a portion of your morning bread for the fae, still dab honey above your door frame for us.”

Jaemin thought back to the wine poured out at the riverbank, to every small thing he’d ever done in a show of good faith to the Seelie. “You noticed that?”

“Of course we have,” Yuta laughed, hopping onto a bench, carefully stepping along the edge with his hands held out for balance. “You’re kind, Na Jaemin. Kindness shouldn't go unnoticed.”

“And here I was, convinced you were merely wasting food,” Renjun whispered, eyes wide as he held tight to Yukhei’s hand.

Suddenly Yuta was beside Jaemin, so fast that the three men yelped at his sudden reappearance. “You’ve always thought of others, even the creatures you couldn’t see,” Yuta said warmly, wrapping an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder. “So I’m here to return the favour.”

Everything was happening so fast. Jaemin could barely keep up, hand still clutching his chest as Yuta once more danced away, this time to smell a particularly beautiful looking honeysuckle bush that had caught his attention. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and attempting to clear his head. “What...what favour is it that you’re here to repay? Not that you owe me anything,” he said quickly, not foolish enough to offend a fairy.

Yuta turned from the flower, once again wearing a look so tender and fond that Jaemin nearly hid his face. “You are the kindest boy I know of, Jaemin,” he said, expression going quite serious. “And today you wished to dance with the man you love one last time. I can help you do that.”

“What?” Renjun stepped forward, shaking out of Yukhei’s grasp when his intended tried to pull him back. “The last thing he needs is to go running in there tearing the wound back open. He needs to heal, not pour salt into his own wounds.”

“Renjun hush,” Jaemin hissed, eyes wide.

Yuta merely laughed. “And would you not do anything to see your stable boy one last time if anything were to come between you?” He grinned, shrugging when Renjun blushed and looked away. “If what he desires is to be in the Prince’s arms once more, who are we to write that wish off as foolish?”

“How…” Jaemin swallowed hard, trying desperately not to get ahead of himself. He closed his eyes, counting to ten before allowing himself to respond. “How could you do that? Help me see Jeno?”

In a flash Yuta was back, leaning in close with a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye. “With magic, of course.”

To see Jeno again, to perhaps kiss him once more before losing him to another...it was all Jaemin could wish for. He noticed that his hands were shaking, lips tingling as something between anxiety and excitement rushed through him. “Yuta, if you could help me see him, I’d...I’d…”

A hand pressed to his lips, Yuta’s eyes wide. “Don’t make promises to the fae,” he whispered, alarmed. “You’ve already earned my friendship, don’t make a promise. If you make a promise I’ll have to collect on it down the road, no matter the price.”

Jaemin nodded, a chill running down his body. “Thank you,” he whispered, wiping his palms over his trousers to try and dry some of the sweat that had collected there. “What must I do?”

“Can you mingle with the nobility? I’ll be sending you into the wolves, I must know you can fend them off on your own,” Yuta explained. “I can get you in, but once you’re through those doors it’s all up to you.”

Jaemin made himself consider Yuta’s words, dedicated to not rushing into this. He looked at Renjun, eyes wide and full of fear as he searched his friend’s face for some sort of answer. “Am I mad for considering this, Injun?” he asked, voice trembling. “Is it foolish that I wish to see him one last time?”

Renjun, for his part, didn’t answer immediately. Instead he looked to Yukhei, considering his lover for a long moment before giving his answer. “Of course it isn’t foolish,” he said finally, a look of pure determination on his face. “We do what we must for love, don’t we? If this is what you want...then go get it, Jaemin.”

The approval was everything. Jaemin felt a weight lift of his chest as he faced Yuta, nodding. “Alright. I want to do it. I’ll figure out how to fit in, I’ll just...I just won’t talk, I’ll stay out of sight until I find Jeno.”

“The ability to know just when to shut up is an excellent skill to have and one very few people practice,” Yuta said with a nod. He took a step back, looking Jaemin over with a hand to his chin. Finally standing still, it was easy for Jaemin to take in the wings fluttering behind his back, the way the air around him seemed to shimmer and dance . “We’ll need to clean you up a bit, I think. And I do believe blue would look divine on you.”

“I haven’t got much to wear,” Jaemin said, blushing. “Nothing that would look appropriate at a ball.”

Yuta laughed, waving his hand. “Oh don’t be silly. That’s the whole point of me being here, isn’t it? To handle the bits that seem impossible.” He takes a deep breath, hands falling to his sides. “Alright. Dark blue. Silver accents. We’ll make sure you’re the only thing he can look at from the moment you step through the door.”

Jaemin didn’t bother pointing out that Jeno only had eyes for him even without any sort of fancy clothing or pretty affect. It didn’t seem polite. Instead he stood patiently with his arms at his sides, watching as Yuta lifted his hand and snapped his fingers together, the sound crisp and loud in the silence of the garden.

The air around Jaemin started to shimmer the same way it did around Yuta, crackling and popping and fizzing. It was the strangest feeling, magic. Almost like when a limb falls asleep and you have to fight through the oddness to wake it back up, his entire body filled with a strange sort of buzzing sensation. To his right he heard Yukhei gasp, though he couldn’t focus on that, too busy staring at Yuta as a wide grin spread across his face. In moments the strange sensations passed, and Jaemin looked up with expectancy in his eyes.

“Did it work?” he asked, bouncing eagerly on his toes.

Renjun stepped forward to stand by Yuta, forgetting his wariness so he could get a better look. “Na Jaemin, you look like a prince yourself,” he whispered, eyes wide.

Jaemin looked down at the clothes he now wore, the finest things he’d ever seen in his life. His doublet was an inky sort of dark blue, the colour of deep midnight and decorated with silver buttons and fine silver embroidery. The leggings were well suited to his long legs, the boots shiny and new. Jaemin looked up with wide eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

Yuta snapped his fingers again, this time to get their attention. “Now. There’s one rule. My magic won’t last past daybreak, so you need to make sure you’re somewhere safe when the sun rises. We wouldn’t want to be caught skulking around in rags when we’re surrounded by nobility,” he said sternly.

“I hardly wear rags,” Jaemin scoffed.

Yuta waved his hand, dismissing the statement. “So, home by morning. Do you think you can manage that?”

Home by morning. It was barely seven now, that gave him a whole night to hopefully spend with Jeno. Jaemin nodded, smiling wide. “Thank you, Yuta. This means the world to me, my friend.”

Yuta seemed to beam at the title, straightening up a bit and dusting some imaginary dirt off of his shirt. “I’m glad to finally repay a lifetime of favours,” he said, eyes sparkling. “You’re kind, Na Jaemin. And kindness deserves reward.” His smile morphed into something more coy, something playful. “Now. Go get your man.”

-

The path leading into the castle was crowded with people milling about, excitement pressing in on Jaemin from all sides. Everything was a flurry of chatter and excitement, elaborate hairstyles and elegant dresses, fabric in colours he had never laid eyes on in his life that swirled and shifted in soft whispers with each movement. As he picked through the bodies he tried to hold himself tall, walking as if belonged among them.

“Has the prince taken a liking to anyone yet?”

“No, not that I’ve seen. He seems...sullen, really. I think he’s doing his best, but you can tell this wasn’t his idea.”

“Well. He has his pick of the entire kingdom and then some in there, so I’m not sure what he’s so upset about.”

Jaemin felt a spark of something like satisfaction as he listened, though he quickly chastised himself for it. Jeno needed to find someone. This was his chance to settle into a stable marriage, for him to find...some semblance of happiness, even if it wasn’t the happiness he had planned for. Pausing at the door, Jaemin stopped to wonder if he had made a poor decision. He himself had chastised Jeno for not wanting to move on, how was this fair him?

Still, he couldn’t exactly decline the gift of a Seelie, could he? With a soft sigh Jaemin straightened his shoulders and walked into the ballroom.

The crowd outside was nothing compared to the one within. There were places in the hall so packed with people that Jaemin’s shoulders brushed against them as he passed, a murmured litany of apologies falling from his lips each time he bumped into someone new. Not very royal of him to apologize so readily, he supposed, but he couldn’t quite help himself. He felt sorely out of place and desperately foolish trying to fit in with such a crowd.

Suddenly a hand clapped firmly against Jaemin’s shoulder, startling him so badly that he nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to see a man beside him wearing an easy smile and a curious look, one eyebrow raised.

“You carry yourself like you don’t know the first thing about a party like this. New to money, I assume?”

Jaemin laughed nervously, butterflies fluttering around his stomach at the very real possibility that he might be found out. “I wasn’t born into it, no,” he said slowly, careful not to lie. “It’s all very new to me. There are so many people, aren’t there?”

The man looked around, a bemused sort of expression on his face as he surveyed the crowd. “A fair few. I’ve seen worse, though. Last harvest we barely had room to sit, there were so many guests.” He hummed thoughtfully, offering his arm to Jaemin, who took it gratefully. The stranger was confident with each step, making it all the easier to navigate the crowd. “I dare say my cousin should be able to find someone in this group, don’t you think?”

Realization hit Jaemin quickly, his eyes going wide. “Lord Jackson! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” he stammered, swallowing hard.

“I don’t know how you could, we’ve never met,” Jackson reassured him. With this new knowledge Jaemin could see the resemblance to Jeno. Jackson had the same sharp jaw, the same smiling eyes and strong nose. “Have you been introduced to his highness yet?”

“I haven’t been able to find him,” Jaemin replied, another carefully constructed truth. “To be honest, I’m a bit overwhelmed by all the people. This is...all very new to me.”

Jackson smiled, so kind that Jaemin couldn’t help but relax as he was guided through the room. “I understand. I grew up on this sort of thing and I still get a bit overwhelmed. Here, I’ll help you get there.”

Jaemin held to Jackson like a lifeline, eyes wide as he absorbed the party around them. Despite everyone in the room being in competition with each other they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, chatting and dancing and enjoying the food that Jaemin, Renjun and the rest of the kitchen staff had worked so hard to prepare.

When Jaemin pointed out as much Jackson simply shrugged. “Most of the people here don’t have a chance with the prince, but advantageous matches can still be made. There will be plenty of winners tonight, I’m sure more than one wedding will be announced by the end of the week.” He pointed to two young men chatting by a punch bowl, eyes bright while they spoke. “Lords Moon and Kim. They’ve known each other since they were children. I’m sure they only came to see each other, neither has made any effort to speak to the prince all evening.”

Jackson grinned, motioning to another couple. “Minseok and Chanyeol. If I recall correctly they’re already betrothed, but Lord Kim won’t miss the opportunity to catch up on all the latest gossip.”

Jaemin laughed softly, the irreverent little game putting him at ease. “Who else?”

Jackson glanced around. “Oh! Over there. Prince Hoseok and a minor lord, Yoongi. They met earlier this evening and I haven’t seen them leave each other’s sides since.”

“It’s nice to think that people are finding their happiness here, even if they don’t end up betrothed to the prince,” Jaemin said with a smile. “And what of his highness? Has he had his eye on anyone tonight?”

There’s a pause as Jackson considered the question, eyeing Jaemin as if trying to decide if he could be trusted. “No one,” he said finally. “Between you and me, I think his heart belongs to another. Rumour is he’s been tripping all over himself for a kitchen boy, hence my aunt and uncle asking me to organize this event.”

Jaemin’s blood turned to ice. “Oh, dear. I hadn’t known,” he choked. “That won’t bode well for whoever he does choose, will it?”

“I suppose not,” Jackson said, shrugging again. “I say let him marry the damn kitchen boy. Who cares anymore? Maybe seeing one of the service staff elevated to royalty will thrill the kingdom, it would be exciting to see one of your own become a prince.”

“I doubt his parents feel the same way,” Jaemin sighed.

They walked for a while longer, Jackson returning to his game of pointing out the couples in the room. Jaemin could barely dedicate any attention to listening, too anxious in the knowledge that people were aware of he and Jeno’s relationship to enjoy it as he had before. Only when Jackson stopped walking did he snap back to attention, blinking quickly to clear his head of the fog he’d wandered into.

“Oh, here we are. Cousin, have you found the love of your life yet?”

Jaemin’s eyes went wide, landing on Jeno as the prince turned to face them. He looked indescribably beautiful. Dressed in a pure white jacket and leggings, crown perched carefully on his hair, he practically shone with an angelic sort of glow in the candlelight. Jaemin’s breath caught in his throat. He’d never seen Jeno dressed up like this before. The prince had always preferred function over fashion, wearing light shirts and simple breeches, boots he wouldn’t mourn if they were ruined while out riding. Here, in this moment, he looked like true royalty.

He also looked completely stunned.

“Jaemin?” he gasped, voice barely a whisper. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Jackson clapped his hands together, eyes bright. “I knew it was you, kitchen boy. You’re going to need to work on keeping your face neutral, you can’t lie to royalty. We’re too good at it.”

Jaemin swallowed hard, clasping his hands over his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m only here to see Jeno for a moment,” he begged, cheeks pink. “I promise, I won’t be here long, I won’t cause any trouble.”

Jackson waved his hand, dismissing the thought. “Stay as long as you want. You heard my opinion on the matter.” He turned to Jeno, raising an eyebrow. “You, cousin, need to find someone. By the end of the night someone in this room is going to be your fiancé. Do you understand?” He leaned in, dropping his voice. “You need to choose someone in this room.”

An unspoken conversation seems to pass between them, one that Jaemin clearly wasn’t meant to understand. Jeno gave a grin and a small nod to Jackson, who patted his cheek fondly. “Then I’ll take my leave. I think I have some well-placed rumours I need to put into effect.” He turned to Jaemin, a playful smirk on his face as he bowed. “Lord Jaemin.”

Jaemin stared in confusion as Jackson disappeared into the crowd. “Lord Jaemin? Why would he—”

“I don’t know, he’s a madman,” Jeno said quickly, eyes bright as he took Jaemin in. “You look...you look beautiful, Nana. Ethereal. How did this—how could you possibly—” He closed his eyes, laughing as he tried to collect himself. “It’s so good to see you here, Lord Na,” he finally managed, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Jaemin laughed at the honorific, blushing. “I couldn’t let the night pass without seeing you one more time.” He leaned in, a look of worry flickering over his face as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I was unkind, Jeno. To ask you to forget me so easily when I couldn’t promise the same about you…” He took Jeno’s hands, holding them tight. “I’ve spent the last week in absolute misery, salting every meal I made with my own tears. So when I wished to see you one last time...a friend overheard and made it possible.”

“A friend?” Jeno asked. “Renjun?”

“As if Renjun has done a single helpful thing in his entire life. No, you...you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaemin said, laughing softly.

“A mystery for later then,” Jeno said with a smile. It was the smile that Jaemin had always loved so dearly, the one that turned his eyes into crescent moons, dark and glittering and full of joy. “For now...will you dance with me?”

Of all the acts of intimacy Jaemin had shared with Jeno over time, the idea of dancing was the one to colour his cheeks and turn his knees to jelly. He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, I’d like that very much,” he murmured, taking the hand Jeno offered him. “You’ll have to guide me, I can’t say I’ve ever been taught to dance like a lord.”

“It’s easy,” Jeno said, easily leading Jaemin to the dance floor. As they walked by every guest in their path turned to stare, eyes going wide before fans were lifted to cover whispering lips. Jaemin blushed as he felt their eyes on them, ducking his head down.

“Everyone is staring,” he pointed out, clinging to Jeno’s arm like a lifeline.

Jeno glanced around, wholly unbothered by the sudden attention. “I suppose they are,” he nodded. “How could they not? You’re the loveliest thing they’ve ever seen, all they can do is stare.”

Cheeks going hot once more, Jaemin tried to hide his delight at the praise. “Jeno…”

“Come. Hold on to me,” Jeno instructed as they found a spot with slightly more room to breathe, grin turning mischievous. “Put this arm around my neck...there you go, now hold my hand with this one.” He looped his own arm around Jaemin’s waist, guiding him close until their chests were pressed together. “There. Alright?”

Jaemin nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s awfully intimate.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Jeno smiled wide, biting his lip as his eyes flickered over Jaemin’s face. “Alright, now follow me.”

Dancing with Jeno wasn’t unlike...other things. Maybe that’s why it came so easily to Jaemin. The steps seemed effortless as they moved around the floor, the gentle pressure of Jeno’s hand on his waist guiding him this way and that, communicating without words every step that needed to be taken. Jaemin found himself easing into the movements, truly relaxing for the first time since hearing of Jeno’s impending engagement. He smiled, gently squeezing Jeno's hand. "You dance beautifully, your highness," he teased. "One would never know you spent all of your days in the kitchen sneaking sweets when everyone's backs are turned."

Jeno grinned, rolling his eyes. "Well. You've heard the rumours. There's a lovely kitchen boy who seems to command all of my attention these days. It must be witchcraft."

"It must be," Jaemin said fondly. Despite the finality of the evening he still felt a warm sort of happiness simmering low in his chest. Slowly but surely everyone else in the room started to fade away, until there was no one but the two of them, spinning in slow circles around and around on the floor.

When the song ended Jeno reluctantly released Jaemin's waist, stepping back and bowing deeply. "I've never had a dancing partner quite like you, Lord Na."

Jaemin laughed, returning the bow. "I was thinking the same thing, your highness."

When the band started playing again it was a light tune, and immediately the crowd around them exclaimed their delight as they moved to form two circles, one outside of the other. The inner circle faced the outer, couples turned to each other with bright, excited looks and giddy chatter. Jaemin could see a few of the pairs Jackson had pointed out to him earlier, still too wrapped up in each other to care much at all about the prince at all. It was so incredibly dear to see people falling in love right before their very eyes. Jaemin sighed happily, hugging Jeno's arm.

"It's lovely, isn't it? Seeing everyone having such a good time?"

Jeno nodded, gaze soft as he watched Jaemin take it all in. "It is lovely. So very, very lovely."

The night progressed far too quickly. Jaemin let himself become so lost in the festivities that he nearly missed the hazy grey light starting to filter in through the high windows, the candles having burned so low that they were almost out. While a handful of guests were still quite full of excitement and energy many had moved to the sides of the hall, sitting in small, sleepy clusters that murmured and gossiped and—in some cases—dozed lightly.

Jaemin looked up from where he and Jeno had been talking to Jackson, a wild look in his eyes as he noticed the morning’s rapid approach. "The sun is rising."

"It is," Jeno said, trying to hide a small yawn behind his hand. "I'm surprised it's already day, normally I can barely make it through one of these things without having to sneak away to nap."

Jaemin barely heard his words, too busy extricating his arm from Jeno's. "Jeno—your highness, I have to—I have to leave,' he said urgently. He bowed to Jackson, panic flaring at the base of his skull. He only had so much time before Yuta's magic would wear off, which meant that everyone in the room would know he wasn't the lord he was pretending to be.

With a look of confusion Jeno took his hand, trying to hold him in place. "What do you mean you have to go? The party is still going! There's going to be a picnic on the grounds later, and some of the men want to go sailing, I thought I could—"

"Jeno no," Jaemin interrupted quickly. "I can't stay. The...the friend who helped me come tonight had one very specific rule, and it was that I must be gone by daybreak. It all goes away at daybreak."

In a move of sudden boldness he leaned in, pressing a swift kiss to the corner of Jeno's mouth before once more pulling from his grasp. "Lee Jeno, you will always be the love of my life," he swore, placing a hand over his heart as he made the vow. Promise thus made he turned and ran, sweeping through a group of startled onlookers as he took off through the hall and out the main doors.

The only benefit of such a hasty retreat was that he had no time to feel sorrow as he ran. Tapestries and stone walls flew past him in a blur, the heels of his leather shoes clicking against the floors with each frenzied step. Once outside he kept running, cutting a quick left once outside of the castle and taking off towards the hedge maze. Once he was tucked safely inside the welcoming embrace of the high green walls soothed his nerves. Only then did he allow himself to stop running and catch his breath.

As he gasped for air he could see the sky change from a hazy gray to a swirling palette of oranges and purples. As it did he could feel the prickle of magic once more covering his skin. Looking down, he watched with curious eyes as the fine clothing and expensive fabrics turned back into his simple linen shirt and gray trousers. His feet were bare—he only owned one pair of thin boots, he often saved them for the winter so he wouldn't ruin them before he truly needed them.

Standing there in his bare feet, shivering as the morning dew kissing the grass lapped at his ankles, he was once again nothing more than Na Jaemin.

With a shuddering sigh he started to wander deeper into the maze, letting his brain sort through the events of the evening. He hadn't given Jeno nearly enough warning before running out. Once again he'd been unfair, once again he'd abandoned his love to deal with his heartbreak on his own. Beyond that, how was Jeno supposed to pick a husband or wife when Jaemin had monopolized all of his time? Jeno had never had a proper chance to meet anyone else that evening, too busy dancing with Jaemin to find a mate.

Still...Jaemin couldn't bring himself to regret it, not really. He'd spent the entire evening spinning in Jeno's arms, not something he ever imagined he'd get to experience. And Jackson had been friendly, if not a little terrifying.

As he entered the center of the maze Jaemin sat on one of the stone benches, eyes drifting to the gazebo. "Thank you, Yuta," he whispered softly, closing his eyes. "It was more than I could have ever dreamed." He'd have to lay out something truly special that night after supper. Perhaps an entire tart, something with lots of honey and spice. Maybe some candied chestnuts, if he could find a quiet time to roast them. He owed his new friend.

"Jaemin?"

With a start Jaemin stood, hand to his heart as he turned on his heel. Standing at the entrance to the garden was Jeno, a soft, vulnerable look on his face as he slowly approached Jaemin.

"Jeno-yah," Jaemin choked, rushing to him. "What are you doing here? Your party..."

"You left so quickly, Jaeminnie," Jeno said softly, immediately wrapping his arms around Jaemin's waist and pulling him close. "You didn't give me the chance to say goodbye."

Jaemin leaned in, brushing their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. He let his eyes flutter shut, let himself be pulled in tighter as Jeno leaned in for more. "Jeno," he whispered, pulling back. "I'm sorry, it...it all wore off at sunrise. I couldn't let everyone see me go back to this, I..." He trailed off, looking down. "Let them think I'm some mysterious lord they'll never see again, rather than some filthy little kitchen boy."

"Excuse me." Jeno frowned, a stern set to his brow. "I love that filthy little kitchen boy, thank you so much."

The sound of footsteps came nearer until Jackson was standing there with them, eyes drifting around the garden. "You were right. How did you know he'd be here?"

"He's always here," Jeno said fondly. "He thinks it's a good hiding place, as if I weren't sneaking in with him half the time."

Jaemin felt like he was caught off his axis, as if he couldn't find the footing he needed to regain his balance. He looked between the two men, swallowing hard. "What's...what's going on? Why have you both followed me here? Won't everyone wonder where you are?"

"Let them wonder," Jackson said, waving his hand dismissively. "Jeno has a question for you, and I'm here for moral support."

That didn't help to set Jaemin at ease. He turned to Jeno, eyes expectant at the prince took his hands. "What's this all about, Jeno?" He let out a shaky little sigh. "Please, you're making me so anxious, what's going on?"

"Well..." Jeno looked down, a pretty flush rising to his cheeks. "At the party, when you first arrived, Jackson quite helpfully pointed out that I needed to choose someone in that room to be married to. And I couldn't help but realize that you...you were one of the people in the room. We were in the room together." He took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Jaemin's eyes. "So I choose you. I choose to be married to you."

The world was suddenly spinning too fast. Jaemin snatched his hands away, tears springing to his eyes. "This is a cruel joke to play, Jeno," he choked, hugging his arms tight around himself. "You know we can't."

Jackson was the one to respond to Jaemin's statement. "Actually, you can. Because we figured it all out on our way to find you."

Jaemin cautiously allowed Jeno to pull him into his arms once more, though he stared at Jackson with a look of utter confusion. "What do you mean? How could you possibly justify the prince marrying a serving boy?"

"Because you're not a serving boy, of course." Jackson was wearing a wide grin that suggested he was awfully proud of what he was about to say. "Outside of tonight, the king and queen have no idea of who you are. They've only ever seen you at the ball, where you made a very convincing lord who swept the prince off of his feet. So who's to say you're not? All we do is keep the charade up. It's not like they'll be around to ask any questions, I assume wedding planning duties will fall to me," he added loftily.

"And what, I pray that no one sees me walking around the village or working in the kitchen?" Jaemin asked, voice breaking. It all felt desperately foolish, and it hurt that they would try and get his hopes up like this. "I hope that none of the other workers rat us out?"

"You don't stay in the village. Not for now, at least," Jeno offered, his smile just as wide as Jackson's. "My cousin has offered to take you in until the wedding."

"That way I can also get you caught up on all the etiquette you need to know," Jackson added with a laugh. "Not that you don't play 'new to a title' very well."

Jeno finished their plan, still holding tight to Jaemin as if he might run. "Once we're married there's nothing that can be done. Beyond that, my parents will see how well the people take to me marrying one of their own and they won't be able to argue. Besides, we'll have our own land and our own wait staff, it's not like we'll live in the castle. Not until I become king, at least."

He reached up to stroke Jaemin's cheek, eyes going soft. "I know it sounds insane," he murmured, biting his lip. "I know, Jaeminnie. But there's no reason it won't work. And it's a chance for us to be together. No time limits, no fear. We can have our life together."

Jaemin stared at him for a long moment. He considered everything they'd just said, everything they'd proposed, letting himself see every single flaw in the plan and every way things could go terribly wrong. But he also let himself see Jeno, standing there with such hope and love in his eyes that it was dizzying.

He had always been terrible at saying no to Jeno's awful ideas.

"Alright," he said softly. "Alright. Jackson, I hope you're ready. Dancing was fun, but I don’t think I’ll take to the rest of it half as smoothly."

"Where's the fun in smooth?" Jackson asked with a wink.

There was no more room for conversation. Jaemin found himself scooped into Jeno's arms, kiss after kiss pressed to his face as he was spun in a circle, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes before the others could see.

-

They married in the summer. Somehow the plan went off without a hitch and by the time they were wed Jaemin was the picture perfect model of nobility, able to hold himself with carefully earned poise and ease. He charmed the pants off of his new in-laws, who told him in conspiratorial whispers behind Jeno's back that they knew who he was the moment they saw him at the ball, and that they couldn't see such happiness in their son's face and deny him what his heart wanted.

A month after the wedding they moved to their own little manor just outside of the village. Jaemin dragged Renjun along as the head of his serving staff, appointing Yukhei head of the stables and giving them their own little house nearby. Renjun insisted that they spend their first night in their new home as husbands, and though he said it with a fierce gaze Jaemin could see the joyful anxiety in his eyes as Jeno quickly rode to town to fetch a priest to marry he and Yukhei.

The people took to Jaemin just as as his new family did. It was surprising to them to see a royal so willing to work among them, to see Jaemin show up in the kitchens with Renjun every morning to start peeling potatoes and chopping onions for the day's meals. They were charmed every time the prince joined them to visit, laughing at the way Jaemin chastised him for stealing baked goods from the window sill until he was chased out with the threat of a wooden spoon to his backside if he didn't clear out.

Each night Jaemin walked upstairs with Jeno, hand-in-hand as they crossed the threshold of their bedroom. Each night they washed and dressed for bed, and each night they kissed sweetly before snuffing the candles out.

And each night, just before crawling under the covers and letting himself be tangled in Jeno's arms as they drifted to sleep, Jaemin left a dab of honey and a bowl of cream on the open window sill as thanks. And each morning they were gone.