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“Xiao Zhan!”
He ignores the call, hoping that no one finds him until he finishes the painting in front of him — he’s finally managed to mix the right shade of blue for it and Xiao Zhan might truly cry if it all dries up before he can claim it done and dusted.
“Zhanzhan!”
Uh oh, his sister’s voice has grown louder. Xiao Zhan smudges paint all over his canvas and makes quick work of the strokes. The door to the garden slides open and his sister’s footsteps are now audible behind the bushes Xiao Zhan is settled against.
Xiao Ya stands above him not too long after, hands on her hips as she surveys the mess her brother has made around the small pond in their garden. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”
“Yes, jiejie,” he mumbles, not making a move to stand.
“You have three seconds to move or I’ll dunk your painting inside that pond—”
“Ya-jie, no!”
“Do not test me, mister.”
Xiao Zhan groans, beginning to pack up. “Why can’t the two of you go without me? It’s not like I’ll do anything there but eat their food.”
“Xiao Hui wants you there. You know she’s shy, we have to be there for support!”
Shy is the last thing he'd use to describe their little sister. He continues pouting, but Xiao Zhan knows it’s a losing battle — he’s weak against anything involving his sisters after all. Besides, Xiao Hui has been blabbering nonstop about this blasted ball ever since its announcement a couple months back so he can’t possibly disappoint her on the first night of the three-day event.
Their little sister has grown a little bit obsessed with the idea of having the prince fall madly in love with her and marrying into the royal family.
“Jiejie! How should I do my hair?” Xiao Hui’s voice filters loudly past the door before they could even enter all the way through. She’s wiggling in her chair, hands impatiently combing through her long mass of dark hair.
“Why don’t you do it like how it was on your birthday?” Xiao Zhan suggests as he plops down on the small spot on the bed not littered with clothing.
“I can’t repeat a hairstyle,” she says it like Xiao Zhan had told her to show up bald. “I need to be the most beautiful girl in the room. He won’t notice me otherwise…”
Xiao Zhan hopes, for the sake of his sister, that the prince is worth all this preparation. “We’re all gonna be wearing a mask, Xiao Hui.”
“And that’s why my hair has to be extra pretty!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll do your hair.” Xiao Ya steps in, abandoning her own task of choosing the perfect formal robes to cater to Xiao Hui’s plight. “Stop worrying already, aren’t you the prettiest maiden in town?”
“In this town maybe, but what about the other towns? There’ll be so many people attending—”
Xiao Zhan closes his eyes, thinking of the black robes he’d gotten for this occasion still hidden inside his closet. That had been a long day of staring at yards and yards of fabric displaying sky high prices. Xiao Zhan’s family isn’t poor — in fact, they are considered one of the wealthier families this side of the city but even he had been hesitant to spend so much money on something he’d probably wear only once or twice in his life.
“Xiao Zhan, go wash up and don’t even think about running off before we approve of how you look.” Xiao Ya mumbles around the pins trapped between her lips.
“I can clean up by myself!” he protests, hiding paint smeared hands behind his back.
Both women turn to give him a look but Xiao Hui follows it up with a gentle, “Of course Zhan-ge always looks good, but we’ve never been to an occasion this grand before! We have to be the best looking siblings in that room.”
Xiao Zhan doesn’t argue anymore, darting in to ruffle Xiao Hui’s half done hair and cackling at the trail of screeching he leaves behind.
When he returns to his sister’s room, bundle of formal robes clutched in his arms, both Xiao Ya and Xiao Hui are already in the middle of helping each other dress, long hair beautifully styled atop their heads.
His own hair is still a little damp from the bath he’d taken, tumbling in uncombed waves around his face. Xiao Ya makes grabby hands at him the moment he steps in while Xiao Hui takes his clothes to lay them out layer by layer across the bed.
“What did I tell you about long baths, Zhanzhan?” his jiejie admonishes, running her comb through his hair.
“Brush it before it dries…” he says under his breath, wincing when the tangles pull. “Why don’t I just cut it?”
Both sisters gasp, Xiao Hui walking over to whack him across the shoulders. “Mother would be livid, Zhan-ge, don’t say that.”
Xiao Zhan’s eyes roll up to the ceiling, sighing in defeat. His family lives east of the kingdom — particularly in a city boasting generations upon generations of famed warriors and scholars. Their people are known for adhering to stricter traditional values than some would prefer nowadays and Xiao Zhan, as the son of a high-ranking royal knight with a history firmly rooted within these lands, is held to a standard higher than the average young man around.
Xiao Ya finally wrestles his hair into a neat cascade behind his back and starts sectioning the top off into braids. “If you marry inside the royal gates, you can do whatever you want with your hair.”
Their little sister squeals at the thought. “What if we all marry inside the royal gates? Then we can be together forever — but richer!”
“Xiao Hui, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Xiao Ya is laughing though, meeting Xiao Zhan’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection.
“I don’t know jiejie, it sounds like a solid plan,” Xiao Zhan teases, “we have three days to find someone to marry.”
It starts up another one of Xiao Hui’s tirades about being the future princess as she twirls around them slowly donning the many layers of her robes. Xiao Zhan is released from the vanity shortly after and he sits on the bed dutifully helping his sisters with whatever they need. When it’s his turn to dress, Xiao Hui gleefully pulls the belt in so tight it punches a gasp out his chest.
“Xiao Hui! How am I supposed to eat like this?” He reaches for his waist, tugging on the tight cinch of the belts, but his hands are swatted away as Xiao Ya pushes his arms into sheer outer robes, tiny jewels twinkling under the lights in copper hues.
“Ugh, you guys look so good.” Xiao Ya claps her hands together, looking over both younger siblings with an approving nod. “If nobody falls in love with my cute little siblings, then the entire kingdom is blind.”
“Ya-jie,” Xiao Zhan fixes a jutting pearl pin in her hair. “Masks, remember?”
“Well, our beauty shines out of the mask!” Xiao Hui says.
Which doesn’t even make sense, because Xiao Zhan and his siblings have all chosen masks that cover pretty much the entire top half of their faces. Xiao Zhan’s is black, to match his robes, with tiny lines of copper making swirling shapes across the surface. He doubts the mask is impressionable enough to be memorable for anyone.
It’s his first time seeing the royal palace, so Xiao Zhan thinks he should be excused for all the not-so-classy gaping he’s doing at every turn.
“Zhanzhan,” Xiao Ya hisses, elbowing him when he starts wandering off again.
He slinks back beside her sheepishly. “Sorry, I was trying to see the library.”
They’re being escorted towards the ballroom and Xiao Zhan can hear another set of guests arriving into the hall behind them. Xiao Hui is the picture of beauty and grace in front of them — truly the Jewel of The East — but Xiao Zhan can’t help wanting to snicker at the fiddling hands hidden under her wide sleeves. Xiao Ya had brought snacks along for their journey and Xiao Hui hadn’t wanted to part with the pastries before getting off the carriage. Hence the hand full of snacks.
Xiao Hui cuts him a sideways look, somehow honing in on the fact that her brother is laughing at her expense, and sticks her tongue out at him, unbefitting of the elegant maiden she’s known as.
Xiao Zhan snorts, too late in dodging the flying sleeve Xiao Ya throws his way. The people behind them titter at the sight, which has Xiao Zhan ducking his head in embarrassment. The guards beside them are so stoic that he’s entirely forgotten about the audience behind them.
The room is already littered with guests from different parts of the kingdom once they’ve descended into the ballroom. Xiao Hui makes strange flapping motions with her hands and Xiao Zhan steps forward, catching what’s left of the pastries she’d smuggled into the palace.
Now with her hands free, Xiao Hui is quick to smooth her robes over, laughing when Xiao Zhan, with nowhere else to hide it, unceremoniously stuffs the pastry in his mouth.
“Where should we stand?” She looks around anxiously. Xiao Zhan imitates her and hones in on the buffet tables where he has a feeling he’ll spend most of the night standing in front of.
“We should head to the middle. The prince would come down those stairs, right?” They shuffle forward until they’re no longer huddling awkwardly on the side. There are other families decked out in their best robes looking at them but Xiao Zhan thinks his sisters are the most beautiful women to ever grace god’s green earth so he doesn’t pay them any mind.
“Xiao Ya?” Someone calls out from the crowd and the siblings turn around to see the Chens making their way over. Family friends. That’s good.
The party gets better now that they’ve found people to mingle with and Xiao Zhan eventually breaks off to speak with the friends he recognizes on the side. He doesn’t keep track of the time but he doesn’t think any of the royal family have made an appearance yet. Although Xiao Zhan disapproves of all this waiting, he can’t help but wonder how the prince is like in person. Is he as handsome as the painters make him out to be? Would he treat his guests with kindness? Not much is known about the heir to their kingdom's throne beyond what filters past the royal gates.
Ah. All that fantastical talk Xiao Hui has subjected them under is really getting to his head.
“Zhanzhan.” That’s Xiao Ya’s voice whispering in what Xiao Zhan labels as her panicking voice.
He excuses himself from his group, tracing his steps back to where his sisters are standing together.
“What’s wrong?” He takes in Xiao Hui’s fidgeting stance and the curl of worry on Xiao Ya’s lips.
“Xiao Hui accidentally ate a fruit tart with apples in it,” Xiao Ya says. Xiao Zhan immediately ducks down, holding Xiao Hui’s hand and studying her face — she has bad allergic reactions to apples of all things but it’s only funny in theory. It can get pretty bad when not addressed quickly. “Will you stay here? It won’t look very good for the Xiaos to leave before the royals even make an appearance—”
The crowd murmurs when the double doors open up to reveal three silhouettes standing under the dim lights. The young man between two imposing figures steps into the light and sweeps his eyes across the room.
Xiao Hui whimpers, actual tears gathering in her eyes as she watches the prince take slow steps down the stairs behind the king and the queen.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Xiao Hui,” Ya-jie says, rubbing a hand over Xiao Hui’s back. Their little sister looks like she’s about to hurl but Xiao Zhan isn’t sure whether it’s the bad stomach or the utter disappointment over her most anticipated day.
“I’ll stay.” To his sister, he says, “Hey, tomorrow will be a better day, hm?” Being left alone in this ball is the last thing he wants, but looking down at Xiao Hui’s devastated expression is enough to fuel Xiao Zhan. He knows all three representatives of their family leaving before the first dance could be taken as some sort of insult towards the royal family — and there’s no way he would allow for that to happen.
Privately, he wishes their parents weren’t off frolicking elsewhere so they could suffer this party instead but there’s nothing he can do about that now.
He trudges to the buffet table he’d correctly predicted to keep him company all night and glares at the fruit tarts. Behind him, the hired dancers finish their routine to the sound of soft applause and mutterings of approval.
The floor is opened up for dancing now that the prince has arrived. He can practically feel the anticipation building as more and more couples fill the open space, the crowd curious as to who the prince would choose for his first dance.
Xiao Zhan returns his attention towards the food, contemplating whether he should eat all the tarts as some sort of punishment or if that would somehow bring shame upon his family.
A throat clears beside him, and Xiao Zhan whirls, apology at the ready for being in the way, when he’s met with the gentle smile of the prince who is holding his hand out like—
Oh no.
Xiao Zhan bites his lip against a scream and belatedly bows low. “Your highness.”
Smile growing, the prince inclines his head in acknowledgement but doesn’t drop his outstretched hand. “May I?” he asks, voice so deep Xiao Zhan almost loses the sound of it under the music.
“I—” No? No, you may not? He’s pretty sure he can’t say that. “Alright, um.” Xiao Zhan places his hand atop the prince’s palm, surprised when those long fingers curl possessively around his own. There must have been a propriety code violated in there somewhere, he’s sure.
The prince places a hand low on his back, the warmth of it encompassing the entirety of its surface. Xiao Zhan swallows at the span of the prince’s hand on his waist and distractedly wonders if he should thank Xiao Hui for tying his belt so snugly after all.
Xiao Hui.
The music starts up once the prince has settled into position and Xiao Zhan tries his best to ignore all the sticky eyes pinned in their direction.
Neither of them say anything at first — the prince seems content to just gaze at him while Xiao Zhan very carefully looks everywhere but at the prince’s face. His skin prickles at being the subject of that intense focus and he shivers when the draft from the open terrace breezes by, sensitive to all sensation.
The prince pulls him closer then, leading them to the side further away from the cold touch of the wind. Xiao Zhan smiles at his thoughtfulness, finally gaining the courage to meet the prince’s eyes with his own.
“How are you liking the party so far?” the prince inquires politely. Xiao Zhan only now notices that he’s actually got one or two centimetres on the prince, despite the aura of him being so much larger than anyone else’s in the room.
“It is—” terrible. My sister has been poisoned by one of your— “acceptable.”
The prince laughs, the sound so startlingly boyish when compared to his speaking voice. “Acceptable?”
“For the buffet specifically, I recommend recipes containing no apples, preferably for the duration of the ball.” Xiao Zhan might as well go for it. It’s not like he’s the one who asked the prince for a dance so if his highness gets offended then that’s on him.
“You have something against apples?” The prince spins them around and only Xiao Zhan’s ingrained dance lessons keeps him from stumbling while following the movement.
“Haven’t you heard?” Xiao Zhan smiles, the story of some maiden from the north coming to mind. “They’re easily poisoned! And you won’t be able to tell with that red colour.”
The prince smiles again and Xiao Zhan is dizzy from the sight of it warring with the rumours he’s heard of the prince’s stony disposition. “That’s a good point, I’ll alert the kitchens. Can’t have any of my guests poisoned now, can I?”
Xiao Zhan wants to say it’s too late for that but he doesn’t want to actually cause worry for the prince; he seems like a genuinely nice man. Beautiful too, no doubt. His short hair is split on the side, the front curling to perfectly frame a small face. The emerald green mask reserved solely for the royal family doesn’t deter from the sharpness of his eyes, the shape of his nose, the curve of his smile — he’s perfect, objectively speaking.
Perfect for Xiao Hui to be dancing with instead of him.
The dance should end with every couple spinning away from each other and switching to partner up with the person to their right — it’s the easiest out of all traditional ball dances, everyone here should know it — but when Xiao Zhan turns away from the prince, he holds onto Xiao Zhan’s hand and tugs him right back into his arms.
Robes of differing colours billow out from around them in perfect synchronization, each person gradually finding themselves inside the arms of new partners.
In the midst of swirling glitter and silk stands Xiao Zhan and his prince, arms locked around one another.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to go this way,” Xiao Zhan says, a little breathless from swallowing back laughter. He’s aware of the foul looks being thrown his way — the error they’ve made would never be blamed on the prince, of course. Xiao Zhan can only imagine what the particularly bitter gossips would be saying about him if he doesn’t put a stop to this soon.
“Eh, this is my party,” the prince retorts, “who’s gonna stop me?”
Xiao Zhan can’t help it when he laughs this time, shaking his head fondly. “Spoken like a true spoiled prince.”
The prince balks. “Spoiled? Me?”
“Your parents had the entire kingdom coming in to play dress up at your house because you wanted to get married.” Xiao Zhan raises his brow. “Still not spoiled?”
The prince looks up in exasperation. “I don’t want to get married,” he says, “I didn’t, anyway.” His eyes catch Xiao Zhan’s after a pause and Xiao Zhan blinks, scrambling to understand its significance, but the prince is already continuing, “But my parents think it’s about time I start courting.”
“Ah.” Xiao Zhan breaks eye contact, eyes darting around to find ways to escape. The prince can’t possibly be entertaining the thought of courting him. Xiao Zhan would have no face to show his sisters if that happens. “I hope this party serves you well then.”
“It already has.”
Xiao Zhan blushes, thankful of the mask for obscuring it. “Your highness…”
“Please call me Yibo.”
Like hell he would.
“Um, I’m not… here… for that,” Xiao Zhan says, squirming under the prince’s hold — the palm on his back is so hot, Xiao Zhan hopes he doesn’t start sweating. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re attached?” Yibo falters, hands tightening on Xiao Zhan before forcibly loosening.
“No, but I was only here to accompany my sisters, not as a marriage prospect,” he explains, biting his lip when he notices their steps slowing. That’s okay, it’s best for the prince to let him go and dance with someone else. That’s what he wants, really. “I’d make a terrible consort anyway.”
“And how do you know that?” Yibo’s head tilts to the side, reminding Xiao Zhan of a puppy. “You’ve been consort to some other royalty before? Anyone I know?”
Xiao Zhan snorts, yanking his hand out of Yibo’s hold when the second dance comes to an end. He doesn’t let the prince take him back this time around, letting the flow of trailing robes swallow him out of sight. But rather than staying to dance with another, Xiao Zhan spins out of the dance floor completely.
He makes his way towards the far side of the grand ballroom where — you guessed it — another buffet table lines the wall. There aren’t a lot of people lingering on this side so Xiao Zhan manages to avoid the worst of the curious stares.
A fluke. He’s sure being chosen as the prince’s first dance had been a fluke. Xiao Zhan brings chilled hands up to soothe his heated cheeks. Yibo will find someone worthwhile at some point before midnight hits and Xiao Zhan would be long gone by then.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually like the food here.”
He jumps, spinning in his spot only to see the grinning face of one Wang Yibo behind him, again, standing posture perfect with hands behind his back.
“Shouldn’t you be dancing?” Xiao Zhan turns away, snatching up a plate to pile his food in — he simply refuses to leave this ball without sampling the most important part of it, confusingly persistent prince be damned.
“I’ve lost my partner.” Yibo plucks a grape from one golden plate and pops it in his mouth without a care for anyone witnessing his lack of grandeur. “Can’t have the prince dancing by himself now.”
“Oh please, the entire room is your partner.” Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes, putting his plate down and catching Yibo’s hand before the prince could stain his fingers with chocolate. He takes a small cloth and places the dessert Yibo had been reaching for on it. “It’s not polite for you to leave your suitors hanging.”
Their hands brush as Yibo takes the cloth, and Xiao Zhan hurries to shove whatever piece of food he sees in front of him in his mouth to prevent himself from reacting — he cringes, doing his utmost to not spit out the atrocity he’d just eaten.
“And you?” Yibo asks, a touch of that lovely smile still lining his lips. “Isn’t it also impolite for you to leave your suitor hanging?”
Xiao Zhan, mouth full with some vegetable concoction from hell, brays angrily in response. He walks off, plate of food cradled to his chest as he looks for the drinks.
The prince’s steps follow after him and Xiao Zhan clamps a hand over his mouth when he feels himself start to smile.
“Your highness—”
“Yibo.”
“My prince,” Xiao Zhan retorts, frowning above his glass of fruit juice. Yibo only looks at him as if he’s watching a hissing baby animal. “Please don’t let anyone hear you say that.”
“Say what?”
Xiao Zhan sighs, “You are not my suitor.”
Ahead of them, the prince’s guests continue to dance, the braver ones lingering outside of the floor have thrown many a glance in Yibo’s direction. Yibo pays them no mind, acting like he takes no notice of them at all. “Would you…” he seems to hesitate for the first time. “What is your name?”
Ah.
“I remember being told we are not to reveal anything until the last day of the ball.” Xiao Zhan moves on to the east wall, humming as he looks over a different set of delicacies.
“It’s a stupid rule!” Yibo sounds thoroughly offended.
Xiao Zhan stifles a giggle into his own shoulder. “The prince can’t simply break the rules he thinks are stupid.”
“Says who?”
“Uwah! Spoiled prince!”
Neither of them return to dancing even as the hours pass. Xiao Zhan has successfully made a full round for the buffet tables on each end, filling his plate with whatever catches his fancy while the prince trails behind him, always with a quip or two. Xiao Zhan, used to bickering with his sisters all the time, can’t resist bantering with Yibo either.
Something about him makes Xiao Zhan forget that he’s supposed to be speaking to royalty — that Yibo isn’t one of his friends back home and shouldn’t be treated with the lack of care Xiao Zhan is treating him with. He thinks his parents would be horrified if they see the way Xiao Zhan is acting right now.
If his sisters see how he’s acting right now.
He wants to scream.
A bell chimes in the background, faint as a dream, when the clock strikes midnight.
The music stops and the king stands from his seat, drink raised as he prepares to begin his speech. Xiao Zhan uses this opportunity to slip away, knowing Yibo can’t cause a ruckus while the crowd silently listens to his father’s words.
The prince startles, hands closing around thin air as Xiao Zhan narrowly makes his escape. He winds through the crowd, mumbling soft apologies as he heads straight for the exit without checking if he’s being followed. He doesn’t think Yibo would have enough gall to chase after him during the king’s speech—
“Wait!”
Oh my god.
Xiao Zhan hurries his steps, using his long legs to charge out of the hallway before Yibo catches up to him. Thank god all the guards are now stationed inside the ballroom or else Xiao Zhan has no doubt he would have been stopped by one of them.
He bursts out the giant doors with a heart stopping struggle but takes the stairs two at a time to make up for the lost distance between them, rushing towards where his sisters have left him a horse to ease his way home.
“Hold on!”
Stubborn, persistent prince, Xiao Zhan thinks fondly, hopping up on his horse and wasting no time in turning into the path. The horse gallops away and Xiao Zhan is soon unable to hear Yibo’s voice, never daring to look back even when the castle fades into the length of the forest behind him.
“How was the ball?” Xiao Hui sniffs miserably under the multiple blankets she’s lugging around. Her eyes are red-rimmed but Xiao Zhan can’t tell if it’s from crying or from the allergies.
“You didn’t miss much,” he says, removing his layers until he’s left only in his inner robes. Xiao Zhan hangs his mask by the mirror and ushers his sister back into her own bedroom.
“Did the prince dance with anyone?” she whines once she’s back in bed.
He tucks the blankets into the sides of the bed, essentially trapping her there until she’s strong enough to break out in the morning.
“No,” he says, “he didn’t dance with anyone back there.”
Xiao Zhan barely lingers at the party on the second night.
With Xiao Hui no longer ailed by the apples, both her and Xiao Ya are free to socialize and dance all they want. The royal family show up dramatically late as always but Xiao Zhan doesn’t stick around for them, sneaking into the gardens while the guards are busy with a commotion at the entrance.
The gardens are well lit, enough that Xiao Zhan doesn’t mind hanging around here until his sisters are ready to head home — he wishes he’d brought a book with him but that would probably be too suspicious a cargo for his nosy sisters to let past without an explanation.
He’s sitting on the ground, leaning against the tall bushes trimmed perfectly into the shape of a maze when he hears footsteps behind him. Xiao Zhan sighs, fully prepared to get kicked out by one of the guards for his illegal infiltration of some sort.
But the voice behind him is all too familiar as it chides, “Are you hiding from me?”
Xiao Zhan jumps up, turning into a corner and peeking around the bush.
“I know you’re here.” Yibo’s voice is now coming from his left. “I already saw you.”
“What are you doing out here?” Xiao Zhan gives up on pretending to be invisible, walking the maze slowly while he talks so as to make sure that Yibo never finds him. “Don’t you have guests to entertain?”
“I have entertained them.” He can’t pinpoint the prince’s location, but Xiao Zhan knows he’s not very far away. Xiao Zhan steps up a short incline, following the twining path ahead of him.
“The ball is not yet over, you’re leaving many broken hearts on the dance floor.”
There’s a shuffling in the bushes nearby and Xiao Zhan gasps as he makes an abrupt turn.
“There are better things to do than to dance all night, don’t you think?” Yibo’s words are infuriatingly even for someone giving chase.
“Yes, as I’m sure there are also better things to do than to follow me around your garden, my prince.” Xiao Zhan swerves in another direction, biting his lips against a blooming smile.
“If you would stop running, I would stop following!”
Xiao Zhan laughs, hysterically enough, when he hears Yibo’s voice directly across from the bushes beside him. He covers his mouth at once, aware that he’s just given away his own location. “Then I’m afraid I’ll be wasting your night away like this.”
“I’m warming up to the idea, actually.” The smile is evident behind the prince’s tone.
He laughs again, picking up speed until he’s running down the narrow paths, shoes striking against the pavement while Yibo’s steps also quicken to match with his. Soon enough, they’re racing from aisle to aisle like little children, with Xiao Zhan chancing glances at every corner of the green walls, ensuring that the coast is clear.
“This garden is only so big, you know,” Yibo says after a stretch of silence. Xiao Zhan is gratified to hear a hint of exertion in the prince’s voice this time around.
Xiao Zhan bends to pick up a stray cluster of baby’s breath from the ground. Under the fiery wash of the lanterns, it glows a pure white. “It’s plenty big for two people to lose each other.”
Yibo hums, his steps slowing when it’s evident that Xiao Zhan is no longer dashing around the maze like a madman.
“Won’t His and Her Majesty be looking for you inside?”
“I’ve already met the purpose of the ball.” Yibo sounds way too close for comfort and Xiao Zhan panics, running into another section of the maze. “There’s no point if you’re not there.”
“I already told you I’d make a terrible partner.” Xiao Zhan takes the path to the right, peering out to look both ways before crossing over. “Have you heard of the Jewel of The East? Cheesy title but she’s very beautiful. Perfect fit for a princess.”
“I have never been fond of jewels.”
Xiao Zhan turns left, resting against a tree alight with fireflies winking in and out of sight. “It’s just a title,” he huffs, indignant for his sister. “Don’t judge a person by what others call them, oh mighty Ice Prince.”
“Is that what they call me?” Yibo asks from right behind him.
Xiao Zhan will never admit to shrieking but he does. Shriek. He also spins around so violently he accidentally whacks His Royal Highness in the face with his hair. The whimper that leaves his mouth is entirely justified; Xiao Zhan is mortified by this chain of events.
“I am so sorry,” Xiao Zhan says, clutching the long strands of hair to his chest as if they’ve grown sentient and would start attacking Yibo out of nowhere. “But it’s your fault for scaring me!”
Yibo only grins. “You haven’t answered my question,” he says, stepping closer.
Xiao Zhan jerks back, halfway hiding behind the tree as he wraps his arms around it, brandishing his stem of baby’s breath defensively like a sword. “Yes, Ice Prince. How would you have liked it if I judged you based on that?”
“That would be terrible.” Yibo is undeterred, brushing past the glowing flowers as if relishing the fact that Xiao Zhan had just accidentally trapped himself between a rock and a hard place. The prince is a sight for sore eyes this evening — he’s wearing the same green mask but draped on his shoulders is a new set of robes that works wonders in accentuating their broadness.
That’s not the point, however.
“Exactly,” Xiao Zhan responds weakly, shuffling backwards to put more space between them. Luckily enough, the prince doesn’t step any closer, allowing Xiao Zhan all the space he needs to regret his decision to try and navigate a maze that the prince had probably grown up playing in, discovering its nooks and corners and shortcuts.
He sees Yibo reaching out for his hand so Xiao Zhan slides it up higher, tutting with disapproval. “Where are your manners, your highness? Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to grab people without permission?”
The prince sighs, lowering his hand. “Sorry, I only wanted—” Another sigh. “How many times do I need to tell you to address me by my name?”
Xiao Zhan presses himself closer to the tree, close enough to maybe hear the ants spreading juicy gossip about them if he listens well. “At least one more time.”
There’s a shift in the air by Xiao Zhan’s ear but he doesn’t pay it any mind until he realizes that Yibo has slid a lock of Xiao Zhan’s hair in between his fingers, lifting the ends of it up to his lips to press a kiss not unlike how one would kiss the back of someone’s hand.
Xiao Zhan gasps, a red hue painted over his entire face as the prince continues to hold Xiao Zhan’s hair to his cheek — he knew he should have cut the damn thing off when he had the chance. Despite all protests, however, Xiao Zhan feels himself melting at the gesture. Nobody has ever been so bold towards him.
Yibo’s lips part into a smile, letting the strands of Xiao Zhan’s hair slip like water from between his fingers. “Nameless stranger I can’t stop thinking about,” he says, returning his hands to their proper perch behind his back. “Please come back inside with me. I would trade anything for the honour of dancing with you again.”
Xiao Zhan squints, cheeks still flushed and heart beating wildly at the prince’s continued pursuit. He doesn’t buy it though — he’s seen enough of Yibo’s underlying goblin tendencies to know he wouldn’t stop at a dance. And plus, Xiao Zhan can’t risk his sisters seeing them at all.
But before he could come up with a polite refusal, the large bell by the castle chimes its tune at the strike of midnight. Xiao Zhan closes his eyes and risks tearing at his morbidly expensive robes as he slips through the bushes behind him. He hisses when a small branch scratches a thin line across his cheek.
“Shit, will you stop that— wait!” Yibo’s protests ring out in the silence of the night.
Hah, not so princely now, is he? Shortcuts or not, there’s no way Yibo could catch up to him without fighting through the bushes as well. Xiao Zhan drops his flowers and bulldozes his way out of the maze, inwardly apologizing for the leafy mess he leaves behind.
He deems it safer to hide in their carriage rather than the ballroom, waiting for his sisters’ arrival as he picks at the tiny branches tangled in his hair.
“What happened to you?” Xiao Hui enters first, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed from exertion. Xiao Zhan has no problem believing that his sister had quite literally danced the night away. Xiao Ya follows after her, more subdued but no less happy.
Well he’s glad the two of them had a grand time, at least.
“I got into a fight,” he says, running a hand through his hair to make sure nothing else is left trapped inside.
Xiao Ya is looking at him skeptically. “With what?”
“A… dragon.” He blurts out without much thought. “A very… persistent dragon.”
“Wow… I did hear that the royals have magical creatures guarding their home but nobody’s actually seen them! Are you okay?”
Oh thank god. “It was harmless.”
Ya-jie fusses over the cut on his cheek while Xiao Hui helps to braid his hair on one side. Xiao Zhan pouts and accepts the extra attention, playfully complaining about being left to fend for himself.
Xiao Hui’s in the middle of telling a story about the fight that almost broke out on the dance floor when Xiao Ya interrupts her with a suggestive little giggle. “Enough about that already, I saw you dance with the prince!”
“Oh yes,” Xiao Hui sighs fondly. “His first dance of the night was with his mother, did you know? How sweet is that?”
“Very.” Xiao Zhan fiddles with the tail end of his braid, consciously keeping a smile on his face as his sister continues to gush about the prince.
“And when it was my turn to dance with him— gosh he was the perfect gentleman.”
He barely hides his snort behind a cough.
“He did ask some strange questions, though.”
“Oh?” Ya-jie unfurls her fan and hides her grin behind it. “What kind of questions?”
Xiao Hui bats at her, dismissive. “Not that kind. He was asking if I’d seen someone…” She pauses, studying Xiao Zhan pensively. “His description sounded a lot like gege, actually, but it couldn’t have been you, right? You’d already ran off before they arrived tonight.”
Xiao Zhan hums, smile frozen on his face.
“It was pretty general anyway! You weren’t the only long-haired man in black robes out there.” Xiao Hui continues on, oblivious to the storm she’s stirring up within Xiao Zhan. “Anyway…”
He settles back in relief when the topic veers far away from Yibo and his apparent quest for Xiao Zhan’s whereabouts — he can’t possibly return to the ball tomorrow evening. What if the prince so happens to dance with one of the few friends who’d already recognized Xiao Zhan? He’d be doomed.
“Zhanzhan!” Xiao Ya grabs his arm and stares down in disappointment at the tear on his sleeve. “You need to be more careful! What will you wear tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles, tugging his arm away. “Won’t mother be attending tomorrow? I’ll just stay home and help father with his plants.”
“But it’s the final day, gege,” Xiao Hui leans over to prop her chin on his shoulder, pouting pitifully up at him. “What if something magical happens and you miss it?”
Something magical his ass.
The thing is, his father is a retired knight. But he hadn’t simply been a guard to the royal family.
Xiao Zhan is often reminded of how his father had been present to watch baby Prince Yibo catapult congee on each and every one of the elders’ faces during a counsel meeting, cackling gleefully at every attempt to stop him without squishing his pudgy baby arms.
Father had been as close to family as a royal knight could get, having retired only recently from his position as one of the king’s most trusted hands due to injury and old age.
And because of this relationship, his father often receives gifts from the king and his family, ranging from useful items to I thought of you while seeing this painting of an angry man yelling at his dead plants, I hope you and the farming hobby you took up during retirement are doing well, my friend. Xiao Hui has long been hinting for their father to formally introduce her to the prince but he’s either ignorant of this or is purposely acting clueless.
Needless to say, Xiao Zhan isn’t too surprised when the prince sends off his own gift for his father — a beautiful set of bow and arrows to add to his collection. He did hear that his father had been the one to teach the prince most of his combat skills.
He just didn’t expect for Yibo to make a personal delivery out of it.
Mother and his sisters are out at the market, having heard that a group of travelling merchants known for carrying rare artifacts are in town. So he’s left to tend to the kitchen with father, who’s too busy convincing his dying plants to come alive again to actually help out.
He misses the series of knocks the first time around and has to hurry out of the kitchen when the knocking grows heavier.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the—” Xiao Zhan abruptly shuts his mouth, staring at the profile of one Wang Yibo, dressed in casual clothing, sans the emerald mask. He has the sudden urge to slam the door in the prince’s face before he turns and sees Xiao Zhan.
But no such luck, as Yibo shifts to face him fully in the next second, blinking slowly in a perfect imitation of the fat, sleepy cat that keeps terrorizing the Xiao family garden. Xiao Zhan holds his breath, reminding himself that he’d been wearing a mask at the ball so the chances of the prince recognizing him now are fairly low.
“I will get father,” he whispers, keeping his voice low in hopes of preventing Yibo from recognizing it.
However, when he tries to leave, Yibo’s hand shoots out to catch his wrist, keeping Xiao Zhan standing by the door. His other hand reaches out and shamelessly cups the side of Xiao Zhan’s face, brushing his thumb under the healing cut on his cheek.
There are two guards flanking the prince but only Xiao Zhan seems hyperaware of their eyes watching the scene unfold.
Xiao Zhan opens his mouth, fidgeting on the spot. “Y—”
“Wang Yibo,” his father’s voice is loud from across the room and Xiao Zhan is amused to watch Yibo flinch, unhanding him in an instant, fingers twiddling with the fabric of his sleeves like a naughty child scolded. “Your highness,” father follows up in the same tone, bowing at the waist.
“Uncle.” Yibo mirrors the bow, dipping lower than he should be, considering his status.
Uncle, huh. Xiao Zhan runs off to the kitchen before they’re reminded of his presence. He watches his father clap a friendly arm over Yibo’s shoulder while inquiring about his well-being. It’s the first time he’s seen his father interact with the royal family and although he knows he’s close with them in theory, it’s still strange to witness the casual way he’s allowed to act around them.
Father has always been careful to separate his personal and work lives. So careful, in fact, that Xiao Zhan and his sisters had grown up without a hint of knowledge on the goings on behind the public screen that the royal family puts up. Despite watching Yibo over the years just as he’d watched his own children, father had never once voiced his thoughts on Xiao Hui’s wish to wed the prince.
Yibo doesn’t spare him another glance for the rest of his visit, and Xiao Zhan desperately beats down the twinge of disappointment from realizing that Yibo hadn’t recognized him after all. Isn’t that what he wanted?
The rest of his family returns just before the prince makes his departure, which has the hilarious effect of Xiao Hui almost passing out where she stands. Xiao Zhan covers his giggle with the bowl of soup he’s ladling, turning his back on them when Yibo’s eyes move towards him at the sound. He doesn’t turn around again until Yibo’s already at the door, bowing with the rest of his family as they wish the prince a safe trip back home.
“So no one was planning to warn me that Prince Wang Yibo himself would be paying us a visit today?” Xiao Hui screeches once the door closes. “How did I look?!”
“Beautiful as always, meimei,” Xiao Ya says placatingly, exchanging amused glances with their mother.
Xiao Zhan shakes his head at her antics and says, “Nobody knew he was coming,” as he lays out their food. It only just occurs to him that father hadn’t invited the prince to join them for lunch. How peculiar.
Xiao Hui continues grumbling under her breath, plopping into her seat at the table. “If father had just introduced us beforehand, I wouldn’t be under this amount of stress.”
Their father grunts out a vague non-answer, but his eyes aren’t on Xiao Hui — Xiao Zhan finds himself hiding away from his father’s penetrating gaze, unsure of why he feels so guilty when he’s done nothing wrong. “I will accompany you all to the ball tonight,” comes father’s surprising words.
His sisters yelp with excitement, talking over one another as they discuss which mask father should wear with which robes. Their mother does nothing to stop them but she’s watching father with fond exasperation, like he’s acting out somehow.
Xiao Zhan doesn’t understand it but he lowers his eyes as father grunts, evidently grumpy about something. He stares at his muddled reflection in the bowl of soup, resigned in his fate to attend the last day of the ball after all.
He’d just have to change his appearance and hope that the prince fails to recognize the stranger he’s been so bullheadedly chasing after.
The mask he's chosen is pale blue and covers his entire face. It isn’t nearly as comfortable as the one he’d worn originally — and he can’t eat without putting his disguise at risk — so it’s an all around type of suffering.
But it’s effective. Xiao Zhan has been skulking the corners of the ballroom for a while now and Yibo hasn’t noticed him once. Yibo is distracted even when he’s swept into dance after dance, head turning every time a tall person in black walks by.
Something within Xiao Zhan twinges as he watches; he didn’t think his prince would look so lost, searching for a person who doesn’t want to be found.
Xiao Zhan goes to the terrace to air out his— woes? He can’t stand the sight of the prince’s longing for a second longer. It’s dangerous for his dwindling resolve.
There is no one else at the terrace besides him, as no one in their right mind would willingly subject themselves under the particularly chilly weather outside. Layers of his blue robes lift in response to the howling wind, but Xiao Zhan ignores the cold. All he has to do is stay under the radar for the rest of the night and then the prince could meet someone else and forget about Xiao Zhan altogether.
Xiao Zhan, knowing himself, would cherish what little of Yibo’s affections he’d managed to garner and he can already imagine the months ahead being spent daydreaming about what could have been, if only Xiao Zhan had been shameless enough to accept the prince’s proposition behind his sister’s back.
A high-pitched titter comes like an ominous warning from the corner of the terrace.
He slowly looks over, blinking at the sight of a grinning fox sitting on its haunches, looking for all the world like an innocent woodland creature.
The royal family have magical creatures guarding their land, is what Xiao Hui said. Xiao Zhan has no doubt this fox isn’t as harmless as it’s posing to be.
Hands flying out for the doors behind him, Xiao Zhan tries to sneak back out as swiftly as possible without startling the animal. But the fox seems to clue in on his plan and it hops up on its feet, jumping high in the air and stealing the mask right off of Xiao Zhan’s face.
“Hey!” he hisses quietly, not wanting to alert anyone inside the ballroom, and makes a swipe for the creature’s wiggling tail.
It dodges his hands easily, running in a circle in front of him as if daring him to give chase.
“Give it back. Now.” He holds out his hand, attempting a stern, authoritative tone.
The fox giggles at him.
Oh it thinks this is funny, huh. “Give it back!” Xiao Zhan lunges forward, predictably missing his target. The fox hops off the railing, screeching happily as it lands on the grassy meadow below them. The ballroom is on the first floor and although the castle is layered higher than normal houses, Xiao Zhan estimates that the ground isn’t too far off to make a safe jump down.
He dearly hopes nobody of import witnesses his graceless descent from the terrace — he and his sisters have somehow gathered a reputation of elegance due to god knows what. He’d loathe for that to go to waste.
“Come back here, you little demon!” He runs to where he sees a tuft of the creature’s bushy tail, realizing he’s found himself back at the royal gardens. Xiao Zhan takes a moment to send the maze a wistful gaze before turning around to pout at the fox’s tiny, cackling face. “What are you gonna do with that mask? It won’t fit you.”
The fox tilts its head, letting out an inquiring squeal before dashing forward to run circles around Xiao Zhan’s feet.
Xiao Zhan laughs despite himself, half-heartedly leaning down to try and catch the fox. “Okay, okay, I’ll play with you.” It’s not like he’s got anything better to do.
The fox heads deeper into the gardens, Xiao Zhan’s mask still secured in its mouth. He obliges it with a chase, laughing for every time the creature manages to wiggle out of his hold. The grass is dewy and cold beneath his knees but Xiao Zhan doesn’t mind, not when the fox noses at him warmly whenever Xiao Zhan falls to the ground.
“Gotcha!” It’s his turn to cackle, carrying the fox up above his head when he finally traps it in his arms while the fox had been checking on him. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm?” He snuggles into its soft fur, scratching at its belly as the fox wiggles and squeaks happily. His mask is nowhere to be found.
“Uh, hello?”
Xiao Zhan freezes, setting his fox down on the ground and gesturing for it to stay quiet. It runs inside the thick bushes without another sound.
“Are you lost?” The prince wants to know.
He removes his outer robe and throws it over his head. Maybe Yibo would find him too strange this way and leave him be.
“I’m fine, your highness. Please return inside, it is cold.”
Yibo is silent for half a beat and then he says, “Stranger.”
Xiao Zhan squeezes his eyes against his terrible luck. He’d almost made it through the whole night without being found.
“My prince.” He bows, careful not to let the robe fall off his head. Xiao Zhan can’t actually see anything from behind the thick fabric but he hopes he’s facing Yibo’s general direction at least.
“Why do you… wear a robe over your head?”
He grapples for a believable excuse. “…the fastest way to warm up is to warm your head first, your highness.”
“Please let me escort you back inside,” Yibo sounds earnest, like he’s actually worried about Xiao Zhan’s safety. Xiao Zhan can’t bring himself to tell him that he’s actually plenty warm from playing with the royal family’s cute little fox. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Oh no, I’ll be fine, be on your way.”
Leaves rustle from somewhere ahead of him, alerting Xiao Zhan that the prince has advanced closer. He steps away in tandem, blindly shuffling backwards when Yibo doesn’t make a move to stop.
He hears the prince gasp, “Watch your step!”
But the warning came just a tad too late.
With a yell, Xiao Zhan’s foot gets caught at the edge of the garden lake and he drops into the water, flailing. The temperature is freezing as he sinks deeper from the force of his fall. Xiao Zhan hadn't even known it possible to experience such a violent shiver underwater but he finds his muscles locking up from the cold, and he hopes that the surface isn’t too far to swim up to once he gets his limbs under control.
There’s a muffled sound from above and then arms are wrapping around him, tugging up until Xiao Zhan breathes in sweet, sweet oxygen, coughing a little once he fully breaks the surface.
“Thank you.” He doesn’t care that he’s clutching at Yibo’s shoulders like a lifeline. In fact, Xiao Zhan wraps his arms around him in a proper hug, tugging the prince closer. “Thank you.”
“Always,” Yibo says it like a promise. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, are you okay?” Xiao Zhan thinks Yibo is also trembling from the cold, although he’s doing a much better job of hiding the chattering teeth. He pulls away and cups both hands around Yibo’s cheeks, checking for injury. “You shouldn’t have jumped in!”
“What? Of course I did.”
“Come up, come up, we can’t have you dying of hypothermia at your own ball!” Xiao Zhan squirms, forcing his legs to swim on its own as he struggles to get out of Yibo’s grip.
That’s when a sudden warmth pours into Xiao Zhan’s body, making him gasp at the immediate relief of it. There’s a low whine from beside them and both men look over to see the fox with its paws dipped inside the lake, and the waters shimmer in response, glowing a deep amber from all around them.
Xiao Zhan’s heart slows its frantic beating now that the two of them are out of danger, and he laughs in delight when tiny bubbles of light start floating out of the water like twinkling stars, washing over them until it becomes all too easy to forget how dark the night gets.
It’s common knowledge that magic like this exists within the kingdom, but few are fortunate enough to witness it firsthand.
And here, under the light of the fox’s magic, Xiao Zhan glances down to see Yibo’s handsome face so close to his own, unobscured by his emerald mask.
Mask. Their masks are gone. Oh god.
Before the panic has a chance to settle in, Yibo removes one hand from his waist to caress the side of Xiao Zhan’s cheek, much like he’d done during his visit in the morning.
“I knew it,” the prince whispers, thumb sliding under the same shallow scratch before moving to brush so, so lightly over the mark under Xiao Zhan’s lip. “I knew it was you.”
Xiao Zhan can’t do much more than lean into his hand, his own fingers caressing the sides of his prince’s jaw. Yibo looks ethereal bathed in the glow of the lights, every inch of him truly befitting that of a royal prince.
“Yibo…” The name slips out on accident, Xiao Zhan’s defences lowered by the warm embrace of the lake, by the magic surrounding them, by the gentleness of Yibo’s smile.
“Yes.” Yibo has shortened the distance between them and butterflies flutter sweetly inside Xiao Zhan’s stomach. The books talk about first kisses so grandly, as if it’s a whole other magic of its own, and he wonders if this is what every prelude feels like — if his heart is supposed to tremble with ardour, if being breathless is a symptom of things lining up in their favour.
Above them, the bell chimes midnight, and Xiao Zhan wakes from his daze.
Using his hands on the prince’s shoulders, he shoves down just hard enough for Yibo to sink up to his head, letting go of his grip on Xiao Zhan in shock.
Xiao Zhan is able to wade out of the lake now that the temperature’s been altered, but he shivers with renewed vengeance when the cool air hits his damp clothes. Getting out is the easy part — now he has to survive the freezing walk back to his family’s carriage.
“What the fuck,” Yibo sputters once he recovers, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.
“I’m sorry,” Xiao Zhan says, regret filling him in such abundance that actual tears spring up his eyes.
“Hold on, don’t leave, please, I—” the prince pauses and Xiao Zhan turns back to the amusing image of the fox nipping and tugging Yibo back into the water every time he attempts to come up. “A-Ying!” Yibo scolds, but the fox continues to pester him.
Xiao Zhan assumes the creature is trying to protect the prince from the cold. He throws a grateful glance towards their magical little friend before heading off, ignoring Yibo’s cries.
“What happened?” Father is the first to rush towards him, and Xiao Zhan gratefully accepts the dry outer robe thrown over his shoulders.
“I f-fell,” he stutters past chattering teeth, sheepish smile at the ready. His sisters stick by him like glue, offering their warmth, and mother fusses over his hair, muttering about soup and a hot bath once they get home.
“Father?” Xiao Hui calls out, and Xiao Zhan turns around to see their father looking out into the garden where Xiao Zhan had come from, watching as two guards and a bundled prince make their way to the castle’s back entrance. The shadowed figures are too small to make out; Xiao Zhan wouldn’t have known the prince was with them had he not just been in the garden with him.
However, father appears to be able to tell just the same, as he turns around with a grave expression, eyes trained on Xiao Zhan.
Xiao Zhan awaits a scolding, holding his breath for the untimely revealing of his secret, but father only pats his head with a warm hand and asks if he’s alright.
In the wake of the ball, the kingdom seems to be collectively holding its breath, waiting for the prince to make his move on whoever has caught his attention. It would be instant gossip material, surely, if Yibo steps foot inside any of the cities outside the royal gates.
It takes three days for the messenger to come knocking on the Xiao family door.
Xiao Zhan had been the only one within earshot at the time and is, once again, taken by the urge to slam it shut in the face of the man behind it. But the messenger is innocent and doesn’t deserve such a treatment.
So he simply refuses the prince’s courting gifts and sends the messenger well on his way.
Father doesn’t comment on it when he finds out but mother stares at him in shock, interrogating him in hushed whispers. Xiao Ya is in her room for a nap while Xiao Hui is out visiting with a friend.
“When did the prince express his intentions?” mother asks, sitting with him as he lackadaisically attempts to start a new painting.
“The first day.” He adopts as blasé a tone as he can manage, mixing a blob of green paint on his palette; he just can’t get the correct shade somehow.
“Oh, Zhanzhan.” She strokes his unbound hair aside, seeing right through him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
He laughs incredulously. “What would I say? Hi jiejie, hi meimei, Prince Wang Yibo asked me to be his first dance for the night and wouldn’t let go afterwards! Imagine that, haha, so how’s the allergy going? Yes, that conversation would have gone over well.”
“The prince asked you to be his first dance?” Xiao Ya, still wrapped in blankets, stands behind them with her jaws slack.
Xiao Zhan drops his paintbrush and plants his face in between green-stained hands.
Nobody mentions a word of it when Xiao Hui arrives home and Xiao Zhan thinks that’s the end of it. He’ll content himself with daydreams and vague paintings of mazes and lakes and foxes until his heart stops beating so strongly at each thought.
But the next day comes with a bigger surprise.
“Don’t shut the door on me,” Yibo tells him the moment Xiao Zhan answers his knocks.
So naturally, Xiao Zhan shuts the door on him.
Xiao Ya is positively screeching behind him. “Xiao Zhan!” Her yelling could bring the entire house down. “What are you doing!”
“I don’t— I don’t—” He leans back against the door, eyes shifting between both siblings.
“What’s going on?” Xiao Hui neatly marks her place in her book before dropping it on the table. “Gege? Why’s the prince at the door?”
Xiao Zhan swallows, stomach swirling unpleasantly. “Xiao Hui…”
“Prince Yibo sent courting gifts for Zhanzhan,” Xiao Ya says what Xiao Zhan couldn’t, not bothering to sugarcoat the facts.
“I refused!” he hurries to add, watching the bewildered look spread across Xiao Hui’s features. Xiao Zhan steps away from the door, wanting to comfort his little sister but unsure of his welcome. “I would never do that to you, meimei.”
“Oh.” Xiao Hui moves towards the window, taking a small peek behind the curtain to presumably watch whatever Yibo is doing outside — if he’s still there, that is. “Oh.” Her hand goes up to her mouth, eyes widening at what she sees. “Gege, are you sure you want to refuse?”
The ringing white noise in Xiao Zhan’s ears stop. Xiao Ya’s deep, indignant breathing stops. Mother’s fiddling in the kitchen stops. He doesn’t know what father is doing but he also probably stops. Heck, even the wind outside stops its howling. “Huh?”
“The prince is kneeling.”
“He’s what now?” Xiao Zhan makes to yank the door open before he remembers himself and sheepishly walks his way to Xiao Hui instead. “I won’t do anything that’ll hurt you, Xiao Hui.”
“It’s not like I was in love with him.” Xiao Hui giggles but Xiao Zhan can see the tears in her eyes from this distance. “It’s okay, gege, really! I mean, I’d still be a princess by association even if you’re the one to marry.”
He remains unconvinced. “You’re crying.”
“I just feel a lot of things, okay? But I’ll get over it.” Xiao Hui thunks him on the chest. “Who do you think I am, huh? I’m the Jewel of The East! This is nothing.” She smiles, roughly wiping at her eyes. “If you love him, please don’t let me cause the two of you misery.”
Xiao Zhan hugs her, squeezing so tight that she squeals for him to let her go. He feels a huge burden unload itself from his shoulder and Xiao Zhan has to laugh, feeling lighter than ever. He thinks he never stood a chance at resisting Yibo for too long, but it's good to know that he wouldn't lose a sister for this.
“Now go get your prince! It can’t be good for his knees to stay like that!” Xiao Ya claps both hands together, watching everything unfold with a giddy glint in her eyes.
And Xiao Zhan nods, excitement brewing as he rushes for the door.
He’s really doing this.
He’s going to go out there, chide the prince for lowering himself so unnecessarily, and then he will tell Wang Yibo that they will marry, and they’ll get to live their happily ever aft—
“Your brother was correct to refuse,” father says, grabbing hold of the door handle before Xiao Zhan has the chance to reach for it. “I will have none of my children involve themselves with the business of royalty.”
Xiao Zhan is sure that something inside of him has been cursed to turn into quicksand — how else could he explain the sinking feeling in his chest? Has he been tiptoeing around the wrong family member all along?
“Father…”
“You do not lack in offers, Xiao Zhan.” He raises his voice, speaking over his children’s protests. “There will be better prospects.”
The door opens then, and father steps out to greet the prince, who really has been kneeling on the cold stone ground all this time.
But Yibo’s eyes are determined, looking up at Xiao Zhan’s father like this battle is his to win. In his hands is the bundle of baby’s breath Xiao Zhan had found in the maze, glowing just as bright. “Uncle.”
“Your highness.”
“You’re wrong,” Yibo says without preamble. “There will be none better than me.”
Xiao Zhan has to smile at the blunt declaration.
“You are a good man, my prince,” father responds, unmoved. “And you will be a great king someday, but you are not the one for my son.”
Yibo’s hands are clenched in tight fists on his lap. “I will take care of him, uncle, you know me.”
“Take care of him?” Father scoffs. “Yes, I do know you. You staged a coup against a cohort of visiting royals because you didn’t like the way the heir had spoken to your fox and you threw a party when the man had ran home crying! Is this behaviour from someone who could take care of another person?”
Xiao Zhan raises a brow, notably impressed. This knowledge only serves to make the prince even more attractive in his eyes.
Yibo falters, glancing to the side as if worried for Xiao Zhan’s reaction. “Okay, yes, that was slightly immature of me but it was in the past! I’m a changed man!”
Father is fuming, waving around the tuft of green onion he’s clutching in one hand. “That was last year, Wang Yibo!”
“Stop it,” Xiao Zhan cuts in, bracing himself before barrelling past the door. Without thinking too much of it, he drops down and sits himself on Yibo’s lap, staring insolently up at his father. “Oh no, this is indecent. I must marry him now.”
The following silence is broken only by Xiao Hui’s poorly hidden snort.
Yibo’s arms are spread wide on the sides, his ingrained princely manners likely telling him to keep as much of limbs away from touching Xiao Zhan, holding back despite the shocked grin pulling at his lips.
“Xiao Zhan,” Yibo tests the name out with reverence. “How are you feeling? You didn’t get sick from the lake, did you?”
Fondness thumps a hard rhythm behind his ribcage. His Royal Highness needs to shut up before Xiao Zhan starts sobbing on the spot.
“I’m fine. Are you alright?” He twists in Yibo’s lap, settling in sideways so that he can touch their foreheads together to check for the prince’s temperature. It’s a little warm. “Did you just recover from being sick?! Why would you come here, you—”
“Trust me,” Yibo interrupts, eyes stuck on Xiao Zhan. “It’s not sickness.”
“Xiao Zhan! You get back here this instant!” Oh right. Father is still behind him.
Xiao Zhan shakes his head stubbornly, grabbing the small clutch of flowers from Yibo’s hand. “I’ve accepted his gift!” He raises his arm and waves the flowers around before pulling it back protectively to his chest when father looks two seconds away from lunging forward and eating it.
“Husband.” His saviour comes in the form of mother, who’s probably had enough of the ruckus they’re causing at the door. They’re lucky the Xiao estate is large enough to be fenced in, tucked away from public view, or the image they make would certainly cause a great scandal. “Why don’t we move this discussion inside.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.
So they all head back inside, Xiao Zhan awkwardly shuffling off the prince’s lap and ducking his head when Yibo stares at him through the entire process.
“I’m sorry,” he says, bending to brush the dirt off Yibo’s knees only to be stopped by a pair of big, warm hands. “I must’ve been heavy.”
“No, of course not.” Yibo leans down, placing a quick kiss to the back of Xiao Zhan’s hand. “I should thank you, I enjoyed that.”
Ignoring the burning heat creeping up his cheeks, Xiao Zhan sticks his tongue out at the laughing prince.
Xiao Zhan sits at the edge of the fountain in the royal gardens, bundled up against the winter’s unforgiving ire. The waters beside him glow a familiar amber from the fox’s kind attempt to provide him some warmth.
That is, before the creature decided to pick on Xiao Ya and lead her into a wild goose chase inside the maze. He can still hear Xiao Ya’s yelling for the fox to return her hat.
“Good afternoon, stranger.”
Yibo steps into view, a tray of hot tea and three cups balanced in between two hands.
“My prince.” Xiao Zhan rises only to offer a courteous bow.
It’s Xiao Zhan’s first visit at the palace since their courting started. Father still needs to be coaxed into accepting it, but he’s at least stopped recounting the disastrous stunts Yibo has pulled off over the years he’s watched over the prince. It’s progress.
He feels extremely nervous about being presented to the king and queen as their future son-in-law, but stronger than that is his desire to see Wang Yibo in his natural state. He’s long wondered how the prince acts in his own home without the stiff pretences that come with hosting a public ball.
“Come sit, I’ll pour the tea.” Xiao Zhan tugs Yibo beside him, removing his gloves so he could fully feel the heat emanating from the teapot. “A-Ying turned the fountain into a fireplace the moment he saw me.”
Yibo snickers. “He’ll probably think you’re in a permanent state of being cold for the next couple of months.”
“I mean, he’s not wrong.” Xiao Zhan can’t wipe the smile off his face, leaning towards Yibo to pour tea into his cup first.
There’s a soft press of lips on his forehead, and Xiao Zhan has to focus really hard lest his fingers slip and the piping hot tea goes pouring all over their laps. He presses a thumb at the top of the teapot and looks up to see the satisfied smirk on his prince’s lips.
“Where’s our chaperone?” Yibo asks, taking the pot from Xiao Zhan’s hands and placing it back on the tray.
“In the maze. A-Ying stole her hat.”
“The rules state that a courting couple cannot be left alone.” Yibo places the tray on his other side so that it’s no longer between them before drinking the tea Xiao Zhan had poured into his cup in one shot.
Xiao Zhan smiles, watching Yibo wince when the tea predictably burns his tongue. “What else do the rules say?”
“That we cannot kiss until our engagement has been legally finalized.”
“And your highness will adhere to such stupid rules?” The butterflies are back in his stomach and Xiao Zhan welcomes their wild fluttering. Yibo places the teacup behind him with a clink, leaning into Xiao Zhan’s space.
“Of course not,” Yibo says, “this prince is very spoiled.”
“I can see that.”
They pause for a length of breath and Xiao Zhan can almost hear the phantom chiming of the bell striking midnight. The first thing he’ll request for after they marry, he thinks, is to remove that damned bell from the tower so that it may never interrupt them again.
“Beautiful stranger I can’t stop thinking about, would you allow me the honour of stealing a little kiss?”
Xiao Zhan brings his hands up to cup the sides of Yibo’s neck, sighing at the feel of warm skin. “It’s not stealing if I give it, your highness.” Their noses touch at this proximity and Xiao Zhan giggles at the foreign sensation. “My prince,” he whispers into the tiny space between them, “my Yibo.”
The first touch of their lips brings exquisite warmth from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Yibo doesn’t pull his punches so to speak — he dives into the kiss whole-heartedly, hands coming around Xiao Zhan’s waist and tilting forward until Xiao Zhan is precariously balanced above the glowing water.
Xiao Zhan loops his arms around Yibo’s neck, using what leverage he has to push in closer, as if the distance between them isn’t already nonexistent. He feels that they simply can’t ever be close enough.
They pant into each other’s mouths as they separate for breath, but Xiao Zhan doesn’t get to open his eyes before Yibo moves back in to devour him, lifting up on one knee for a better angle. The fountain rushes a warning right by Xiao Zhan’s ear but he ignores it, fists clenching on the back of Yibo’s collars and tugging at him.
Yibo obliges, shuffling in as close as the space allows — what he forgets to account for is how narrow the edge of the fountain is. His knee slips between one slide and the other and the prince lets out a surprised oof as he’s forced to pull away, arms windmilling in a bid for balance.
“Yibo!” Xiao Zhan gasps, wrapping his arms around Yibo’s waist in an attempt to help, but it only causes him to fall into the fountain with the prince.
They sit up coughing and giggling, Xiao Zhan sitting in the space between Yibo’s loosely crossed legs. “I think we nailed it,” Yibo says, wiping water off his eyes.
Xiao Zhan laughs at him, flapping his sleeves so that water sprays everywhere. It ignites Yibo’s playful wrath and Xiao Zhan’s laughter turn to yelps when Yibo traps him in his arms and mercilessly splashes water in his face.
He realizes that the books are right.
First kisses may just be a whole other magic of their own.