Chapter Text
“Are you ready?” Dahyun whispers, almost inaudible over the loud chatter booming from one end of the hall to the next. It’s full of life and echoing laughter but more importantly than that, it’s full of every member of the various Kim and Han dynasty branches, a room full of people Jisung needs to impress. He’s sweating just thinking about it. Jisung squeezes Dahyun’s hand underneath the table, his mouth twitching into a nervous smile. “Not in the slightest.”
The ruckus comes to an uncoordinated and reluctant halt as Jisung stands, flattening his suit with his hands before shakily picking up a glass of champagne, clearing his throat, and tapping the rim with a fork. The sound rings in a now quiet room, all eyes glued on the prince. Don’t look at your dad, he reminds himself immediately before turning his head towards the head of the table where the king sits, the threatening look on his face no different than it is any other time Jisung’s done something without permission. There’s no doubt he’ll need a shower after this.
"My apologies for holding up the meal,” he starts just as a barrage of maids infiltrate the hall to place plates of food and wine bottles in front of the attendees. “I’ll try not to take too long. I’d just like to thank you all for being here and allowing our families to meet, for otherwise, I may have never met the wonderful woman sitting next to me,” he says, gesturing to Dahyun. She smiles fondly at him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and nodding at Jisung, signaling him to continue. He looks up once more as he proceeds with the speech.
“So, a toast-” He says, raising his glass proudly. Despite the confused mummers and uncertain glances being exchanged down the hall, all guests at this dinner ready their glasses, eagerly watching Jisung as they await his follow up. “-to my beautiful soon to be wife.”
Before Jisung’s even had time to sit back down the hall has erupted into a sea of scattered cheers and applause. He grins as Dahyun snakes her arms around his bicep, both of them giggling like children as they briefly glance at each other. Within a few moments the feast has begun, chatter filling the hall just as it did twenty minutes ago. This time, though, it’s busier. It’ll take no longer than a few hours for rumours to start spreading. Jisung wouldn’t be surprised if his sudden engagement was already the town’s gossip. No, it’s definitely national news by now, those maids travel quickly and their mouths travel quicker. Soon enough it’ll surely be a nightmare to venture outside. But right now, he doesn't care.
All Jisung cares about right now is the fact he’s once again managed to fool an entire kingdom into believing that he’s attracted to women.
“Oh my god, they’re so fucking dumb,” Dahyun wheezes as they slip out of the hall together and advance towards some quiet corner. Jisung attempts to shush her, but to no avail. “They’ll hear you! Are you trying to blow our cover already?”
“Calm down, Ji. What’s the worst anyone could do? Congratulate me on my engagement?” She snorts, and Jisung can’t stifle his own laughter a moment longer. They’re clutching onto each other, Dahyun’s arms still wrapped around Jisung as he leads them outside, as far away from the other royals as they can get. “God, we’re geniuses. I think I’m the most incredible person alive.”
Jisung scoffs. “Alright, I’m the one who had to give a speech, I deserve that credit.”
“Uh, a speech that I scripted, thank you very much,” she retorts, letting her arms fall back down by her side once she’s sure they’re both out of sight. “Typical. The straight man once again takes credit for the work of his trophy wife, I expect nothing better.” Dahyun’s dramatic sigh turns to an even more dramatic yelp as Jisung nudges her in the side with his elbow. “That’s no way to treat your fiance!”
“Huh, I think I finally understand why my dad hated his wife so much,” Jisung says as he sits himself cross legged on the grass, picking a flower. “You love me,” she smiles, sitting next to him. Jisung gently pushes the flower behind her ear, pulling at it a little to make sure it stays. “Seriously, though, good job.”
“No, you did all the hard work,” Jisung mutters, leaning back on his hands. Dahyun grins. “I know. Just thought I’d be nice as a thank you for not pissing yourself immediately. Ah, the joys of marriage!”
Jisung huffs out a laugh. “So, when are you officially moving in?” He asks after a few seconds of silence, to which Dahyun just shrugs. “Not sure yet. I still need to convince Minho and Chaeyoung to come with me.”
“Min...I’m sorry, who?” He asks, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
“Minho and Chaeyoung! Come on, I’m sure I’ve mentioned them at least once, haven’t I?”
“Maybe,” he says, sounding equally as (if not more) confused as he did before Dahyun last spoke. “I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.” Dahyun pouts, leaning forward to pinch his arm. She can’t help but smile a little when he yelps. “Anyway, Chaeyoung’s a baker and Minho’s one of my general servants, they’re cool! I think they’d like you.” The smile on Dahyun’s face fades as soon as she finishes speaking, causing Jisung to tilt his head in questioning. “Well, maybe. Nevermind.”
“Nevermind?”
“Forget I mentioned it,” she says with a slight laugh, looking around nervously. “So, how are y-”
“Dahyun,” Jisung starts, and if she didn’t regret bringing it up before, she surely does now. “Why wouldn’t they like me?”
With a hearty sigh, Dahyun rests her chin against her hand. “Chaeyoung would! Minho, though…” She trails off to giggle and looks Jisung dead in the eyes. “Imagine me, but a, uh, a feisty little cat dude.”
“He sounds wonderful,” Jisung says quietly. “If he’s anything like you I’m sure we’d get along great!”
“No, no. Not even a little. Basically the only thing we have in common is that we hate men.” Jisung huffs out a laugh at this. “Is he..?” Jisung relaxes his wrist.
“Big time.”
For a second, Jisung is happy, overjoyed, even. He hasn’t talked to someone like him in only God knows how long. Then he remembers how Dahyun introduced him, and he frowns. “Wait, you really don’t think he’ll like me?” He speaks with so much hope in his voice that she almost feels bad for him. Dahyun shakes her head. “Nope. It’s nothing personal, though!” Then, she sighs. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Your ego is destroyed, isn’t it?.”
Jisung forces out an unbothered laugh. “Why would it hurt my ego? I don’t even know who you’re talking about. He probably sucks. I don’t care about the opinion of someone I don’t know, that’s stupid, why would I care? Especially someone who, presumably, sucks. Does it seem like I’m bothered? Because I’m not. And I don’t care, by the way. Just in case you thought I did. I don’t.”
Jisung, as he’s unintentionally made very clear, does care. A lot. “Jisung,” Dahyun sighs, massaging his shoulders in a futile attempt to relax him. “Just… Don’t pay attention when he’s mean to you, alright? Again, he’s like a cat. He gets nervous around new people and bites them to assert his dominance. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
He pouts, slouching in defeat. As much as Jisung wants to lay face first down on the grass for two hours and not speak to anyone, the sound of approaching footsteps forces him to straighten up, plastering a smile back onto his face and looking at Dahyun as if she’s not his mortal enemy. “Your Highness!” A voice calls from a few feet away. Jisung looks up to see a knight jogging towards them, his armour clanking noisily as he does so. Even with a helmet covering his face, Jisung can tell who it is. “Hey, Chan,” he says, flashing him a tiny smile. Chan pulls the helmet of and sighs in relief, shaking his head like a dog fresh out of the ocean.
“God, it’s hot in that,” he pants under his breath, and Jisung mentally curses himself for not looking away. Dahyun winks at him. Jisung refuses to react, instead smiling at Chan, his gaze friendly as always. “Shall we talk in private?”
“Oh, I’m actually here for both of you! There’s a carriage arriving soon that the king needs you to greet. Follow me?” Chan says, fluffing his hair idly as he speaks. Jisung hums a note of confusion. “That doesn’t seem right,” Jisung mumbles. From beside him he can hear Dahyun giggle. She sprawls her hand out on Jisung’s bicep once more and moves closer to him. He looks at her with a baffled expression on his face. “Do you know what this is about?”
“Mhm, I can guess. Lead the way, Channie!”
And so, he does. Chan walks at a reasonable speed a few feet ahead of Dahyun and Jisung and without another word they follow him. Physically, Jisung is outside in the palace garden, the same one he‘s taken walks in every other day since he was a child, but mentally? He’s somewhere else. Somewhere far, far from here. He would be in Dahyun’s castle making pleasant small talk with the servant, but another to the devastating blow he received from her moments earlier, that doesn’t seem all too plausible. Jisung stares straight ahead.
He considers asking for her advice on becoming more likable, but he knows Dahyun, and regardless of whether or not it’s on purpose her advice is always terrible. Especially when it comes to men. For two reasons, actually. The first is obvious; she’s not attracted to them and, aside from Jisung and maybe a few of the knights, she doesn’t care to understand how they work. “Boys are so easy, Ji,” she’s told him on numerous occasions. And in a way, perhaps she’s right. But maybe Dahyun is just better at reading people than he is. Either way, he knows it’s not personal.
The second reason, however, is. Dahyun’s terrible advice regarding men stems not only from the fact she simply doesn’t care but from the fact Jisung is equally as terrible at taking it. Why? Because, he’s a pussy, of course. Jisung’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a coward. Okay, well, he kind of is, but that’s besides the point. The point is that women can easily flirt with each other and pass it off as nothing, but it’s different with men. Men can’t braid each other’s hair and tell each other they look cute in certain colours, because when a man calls another man cute, the entire world seems to hear it.
Jisung stares at Chan’s back and thinks about when he was last in love. He thinks about how he’d stay up to the most egregious hours, writing letters, pressing flowers into the envelopes, then stuffing them into a box underneath his bed and never sending them. After a few weeks of writing he lost count. The box was overflowing, and one evening when Dahyun sat in Jisung’s room painting his nails with clear polish, she noticed ink stains and paper on the floor.
Apparently, when Dahyun gave him the advice to write about how he feels, she forgot to tell him what to do with his poetry. She wanted him to send them. Jisung couldn’t laugh at the suggestion, as he knew sending it was out of the question. Jisung knew his love couldn’t be reciprocated. More than that, though, he couldn’t risk anyone finding out. So, he kept them hidden, although rather poorly.
And apparently, when you don’t efficiently hide your letters, people find them.
Jisung thinks about how the King reacted and decides to stop thinking about love.
“Jisung,” Dahyun whispers, and Jisung nods. “Are you still upset that I said Minho won’t like you?”
Jisung scoffs. “What? Me, upset? No, not even a little! Of course I’m not upset,” he says, laughing politely. Dahyun slides her hand down his arm and holds Jisung’s hand instead. “Good. It’s not worth-”
“But I’m gonna prove you wrong,” he says. Dahyun stops walking. “No, you aren’t.”
Upon realizing the footsteps have stopped, Chan turns around. “Is there a problem?”
“Ah, sorry, Chan. My fiancé is just causing problems on purpose. You know what he’s like,” she sighs, and Chan giggles. Jisung pouts. “Actually-”
Dahyun squeezes his hand, and Jisung stops speaking to whine. “Can’t live with him, can’t live without him!” She forces a polite laugh through gritted teeth as Jisung squirms, desperately trying to free himself from Dahyun’s ever-tightening grasp. Chan shakes his head, still laughing a little. “Can you two try not to kill each other for another few minutes? I mean, take your time, but the King doesn’t like waiting.”
“Sorry, Chan,” Dahyun and Jisung mumble in unison, and Chan turns around. “It’s okay. Ready to keep going?”
It only takes them a few minutes to reach the gates, but Jisung feels like he’s been walking for days. “Jisung,” Dahyun whispers, anger in her voice. “Yes, honey?”
“Don’t ‘honey’ me, you bastard. What do you mean you’re gonna prove me wrong?”
“Oh, you know,” Jisung says. Dahyun waits for him to say more as they finally reach the gates, but to no avail. Jisung’s finished talking. “No, actually, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“Well,” he starts, leaning his face a little closer to Dahyun’s ear so no one but them can hear. Along with a few miscellaneous members of staff, the King stands parallel to him and Dahyun, looking forward towards the large metal gate, impatiently awaiting the moment it’ll open. Jisung stares straight ahead. Years of experience have taught Jisung to never look at Dahyun whilst she’s angry. Many have tried, but few have survived. “I just mean I’m gonna prove you wrong.”
“If you don’t-”
“The gates are opening!” A maid announces, and Jisung sighs in relief as Dahyun lets go of his hand to prepare her applause. “I’m not done with you,” she whispers. Jisung smiles. Yes she is. He knows this because the minute the gates have opened and the carriage has rolled in, her expression has turned from faux to genuine joy as the door opens and she sees two people, presumably the same pair she mentioned earlier, make their way out.
“Chaeyoung!” she squeals, immediately enveloping her in a hug. The heels she wears allow her to tower over Chaeyoung, who looks a bit like a lost child. She’s taken aback at first, but after a moment hugs back, her cheek squishing against Dahyun’s chest. Jisung can’t help feeling good whenever he sees her grin. There’s something so infectious about it, and even though Jisung has no reason to feel happy upon the arrival of these strangers, he smiles too. Dahyun lets go of Chaeyoung and gestures to Jisung, who waves politely before moving to shake her hand. “Lovely to meet you,” he says, and she nods. “You too, Your Highness.”
Then, him.
Dahyun’s almost the same height as Minho in these heels, which only makes Jisung a little bit insecure as to his own stance. He straightens his posture and mentally reassures himself his personality will make up for it. Similarly to Chaeyoung, Minho looks slightly lost, and a little uninterested. Of course, he’s happy to see Dahyun. But everything else is just scenery he couldn’t care less for. “I didn’t think you’d come,” Dahyun whispers, and Minho smiles. Jisung curses himself for thinking it’s cute.
“Of course I came,” he says, pulling apart from the hug to look her in the eyes. Unlike Jisung, he actually has to look down to make eye contact with Dahyun. His voice is so soft, and he looks so sweet, Jisung can only assume Dahyun was overestimating him. This can’t be the same Minho that bites people, no way. Jisung sighs in relief as they part. However, when Dahyun gestures to Jisung’s outstretched hand, Minho doesn’t shake it.
No, Minho narrows his eyes and scoffs. Jisung lifts his hand and runs it through his hair as coolly as possible, attempting to play it off the rejection with a nervous laugh, still smiling at Minho. His life is over. There’s no coming back from this, Jisung thinks. Might as well jump into the river and-
“Still want to prove me wrong?” Dahyun whispers somewhat teasingly as Minho moves alongside Chaeyoung to greet the king. Jisung blinks. For a moment, he’s lost, no idea who or where he is nor why anyone is talking to him. “Why didn’t you warn me?” He mumbles. Dahyun groans. “You’re a nightmare, Han Jisung. Anything, are you feeling alright? You look kinda… Well, you look like you’re about to jump into a river.” Jisung laughs, and stares at the ground. Various royals and servants alike are conversing all around them, but all Jisung can focus on is his own incompetence. “You know me so well.”
“What else is a wife for?” She teases, pinching his cheek. Jisung doesn’t want to look up, but he does, and the weight on his shoulders becomes a little lighter at the sight of Dahyun’s smiling face. “Now stop being a baby and help me show the guests around. Unless, of course, you think Minho’ll like you more if you run away…”
Jisung beams at no one in particular and hooks his arm around Dahyun’s, turning towards the newcomers and bowing. Even if he fails as a son, a prince, and a person overall, at least Jisung can take comfort in one simple truth;
He’s a wonderful tour guide.