Work Text:
Baekhyun woke then, drenched in sweat and wrapped tightly in a blanket that sheltered him from the cool breeze that drafted in through the open window. His heart knocked against his chest. He thought it might burst. Letting out a shuddering breath, he curled in on himself and looked at the balcony outside.
It was empty. How lucky of him. There were no assassins tonight, only a clear night sky and a crescent moon above. He listened for sounds beyond his harsh pants, but couldn’t make out any more than the crickets that chirped their love songs. He was alone. The thought gave him as much comfort as it did fear. It brought him to sit up, raking fingers through damp hair.
Nightmares weren’t new to him. Not in the way that they should be. He was a prince, the third prince, not even the second or the crown. He wasn’t in line for the throne. He should have been ignored, left to live a life of royalty without all the dangers. He was a scholar, for Luna’s sake — not a general or an important political figure. His sister, too, had been nothing but a princess when the two of them went abroad for their studies. Yet, the moment they returned, so did the dangers of being royalty. They hadn’t done anything, but someone still wanted them dead. And they’d gotten their wish.
Half of their wish.
Baekhyun wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the headboard. Across from him, the large, oil painting of lilies hung forebodingly in the dark. That had been Seulgi’s favorite flower. She’d been fond of all plants, of course, and had studied herbology extensively in the academy, but she had favored the lily. They’re elegant, she explained to him once. They remind me of my duties as a princess. Did you know? They represent peace.
The memory was bitter now, as was the irony of it all. His sister’s favorite flower had been peace, yet she was brutally murdered for no reason other than her birth. If she hadn’t been royalty, could she have lived peacefully? Baekhyun wanted to tear the painting down. It reminded him of her too much. But that was the reason it stayed.
A sudden, sharp pain at his right temple tore his eyes from the painting. He cursed under his breath and held his head, digging his fingers into his skin. “Stop,” he mumbled. “Stop.”
It wouldn’t stop. Of course not. Perhaps he had done something wrong, antagonized Lady Luna in some way. His twin sister was dead and he was plagued with headaches and nightmares. But he had been pious. He had prayed the way he was told to since he was a child. He was agreeable and uninteresting, didn’t steal the spotlight from his brothers. He didn’t want the throne. He hadn’t done anything beyond what he was ordered to do. Neither had Seulgi. So why? Why was Luna punishing them?
He was still holding his head, still mumbling like some lunatic, when hands took his own.
“Your Highness. Your Highness, are you okay?”
That steady voice was familiar. Baekhyun shook his head.
“I’ll get your medicine.”
He was alone again. The pain had already dulled by the time his personal knight returned, carrying pills on a platter along with water and sweets. Baekhyun’s hands were in his lap as he watched his knight come to his bedside.
“Thank you,” Baekhyun said.
“Please take the candy, too. The medicine is bitter.”
“No need. You know I don’t like sweets.”
The medicine was indeed bitter, but Baekhyun took it without complaint. He no longer felt unlike himself. The cool breeze that came through the window cleared his mind. Still, an inexplicable discomfort curled in his stomach. It settled there, unwelcome.
He looked at the door. It was tightly shut, just the way he’d left it when he first fell asleep. Royalty was never alone. They were always surrounded by people, guards and maids and people of high standing. Baekhyun was used to a lack of privacy. Only at night was he left in the company of his own thoughts, with a closed door and no one to judge him with a critical eye. He enjoyed those moments of solitude. Still, ever since his sister’s death, he found he didn’t crave them the way he used to. No, he didn’t wish to be alone. He wished for something else.
“Do you need anything more, Your Highness? If you’re hungry, I can-”
“Kyungsoo.”
His knight froze in place. Yes, Baekhyun spoke his name for that very purpose: to rattle his knight’s careful demeanor. Royalty didn’t address those lower than them by their first names. It wasn’t becoming of them to suggest equality with their subjects. But Baekhyun knew Kyungsoo’s name. And Kyungsoo knew what his name meant, when it was Baekhyun who said it.
“... Would you like me to guard you in your room tonight?”
“Yes.”
Kyungsoo turned towards the painting but didn’t leave his side. Baekhyun lied down once more, with his back to the door, facing Kyungsoo. He closed his eyes and breathed out.
“Closer.”
His hand was out of his blanket, laid loosely on the sheets. He didn’t open his eyes. He only waited for Kyungsoo to obey him. After a moment, he felt Kyungsoo hold his hand gently, and his mind eased a bit. “Is this close enough, Your Highness?”
He wanted to say no. But no amount of proximity would be enough to quell the ache in his chest, so instead he made a sound of agreement and settled for this. He knew, at least, that Kyungsoo would not leave him. He wasn’t alone, no matter what the hole in his chest made him believe.
He thanked his knight in a quiet murmur and fell asleep.