Archive of Our Own ^beta

I.

Realistically, Beomgyu could never have predicted the way in which the intersection of his mundane, or perhaps even meaningless life, with that of Taehyun’s, would cause his entire purpose of living to drastically transform to such an irreversible juncture. Neither would he have known that the younger scholar would weave his way into Beomgyu’s daydreams with such apparent ease, and making a home out of his heart when nobody else could find a way to do the same. He had merely been a young prince, destined from his birth to take over the throne once he reached an appropriate age to command power and authority, but already far too jaded from his childhood having grown up within the confines of the palace walls. At that point in time, he had most likely been staring blankly at the walls, sulking at the prospect of another uninteresting day. Moments of his precious youth had, yet again, been fixed to an ordinary rigid routine that he so despised, but he was also physically unable to break out of.

But instead – Beomgyu remembers the first day that Taehyun had entered into his world view as if it had been the perfect spring morning. Beomgyu recalls sitting in his study, a private room that was situated a short distance away from his bedroom quarters and overlooked a garden that was so carefully curated to perfection by the palace servants, almost like what he was expected to become in the near future. The breeze that trailed in from the open windows tickled his cheeks playfully, and he watched wistfully as loose petals danced along to the rhythm of the wind, swirling and encircling above the parterre that carried an abundance of radiant flowers. The sight nearly heralded a romantic prelude to the possibility of a blossoming new relationship.

The door to his study slid open after a polite knock, and two individuals entered the room with their heads bowed – one of them, Beomgyu had known all his life, while the other was a completely fresh face that Beomgyu had never seen before amongst the palace staff. His personal royal guard, Yeonjun, was only a couple years older than him, and they were tight knit since they had been introduced to one another. Beomgyu saw him as the close elder brother that he would never have, or perhaps even the nearest thing to a genuine sibling relationship that was not laced with underlying jealousy, hostility and comparisons.

Yeonjun offered a small greeting before he sought to introduce the unknown boy to Beomgyu. “Your Excellency, this is Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun said slowly. “Starting from today, he will be your tutor.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, propping one of his legs up in a manner which was undoubtedly beyond the graceful etiquette expected of a member of royalty. Although he was the oldest out of all the princes in the palace, he had already built up quite the reputation for being notoriously awful at sitting still and studying to acquire knowledge for the sake of their entire nation.

“I don’t need a tutor! Tell Father that I will master my studies on my own,” Beomgyu protested, lying with blatant awareness that nobody would buy his promise. It was obvious that he had never been interested in academia, and was desperate to escape from the demands of higher authorities, especially since it was always forced upon him against his own free will. His entire life consisted of conforming to an idealised template that had been cast and moulded for him. It seemed like from the moment he had been born into this world, everything about him had been set in stone and planned with utmost detail, and he hated every second of it. But it seemed that, once again, no matter how hard he sought to struggle out of his cage, there was no escaping.

Yeonjun sighed, voice dropping to a low, pleading tone as if he was on his last legs, stuck between one higher authority and another stubborn, unmoving rock. “Your Excellency, you know very well that your father sought a tutor for you because all you have been doing for past years is playing, instead of studying for your princely duties.”

Beomgyu groaned upon hearing those ever-familiar words, eyes shifting to glower at his apparent tutor. The other boy had finally raised his head, and Beomgyu could finally make out his proper appearance. He looked small in stature, almost as if he was drowning underneath the palace robes that were draped over his body in waves of fabric. Yet, it contrasted against his large eyes that glistened under the natural sun light, daring well to make eye contact with the person of royal blood sitting in front of him. On the surface, the other boy seemed to embody a hint of eagerness to serve in the palace, setting an expectant and impressionable gaze onto Beomgyu. However, it was undeniable that one could see a spark of insight and intelligence swimming in the pools of his dark orbs, and that he bore a hidden level of astuteness that few could match up with.

Beomgyu nodded up at Taehyun. “You! How old are you?”

Taehyun bowed politely upon being spoken to. “I’m fifteen, Your Excellency.”

Beomgyu visibly reeled back in shock, whipping his head around to glare at Yeonjun. “What?! He’s a year younger than me?! Does Father really think that little of me?” He was mildly offended – yes, he had never bothered to put in any effort with furthering his studies, but to hire a younger individual to instruct him on his morals and knowledge… Beomgyu simply felt insulted, and his cheeks flared up, pink and warm.

Yeonjun waved his hands furiously to calm the raging flames that were brewing within the prince’s mind, observantly noticing Beomgyu’s tightening grip on his porcelain tea cup. “No, Your Excellency misunderstood his intentions,” he explained, gesturing to Taehyun who only looked gently amused at the exchange between them. “Scholar Kang here is one of the youngest individuals that passed the gwageo national examinations with flying colours, and now works in the Royal Library. His Majesty only thought that you would learn better from someone around your age.”

Beomgyu hummed expectantly at that realisation, trying to maintain a seemingly unphased exterior when in reality, he had been rather taken aback. Taehyun seemed like an enigma, full of endless surprises that never failed to pull the rug out from under Beomgyu’s feet. Much unlike himself, the new tutor had definitely proven himself worthy to be in the presence of nobility at a young age, let alone teach royalty of the proper ways to act and direct the kingdom when they eventually turned of age. He was uncertain if the two of them would get along behind closed doors, beyond the monitoring eyes of His Majesty.

Beomgyu recognised that perhaps both of them were far too different in mindset. The drive to study academia was undoubtedly far beyond his own desires of freedom and exploration, while those who were by nature at liberty to choose their own paths of life – people like Taehyun – consciously found interest in chaining themselves down to such a subject when their daily schedules didn’t ordinarily consist of being cornered into learning it.

“Or, would you prefer Scholar Bang to teach you again?” Yeonjun suggested quietly, knowing full well that it would ignite some unwarranted memories of a previous tutor who had bored Beomgyu to near-death while also completely expunging his free time.

Beomgyu relented, shuddering at the thought. “Fine, Taehyun can teach me,” he agreed, eyeing Taehyun once more, already plotting the best way to escape the younger boy’s sessions. Naivety coursed through his mind at the thought that Taehyun couldn’t possibly hold much power over him if Beomgyu sought to resist him, but that was yet another lesson that Beomgyu had yet to uncover for himself with the passage of time.

II.

After initial futile attempts at persuading Taehyun to let him off the hook or even trying to rope him into skipping lessons, it dawned upon a dismayed Beomgyu that Taehyun was not the easiest person to trick out of responsibilities. Beomgyu should have known that from the start, given that Taehyun was one of the youngest scholars that topped the historical rankings of all gwageo examinations, and he had also been constantly reminded of that fact – Yeonjun, worried for his education, would kindly remind him of Taehyun’s immense credentials, and even officials who would pass him by along the corridors seemed to always mention Taehyun and never failed to accompany his name with a string of praises that Beomgyu knew he would never hear about himself. The younger boy had reached unbeatable levels of recognition for his undeniable passionate about learning, studying, and writing anything that related to improving the reign of the kingdom; be it ethical, economic, or even political.

But it was impossible for Beomgyu to dislike Taehyun – not when his proficiencies were paired alongside his desirable character to produce, perhaps, the perfect attendant. The scholar was a mix of earnest, humble and genuine, clearly comprehending the impressive nature of his own knowledge and skills but never seeking to brag or overshadow others with his words, even to those who were not of a higher standing than him. He was always impressively patient with Beomgyu’s tardiness and consistent whiny complaints about his studies, while still managing to coax Beomgyu into falling in line without completely overstepping their hierarchical boundaries. It was impressive, to say the least, and Beomgyu was drawn to his interesting character as they spent their days soaking in each other’s undisturbed presence. Nobody in the palace had ever shown such a burning desire for self-development while having reached an unparalleled position like him – especially not Beomgyu himself.

Still, Taehyun was not completely uptight, and Beomgyu found that a subtle way of persuading him to delay the start of their intense lessons was to ask him about his life outside the palace, long before he had step foot in these grounds that Beomgyu had felt trapped in since his conception. Beyond the superficial need for Beomgyu to skive off his studies, he was strikingly keen with learning more about Taehyun’s upbringing in the village, as Beomgyu had always longed for that kind of life.

Born into a commoner’s family, Taehyun’s parents did not originally possess the financial capabilities to provide him with a proper education. Yet, this had never stopped Taehyun once he’d found an interest in studying and acquiring knowledge about the world around him. While his family background would undoubtedly have been insufficient to get him on the starting line in competing to clinch one of the spots within the scholarly ranks, Taehyun was close childhood friends with Kai, the son of a noble who also lived nearby. Whenever he spent time over at Kai’s home, he had been noticeably drawn to the many novels and handwritten scrolls that lined the bookshelves in their study. On seeing his raw talent for literature, Kai’s father had kindly put in a good word to the royal academy on behalf of Taehyun in hopes that he would form a good asset for their kingdom, and Taehyun had gratefully seized the opportunity to excel in what he had always desired since young.

With that background understanding, Beomgyu softened up, finding that Taehyun’s studious nature was not so perplexing after all. Given that he had been bestowed with such a chance that other commoners would rarely be exposed to, he would indubitably treasure his job with the greatest sincerity he could muster in order to pay back the raw compassion which Kai’s family had shown him from the start. However, Beomgyu still couldn’t find the energy to display the same degree of enthusiasm for learning about his strict curriculum.

On yet another ordinary day, both of them continued to be holed up in Beomgyu’s study with novels laid open on the polished wooden table. While Taehyun’s laser sharp gaze was solely trained on his own annotated copy of a book held before his face, Beomgyu’s woeful eyes were drifting to focus on anything other than the same book that was presented right in front of him, and they eventually settled on the view outside his window once more. When his mundane routine was consistently carried out in the same old room surrounded by the same walls, of which Beomgyu could probably picture the precise grain and texture by heart, the illusion of a prospect of escapism was the only thing that could capture the fascination and undeterred attention of the young prince.

Beomgyu whined, an ever-familiar sound that resonated within the empty space and silence between him and the scholar. He ran his hands through his hair roughly, completely mussing up the locks which his personal attendants had spent over an hour to style earlier in the morning. He jabbed a disconcerted finger at the novel on the table, the force of his motion crinkling the page and appropriately capturing Taehyun’s consideration, away from the words that he had apparently buried his mind in. 

“Why do we need to spend so much time reading these boring novels when we could be doing something so much more interesting?” Beomgyu lamented, contemplating about his day could have ideally proceeded. “I could be doing archery, or painting, or even horse riding…”

Taehyun cleared his throat with a low sound, before seeking to placate the incensed prince. “Well, Your Excellency, I was asked to explain the meaning of these novels to you…”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, then leaned across the desk with both his hands as a support, rapidly shrinking the gap between him and Taehyun as if to drive his suggestion across with further emphasis. “Let’s sneak out of here, Taehyun!” he proffered eagerly, as if he didn’t already know that Taehyun would, under no circumstances, have accepted any offers to shirk his duties. “What do you like to do in your free time?” Beomgyu probed further, taking the calculated risk in postponing their lesson with another forced conversation.

Taehyun’s eyes finally darted across the room, like he was fully sensitive to the fact that his answer would not be to Beomgyu’s liking. “I like to read…” he responded, voice waning at the end of his sentence.

“You do actually enjoy such a boring activity?!” Beomgyu sat back, enlightened. “Of course, no wonder you passed the gwageo examination at such a young age!”

Taehyun sought to defend his own hobbies with a strong sense of dissatisfaction. “I don’t find reading boring, Your Excellency. I do find it quite engaging and fun.”

Beomgyu gesticulated wildly at the novel that they – or, more like Taehyun alone – had been reading earlier for hours on end. For the past sixteen years, he had completely failed to see the charm or lure of any books that were prescribed to him. “What do you find fun about reading stories that teach us the same morals and lessons over and over again?” he questioned. “If it’s not that, it’s about some yucky romance classic,” Beomgyu recalled, cringing at the thought of an elderly scholar who had attempted to explain the inner workings of two young lovebirds to him. That man had completely missed the mark on how to tackle such volatile topics with a young boy who had yet to even reach an appropriate age of adolescence.

Taehyun hummed, a common precursor to an answer which he always seemed to have. It was impressive how prepared he appeared for these talks, all of which Beomgyu had assumed were rather spontaneous, since they deviated greatly from his much stricter tutoring plan. “I like how poetic romance classics are. There are so many ways to tell somebody that you adore them, apart from the usual ‘I love you’s. It is nice to be given such a personalised form of affection that is only meant for you.”

“Hmm…” Beomgyu mused. He could never have predicted from Taehyun’s façade alone that he was secretly a romantic. He grinned widely at the thought that he could render Taehyun flustered for once. “Then tell me, what would you tell someone if you wanted to stay with them for life?”

Exceeding his expectations once again, Taehyun didn’t seem embarrassed or overtly fazed by Beomgyu’s sudden inquisition. Instead, he bore a new expression of serious introspection, candidly pausing to ruminate about the question that was posed to him. Comfortable silence filled the room as Beomgyu waited for Taehyun to respond, forming one of the rare moments where he found himself to be quite patient.

“I don’t need to have you for myself, because you’re not mine to keep, but my purpose in life is complete if I can just keep watching you from afar. But I was born in the right dynasty if it meant that I could meet you,” Taehyun detailed slowly, eyes sparkling radiantly upon catching the light from the window next to him, and lips set in a gentle smile that revealed a set of sharp canines. His expression revealed it all – it was as if he had been cast away in dream-like imagination of how it would be like to meet his fated partner in the future.

The prince couldn’t help but stare. Maybe he was taken by the way the younger boy looked when pondering about the idea of love; maybe he was enamoured with the smile that rarely ever graced the scholar’s face when they spent time together; or, maybe he was just mesmerised with the entire being of Taehyun, a riveting combination of unrestrained passion and careful control. What would it be like if, apart from his studies, Taehyun displayed the same degree of unmistakable devotion towards something else… or even another person?

Beomgyu caught himself quickly, headspace swerving back to rationality. “Maybe Father was right…” he murmured. “You’re really good for someone younger than me…”

Taehyun smiled politely, but it felt different from his prior expression that harnessed pure, candid emotions. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

Although Beomgyu had thought that he would never muster up the impulse to use his privileges in granting special treatment towards others, he was overcome with a pulsing tug within his chest that he wanted to erase the barrier of hierarchy separating them – perhaps even eradicate the awkward tension that filled the space between their bodies.

“Drop the honorifics. Call me Beomgyu.”

Taehyun’s face morphed into a look of pure alarm, and he shook his head insistently. The hand gripping onto his novel had fallen to the floor, as if his world was fundamentally reorienting and reshaping itself from those simple words. “Your Excellency, I can’t possibly do that! That is just disrespectful– “

Beomgyu chose to cut him off before he protested any more. “I’m older than you, so you can listen to what I tell you to do.”

“But… I cannot. I am bound by my duty to you, and to the court,” Taehyun rationalised, and Beomgyu could almost see the dreaded scriptures that he had likely been indoctrinated under running through his mind, as if the words were now carved into his brain. “I will be defaming your name…”

Beomgyu wanted so deeply to rewrite the knowledge that Taehyun was treating like gospel. “Fine, call me hyung-nim.”

“But– “ Taehyun’s eyes were the widest they had ever been as he stared pleadingly at the prince.

Beomgyu waved a hand to dismiss his objections. “Just say it when we’re alone. Who else will know about this?” His eyes trained on the brim of Taehyun’s tea cup. “Anyway… I think I want to get to you know better this way.”

“I…” Taehyun was clearly at a loss for words, and though he visibly appeared to be caught in a hazy mental struggle, he finally relented. “Okay, hyung-nim.”

“That’s better!” Beomgyu beamed, cheeks dusted with a warm flush. His heart stirred like the words that spilled out of Taehyun’s lips had unconsciously awoken a sleeping dragon inside him. “Okay, where did we leave off?”

Taehyun was in disbelief that Beomgyu would have actively brought their long-forgotten lesson back on track. “I thought that Your Excelle– “

Beomgyu’s eyes shot up to meet his, and Taehyun hastened to recover. “I mean, I thought that hyung-nim wanted to sneak out.”

The prince let out a sincere laugh, then rested his head gently on his fist, arm propped casually on the pillow next to him. “Maybe another day. Right now, I think I wouldn’t mind hearing you explain another romance classic to me.”

III.

“Hyung-nim, are you paying attention?” Taehyun prodded, a slight edge to his voice as he set down his calligraphy brush on its holder. A significant period of time had passed since Taehyun had entered the palace to graciously take up the role of being his royal tutor. Beomgyu had somewhat fallen into step with their hectic daily study sessions far more cooperatively compared to the previous scholars who had attempted to coax him into learning. However, he couldn’t completely shake off his burning need to pursue a less rigid and constraining lifestyle. Taehyun’s presence undoubtedly made it slightly more bearable, but Beomgyu still yearned to be free from the shackles of his princely duties, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

Beomgyu stretched out across his desk like a lounging cat. “Ugh, Taehyun-ah, I’m so tired. We’ve been doing this for the past three hours. Let me take a break for a while, please,” he begged, voice trilling towards the end of his plea.

Surprisingly, Taehyun gave his approval. “You’ve been getting most of them right for a while, so you do deserve to rest,” he admitted.

“Yes!” Beomgyu cheered. He knew that he was acting like a petulant, bratty child instead of the next heir to the dynasty’s throne, but he revelled in the fact that he felt comfortable enough to display his spoiled side around Taehyun. No fronts needed to be put up when he was faced with the younger scholar.

“Hasn’t it already been a whole year since you’ve come here?” Beomgyu said, reminiscing. “Let’s celebrate that by going out to do something special.” When both of them took breaks, they often spent their time walking around the palace gardens and chatting, but Beomgyu had become bored by the sight and of being continuously trapped within the palace walls. Having strolled through the same, unchanging stone path all his life, he was convinced that he had already memorised the look of every flower that was planted there.

“Then, what do you want to do, hyung-nim?” Taehyun asked simply, but it was an question that had never been posed to Beomgyu before. It felt utterly refreshing.

Latching onto his temporary euphoria, Beomgyu suggested gleefully, “Let’s go down to your village and explore. I’ve never been allowed to visit, and I want to know how you, and the rest of the common folk, lived.”

A flash of hesitance shrouded Taehyun’s look. “Will His Majesty agree to this…?”

Beomgyu sighed indignantly, rolling his eyes as he regularly did at the mention of his father. “Who ever said that we need to ask the King for permission? It would take at least two working days for him to give me a decent response, especially when he finds the Court and his paperwork far more intriguing than my requests… let’s just go and be back before dinner time.”

“We should probably– “ the rule-abiding scholar started again.

“Come on, Taehyun,” Beomgyu huffed.

“Alright, hyung-nim…” Taehyun finally complied, a smile gracing his face.

As members of the royal family often did when they had to leave the palace, Beomgyu changed out of his silk robes that would have been an immediate giveaway that he was likely a prince. He and Taehyun both donned hanboks that were still made of decently priced cloth, these ambiguously indicating that they were of some higher nobility or from some aristocracy background. They neatly tucked their topknots under gats, a black traditional hat that had become part and parcel of formal attire for those with higher social standings. With such a disguise, both of them slipped out of the palace gates and made their way down to the village by foot.

Taehyun had cautioned Beomgyu that it may be a long walk, but the prince was not bothered by that. Instead, he was secretly beside himself with joy with the very fact that he was finally out of the palace for the first time in many years. As they strolled towards the village, Beomgyu took in the view of an unfamiliar beaten path with newfound appreciation swirling in his heart, taking in a deep breath of air in exhilaration. He wasn’t sure if there was a placebo effect occurring, but the air outside the stuffy brick compounds felt far fresher than he had ever experienced before. Everything he felt was so invigorating – the uneven and rocky roads, much unlike the smoothened paths he had always treaded on; the wild, unkempt variety of nature, so divergent from the meticulous selection of unblemished flora just outside his room; and the raucous crowd that trailed through the village, completely rid of any falsities or pretence.

He knew from the corner of his eye that Taehyun was watching him with earnest eyes, an amused smile playing on his lips, almost like he was wondering how Beomgyu could appear so blissful just by leaving the palace. If only Taehyun had asked, Beomgyu would have gladly explained – just as Taehyun had been so grateful to enter the world of nobles and royalty, Beomgyu was equally, if not overwhelmingly, thankful for the opportunity to leave that same realm and experience a simpler life that he had always dreamt of.

It was a late weekday afternoon, but the streets were bustling with activity. Beomgyu was pleasantly surprised when he realised that both of them had visited at the perfect instance, as a local festival was taking place that day. Having grown up alongside this culture, Taehyun explained it with ease that it was a small, regular event to celebrate the honest work of the village folk. A river neatly meandered through the centre of the village, and they wandered along a road running parallel to the stream. Booths lined both ends of the pathway, with local street vendors calling out for passers-by to stop and take a gander at their merchandise, and eager buyers looking to haggle for a discount.  

Beomgyu headed straight for the stalls, taking in the sight with avid joy and making sure to capture every single detail with his bright eyes. “My god, I’ve never been to a local fair like this in my life. It’s so much more spontaneous and interesting than any ridiculously staged celebration back in the palace,” he told Taehyun, recalling the bland repetitiveness of all the palace performances that left no margin for deviation.

“Hyung-nim, you should be careful with your words…” Taehyun’s voice dropped to a whisper, reminding Beomgyu not to accidentally reveal his identity to the public.

“Ah, you’re right…” Beomgyu grinned shyly. He had become distracted, utterly immersed in the practices of the commoners.

“But, I’m really glad that you find all this to be a spectacular sight,” Taehyun admitted, eyes growing fond from nostalgia. “I grew up in this kind of friendly atmosphere, far different from the strict rules and decorum expected of noble folk. It never feels dull or old-fashioned when I’m back.”

Beomgyu’s features softened upon realising that, as much as Taehyun enjoyed his new job in the palace, he probably missed the simpler times before that. “Do you visit Kai often in the village?”

“Well, sometimes,” Taehyun said. “Hyuka and I used to hang out at all these festivals and play in the streets together all the time, but now we mostly enjoy the ambiance from a restaurant as we catch up on each other’s lives.”

Beomgyu nodded, but his attention was quickly drawn to a booth that was selling handmade crafts, the shelves lined with homemade rouge, jewellery such as hair pins and necklaces, as well as embroidered fabrics. It was clearly geared towards the female crowd, but the prince had never been one to restrain his interests in conforming to those expected of him.   

He reached out to pick up one of the accessories that caught his eye. It was a knotted tassel, where attractively coloured cords were braided with incredible detail to form intricate designs and patterns, and it sought to match an ornament made of precious stone that was meticulously integrated into the entire piece. “Oh, Taehyun, look at these norigae… they’re so pretty,” Beomgyu gushed. He had seen many palace ladies with different variations of the accessory on their hanboks, the ornate trinkets clearly indicative of their social standing. They appeared tedious to make, and he had never imagined that the villagers would sell their hard labour for so cheap.

Taehyun looked over his shoulder from where he was standing behind Beomgyu, almost like he was shielding the prince from the crowd. “They’re all handmade by the townsfolk. They rely on their hands to make a living out of their beautiful craftwork.”

“They are stunning.” Beomgyu was enamoured, looking contemplative as he brushed his porcelain smooth fingers over the knots carefully, afraid that any rough motions would have resulted in them coming undone. “If only I were a girl – I would adorn my hanbok with it without any hesitation. They really are lovely.”

Taehyun tilted his head slightly in a questioning manner. “That doesn’t matter. Hyung-nim can still buy it if he wants.”

“I could. But I would never use it,” Beomgyu said with a forlorn smile, chuckling softly as he put the norigae back down on the display shelf. “Because what is the point, if I were to store it tucked away in some hidden drawer in fear that my parents get the wrong idea from my purchases? And after all, I would much rather a beautiful lady get to actually use this for herself.”

“What would they think?”

“Maybe, that I was courting someone,” Beomgyu said, turning around to face Taehyun. He didn’t expect the other boy to have been standing so close behind him from where he was looking over the prince’s shoulder, and they locked eyes. As Beomgyu’s eyes searched Taehyun’s face with an inexplicable expression dawning his own features, his tongue felt numb. “I mean, a girl, specifically…” he added, fumbling over his own thoughts.

Taehyun quickly shifted away to give him space, head bowed in an apologetic fashion for having strayed too close. Beomgyu didn’t know how to reveal that he didn’t mind if they continued to stick by one another, so he chose not to pursue the matter. Instead, he continued down the street wordlessly with Taehyun in tow.

As the sun was starting to set, Beomgyu reluctantly headed back to the palace with Taehyun in tow, the ecstatic look on his face when he had first set out now replaced by a glum frown. Taehyun was attentive as always, and sought to comfort the prince with his words.

“Hyung-nim, maybe we should take more strolls down to the village in the future,” Taehyun suggested. “Of course, you have to finish all your studies first.”

Beomgyu let out a hearty chuckle, eyes forming thin crescents at the thought that Taehyun had read his mind with absolute certainty, and he was completely right. “Taehyun-ah, you really do know me so well,” he breathed.

The scholar’s only response was the quiet bob of his head, but Beomgyu was starting to realise that his true musings were starkly visible from the look in his eyes. Right then, Taehyun’s brown orbs had caught the remnants of the golden sunlight, and his eyes were upturned in an unspoken, satisfied smile from the compliment. Even when Beomgyu had to part ways with him for their separate meals, he didn’t listen to a single word that his father, nor his other siblings, were saying across the dinner table.

They could have been praising him for his increased proficiency in politics, economics and philosophical theories (of which credit should have been given to his tutor), but Beomgyu’s mind was still down at the village, having taken a far greater interest in the honest work of the villagers’ handicrafts, the simple life that they were able to lead, and the wholehearted smile contained in Taehyun’s eyes.

IV.

“… been asleep for a while now. I believe it is about time for him to take his medication.”

“Right. At least, he is no longer having trouble breathing…”

Beomgyu stirred, suddenly rousing from his slumber to a pair of familiar voices who were speaking at his bedside in a low, hushed volume. One voice undoubtedly belonged to Yeonjun, and he was confident of this given that they had basically grown up alongside one another through thick and thin. The other voice was reminiscent of another person whom he had grown to care about deeply over the past few years of getting to know him, but Beomgyu had never heard this novel side of him – one where he sounded anxious, or even panicked.

“… Taehyun? Is that you?” he croaked out, throat dry and dehydrated from having been kept in an undisturbed nap for hours.

Before Beomgyu could even open his eyes fully, vision fuzzy as he slowly adjusted to the light, he felt a presence sit itself down next to him. Upon hearing his name, Taehyun had instinctively knelt down beside Beomgyu’s head in a guard dog-like response. Beomgyu was acutely aware of Taehyun’s hands that were mere inches from his head, pressed onto the wooden floorboards as he leaned over the prince’s still body to check on his physical condition. In his delirious state of mind, Beomgyu found himself wishing that the younger boy would simply dare to cross their boundaries and rest his hands on his cheeks in an act of affection.

“Yes, hyung-nim. How are you feeling now?” Taehyun asked, voice trembling with worry.

Beomgyu chuckled, pushing himself off his elbows slowly to sit up. Yeonjun lunged forward to support him, hands firmly on his back. “Much better, now that you’re here. I’m sick of being stuck in my musty room.”

Taehyun audibly sighed, and Beomgyu knew what he was thinking – he couldn’t believe that after such a bout of severe illness, the sickly prince was still thinking about how he could escape from the palace. “Well, you have to stay put, or you won’t get better,” he warned cautiously.

“I know, but Father probably thinks this is a build-up of illnesses all because I’ve been going down to the village more often these few years. He’s probably cursing at them for inflicting this upon me,” Beomgyu complained weakly. Despite his attempts to keep his and Taehyun’s ventures under wraps, it was inevitable that his father found out from the numerous palace guards who were watching every exit from the palace with eagle eyes. He supposed that they were already lucky enough that his father didn’t say a single word about it, let alone have forbidden them from exploring beyond his residence, and had acquiesced in Beomgyu’s mildly rebellious activities for the past couple of years. 

“I’m sure His Majesty understands your condition from the royal physician,” Taehyun assured him.

“You’re too nice, Taehyun. Ah… this is awful. I really want to go out,” Beomgyu groaned, already missing the unspoken schedule that they had become accustomed to whenever he became overwhelmed with his studies and princely duties, both of which were beginning to ramp up given that Beomgyu was fast approaching the age of adulthood.

Taehyun could only offer his sweet words and his even more attractive smile as encouragement. “We can go again when you recover. I’ll take you even further to see new sights.”

“I can’t wait,” Beomgyu muttered. “I especially want to see their art and culture festivals again. Their handmade items are always so pretty…”

“I know. Please get better, hyung-nim,” Taehyun repeated like it was a personal prayer of sorts. He perked up, recalling his conversation with the royal guard right before he had been distracted by Beomgyu’s awakening. “Ah, Yeonjun-ssi said that it’s time to take your medication.”

Beomgyu stuck out his tongue defiantly at the thought of the bitter pills coating his tongue, but stretched out his arm to reach for the cup of water that Yeonjun had offered him, along with a small dish containing a selection of pills prescribed by the royal physician. He had been running a high fever when the diagnosis was being made, and couldn’t fully recall the benefits consuming each of them. He obediently popped all the pills into his mouth and swallowed them quickly with a gulp of water, discreetly shifting his gaze to focus on Taehyun as he did so, and relished in the way that the scholar beamed, clearly placated.

Beomgyu figured that his brain was still short-circuiting from the effects of suffering from this particular bout of illness. If, over the past few years, he already had been subtlety coveting Taehyun’s undivided attention and praise, then he had subconsciously become even clingier when he was feeling under the weather. It was undeniably childish that, even as he was turning older, he still felt the need to constantly compete with novels and scriptures for Taehyun’s regard. While the prince had always assumed that he would grow out of it, he’d only grown to hyper fixate on everything that Taehyun embodied with greater intensity.

As Beomgyu mindlessly mulled over his thoughts, he accepted a soybean dessert from Yeonjun, who had retrieved it from the tray that the palace attendants had brought together with the medicine. The royal kitchen was aware of Beomgyu’s particular distaste for the bitter medication, and it became a habit for him to consume a sweet-tasting food after taking his pills. Just as he was about to put a spoonful into his mouth, Taehyun suddenly lurched towards him and grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Hyung-nim, don’t eat that!” he yelled.

More stunned by the physical contact between both of them that Taehyun had been withholding since they were introduced to one another, Beomgyu stilled instantly, eyes wide and cheeks growing hot.

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun asked concernedly.

Taehyun’s face hardened, voice cold and stern like Beomgyu had never heard before, even when he was being particularly irritating and refusing to comply with his studies. “Call the palace maid who served this from the kitchen, now.”

Yeonjun complied, rushing off in the direction of the royal kitchen. Taehyun pried the bowl out of Beomgyu’s hands, gripping onto it so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The moment that Yeonjun returned with an extremely flustered looking attendant in tow, Beomgyu was treated to another side of the scholar that he had never seen before. While Taehyun was ordinarily calm, and prided himself on his composure, he immediately raised his voice, tone exasperated and clearly incensed.

“How could you be so careless as to serve a dried ginseng pill with a soybean dessert?!” Taehyun roared angrily, his features creased into an infuriated frown. “Don’t you know the possible side effects of combining the two of them, especially when His Excellency is already in a malnourished state? He could have been poisoned!”

Beomgyu let out a soft gasp, eyeing the dessert bowl in shock. He had absolutely no knowledge regarding the side effects from combining of certain foods, and was surprised, but more so impressed, at Taehyun’s ability to identify the pills and the food that he was consuming just by its appearance. Still, he was even more astonished at Taehyun’s enraged figure, and had instinctively recoiled when Taehyun had yelled at the maid.

Said palace maid was on her knees, forehead pressed to the floorboards like she wanted to meld with the wood and disappear. “I’m so sorry,” she begged, voice trembling with fear. “I was not careful when the kitchen plated His Excellency’s dishes. I deserve to be punished!”

Taehyun let out a sound of utter displeasure, running a hand through his hair as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “The royal kitchen can’t even get their cooking right, to the point that they almost harmed a royal prince?! What is going on with the management in there? If anything happens to His Excellency, I–“ Taehyun cut himself short, turning away to regain his composure.

Beomgyu took this as his opportunity to calm the scholar down. “Taehyun-ah, it’s okay. Don’t scold her so much, it was an honest mistake, I’m sure.” He attempted to give the palace maid a reassuring smile, but she remained in a kowtow position since her life literally depended on it.

“Your Excellency, this is no light-hearted manner. I will excuse myself now,” Taehyun said abruptly. He bowed at Beomgyu and Yeonjun, before hoisting the maid to her feet with ease and gesturing at the door. “Come with me.”

“Taehyun–“ Before Beomgyu could even protest further, Taehyun had hurried out of his private quarters with the palace maid right on his heels, not even bothering to look back at the prince.

“Your Excellency, should I…?” Yeonjun nodded towards the door. The royal guard didn’t even need to finish his sentence, before Beomgyu nodded, waving him out of the room as well. He knew exactly what Yeonjun was asking.

“Yes please, make sure both of them are alright,” Beomgyu called out worriedly. “Especially the poor maid.”

Not knowing what else to do, he lay down on his bed, but was unable to return to sleep. Beomgyu didn’t know how long he had spent staring at the ceiling boards and zoning out, Taehyun’s anger and attentive protection of him actively replaying in his mind in an endless loop until the doors to his room slid open once more.

Yeonjun sauntered in with a knowing smirk across his face like he was completely aware of something that Beomgyu wasn’t privy to. That smug look was accompanied by a bowl in his hands, and the royal guard skilfully crossed the room without spilling a single drop. He set it down on Beomgyu’s bedside table, and the prince sat up curiously to catch a glimpse of what was contained within the porcelain dish.

“Scholar Kang cooked this by himself so that he could demonstrate the ideal gastronomy for your palate to the royal kitchen. He hopes that it is to your liking,” Yeonjun announced, passing Beomgyu a spoon. It appeared to be a hot, steaming bowl of Samgyetang, the broth still bubbling as though it had just been freshly scooped off the stove. The boiled chicken glistened under a thin layer of flavoured oil, and it stirred up Beomgyu’s appetite along with his heart.

“He can cook…? I never knew that,” Beomgyu whispered to himself. Taehyun really was just full of surprises. The prince filled his spoon with some soup and a bit of the tender chicken meat, and took a generous bite.

“… It’s delicious,” Beomgyu murmured, immediately going in for more.

Although Taehyun didn’t come back to check on him after, the gesture was more than enough to keep Beomgyu’s stomach and face warm for the rest of the day, and to keep his mind encircling the same thought over and over: How nice it would be if Taehyun was able to cook like this for me every day, then I wouldn’t mind staying sick for longer…

V.

After years of having received gifts at his mandatory birthday celebration, Beomgyu was downright sick of the gesture. At such an event, all the presents that he was ordinarily bestowed with were merely superficial and barely contained any form of sincerity. If they weren’t given for the sake of trying to maintain good relations with him, in hopes that he would think highly of them and grant them a promotion upon ascending to the throne in the future, it was purely for formalities’ sake. Even his parents’ gifts were utterly boring and useless in his eyes, but he was forced to pretend like he truly appreciated their thoughts in front of the expectant eyes of the court officials and palace attendants. In reality, he knew that no one had put any real thought into the things that they gave him. He received the same things every year – new bows and arrows, more novels, or porcelain tea sets, of which he already had many variations. They were so generic that if he had asked Yeonjun to throw them out, none of the people who had purchased the gift would even know that it was gone from his collection.

Gift-giving became overly associated with mere palace procedure, and he would only be further beating a dead horse if he continued to lament about how much he hated those rules. Yet, it was becoming a routine for Taehyun to unknowingly undo the shackles that had been constraining Beomgyu.

Although they had no plans for a tutoring session that very day, and Beomgyu had chosen to rest at his private hanok for the entire afternoon without telling a single soul in the palace of his whereabouts, Taehyun had managed to locate him. As the prince saw him approaching with a box in his hands, he sat up immediately, amazed by the surprise visit.

“Taehyun,” Beomgyu greeted. “You managed to find me.”

Taehyun bowed at him before taking a seat next to the prince, crossed-legged and proper. “Hyung-nim, I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries between us, there’s something I would like to give you.”

Beomgyu chortled at the sudden pensive mood, but his heartbeat began to pick up speed from the sudden act of affection. “Taehyun, please, drop the formal act already. Of course, I would love a present from you.” This time, he truly meant his words, and it wasn’t just a show for the sake of indulging the palace. After all, there was nobody around that he had to fool.

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked inquisitively as Taehyun handed him the box, looking mildly flustered.

Taehyun gestured towards the gift. “Open it,” he coaxed.

So Beomgyu did, but he never could have predicted its contents. Inside, lying on a small, plush cushion, was a beaded string lined with a variety of precious stones in different sizes, curated to form an alternating pattern. He held it up, and the beads caught the light, glowing and shimmering brightly while casting a coloured glow onto his skin and the folds of his robes.

The prince instantly recognised it to be the straps of beads that were often attached to the gats that they wore when exploring beyond the palace grounds. It had the main purpose of weighing the hat down, but more aesthetically, they were often customised by the rich nobility to showcase their individuality and wealth. Far opposed to the gifts that he had previously received, it had such a personal, hand-made touch that Beomgyu instantly loved.

“Taehyun, this is gorgeous,” Beomgyu said in awe.

“It’s a gat-kkeun,” Taehyun explained, in case of any uncertainty. “I know you are enamoured with the norigae from the village, but you had mentioned that you wouldn’t find any use for it. So, I searched for a ganniljang, a gat artisan, who would only use the finest of amber, ivory and silk, and paid him to custom make this for you. This way, you can make full use of this hand-made craft.”

Beomgyu was rendered speechless by the sheer degree of thought which Taehyun had put into thinking of what to give him. It was so unlike anything he had ever been gifted before, and it almost drove him to tears. He forced himself to swallow back his emotions. “What’s the special occasion?” Beomgyu asked, but his voice was clearly shaky.

Taehyun grinned, an alluring smile gracing his features. “I didn’t know it was a special occasion to want to see you smile more often, hyung-nim. I suppose, this could count as a present for your upcoming birthday as well.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but giggle at that. “What do you mean? Look, I’m smiling right now because of you.”

Taehyun looked down at his hands, which were fiddling with his robes shyly for once. “I guess, apart from me, I noticed that you never smile in the palace grounds. If you do, it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes and you always drop it after the other party looks away,” he said before abruptly looking up to make unmoving eye contact with Beomgyu, who was somewhat startled by Taehyun’s intense gaze on him. Realisation was starting to dawn on Beomgyu that, just as much as he was always searching for Taehyun, the scholar was also equally aware of all his little habits and mannerisms. 

“Whenever we head out, you never stopped smiling genuinely. You were always looking at the intricate handicrafts by the village people, but I couldn’t look away from you. You were so radiant, hyung-nim… and I want for you to always be happy,” Taehyun admitted, eyes glossed over with genuine endearment for the prince.

Beomgyu grinned. He was certain that his face was now red. If Taehyun reached out to touch it, he would have been scalded from the sheer heat. “I am happy, Taehyun. You always make me happy. I’ll always cherish your gift.”

“I suppose this means that we’ll have to leave the palace together during breaks more often,” Taehyun teased, canines flashing attractively. “So that you can use it more often.”

“Of course!” Beomgyu gushed at the thought. “Was it… really expensive? It’s so beautiful, but it must have cost a fortune. You really didn’t have to– “

“But I wanted to,” Taehyun said simply. “And the artisan was kind enough to give me a discount.”

“How? Did you bargain with him using your intellect?” Beomgyu asked.

“No… it’s because I bought a second one for myself too,” Taehyun said, reaching into the pocket of his robes and pulling out a similar looking gat-kkeun to show Beomgyu. It didn’t take very long for the prince to notice that they looked identical, from the choice of precious stones to the pattern in which they were strung.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened. “Oh! Taehyun, it…?”

Taehyun nodded eagerly. “It matches yours, hyung-nim. That way, people will definitely know that we are associated when we head out into the village. You won’t need to panic if you get lost again!” He laughed it off, but even to Beomgyu’s ears, it sounded like an excuse for his true reason of purchasing it.

“Come on, I’m not that terrible at directions!” Beomgyu nudged him with his elbow. “But seriously, Taehyun. I love it. Thank you for the surprise. I will treasure it with all my heart, really.”

“It was nothing,” Taehyun said casually, shrugging coolly like it was no big deal, but the tips of his ears were undeniably redder than usual. “I would do anything for you, hyung-nim.”

Beomgyu contemplated for a split second before deciding to go with spontaneity, endeavouring to break down the walls between them yet again. Though Taehyun usually shied away from physical contact between them, Beomgyu offered his hand down to the scholar. “Let’s head down to the village for a meal, Taehyun. I want to use your gift right now.”

“Now?” Taehyun repeated. Much to Beomgyu’s astonishment, he reached out to take Beomgyu’s hand gratefully, hoisting himself up to his feet.

“Yes,” Beomgyu said eagerly, squeezing Taehyun’s hand tightly, an act to convince himself that whatever was happening between them was truly part of his reality.

Taehyun didn’t try to let go of his hand either, beaming widely. “We can go wherever you want to go, hyung-nim.”

VI.

When Beomgyu was younger, he had thought that growing older would imply that he would have greater freedom to enjoy what he truly yearned to do. On hindsight, that was merely a naïve dream – Beomgyu internally laughed at his own youthful innocence, and for even daring to have the idea that he would truly be at liberty so long as he was chained down by his life of royalty. He had learnt, by experiences and honed reflexes, to dread the date that marked his birth. As it slowly crept up on him, Beomgyu knew that turning one year older was a mere indication to the officials, attendants and his own family that he should be crowned with an increasing load of duties to uphold.

This year, the highest responsibility for a prince was finally bestowed upon him for turning twenty. Beomgyu was set to officially assume the position of the Crown Prince, and would be first in line to ascend the throne. His father had arranged his coronation day to fall on the same date as his birthday for added celebrations and festivity. While everyone else within the palace walls was ecstatic at his progress, Beomgyu himself was overcome with a sense of despair as the fact that he would never be able to lead a regular life begun to set in. The entire process felt like a slug to get through, and he found himself wallowing in dread as time ticked on during the ceremony.

He had briefly made eye contact with Taehyun during the course of the ceremony, having spotted him among the scholars that worked in the Royal Library. He had been engaged in a quiet conversation with one of his good friends, a scholar whom Beomgyu knew as Choi Soobin. When Taehyun had spotted Beomgyu’s gaze on him, he immediately turned his attention to smile at the new Crown Prince as a form of encouragement.

Another, more selfish reason for why Beomgyu hated the passing years had to do with Taehyun. Just as he had gotten busier with his increasing load of duties, Taehyun, too, was constantly being pulled away to deal with matters at the Royal Library. It had become a rare occasion for them to spend time together outside of mandatory lessons, and were venturing down to the village even less than before. Beomgyu was truly happy for him – the scholar was finally getting recognised for his capabilities, and he had even caught wind of a rumour (and not a completely baseless one) from some officials that Taehyun would soon be promoted to the court. If both of them were already starting to drift from one another now, Beomgyu didn’t know where they would stand relative to one another down the road.

When it was finally over, Beomgyu sought to escape from the crowd as quickly as humanly possible, but not without forcing a few smiles at high-ranked officials who greeted him with his new, upgraded title. He made a beeline for his personal quarters with the most obscure route he could think of, but of course, Taehyun managed to catch up with him halfway.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Your Royal Highness,” Taehyun’s voice called from behind. Beomgyu groaned inwardly at the title, but turned around to face the scholar through a knee-jerk reaction.

Beomgyu pressed the side of his temples, trying to mitigate an oncoming headache. “It’s nothing special. We all knew that I was going to get the title just because I was born first,” he said, never failing to call out the system that he hated so deeply.

“It’s still a day of celebration,” Taehyun offered. “Your Royal Highness could be more delighted to know with certainty that he will ascend to the throne someday.”

“But what joy will I get out of that? I will never get to do anything I want and spend my days with who I want,” Beomgyu responded curtly, despondent at his future which, in his eyes, was bleak. “And Taehyun, I already told you, just refer to me as ‘hyung-nim’ as you always have. I don’t care about my change in title.”

He knew that Taehyun was trying to be polite, but the way that the scholar had addressed him by his formal title left a sour taste in his mouth.

“But– “

“Will you not listen to your Crown Prince?” Beomgyu raised an eyebrow.

“… Yes, hyung-nim,” Taehyun obliged very obediently, but grumbled jokingly under his breath about how Beomgyu only liked to use his authority when he personally benefitted from it.

Beomgyu smirked, then dropped his authoritative façade to chuckle brightly at the scholar’s candid nature. “Taehyun-ah, you’re the only person who gives me a breath of fresh air in this palace. Outside of this quiet space, I feel like I’m constantly holding my breath, choking on the words I truly want to say.”

Taehyun’s face grew solemn, taking in Beomgyu’s words with a heightened attentiveness. He began slowly, a small smile spreading across his face, “As your loyal servant, I’m happy to be able to give you what you desire.”

Beomgyu had been feeling particularly vulnerable that day with his emotions, and upon hearing that, he opted to showcase the full display of his clingy dependency to the scholar. Frankly, although the both of them had grown close, to the point that they were almost inseparable, Beomgyu continued to be unsure of where he truly stood in Taehyun’s life. Insecurity often flooded his mind when they were together, and though he did despise the certainty of the rigid palace decrees, he occasionally wished that his and Taehyun’s relationship could be defined more objectively. In that manner, he could finally be rid of any doubts.

Enacting his plan swiftly, Beomgyu insisted that Taehyun join him for a drink that night in his room. Taehyun initially resisted, clearly still hesitant to cross their boundaries in leaps and bounds, but Beomgyu managed to convince the younger man that it was a special occasion on account of his birthday, and for Taehyun’s likely upcoming promotion.

He asked the palace maids to prepare a decent variety of alcohol for them in hopes that their conversation would last throughout the night. Since both of them had just about reached adulthood, he had never drunk with Taehyun before this, and his heart thumped eagerly at the idea of seeing Taehyun loosened up from the liquor, perhaps even feeling more daring from the liquid courage to cross more boundaries between them than ever before.

Yeonjun was still tasked to keep watch over them. He stood in the corner quietly as he eyed the two, but Beomgyu had never been bothered by Yeonjun’s presence. It only felt natural that the royal guard was around, and it bolstered his false bravado knowing that he had supportive company.

“Today’s celebration is for you, Taehyun,” Beomgyu began pouring out a glass of soju for the scholar. “Since I just know that you’ll be promoted to the court very soon, just like you always worked for.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Taehyun said, but he beamed radiantly anyway, and reached over to clink glasses with Beomgyu. “Congratulations again on your coronation.”

“Seriously, Taehyun, it’s no big deal,” Beomgyu said, downing a shot with ease. “It’s all a dumb birth right.”

Taehyun furrowed his brows at that. “Hyung-nim, you should take it with more pride.”

Beomgyu took another drink, and rubbed his hand across his face in annoyance. “Taehyun, I’m really trying.”

“I know,” Taehyun said understandingly, as patiently as he possibly could be. “But I’ve seen the amount of effort you put in to try and live up to all the expectations on you. That dedication towards improving, in itself, is impressive. I admire you a lot, hyung-nim.”

“But, it’s not what I want to do at all. I’m… not like you. I’m not passionate about the role I’ve been thrown into.”

“Hyung–“

“I know!” Beomgyu cut him off, feeling a little tipsy. “I know it’s privileged of me to think this way, especially when you’ve worked so hard all your life to get to where you are today. You must have wished to be born into a family of nobility, too, don’t you? Meanwhile, all I want for myself is the complete opposite of that.”

In failing to control himself from defending his own mindset, the atmosphere between them had become tense and awkward. Beomgyu could see from the corner of his vision that even Yeonjun was casting him with the largest side eye in history, signalling for him to switch up the mood. At this point, Beomgyu just wanted to scream into his pillow. He had never intended for their conversation to head down this route at all.

“Taehyun-ah, what if our lives were different from now?” Beomgyu started again, trying desperately to salvage their friendship.

“What do you mean, hyung-nim?” Taehyun’s inquisitive eyes were wide.

Beomgyu pressed on. “If I wasn’t a prince, and you were not a scholar, do you think… we could…?”

“How we could have lived our lives?” Taehyun offered, filling in the blanks.

“Well, yes…”

Taehyun looked up at the ceiling, clearly mulling over the thought with serious consideration. “To be honest, I am already contented with everything that I have now. Serving the kingdom using the little knowledge I can offer, having a loving family who supports me, being able to meet Hyuka’s family–“

“No, no! I meant, hypothetically, if you ended up leading a commoners’ life, what do you think it would be like?” Beomgyu asked tersely. “If you had never entered the palace?”

Taehyun hummed, pausing to take another sip of alcohol. “I think I’d run a restaurant with my family, serving the village with warm food and smiles every day. And hopefully, I would still be good friends with Hyuka, and Soobin…”

Beomgyu bit his lip with displeasure, the only thought running through his mind being what about me? Do I not bear any significant place in your life? He downed another glass, hoping that the liquor would soon drown his sorrows, or bury the churning feeling within his stomach. He knew very well that the rising bile was not due to the drinks, but was purely the effect of the other man who was seated in front of him.

“What if I was a commoner, at the same time as you?” Beomgyu suggested. “Do you think we could… be friends? Ordinary friends? If we were born in the same dynasty but under different circumstances?”

“Maybe,” Taehyun said with a gentle smile that indulged Beomgyu’s heart. “It would be very charming to see you around the village, and it would brighten my day whenever you visit my restaurant, if I ever started it.”

Beomgyu’s head was starting to turn groggy. The noise of his rapidly pumping heart was the only sound that filled his ears, but he endeavoured to continue, bracing himself for the result of his next question that threatened to shatter the carefully contrived limits of their relationship. “Then, what about more than just friends…?”

The silence that filled the room was deafening. Beomgyu didn’t know if he was subconsciously holding his own breath, almost like any sort of disturbance to the air around them would fundamentally alter the response that came out of Taehyun’s lips. Through his vision that was beginning to blur, ever so slightly, Beomgyu fixed his gaze on Taehyun’s expression with wavering eyes. The younger man himself appeared frozen by the unexpected question, and moved slowly to trace the rim of his cup as though thawing himself out with his own movements.

Taehyun’s eyes shifted from his delicate hands, to the table, and eventually up to meet Beomgyu’s eyes. The prince didn’t need to hear his next words, for he could already predict the kind of response that he would be given – Taehyun’s expression had hardened, eyebrows creased like he was in a bout of emotional turmoil, once sparkling eyes now glazed over with an unreadable hesitance that only sought to cement the distance between them. Before Beomgyu could even bear to tell the scholar to save his breath, Taehyun had already opened his mouth to answer his question.

“Hyung-nim, I’ve… never allowed myself to think further than just being your loyal scholar. To address you casually is already pushing the limit of everything I’ve been taught since young.” Taehyun shut his eyes, breathing out audibly. “So, to be close friends of equal standing… it’s just unfathomable for me.”

His words were like a careless spark that had made contact with open kerosene. Blame it on the combination of alcohol running through his veins at full concentration and a pent-up desire to simply connect with the other man without any restrictions or limitations hammering both of them down, but Beomgyu sat up abruptly, slamming both his hands on the table violently. His cup had spilt over, a mirror of his heart that was overflowing with unbearable feelings.

“Then why do you treat me so specially? Is it just because you feel a duty to the country, or the court, or to me? Without this forced companionship, would you never think to even spare me a second glance, even when I– I…“ Beomgyu slumped over, hiccupping and stammering through his words as he fought to keep his tears behind his eyes with every muscle in his body.

Yeonjun took that as his queue to intervene, stepping forward and out of the shadows in a last-ditch attempt to protect Beomgyu’s dignity. His face was scrunched up in pity at the prince’s utter failure to communicate his feelings. “…Your Royal Highness, please. I think that’s enough drinks for today,” he said, bending down to pry a soju bottle out of Beomgyu hands.

He turned to Taehyun and nodded apologetically. “Scholar Kang, I apologise that you have to see the Crown Prince like this.”

“It’s alright, Yeonjun-ssi. It might be best for me to get going first,” Taehyun’s voice had dropped to a low whisper. “Please take care of His Royal Highness on my behalf.” He stood up to leave, but not without hovering over Beomgyu for a split second. Tearing his eyes away from the prince, he began to stride out of the room.

“Kang Taehyun! I told you, it’s hyung-nim–“ Beomgyu started to yell at him, but barely made it through his sentence before passing out in Yeonjun’s arms.

When he finally awoke the next day, the sun was already blazing in the sky. Beomgyu sat up shakily, instinctively searching his bedroom for Taehyun in hopes that the other man had come to check on him, but there was no other figure in sight. His heart sank in disappointment, and let his head droop into his arms upon recalling the events of the previous night. Taehyun’s words repeated over and over in his mind, looping obsessively. Beomgyu knew that it was dangerous for his psyche, and he sought to focus on anything else that he could find to be of interest in his room.

It was then that he noticed a bowl of soup on his bedside table, placed over a small handwritten note. He lifted the bowl to take a read, realising that it was still warm to the touch. The instant that Beomgyu looked over at the neat handwriting, he recognised it to be Taehyun’s.

Hyung-nim, I hope you’re feeling alright after last night. I cooked some haejang-guk soup for you to reduce your hangover. If you need anything else, please send somebody to the Royal Library to call for me. – Taehyun

Beomgyu couldn’t help but let out a sad chuckle. Even after all that was said the night before, it was clear that Taehyun had remained so loyal to him. Yet, it stung even more knowing that although both of them always toed the line between showing concern for a mere friend and a significant other, the scholar was only willing to explicitly care for him from a clear, demarcated distance. Despite all of that, the kindness that Taehyun continued to show him felt like an addictive drug that Beomgyu was simply unable to quit, and he longed to continue revelling in the gentle, restrained affection that the younger man showed him. He would have gladly accepted anything that Taehyun offered him if it meant that he could continue to rely on him.

Beomgyu’s memory wandered back to how Taehyun had assured him of his devotion. As your loyal servant, I’m happy to be able to give you what you desire, he had said, voice and expression radiating with conviction.

But, the prince finally allowed himself to think, what if the thing I truly desire… is not so much a thing, but a person, and that person is you?

He scooped a spoonful of the broth into his mouth. Inexplicably, the burst of flavour and warmth of the dish brought tears to his eyes, and Beomgyu no longer prevented them from sliding down his cheeks, the drops soaking into his expensive robes. His lips quivered in a melancholic smile, and the truth finally settled in that, ah, maybe… I really am in love with him.

VII.

With each passing season, change within the palace was inevitable. The rumour that Taehyun would be receiving a promotion to the Royal Court had finally come true – instead of just being the Crown Prince’s tutor, and helping out within the Royal Library, he would now become increasingly involved in debating with other scholars and officials on the appropriate policies or philosophies for the sake of Joseon’s future prosperity. All the papers and submissions that Taehyun had tirelessly worked on would, at long last, stand a chance of being implemented into reality. Taehyun didn’t need to say anything for Beomgyu to know that the scholar had attained the goal that he had been consistently striving for. 

Beomgyu had full intentions of celebrating his achievements together – perhaps they could grab a meal for old times’ sake, laugh about their trivial inside jokes and blur the boundaries between being prince and servant once again. Making sure to time it perfectly, Beomgyu waited eagerly outside the hall where the promotion ceremony for the chosen scholars had been taking place, and rushed to catch up with Taehyun when he saw the other man exiting the building, probably heading straight back to the Royal Library like the workaholic that he always embodied.

As Beomgyu chased after Taehyun’s back, he was overcome with a sense of déjà vu, and he couldn’t help but break out into a wide grin as he sprinted. 

“Taehyun!” Beomgyu called out. “Congratulations on your promotion to the court!”

Taehyun turned around to face him. Beomgyu tried his hardest to ignore the fact that his smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Now, we’ll be able to see each other during court sessions and outside of just tutoring lessons. Don’t get sick of me!” the prince teased.

Taehyun bowed his head stiffly. “… thank you, Your Royal Highness.”

His entire demeanour thoroughly confused Beomgyu.

“Hey, how many times have I told you to stop that? You just can’t drop the habit, huh?” Beomgyu reached out his hand gently, wanting to ruffle Taehyun’s black hair affectionately, but the scholar flinched away from his touch. A strange sense of dread was crawling up on Beomgyu’s back, sending chills down his spine.

Again, he pretended like everything between them was completely normal – there was no other way for him to cope with the way that Taehyun was acting. “Anyway… here, I have a gift for you,” Beomgyu said, reaching into his sleeves to pull out a thin black box.

At last, Taehyun’s nonplussed expression finally morphed into a look harnessing more emotions – except it was horror. “What?” he said, shocked. “Your Royal Highness, you can’t–“

“Open it,” Beomgyu insisted, shoving the box into the scholar’s hands.

It was so ingrained in his habits to listen to the prince, so Taehyun silently complied. Inside was a sleek wooden calligraphy brush. The handle was carved from bamboo, and the tip of the silky brush hair was neatly styled to a sharp point.

“It’s a calligraphy brush! I had it custom made with the finest horse hair and wood in the country,” Beomgyu explained with glee. “Hopefully, this will be your instrument in writing even better papers and books for the court, and whenever you use it, you’ll think of me.”

Taehyun shut the box, shaking his head as he tried to pass it back to Beomgyu. “Your Royal Highness, I can’t accept this gift. It’s too much. Please, use it for yourself.”

With that, Beomgyu finally exploded. “What’s with you today, Taehyun? This is so unlike you,” he chastised, mind whirling with pent-up frustration from their growing distance. “In fact, you’re the one who gave me the matching gat-kkeun as a present first!”

Taehyun bowed. “It was my mistake to buy you that gift. I deeply apologise. But I can no longer accept these presents from you.”

Beomgyu’s hands were balled into tight fists, resisting the urge to grab Taehyun by the shoulders and shake him so vigorously that he would come to his senses. “You– You don’t have to be sorry about buying me that! Taehyun, why are you acting this way? You’ve been pushing me away all this time and I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I can’t overlook this anymore. Did I do something wrong to you? Because I really don’t see a single reason for you to be acting like this…”

“I’m the problem,” Taehyun said, his face falling. His voice became choked up, like he was struggling to respond. “I’ve been pushing the boundaries between you and I to the point that they’ve been completely blurred. You’re the Crown Prince, and I’m just a lowly scholar who is merely your tutor and a new attendant to the court. You… shouldn’t be treating me so nicely all the time.”

Beomgyu had never cared about the fact that he was a crown prince, and that Taehyun was a royal scholar, nor their difference in social classes and standings. The only time that it ever sought to weigh on his mind was during moments like these, when they were constantly being raised as a justification when he was being torn apart from the person whom he loved the most. And when that very person was now using that same reason against him, the words only cut deeper into his feelings than any blade or shard would have ever been able to, emotions pouring out like they had drawn blood.

“You know that I’ve never given a damn about this ridiculous difference in standing between us. In my eyes, you’re more than enough for me. I just want you around me, don’t you understand?” Beomgyu said pleadingly, searching Taehyun’s expression for a single ounce of regret.

“I… am not allowed to understand,” Taehyun tried to explain, avoiding all eye contact. “The senior scholars have already noticed that you no longer just treat me as your tutor, and … I don’t seem to respect you as our nation’s Crown Price. They’ve been reminding me of the ethics and morals which we’ve studied since young, and the lessons which I’ve memorised in order to get to where I am today. For your own good, I can’t continue to be a bad influence on you. You have to serve the kingdom, not focus on me.”

“So, this is all the fault of those outdated old scholars?” Beomgyu barked out a sarcastic laugh, swearing on his life that he would figure out the identity of the people within the palace who had been feeding Taehyun with lies over the past years. “One word from me and I’ll make sure they’re sent home without a job in the palace–“

Taehyun cut him off halfway. “Your Royal Highness! Please! This is exactly what I mean. You, kicking them out of their jobs purely because they reminded me of my place in your life, is just another example of you showing favouritism towards me… and I cannot allow it anymore, not for the sake of our nation and from my newfound duty to the court.”

“They reminded you about your place in my life? Who are they to dictate that? Are they me, the Crown Prince, whom you seem to put on such a high pedestal?” Beomgyu shook his head, reaching out for Taehyun’s hand. He could care less that they were arguing in the midst of an open corridor where anyone could eavesdrop on them – the only thing they would gain from hearing it was the knowledge that he was, unconditionally, head over heels for the scholar.

“Taehyun, I’m sure you’ve already known for a long time, but your place in my life… is in my heart. I’ve loved you for the longest time. So, I beg you, stop pushing me away, and let’s go back to the days when we were happiest together. The days when nobody interfered with how we acted around one another… please.”

At this point, Beomgyu had laid out all his cards on the table.

“… It’s wrong.”

Beomgyu flinched. “Are you… really saying that to me right now? After everything I’ve told you?”

“According to the Confucian values that we’ve learnt and teach across the country… this relationship we have right now is wrong. And you, our Crown Prince, the future of our country, cannot be seen partaking in such a relationship.” Taehyun’s grip on the box tightened, but he pushed it towards Beomgyu insistently. “I cannot let myself be your downfall.”

“… I guess I was wrong. You really are just like all the other people in this palace, trying to police my life and telling me what I can and cannot do. But I hate that it hurts even more because it came from your mouth, Taehyun. The same person that once told me that he would do anything to see me smile. But now I guess, that was wrong of you to say.” Beomgyu blinked harshly, not wanting to reveal his internal emotional turmoil that was spiralling out of control as he spoke.

He spoke out of frustration. “Fine, let’s go our separate ways. I will find a new tutor so that you don’t have to be tarnished by my love for you. But to make it clear, I have never once cared that I was the Crown Prince, or that I am next in line to ensure that our country will prosper. The only thing that I have ever truly cared about was your happiness, and to be able to stay by your side no matter what storms approach us. But I guess even that was an impossible dream for me.”

Beomgyu shoved the box back at Taehyun bitterly, and turned to leave. After all, he could only hold his tears for so long, and they were beginning to spill out, overflowing like his long-contained feelings. “Just take it as a final goodbye. Pretend that I never gave this to you. I hope that you can use it to further your position within the court, since that’s the only thing you seem to care about these days.”

“Hyung–“

“Don’t address me by that ever again.”

VIII.

Having finally reached adulthood, the King decided that it was time for Beomgyu to find a consort in light of continuing the dynasty in the future, and sent a decree for a number of officials to search for potential partners throughout the land. Of course, the expectations of the royal family demanded that all of the girls came from noble backgrounds, or at least, had a family lineage of aristocracy.

Feeling thoroughly numb from his argument with Taehyun, Beomgyu mindlessly agreed with all of his father’s demands for him to meet up with the girls of his choosing and assess if they would be viable candidates for the role of Crown Princess. He needed something to do anyway, anything that would stop him from spacing out and having his mind drift back to the scholar and his hurt expression again. After their fight, Beomgyu had come up with a million different excuses to avoid spending time with the other, even if they were originally forced to meet in mandatory settings.

Fine, Beomgyu knew that he had responsibilities and duties that only he could accomplish, and that it was impossible to delegate them to anyone else. But the worst part was that the mere fact that he was the Crown Prince had torn him apart from his true longing to love Taehyun freely.

Beomgyu snapped back into reality, catching himself before he wound up in a depreciating headspace once again. He tried his best to refocus his thoughts on one of the possible candidates sitting before him. They were having a meal together, and were engaged in trivial conversation - or at least, he had been trying his best to connect with them. It was undeniable that the lady was objectively pretty according to the beauty standards in the kingdom, but subjectively, to Beomgyu… there was just nothing outstanding about her.

Although she appeared to pass all the rudimentary qualities which the King had expected her to possess, Beomgyu remained unimpressed by the mere fact that she met all of these superficial standards. In his eyes, he already knew that she would probably never amount to anyone significant in his life, but he forced himself to play along with their matchmaking session for the sake of the kingdom.

“Have you been down to the village before?” Beomgyu asked in the midst of their conversation, twirling his chopsticks between his fingers casually.

The lady was noticeably shocked at that question. He supposed nobody had ever bothered to ask her that before. “What? With the peasant folk?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu said, but his eye twitched at the way she addressed them. “What do you think of their culture?”

“Well…” she said, carelessly brushing off his question by likely thinking it was a mindless joke. “It’s rather boring, Your Royal Highness, is it not? They definitely don’t get to enjoy the many activities and luxuries which we can afford… I’d rather live by your side with our current standing, but I guess they seem happier that way.”

“Yeah, I would have been happier that way too…” Beomgyu murmured, setting down his utensils firmly.

“Sorry, Your Royal Highness?”

He gave her a smile laced with pretence. “Oh, no, I said… their lives are definitely happy,” Beomgyu lied, his willingness to continue paying attention to her slowly slipping.

Later on, Yeonjun came by to ensure Beomgyu’s safety by escorting him back to the palace. They walked in tandem as, out of pure curiosity, he asked about the candidate’s chances of success in capturing Beomgyu’s heart.

“It’s impossible.” Beomgyu revealed after a brief moment of silence.

“Was she a terrible person?” Yeonjun said worriedly.

“She was who I expected my father to introduce. But… I can’t get him out of my mind, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sighed, the back of his eyes starting to prickle from the tears once more. “I just can’t bring myself to ever love someone who isn’t him.”

IX.

It had been weeks since Beomgyu had chosen to hole himself up in his bedroom, only selectively coming out of his faux hibernation when the situation, or more like his father, demanded for him to be seen. Even when he left to stroll along the palace corridors, he felt like his body was moving on auto-pilot, half of his mind collapsed in a daze-like stupor. Though he had tried to hide his misery from the rest of the palace, his fragile state of mind was obvious to Yeonjun.

In an effort to cheer the prince up from his emotional slump, the royal guard had dragged him down to the village in the hopes that attending a local music fair would boost his morale. The last time that Beomgyu had ventured among the common folk felt like ages ago, during a time that was now far in the past, where he was accompanied by a devoted scholar. Both of them had been so carefree as they walked, matching gat-kkeun swaying in unison to the beat of their well-harmonised paces.

It did work to some extent – for the first moment in a long while, a glimmer of excitement and joy had returned to Beomgyu’s empty, darkened pupils upon hearing the upbeat music. Both of them stood amongst a crowd of equally keen commoners who were all enjoying the melody of the classical instruments, strummed dexterously by street musicians looking to showcase their skills, and to hopefully earn from generous tips.

“Isn’t this fascinating, Yeonjun?” Beomgyu said, a smile building on his lips. “The music for the common folk is so lively. Their culture truly is beautiful.”

“Indeed,” Yeonjun said with equal wonder. He was about to continue speaking, but suddenly looked as though he had been spooked by a ghost, voice dropping to a nervous stammer. “Oh, good evening…”

Beomgyu spun around to get a glimpse of who Yeonjun had been addressing behind him, and nearly reeled in silent horror to see Taehyun, Soobin and another noble man with charismatic features nearing them slowly. Just as Beomgyu had been completely unprepared to face the love of his life, his heart picking up pace and mind growing hazy, Taehyun looked equally stunned to see him. It might not have been obvious to a regular bystander, but to Beomgyu, who had spent the last years of his life observing the details on the man’s porcelain carved face with utmost yearning, it was apparent that that scholar’s eyes had widened slightly when their gazes met one another, before quickly softening and turning away, downcast. Clearly, neither of them had wanted to see one another at that moment, and had foolishly assumed that they would be able to avoid the other party if they escaped from the palace grounds.

“Good evening, Yeonjun-ssi,” Soobin responded on behalf of the group, smiling politely at them.

The musical melody that had faded into the background of the scene was the only noise aiding to cushion the heightening levels of awkwardness between the two groups.

“… What brings you down to the village, Scholar Kang?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun finally spoke. “I was just about to have dinner with scholar Soobin and my noble friend, Kai, at a nearby restaurant.”

Ah, so that is his childhood friend, Beomgyu mused. The person who helped him enter the palace, and allowed him to enter into my world. Kai beamed over at him, recognition of Beomgyu’s true identity forming on his expression.

“That’s really nice. Hope the three of you have a good dinner,” Yeonjun said, hoping to prompt their departure with those words.

The three men still didn’t move.

Beomgyu tried to ignore their presence. Thankfully, the next piece had begun, and its tune captured his attention. “Hey, Yeonjun-ah. What is the name of this song that is playing?”

Yeonjun stopped to mull over it, but shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure. I can check with the Ministry of Culture to see if they know about it, and get back to you.”

“Alright. It’s really melodious. I’ve never heard anything like it before,” Beomgyu praised.

“Ah, should I request for the royal musicians to learn how to play it, so that you can listen to it even back at the palace?“ Yeonjun asked.

Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to trouble the royal guard with excessive tasks. “It’s alright, I was just curious. It just means that I have another excuse to come back to the village whenever I feel like listening to this song,” he said cheekily.

Yeonjun smiled, but he looked uncertain. “There’s no guarantee you will hear it again, though…”

Kai suddenly reached out and threw an arm over the royal guard’s shoulders. “Hey! Yeonjun, was it? Let me ask you something about the palace…”

Yeonjun understood what was happening immediately, playing into their scheme smoothly. “Oh, yes! I’m also very curious about you, Huening Kai-ssi, and scholar Choi’s newest findings!”

“Just call me Hyuka…” Kai began speaking eagerly, leading Yeonjun and Soobin a short distance away to continue their conversation.

Beomgyu and Taehyun were left standing next to one another wordlessly, near enough that the prince could make out his fidgety actions from the corner of his eye, but still not close enough that their shoulders would graze one another if they shifted. He tried to concentrate on the music that was resonating in his ears, but all he could think about was how to weasel his way out of the situation he had been thrown into. Beomgyu gritted his teeth, swearing to put Yeonjun in a (joking) headlock after they returned to the palace.

“Hyung-nim. I’m sorry for what I said.” Taehyun’s quiet voice cut through the music.

Beomgyu swallowed. “Save it, Taehyun. I don’t want you to get my hopes up. Since it matters so much to you, go off and spend time with friends of your own standing.”

“I never meant it that way!” Taehyun was quick to explain himself, tone frantic and pitch slightly raised. “Since young… I was taught to serve you from a distance so that you would flourish to become the leader that our nation needs. I can’t let my selfish desires get the better of me,” he trailed off, like it had also hurt him to admit the same.

Beomgyu scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Please, look at me. I barely fit the stereotypes of the Crown Prince that all the common folk dream of.”

“That’s not true. I’ve seen how capable you are,” Taehyun insisted, holding an unwavering, almost pleading gaze. “I know how hard you work to achieve the goals put upon you.”

Beomgyu whipped his head around, eyes boring deep into Taehyun’s own. “It doesn’t matter, because I can only reach my highest point if I have you to fall back on,” he declared, deciding that there was no longer a point in mincing his true feelings.

“Do you know why I loved sneaking out to the village with you with our matching gat-kkeun? Because it made me feel like we were leading a different life, one where both of us could lead a simple life without the burden of a royal life and palace responsibilities to wear us down. In that life, it would be just me and you against the world, where gifts only bear significance to both of us instead of implying a message to the entire kingdom, and love confessions don’t threaten the foundational stability of our country.” Beomgyu let out a low chuckle, slowly realising that he had to come to terms with the futility of his own words. “It’s undoubtedly privileged for me to say, but running this kingdom without you by my side is meaningless.”

With that, he strode over to his royal guard, who was pitifully attempting to pretend like him, Soobin and Kai were not just eavesdropping in on the entire duration of their conversation. “Yeonjun, let’s head back for dinner,” Beomgyu called for him.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” Yeonjun complied, giving a slight bow to the others to signal his exit. Beomgyu turned to go, but not before noticing Taehyun’s solemn expression as he pondered over the prince’s last words.

X.

What Beomgyu had assumed would be yet another day spent in boredom – or, more realistically trying and failing miserably not to think about the way he missed Taehyun’s company to an irreparable degree – was turned upside down when Yeonjun had burst into his room. Wordlessly, he had hauled Beomgyu to his feet and dragged the prince out of his quarters. With his sense of urgency, one would have thought that the palace had been set aflame.

Ignoring Beomgyu’s demands to know what was going on, Yeonjun led him to his private hanok. Before Beomgyu could even react, the royal guard had pushed him gently through the door and slid it shut, leaving the prince alone in a room with Taehyun himself.

The scholar beamed upon seeing Beomgyu. Though he still appeared nervous to be in the other’s presence, his eyes softened immediately. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed under his flowing robes, and the head of a stringed instrument which Beomgyu recognised as the sanjo gayageum resting on his right knee.

“Taehyun…? What’s this?” Beomgyu asked wearily. “And who gave you permission to enter my private hanok?”

He could hear audible whispers coming from beyond the door, and they sounded strangely similar to a combination of Yeonjun, Soobin and Kai’s voices.

“I guess you could say that I pulled some strings with Yeonjun,” Taehyun said, chuckling nervously at his own joke. He gestured to a cushion placed a short distance away from the front of the instrument. “If you would allow me to, I want to play a song for you. Please, have a seat.”

It was physically impossible for Beomgyu to deny the wishes of Taehyun, especially when it had been ages since the younger man would actually seek him out, want to spend time with him other than their official duties, or even show him a genuine, irresistible smile. So, giving in to his impulses, Beomgyu sat down.

Taehyun began plucking at the strings of the sanjo gayageum with his right hand. The melody that resonated through the room was slowly joined by the depth of chords and vibratos using his left hand, creating a mesmerising tune that was utterly euphonic to Beomgyu’s ears. He couldn’t help but admire Taehyun’s skilful playing, and especially the charismatic look of concentration on his features as he sought to deliver the piece with perfection. Beomgyu revelled in the moment, taking in the sight of Taehyun serenading him ever so passionately as though he was admiring a work of art on his own.

And as the song swelled to its climax, it hit Beomgyu about why the piece had sounded so familiar.

“This is the piece that I really liked from the village performance,” he said, the realisation rendering him breathless.

Taehyun smiled as he continued to play. “Yes, I overheard your conversation with Yeonjun about it.”

“You never mentioned that you knew how to play the sanjo gayageum,” Beomgyu said, wondering if he had forgotten.

“Well… I learnt how to so that I could serenade you with this song,” Taehyun admitted. He started to look flustered, his ears looking considerably redder than before, and he slowly wrapped up the piece.

Beomgyu’s head was spinning at the sudden confession, but he forced himself to return to reality. He was tired of acting like a pathetic loser who just wouldn’t learn when to quit pining. “What’s wrong with you, Taehyun? You’re confusing me with all your mixed signals. One minute, you tell me to stop giving you any special treatment, and the next minute, you start playing me music just because I was desperate to hear it again–“

Taehyun looked straight at him with a burning intensity in his gaze, and Beomgyu could no longer bring himself to turn away from the very passionate gaze that he had originally fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Hyung-nim, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I know, I said that it would have been selfish of me to take you away from your duties in the palace, and myself from my duties to the court, but... I realised that it was even more selfish of me to think that I could impose what I thought was the better choice onto you.” He glanced briefly towards the door, smiling sheepishly. “Well, it wasn’t just me… Soobin and Hyuka helped me in coming to that conclusion.”

“Since we were young, I kept pushing my own feelings for you away because I had always been taught that it wouldn’t be right for me to have you to myself… that I should be completely satisfied even if you weren’t mine, as long as I could can serve you in the court. That way, I could still fulfil my duties while being in your presence. I thought I was happy to just be born in the same time period as you if it meant that I could at least meet you. But I was completely wrong.”

Taehyun had moved aside the instrument gently, and shifted closer to the other such that their knees were touching. Beomgyu felt his warmth radiating from the contact despite the cloth between them, and his face only grew hotter when Taehyun reached out to grab his hands with both of his own, squeezing them so tightly that Beomgyu was rendered immobile. Was this really happening?

Taehyun finally came clean, bearing his soul to the other. “Hyung-nim, with every passing day, I felt like I was born in the wrong period because everything prevents me from loving you freely. But it never stopped my heart from growing fonder of you each day, to the point that are the only thing that drives me on. I won’t let us be torn apart by the circumstances anymore. I was too cowardly to say anything, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. If you hate me now…” he muttered, expression visibly drooping out of fear and remorse.

Beomgyu sighed fondly. “Taehyun, you really are an idiot. I can’t ever hate you. Nothing can stop you from loving me as much as you want, because I was already yours a long time ago. You’re not the only one who’s scared of what’s to come – I am too. But the reason why I’m so calm is because I know that when I’m with you, we can get through anything together.”

The spark returned to Taehyun’s large, cat-like eyes. As they had been spilling their honest feelings to one another, the scholar had been leaning in closer, till their faces were barely inches apart, and Beomgyu could almost feel Taehyun’s breath caressing his nose. Second by second, the physical gap between them was dwindling, and the societal division between both men, one being the crown prince and the other a scholar, was crumbling through their sheer dedication towards one another.

This was the closest that Taehyun had ever dared to breach Beomgyu’s personal space. Beomgyu subconsciously held his breath, fearful that any misstep would shatter the revolutionary progress that both of them were making.

“Beomgyu hyung-nim… is it okay if I kiss you?” Taehyun whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he moved to breach the distance between their lips.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that since forever,” Beomgyu said, reaching up to pull the other closer.

And at that moment between them, they were not defined by their royalty or commoner status, but were just two individuals swept up in a passionate, unbridled romance.

XI.

Instead of their usual daytime escapades, this time both of them had left the palace after sundown following Taehyun’s request for them to attend a festival that took place during the night time. He had been so enthusiastic about wanting Beomgyu to experience the sights that the older man couldn’t help but get swept up in all the excitement. Beomgyu knew nothing about it other than its name, it being the Nakhwa Nori festival, but Taehyun had assured him that he would love it, and that was the only confirmation that Beomgyu needed.

Beomgyu was already over the moon with ecstasy that Taehyun had broken out of his shell. With the way that Taehyun addressed him with unbridled fondness and took initiative with planning most of their meetings, it was clear that the scholar, too, had been withholding his feelings for Beomgyu all this while, and Beomgyu didn’t feel at all hesitant about whether the younger man was forcing himself to reciprocate his feelings.

Both of them were immersed in their new life as young sweethearts. They had happily patronised a majority of the food stalls, and Beomgyu groaned from feeling too full. “Taehyun, I’m so stuffed. I don’t think I can eat anything else.”

Taehyun raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly. “Really, hyung? What about your favourite honey cookies? I know a really nice stand just down the road that sells it.”

“… Let’s go,” Beomgyu said firmly, dragging Taehyun by the sleeve, and Taehyun couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at him. They strode down the path together, matching gat-kkeun swinging from their hats.

“This festival has such incredible atmosphere,” Beomgyu said in awe. “I can’t believe I had always missed out on being part of the night crowd while having dinner in the palace.”

“I’m really happy that I was able to bring you here, hyung,” Taehyun beamed, upturned eyes still managing to catch the warm light of the lanterns lining the streets. “I’m even more glad that you seem to be enjoying yourself so much.”

“I always have a wonderful time when I’m with you, Taehyun. But you already know that,” Beomgyu teased.

Despite the prince’s protests, Taehyun insisted on paying for the traditional honey cookies. Beomgyu finally relented, and happily devoured it as they followed the flow of the crowd that seemed to be heading for the village lake in unison.

“Why is everybody crowding around here?” Beomgyu said curiously as they squeezed to the front, stopping to stand right in front of the river bank.

“This is why I wanted you to be here with me, hyung,” Taehyun said as he eagerly waited. “Just hold on for a second.”

Beomgyu patiently waited for it to happen as he finished chewing on his honey cookie. He watched as a couple of villagers fiddled with some tools further down the lake, and before he could even think to ask Taehyun about what they were doing, they had struck a match and tossed it towards the water. In a second, the entire surface of the lake was lit up by falling sparks, glowing a bright amber shade as they rained endlessly, the mirror-like water offering the illusion of a never-ending stream of flames. It looked like a field of miniature fireworks had exploded into colour, and Beomgyu stared at sight before him, completely and utterly enthralled by its beauty.

“Oh my god, Taehyun…” Beomgyu gushed in absolute wonder. “This is so gorgeous.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

Beomgyu turned his head to catch a glimpse of Taehyun’s expression as he watched the sea of sparks, only to be surprised that Taehyun was smiling affectionately at him, full of warm and tenderness. Oh, Beomgyu realised, as he met eyes with Taehyun, his orbs catching the glow from the amber showers like they contained gold flecks, or even the stars of the universe; Taehyun is mesmerising.

“Hyung… I really do love you.” Taehyun confessed. He reached out to brush Beomgyu’s hand with his, gentle and comforting. “I promise, I will always be by your side, no matter what comes to try and tear us apart.”

Beomgyu grinned, tears springing to his eyes. “I love you too, Taehyun. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care whether we are staying in the most expensive palace, or in a simple hut. You will always be the home I have been searching for.”

XII.

“We are gathered in the court today to discuss Crown Prince Beomgyu’s future ascent to my throne…” the King, Beomgyu’s father, begun droning on with the usual formalities that commenced the daily discussions within the Royal Court. Beomgyu was sat on his throne placed a short distance away from his father’s, and both of them overlooked the sea of officials who were standing neatly in the hall below a long row of steps, heads bowed politely and hands tucked in their sleeves following the proper decorum.

Beomgyu locked eyes with Taehyun, who was standing amongst the crowd of officials from the Ministry of Rites. The scholar subtly nodded, and that was all the confirmation that Beomgyu needed in order to muster up his courage for what was about to come. If there was ever a time that he needed to stand up for what he truly wanted in his life, instead of constantly succumbing to the wave and ebb of his duties, it would be now.

“In preparation, his Royal Highness should definitely get engaged soon,” one older official suggested from the floor.

His father nodded, turning to look over at the crown prince. “That’s right. Beomgyu, how was the meeting with the Princess a couple of weeks ago?” he inquired.

Beomgyu swallowed his hesitance down, sitting up as he spoke. “I don’t like her, and I never will. I… already have full intentions to be in an established relationship with somebody else.”

The giant hall was filled with hushed whispers as the officials turned to stare at one another in surprise at the unexpected news, and began eagerly discussing the possible identity of his suitor. Even his father leaned closer to him upon hearing that, his eyebrows raised and expression perfectly encapsulating the perfect look of confusion.

“And who may that be?”

It was all a blurry haze of events – in an adrenaline rush, Beomgyu arose from his seat and rushed towards the officials standing below the thrones. The once neat squadron-like formation rapidly dispersed in shock as he zoned in towards Taehyun, the only person he would ever have tunnel vision for. He reached out and grabbed Taehyun’s already outstretched hand, and was once again calmed, yet driven by the encouraging smile that Taehyun was flashing at him, his eyes twinkling from the fiery orange lamps as if subconsciously seeking to encourage Beomgyu.

And so he continued. “The person I love is Scholar Kang Taehyun from the Ministry of Rites. If you are all so disgusted with the way I choose to love, then, if it means that I can be together with Taehyun, I will voluntarily relinquish my royal status and become a commoner immediately.”

Horrified gasps resounded throughout the room like an appalled choir in unison, and the most senior officials looked especially scandalised by the news. Beomgyu knew it had to be them, the audacious lot who had told Taehyun to stay away from him, and he seethed internally. The rage only spurring him on further, and held onto on Taehyun’s hand, who remained by his side, steadfast in their cause.

“Your Majesty! How– How could this be?!” one incensed official fell to his knees in an over-dramatic fashion.

“This is blasphemous!” Another spluttered. “You can’t possibly allow him to go ahead like this! What about our nation?”

Beomgyu spun around to glare at him, eyes boring so deeply into his soul that it could have pierced him. The official scrambled back under his intense gaze. “Why does the nation matter more than the person I want to spend the rest of my life with? The kingdom means nothing if Taehyun won’t rule it by my side.”

Yet another official bowed towards the thrones. “Your Majesty, please seize your anger… I’m sure His Royal Highness has just been influenced by the wrong company, with how much he leaves the palace…”

This time, Taehyun stepped forward, shielding Beomgyu with his other outstretched arm. “That’s not true. His Royal Highness is one of the most brilliant minds within the palace, and I only want to give him everything that he wishes for. So if he wants to leave the palace because he no longer feels comfortable here, I will follow him wherever he goes.”

Beomgyu finally dared to look back at the thrones. “Well, Father?” he said, demanding for an ultimatum.

His father, who had been silent all his time, expression now unreadable, finally spoke. “Scholar Kang Taehyun, is it?” he clarified, looking straight at Taehyun.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Taehyun bowed, still wanting to maintain respect for the King.

“You’re the scholar who joined the palace at such a young age, aren’t you? The one who passed the gwageo examination with flying colours.” Beomgyu’s father said, realisation slowly dawning on him. “I remember reading your letter to the court regarding improvements to our economy, and I was very impressed with your suggestions.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Beomgyu waited for a “but”, not letting his guard down just yet. His grip on Taehyun’s hand only tightened as if the other was the only thing tethering him to the world that was spinning out of control before his very eyes.

His father sat back in his throne, face seeming pleased, or perhaps even satisfied. Instead of lashing out with overt anger at Beomgyu’s sudden confession, and demanding for him to leave the palace to live by the borders in exile, he said, “You don’t have to leave the palace. I think Scholar Kang will be a good match for Beomgyu. He’s down to earth, and has clearly proven himself at understanding the inner workings of our kingdom. He will be a good guide for you, Beomgyu, as he always has been by tutoring you.”

Beomgyu was shell-shocked. “Father? Am I hearing you right?”

“Yes. What does the court think? Although, that will not really change my mind. Beomgyu’s siblings are also betrothed to their own wives, so I don’t see any issues with continuing the Choi bloodline.” Well, of course the King would be concerned with future grandchildren, but Beomgyu didn’t care too much about having that responsibility being passed to his brothers. He looked out at the other officials.

Some scholars stepped forward to speak. “Well, this is unprecedented, but I agree. I think Scholar Kang will be a good role model for His Royal Highness, and will lead him down the right path in handling political matters.”

“Yes,” Another said. “Scholar Kang has indeed proven himself many times during his work, and swift ascent to the court. It’s unlikely that he was overly distracted by his newfound affection for His Royal Highness, and will continue to work for the country.”

Slowly, members of the court began to change their minds, and mostly started nodding, coming to a consensus on the fact that Taehyun would be good partner for Beomgyu in helping to run the kingdom in the future. While there were undoubtedly still a few officials who were sceptical about their relationship, Beomgyu wasn’t bothered – the outcome had been heading down a far better route than he had expected. Him and Taehyun were completely prepared to start fleeing from the castle, but it didn’t matter as long as they were beside one another. 

“Thank you, everyone.” Beomgyu said, breathing a sigh of relief. “And thank you, Father.”

Taehyun was smiling at him with affectionate eyes, open-mouthed grin clearly displaying his delight. Though they were surrounded by hundreds of officials, and even the King himself, everyone else except the two of them faded away like background characters, and it was like both of them were the only two people in the world – though, that had always been the case in Beomgyu’s mind.

There was no better event to wrap up the day than spending the night together in Beomgyu’s private hanok, a place filled with many special memories of their once budding relationship. Taehyun’s arm was around Beomgyu’s shoulders as the crown prince nestled warmly against his chest, both of them admiring the stars in union from the darkness of their room.

“I still can’t believe that this is reality,” Beomgyu whispered. “My Father, finally accepting me for who I am and what I want to do with my life, and the fact that you’re completely willing to be with me.”

Taehyun chuckled softly. “You already know that I would follow you to the ends of the Earth, hyung.”

Beomgyu sat up and looked at him with a sly grin. “Hey, now that everyone knows that we’re together, don’t you think you can drop the formalities around the palace officials?”

Taehyun blinked. “But I’m already calling you ‘hyung’, hyung… and no way, they’ll only think that I’ve become complacent in my duties.”

“Stop talking about the palace duties already! Do you know how angry I was every single time you told me that you prioritised them over my feelings?” Beomgyu whined, half-joking, but also taking the opportunity to air out his previous grievances.

Taehyun looked like a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry, Beomgyu hyung…”

“Call me Beomgyu,” the crown prince assured him. “We’re lovers now, so why are you so shy, Tyun?” he teased.

“… Beomgyu…”

“See, that wasn’t so hard!”

“… hyung…” Taehyun added sheepishly.

Beomgyu leaned back with a huff. “Oh, whatever, with my persistence, you’ll be calling me Beomgyu in no time.”

Taehyun reached out to embrace him in a tight hug from the back, head dipping into the crook of his neck. It burned where his chest was resting against Beomgyu’s back. “I’m so grateful that I was born in the same dynasty as you, because I was able to meet you, fall in love with you, and spend time with you for the rest of eternity. If you want the galaxy for yourself, I promise I will put it in your hands.”

Beomgyu chuckled gently, heart stirring at the ever-familiar words of Taehyun’s earnest love confession. Just like his devotion, it remained unchanged since all those years ago. He turned around slowly, and cupped the soft cheeks of a surprised looking Taehyun in his hands. Beomgyu gazed into Taehyun’s eyes, bright, sparkling and radiant, as if he was beholding the person of his desires with the most gratifying admiration no other lover would have be able to reproduce.

“But I already have my entire universe in my arms.”