Chapter Text
“Stop pacing around,” Dowoon barked at Wonpil as he sat with his legs crossed on the couch. He was received by Wonpil just a while ago, never said a word and just started pacing to and from the door. He glanced at Dowoon for a moment, and bit his thumb when the walking didn’t calm him down.
Dowoon sighed. Wonpil was only doing this when he was overwhelmed by something, and he rarely gets overwhelmed.
“What is it about?” He asked, his voice louder than before, but not too loud so no one would hear them. Wonpil stopped abruptly, and then looked at him, his brown eyes flashed something that worried Dowoon.
He and Wonpil had been friends since he could remember. They were there for each other from the moment they first knew how to read up until now. They were even together during the calling of their designations—and he knew so much how he hated his designation, and still he never saw that flicker in Wonpil’s eyes. It looked of betrayal. Of rage.
“An envoy from Zeren came,” Wonpil told him, “along with a marriage proposal from its emperor.”
Wonpil summarized it so clearly that Dowoon’s jaw was left hanging for a moment. When Wonpil went back to walking, Dowoon cleared his throat, trying to compose himself.
“It’s our duty to marry, so what of it?” He asked. Wonpil groaned and formed fists in the air. Sign that he was really enraged.
“Can’t you see? My parents welcomed someone who will steal the throne from them, that when they have a son who is capable!”
“But you possibly can’t,” Dowoon told him matter-of-factly. He knew every sacrifice Wonpil did to be deserving, and Dowoon wished he could rule, but everyone knew he can’t. And so, he had to put him in place. “You are not an alpha.”
Wonpil sighed, defeated. And, feeling his legs giving up from too much pacing, he started to make way to the couch in front of Dowoon. “I just want to keep what is ours.” He drank the tea that was meant for him, even though cold. He shuddered in result, but kept talking. “I just want them to see that I can do politics even with my designation.”
“But you can’t,” Dowoon told him, his voice unwavering. “Your parents might have other reasons, but maybe they knew that you will be safer when you are not concerning yourself with the matters of the state.”
“I hate them,” Wonpil spat. “I hate you.”
“You can hate me forever, but we are just here to protect you.” Wonpil said nothing, and so he continued. “Look, our country is small, and very much conservative. Picture it, Wonpil, how the alphas of every household would react if you step to the throne. Picture it, and then hate me if what I see is not what you see.”
Wonpil cannot look him in the eye, because he knew he and Dowoon had the same picture in their heads. A threat, and then, if he is still unmoved, a revolution. Alphas are greatly territorial, and the throne is their territory. They will never respect an Omega sitting on the throne. Not in his time, and not ever.
He hated his family for not standing by his side and telling the nation he can be and will be their next ruler, despite retributions, as he knew his father can make them accept their fates with just a word. But then, what of him when his father dies? It is what Dowoon wants him to see, and he hates the man for it. But more than that, he hates himself, because he cannot do anything to change his fate. He hates himself for being a powerless omega.
“I hate you so much that if ever this proceed to engagement, I will root you from your family’s embrace so you can serve me as my subject.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Wonpil glanced at him. Dowoon was already at his feet, bowing. But when he raised his head, he had this smirk in his face that said, of course I won’t leave you there, you idiot.
• • •
“How did they take it?” Sungjin was sitting in his study, looking at the proposal that he had personally written, now bearing the seal of the heads of Hedros, beside his. The lead of the envoy, Duke of Sontov, hummed.
So there were no reservations.
“The Hedran emperor gladly accepted your proposal, Your Majesty.”
“And the prince?”
“He wasn’t in the throne room when we arrived,” he explained. “He must’ve heard from his parents after, and he also—”
“He hates it.”
“What?”
“I gather the prince hates the proposal,” Sungjin sat back, already exhausted. It wasn’t seven in the morning, still, it made him want to go back to bed.
He knew Wonpil enough to know he wouldn’t want to get married to a stranger from another country. Well, not that they were strangers—they have seen, talked and danced with each other for three times already.
The Duke chuckled. “He should be thankful Your Majesty is marrying an Omega—”
“Thank you. You can go now, Jaebeom.”
“Of course,” the Duke replied, and if his ego was bruised, he didn’t show it. He bowed and gracefully exited the room.
Sungjin groaned, frustrated. He specifically instructed them to tell the prince personally, but he didn’t know that the duke was such a conservative. Now, it was as good as a done deal between countries, without even Wonpil, the man he wanted to marry, agreeing to it. He could’ve just gone there so he could personally talk with him and tell him what he had planned, see the prince’s reaction even if it will inevitably hurt him, but he cannot make the time. And he knew he would regret it longer than Wonpil’s understandable hate towards him.
I don’t want him to hate me, he told himself as he sulked in his chair.
“Why are you sulking?” When Sungjin looked up, he saw Younghyun leaning by the door.
The man was the only person he had interactions with as a child, as a brother and as a friend. Sungjin always looked up to him, knew he loved him always, but lately he’s been hard to trust.
“Does it concern you?” he asked back and sat straight before holding a letter. Younghyun rolled his eyes and stood up straight, dusting off his coat.
“Look at you, sulking again,” he replied. “Have you broken your fast?”
“No.”
“Do you want to eat with me?”
“I’ll eat later.”
He heard Younghyun sighing. “What is the problem?” He started walking toward him, slowly. “Is it about the marriage the council was pushing to the table?”
Sungjin pursed his lips. Younghun asked again, “Are you seriously considering it?”
Sungjin looked up at him. He doesn’t want Younghyun to know how the envoy went, or even that there was an envoy at all. He knew exactly how Younghyun moves, he knew once Younghyun realizes he would marry and sire an heir and push Younghyun down the line, his brother would do something to stay in his place. Maybe he would do worse than he could ever imagine.
“I will discuss it in the upcoming meeting.” He replied in the end. It was inevitable, he knew, but he needed more time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to hear my advice now?”
Sungjin sighed, and started writing a reply to what he was reading. “I don’t think I need any advice now. Especially from you.”
“You wound me, brother,” Younghyun’s voice sounded hurt, but he chuckled after when Sungjin didn’t react. “Alright, I’ll stop and see you at supper.”
“See you at supper.” The reply was dry, but Younghyun didn’t comment on it.
Younghyun walked out, fuming. Sungjin had been tight-lipped since he rose into power and he didn’t want it. It doesn’t feel right when there is something he didn’t know, like everything was out of control.
The council meeting will be in the next full moon as scheduled, and if Sungjin really had someone in his mind, then maybe a week after the meeting, as tradition, a soiree celebrating the engagement will be held. And if he didn’t act now, it will be too late.
He went straight to his own study, skipping breakfast, and called for one of his captains. As each alpha member of the imperial household is financing the army, and being the king meant financing at least 80 per cent of their forces, it might mean that Sungjin holds most of the army, including the general, but Younghyun is financing at least a battalion per year. He made sure it was the same battalion he was financing every year, and made sure the captains knew it was because of him they and their families were even breathing.
“You called for me, Your Highness?” Captain Choi Youngjae stood inside his chambers, bowing, and the guard that carried Younghyun’s order left without a word. Younghyun motioned for the captain to sit, and he did.
“Captain, I know you are busy so I’ll cut to the chase. I need something from you.”
“You can tell me, Your Highness.”
Younghyun poured glasses of wine and offered one to the captain, which he took without question. Younghyun sat in front of him, legs crossed, the other glass in his hand. “I want to know if the king already has betrothal in mind. Can you put some intelligence so I would be informed who the lucky omega is?”
“Of course, Your Highness, but is the king keeping this a secret?”
“Oh no, of course not,” Younghyun waves him off, “he told me he would inform us in the next meeting, but I have plans to give a lavish gift to the betrothed, and I think it wouldn’t make in time of the soiree if I learn it later. It should be now. Now Captain, can you do me this favor?”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“I want my gift to be a surprise, so no one could know this. Also, I want you to come back to me in two days.” The captain only nodded. “You can finish your wine, but that will be all. Thank you for your service, Captain.”
The captain, only halfway done with the wine, had withdrew from his seat in an instant, and, as if instinct had bowed to the prince. “The honor is mine, Your Highness.”