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There are few times in Jisung 's life when he wishes he was anywhere but home.
He doesn't hate the castle for he knows the castle is his rightful place. It's the way too many people roaming around, every second in every hall that never sits right with him. Especially tonight when everyone deemed important enough will arrive at the capital to attend Jeno's wedding, after four years of excruciating engagement.
And speaking of the wedding, Jisung doesn't know what to feel.
The wedding is crucial for the realm. It would strengthen their house and Jeno's claim to the throne.
But while the rest of the kingdom is busy preparing for the lavish feast and tourney, Jeno has spent the nights drinking and whoring himself to death, dreading his wedding day to come.
His brother speaks only in riddles and songs when he's drunk. Those riddles and songs have only become darker and sadder as the celebration gets closer.
Jisung worries if he would even consummate the marriage. What would Mother do then?
With his head full of grim thoughts, Jisung heads to the royal stall. Maybe this time he can ride far enough to circle the whole capital before supper.
That's when he spots an unfamiliar boy, standing and staring in front of a big open window. The boy is too well-dressed for a servant, but too scrawny to be a knight. The brown hair and brown eyes frame a slight hollow cheeks. The shouting of squires training in the backyard brings a wide smile to the boy and Jisung realizes who he is.
"Sungchan."
Jisung should have recognized that doe-eyes and smile everywhere. The boy jumps at his voice. He clearly didn't sense Jisung's presence.
A trait of incapable fighters, Jeno's voice echoes inside his mind .
"Your Highness…" Sungchan takes a step back, seemingly putting strength on his long arms and legs.
He wonders if Sungchan is scared. He should be. His house has defied the King's order to send their soldiers against the rebellion at the North Gate. They should fear the throne's wrath, fear its vengeance. Then again, perhaps Sungchan only feels uncomfortable talking with a childhood-friend-turned-stranger.
"I thought you'd be arriving on the morrow," Jisung says as he walks closer to Sungchan.
The young lord doesn't answer. Jisung notices that he is staring at Jisung's bandaged right arm. He hurt himself sparring with Lord Taeil this afternoon.
Jisung quickly hides his right hand. "What were you doing, looking through the window?"
Sungchan's face flushes red. His brown eyes turn wider and he bites his lips.
He's handsome.
His train of thoughts halts when he realizes Sungchan has fled the scene.
Jisung looks out the window, wondering what Sungchan was looking at. Outside he finds a group of young squires training, most likely for the tourneys. One of them is bare-chested, a lean boy with strong arms and ivory hair.
The squire looks up and their eyes meet. The squire quickly averts his gaze once he realizes it is the prince up there.
Jisung raises his eyebrows and a rather new hollow forms inside his chest.
"Ser Suh, who is that squire?" Jisung asks the kingsguard the next day.
"Which one, my prince?"
Jisung points lightly with his finger, the ivory hair boy, standing and talking under a tree with none other than Sungchan Jung.
"I believe that would be Ser Shotaro Osaki," Youngho answers.
Jisung nods. He's still staring at the two boys, exchanging laughs. The sight doesn't please him at all.
"Why haven't I seen him before on tourneys?"
"I believe he has been here before, once or twice. Young Lord Osaki is rather a shy-mannered fellow, with few to no words."
Shotaro Osaki leans over to whisper into Sungchan's ears and the tall man laughs. Jisung's grab on his sword tightens.
"I see…"
The more logical part of his brain, the calmer one questions why he is agitated by the fact that Sungchan has a friend, many friends, among the fellow young lords. Maybe because the fact that the Jisung himself, despite being the prince, never feels like he has a place among the next generation of lords.
Surely that's why.
At least Sungchan is- was kind to him once upon a time.
A day before the tourney, Jisung's feet unknowingly bring him to where Shotaro's is sparring with another squire. Sungchan has stopped his own training and is watching them with full attention from the side.
"Lord Osaki," Jisung tries to put on a amiable smile.
"My prince," Shotaro bows to him. He isn't bare-chested like the other day, but he only wears a thin shirt wet with sweat.
"Would you be so kind as to spar with me once?" Jisung demands. "I heard I have much to learn from you."
"Prince Jisung-" Sungchan has invited himself to the scene, tensed up. "
Shotaro changes unsure look with the other lord, but Osakis are not one to shy away from challenges.
"Of course, Your Highness." Shotaro nods.
"Taro-" Sungchan protests. He looks at Jisung, agitated and even annoyed perhaps. Jisung feels like he's being accused of folly.
"What's wrong?" Jisung dares him. "It's just one spar. You should be our referee."
Sungchant's face hardens while the two men quickly get into fighting position and their swords start dancing with each other.
Shotaro isn't an easy opponent. Clearly he has trained his whole life to become a fearsome knight. He would have made a fine royal guard, had he not been the heir to his house. In the future, he would become a good and loyal comrade for Sungchan.
And that mere thought makes Jisung's chest hurt.
"Watch out!" Sungchan warns as Shotaro leaps upon Jisung with swift yet strong movements.
The prince swings his sword to counter but Shotaro overpowers him and strikes his armored chest. Jisung falls on the ground with a loud thud.
"Your Highness- yield!" Sungchan shouts from the side. Jisung pays him no attention. He gets up, despite feeling sharp pain on his injured side and launches an attack.
"Yield!" Sungchan's voice becomes louder, attracting attention from the squires around them. "Yield, my prince!"
Shotaro looks confused as to why Jisung won't listen to the referee. However, he couldn't afford to stop his attacks as Jisung still comes at him with all his might.
"Jisung!!" Sungchan has had enough. Gasps are heard as the young lord catches both wooden swords and stops the match.
Jisung groans in displeasure and falls to the ground as Sungchan pulls away his sword from his weakened grasp. Shotaro hastily comes to Jisung's aid and helps him to get up.
"What have you done?" Jisung scoffs at Sungchan and flees the training ground, very aware of all pairs of eyes on his pathetic figure.
There is the wedding, then there is the bedding.
Both are awfully gloomy events; Jisung is too happy when they are over.
Then there's the tourney.
Sungchan finds him sitting at the end side of the royal box, and an empty seat beside.
He could hear Sungchan taking a deep breath and putting on a sweet look before sitting next to Jisung. Jisung opens his mouth to say something- mostly a protest, but Sungchan speaks his words first.
"You are too wounded to spare with Shotaro."
Jisung closes his mouth and averts his gaze back to the field. "I wasn't losing. There was no need for me to yield."
"A good soldier knows when to retreat," Sungchan replies.
"I'm no soldier, I'm a prince."
Sungchan sighs. They then watch the knights parading on their horses in silence
"I find the prince sweeter when he's quiet like this," Sungchan finally breaks the silence after two rounds. "And I find him a skilled swordsman. One day, you could as well win a tourney."
That's a praise, Jisung assumes. "Thank you."
Sungchan bites his lower lips. "You know I care about you, Jisung. I would hate to see you further injured."
"Of course." Jisung nods. "I'm still the third in line for the throne."
Sungchan laughs which startles Jisung. "After what has been happening, you still presume I care about the throne."
Jisung's face turns gloom."I'm part of the-"
"The only good part about it."
Jisung finds himself thinking if Sungchan would take back those words if he confesses that the only reason for that foolish spar is because he envies. He envies Shotaro- no, he envies anyone who has a place next to Sungchan.
Not above, nor below.
Right next to Sungchan.
"Would you go to war for me then?" Jisung whispers, hoping Sungchan wouldn't catch his words. "Not for my father or Jeno. For me?"
Sungchan's smile disappears.
I thought so.
Jisung rises up from his seat, prepared to leave when Sungchan's hand stops him.
"If you would share my bed with me for the rest of our lives-" the young lord takes a deep breath. "I would burn the world. For you."