Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART ONE

They drive down to Seogwipo on a sunny Saturday morning.

It's rumbly under the wheels of the car. Every time they hit a bump in the road, everything bounces up and down again. Seungkwan kicks his feet happily against the edge of his carseat and giggles when Sojeongie reaches over to tug on one of his feet. She always does this when they're sitting together, trying to snatch up his shoes or his toys or pull her hand back before Seungkwan can take it. "Aegi gyul," she chants, "aegi gyul!"

Seungkwan thinks she's silly. He's not a baby or a tangerine. "Noooo," he whines, and Sojeongie sticks her tongue out at him.

Jinseollie's looking out the window on Seungkwan's other side, not bothered by their playing because she's got her earphones in. In the front, his eomma and appa are chatting quietly. Seungkwan can't tell what they're saying. The music's really loud and Sojeongie won't stop singing along.

Seungkwan wants to sing too! So, he does—and the two of them yell and sing the entire way, until Jinseollie's complaining about them being noisy, eomma, tell them to stop, please? Please, they're so louuuud, eomma.

He doesn't cry when the music gets shut off, but it's a close call. "We're almost there," his eomma soothes, reaching over to rest a hand on his leg. "Who's hungry?"

Seungkwan's a little hungry. He wants a snack. He fidgets with the belts on the carseat while his sisters chatter away about what they're going to have for lunch, and only realises they're here when the car comes to a stop.

Jinseollie and Sojeongie slip out of their seats, moving to grab their bags from the back. Seungkwan buries his face in his eomma's shoulder when she comes over to unbuckle him from his seat. She makes an affectionate noise and adjusts the hood of his winter jacket for him before she sets him on the ground. "Let's go, my baby."

Hmmf. Seungkwan's not a baby. He's already four and a half. But he doesn't say anything, because he likes when his eomma calls him hers.

Their parents have brought them to this part of the island many times over, but Seungkwan hasn't ever looked at it properly before. There are so many shops and so many people and so many cars and so many things to see while they walk.

Like the big mountain up in the sky. The one in his picture book about Jeju-do, with the pretty mermaid-women and the little leopard cats and the funny-looking dol-hareubang. The mountain's name is Hallasan, and the book said that it used to have fire in its belly! It looks a little like a house sometimes. Like a big house with snow on its roof. Maybe there's something living in the big sky-mountain-house.

Seungkwan points, and then looks up at his eomma. "Is someone living there?"

"There is," his eomma says, and Seungkwan's eyes widen. He was right! "That's where the queen lives. In a big palace with lots of cheonhyehyang trees. Right at the bottom of the mountain, see there?"

Seungkwan can't see. But his eomma said it, so it must be true. "A real one?"

"A real one," his eomma confirms. She picks him up as Seungkwan's appa leads his two sisters along, resting him on her hip with ease. "You'll be learning all about her when you get older. Maybe you'll even get to meet her one day."

"What's she do?"

"Hmm. Well, she does lots of things. She takes care of our land and our people. Helps people who need it. Talks to people about how wonderful our island is."

Seungkwan wriggles excitedly in her hold. "I wanna be a queen too," he says. He likes the sound of it. Taking care of all the gardens and orchards and the sea and all the fish in the sea and all the mountains and all the animals who live in the mountains. And helping people—he helps eomma lots and lots at home, especially when appa isn't around. And he loves the island. It's his favouritest place ever. "I can do it!"

His eomma smiles her pretty smile, and kisses his hair. "I 'm sure you could," she says softly. "My brave boy."

Seungkwan curls one hand into the back of her coat, and thinks about tangerine trees and mountain-houses and a lovely queen with his mother's face until he falls asleep on her shoulder.

They drive down to Yongsan-gu on a wet Sunday morning.

Rain lashes against the tinted windows of the Kia Carnival, turning the outside world into a watery unknown. Seungkwan doesn't hear it—he's staring down at the screen of his phone. He wonders if closing his eyes will make the little meeting confirmation written on it go away. Perhaps if he throws the entire thing into traffic, that'll work—

The car jerks to a sudden halt, and Seungkwan almost drops his phone. "Sorry," Younghwan says from the driver's seat, not sounding particularly sorry as he eases back into steady acceleration again. "No one in this city knows how to drive."

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. Younghwan's one to talk. He's the one who taught Seungkwan how to parallel park; Ungjae and Eunbi still haven't forgiven him for it from the last time he'd been their designated driver on their night out.

The phone in his hands lights up again with a new notification.

He eyes it with a healthy amount of dread. It's the reasonable thing to do. No one else in the group has gotten called into the company building on a morning off for a meeting with the CEO and with family members present for reasons unknown besides the fact that there are apparently government officials there to see Seungkwan.

Government officials. And his parents, even though he's been a legal adult for almost a decade at this point. And Lee Jaesang, whom Seungkwan's been in meetings with a handful of times, but always regarding the group as a whole—never something he's done. Or hasn't done.

Seungkwan pinches the bridge of his nose, already feeling a migraine coming on. At least Yeonsoo-hyung had sent him a text saying that he was just as confused about the entire thing, but that he'd sit in just to back him up if he needed it. Having him take a day off his label duties and fly in all the way from Japan just for this—whatever the hell this is—

His mother hadn't been particularly forthcoming either. All Gyehwa had said when Seungkwan had called her in a confused panic was, we'll talk about it when you're here, okay? It's not something to discuss over the phone. I'm sorry, my baby. We'll see you soon.

The KakaoTalk notification remains on his screen, ominous and glaring.

Seungkwan flicks it open. It's not from his mother, or his father, or Yeonsoo, or CEO Lee. It's from Sojeong—and all it says is, sorry kwan-ah. i love you lots.

It's official. It has to be something bad. His sister never apologises for nothing, and with everything going on today that Seungkwan still has no clue about, what else is he supposed to think but the worst?

i'm not getting kicked out of the group right, Seungkwan types, sending it off without hesitation.

??????? Seungcheol sends back after barely a second. what did you do???

nothing talk to you later bye

BOO SEUNGKWAN

The rain's subsided a little, just enough for the streets to start looking familiar as they zip through the city. They're almost at the HYBE building. He can see it looming in the distance, its shadow falling over the buildings like some terrible omen.

"I paid my taxes this year," Seungkwan says, starting to feel the anxiety rise in his chest again. "And last year. And I don't have any driving tickets. And I haven't committed any crimes. Right? I'm not a criminal, right, hyung?"

"Of course not," Younghwan says, making a left turn. "You've never even cyberbullied anyone before, right?"

(imyourbboo: if u dont like the wonder girls u r going to hell!!
Posted 7 November 2011 to Cyworld profile thsutleowkd07)

"Oh god," Seungkwan wails, "I'm going to prison."

Younghwan sighs. "I'll visit you every month."

Seungkwan stops catastrophising out of sheer indignance, shooting him a look through the rearview mirror in response. Wow. His manager-hyung is terrible. At least visit him once a week. Isn't he worth at least that much after all these years together?

He's startled out of his thoughts by the door opening beside him. Younghwan glances over his shoulder, one hand on the wheel. "You'll be fine, Seungkwan-ah," he says, trying to be as encouraging as possible. Seungkwan's grateful for it despite the fact that he's just stopped midway on a pedestrian crossing. "I'm sure it's nothing. Go on, I'll come up once I've parked."

He's waved off, and Seungkwan stands on the sidewalk clutching his bag close as the Carnival makes the turn around the building towards the underground parking. There's still a bit of drizzle, but Seungkwan pays it no mind. There's only one thing on his mind now that he's here—

Time to face the music.

The elevator ride up to the 12th floor is spent psyching himself up and rolling his shoulders back and reminding himself that he's sat in dozens of meetings before. He's met hundreds of industry representatives. He's on a first name basis with half of the press, for God's sake. He's SEVENTEEN's Boo Seungkwan.

"It's nothing," Seungkwan tells himself. "It's probably just a mistake. Maybe it's a prank. Maybe it's for a show. It's nothing major. Think about good things. Think about the coffee you'll get after this. God, I really need a fucking coffee right now."

By the time he's done telling himself to chill out, Younghwan's already made his way up, completely out of breath when he motions towards Seungkwan to go in first.

He opens the door.

The meeting room they've selected is the largest on this floor—a round conference table has been set up as per usual, but there's a separate section with a set of couches for a cosier arrangement.

No one is sitting at the big oval. Instead, they're all seated around the smaller table, and there are only two that Seungkwan doesn't recognise. "Boo Seungkwan?" one of them says. "Great. Let's get started."

"Seungkwan," Yeonsoo says, looking glad. "Come, come and sit down."

He takes it all in as he's beckoned over: Yeonsoo and CEO Lee sitting on one side, his parents on the other—and one seat left open across from the two officials, one man and one woman. They're both dressed impeccably, suits tailored so perfectly that Seungkwan feels underdressed in the long coat and slacks he'd rushed to iron before leaving the house. Up close, he spots matching pins on their lapels—the silhouette of a mountain, and a dash of gold across it.

Hold on. He knows that symbol. He's known it since he was a child.

The woman notices where he's looking, and nods. "You know who we represent, then?"

"I do," Seungkwan says warily, because now he's been thrown for even greater of a loop. "What is this about?" He glances over at the others, who give nothing away. "Do I need to call in our legal team for this?"

"Not yet, although it's a good sign that you're asking questions like that already." The man clears his throat, and leans forward. "I'm Chief of Staff Oh Muyoung. This is Advisor Na Miran. We apologise for the secrecy surrounding this meeting, but considering your choice of career, it was decided that this conversation would be better had here."

"I'm listening. What conversation?"

There's a pause.

"Well," Advisor Na says, exchanging a glance with Chief Oh. She sets her hands on the table, and raises an eyebrow. "How much do you know?"

"Nothing." Seungkwan stares at them. Are they seriously asking him that? "Nothing at all, because no one's explained why my parents are here, or why our CEO is here, or what's going on—I thought I'd committed a crime or something—not that I have, but I mean—no one's told me anything except sorry, and I don't even know what for!"

The officials before him look abashed.

Seungkwan bites the inside of his cheek. "Please just tell me what's going on."

A folder is set gently in front of Seungkwan. The same emblem is gleaming and present on its front cover. "Boo Seungkwan," Chief Oh starts, gentler than before, "we're here under royal decree on behalf of Jeju-guk to inform you that, as the closest 22nd generation descendant of your ancestral clan to the current monarch, you are the heir to the throne."

There's a roaring in his ears. Seungkwan lifts his eyes from the folder and meets his eyes. There is nothing but the truth in his gaze. "The throne," he echoes, not quite hearing the sound of his voice when he says the words.

"The throne," Advisor Na confirms. There's something that almost looks like amusement in her face; Seungkwan wonders if she's enjoying this. "One and only."

"Of Jeju-do," Chief Oh adds. "Over all her people, and her lands and seas."

Oh.

"What," Seungkwan says, staring at the officials—the officials from Jeju-do, representatives of the Queen, apparently—who have sat him down to meet with his parents (Seungkwan will be having Big Words with them later), two company higher-ups, and his manager (who's hovering by the door as if he's ready to give Seungkwan an escape if he needs it) (and he actually might). "Since when?"

"Since—well," Gyehwa says, wringing her hands nervously, "since your sisters abdicated."

Seungkwan's actually going to kill them. He's going to steal Bookkeu away and then kill them. He's never forgiving them for this. "They knew?" Not just that—they knew long enough for them to actually do something about it: a.k.a. not warn their beloved little brother ahead of time. "How long?"

"Not long. A few months," Advisor Na says. "We just spent the last three weeks trying to convince Ms. Sojeong to take it. She refused. You're our last option before—well. You're our only option."

"There are… dozens. Dozens of people from the Boo clan on the island." Seungkwan doesn't believe it. Also, what the hell, Sojeong? She turned it down? She's the one who was obsessed with the royal family when they were kids! "You can't be serious. I can't be your only option."

"You and your sisters are the most direct descendants through the Queen's first son."

"How?" he demands. "That would mean we're related through…" He trails off, turning to look at his father, who won't meet his eyes.

The current reigning Queen of the Kingdom of Jeju, as required by law, must be a descendant of Boo Eulna, as all previous queens have been since the Great Restoration, one of his textbooks had said back in high school. He hadn't paid it much mind at the time, what with dance practices and vocal training on his mind. Hadn't thought it to be that important. Boo Seolla, 20th generation.

Boo Jinyoung, 21st generation.

"But," Seungkwan says, a weird tangle of confusion and hurt warring in the pit of his stomach. "You said—you said grandmother passed away before we were born—"

"It was to keep you safe," his father admits, and Seungkwan is going to have to question every single fact he's ever known about his family up till now. "I never wanted to bring you all into this."

"Unfortunately, it's a little too late for that." Chief Oh looks apologetic. "If you turn it down…"

"We'll put it bluntly," Advisor Na interrupts. "Next in line after your family will put the crown in total ruin within five years of ascension. We'd like to avoid that at all costs."

"Okay, but—I have a career!" Seungkwan glances desperately over at both his CEO and his former VP, wondering why they aren't saying a single thing about this. "I'm a singer. I'm not giving that up to—to become royalty!"

"There's no becoming. You are. If you abdicate, then you'll give that up. But—for all intents and purposes, you are the heir to the throne right now."

"Seungkwan," Yeonsoo begins, "CEO Lee and I think that this is a wonderful opportunity for you. Unexpected, but welcome. The agency will be behind you regardless of what choice you make, but I'm certain we can work things out as they come."

CEO Lee nods towards the officials. "Adjustments can be made," he says casually, and if that isn't just the slimiest thing—Seungkwan knows exactly what he means by that.

He catches Yeonsoo's eye and lifts his eyebrows imperceptibly.

"Depending on Seungkwan, of course," Yeonsoo hastily adds, having gotten the message. He's always been quick on the draw—it's something Seungkwan appreciated while he was still overseeing things here. "We don't have to discuss any matters regarding the group just yet."

Seungkwan breathes. Okay. Alright. One thing at a time. He's not about to have a full-blown breakdown about this in front of everyone in the room. He needs to talk to someone—he needs to speak to his parents alone. His sisters. He needs to talk to the rest of the group.

Oh God. The members are never going to let him live this down.

"I know it's a lot to take in," Advisor Na says, tone a little kinder now, albeit still urgent. "We need an answer soon, but you can absolutely have some time to consider this."

"How much time?" Seungkwan frowns. "Because this isn't something I'm going to be able to decide on in a single day."

"Two weeks," Chief Oh says. "That's the most we can give you, due to the circumstances."

Seungkwan rubs at his eyes. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Two weeks. Two weeks to seriously think about whether I'm going to uproot my entire life to become a prince or something." There's a sudden tension in the air, a pause so tangible it feels like a slap. Seungkwan peeks through his fingers. "What? What am I missing now?"

His mother lets out a soft sigh. "They didn't approach your sisters first because they were older than you," she says. "Traditionally… and you know this from school, but it's always been the daughters…"

"Crown Princess." Advisor Na beams. "The title is non-negotiable."

Chapter Text

PART TWO

"I'm not a princess," Seungkwan croaks in horror. He probably sounds hysterical by now, but he doesn't care. "You're kidding. I don't even know where to start with that. Is that even legal? Am I going to get cancelled?"

Behind them, Younghwan stifles a laugh.

"You wouldn't be the first!" Chief Oh says, sounding far brighter than before. Maybe because he thinks Seungkwan's actually considering going along with this. Which he absolutely hasn't decided yet. It's just a hypothetical, okay. "There have been a couple of male princesses in the line, even if they never took the throne in the end. So, precedent exists. And yes, it's legal."

"It doesn't mean too much, really," Advisor Na says, flapping her hand at him. "You won't have to wear any dresses—there'll be a tiara for formal events, you'll have to follow some old traditions, complete some yearly rituals. Things like that."

"And—this one is a little—well. Normally we'd need you to marry after you take the throne, but, considering the circumstances—you won't be able to marry." Chief Oh winces slightly. "There can only be one Crown Princess. You'll have to adopt, of course, to carry on the line—"

"I can't marry anyone," Seungkwan cuts in, "or I can't marry a woman?"

Chief Oh and Advisor Na glance at each other, having some unspoken conversation with just their eyes. Then, Advisor Na turns back to him and says, "You can't marry a woman."

Seungkwan stares at them. "I'm gay," he says.

Gyehwa sighs. Yeonsoo coughs lightly. His father and the CEO are both sporting matching looks (slight discomfort, a tiny bit of regret, perhaps). Well. It's not like they didn't already know.

"Well," Advisor Na says, looking relieved, "not to say that I expected it, but you don't exactly keep it a secret, do you? That works fantastically in our favour, actually. You do like children, don't you? You'll need to adopt at least two—preferably daughters, of course."

"That's if, of course, you're willing to remain the heir."

Both officials look at Seungkwan with hope in their eyes—far too much to be placing on the shoulders of someone like Seungkwan. He chances a glance towards his parents—Jinyoung seems like he'd rather be anywhere but here. Gyehwa looks tired, but that could just be because she's already had to go through this song and dance with her other two children.

Seungkwan still needs to process that. The fact that they'd kept all of this from him. Not just his father for not telling them for years and years, no—his mother, his sisters. His closest confidants. Why hadn't they said anything?

He hasn't even properly considered what all of this means. What being the heir—God, the fucking heir to Jeju-guk will mean for his personal life and his career and his relationships. Everything he's worked his ass off for. He can't throw it away. He can't leave it all behind for a life he just found out about.

It's too much. He can't do this.

Seungkwan straightens up. "Thank you for meeting with me," he says, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, because he's going to lose his shit otherwise. "The two weeks begin tomorrow, because I'm going to need the rest of today to prepare for this. I want you to send me every single bit of information about what doing this is going to mean, what I'm going to have to do as heir, what I have to give up for this—if I say yes—and this includes everything. It doesn't matter how irrelevant or need-to-know-only."

"It's a lot of information for two weeks." Chief Oh frowns. "We have a brief—"

"I'm not going to ask twice," Seungkwan says, sharper than he'd intended. He needs to get out of here right now, before he blows his top. "Send me everything. Today. I'm sure you have my number already."

Advisor Na just nods. Is that—approval in her eyes? "You'll have it all within the hour," she promises, rising smoothly from the table. "Thank you all for coming today—CEO Lee, Mr. Kim, Mr. Jeon, Madam Jwa, Mr. Boo—"

She turns to Seungkwan and dips her head respectfully. "Your Highness," she says, and Seungkwan has no other response but to blink. Right. They did say he's heir until he abdicates. "I'll leave my number with your manager. Call me if you need to clarify anything that we'll be sending over."

"Understood, thank you," Seungkwan says primly. He rises too, gives a customary bow to the other men, and then turns to his parents. "Can we talk next door for a second?"

"You're the worst sisters on the planet," Seungkwan shrieks, because of course the first thing he'd done after closing the door behind him and his parents was three-way call both Jinseol and Sojeong, who'd picked up immediately. Almost like they'd been waiting to hear from him. "I can't believe you two. You knew for months?"

Sojeong's own screech is loud enough to combat his. "Two months! It was just two!"

"We're sorry, Seungkwan-ah." Jinseol's using her soothing voice, the one she always uses when she's trying to calm him down. It's not going to work today. Seungkwan's ready to stew in the boiling pot of his temper for the next hour, at the very least. "I had to put the girls first, and Seojun-oppa agreed. It would have been too much for them."

"And Sojeong-noona?"

"I can't. I can't do it, Kwan-ah." Sojeong sounds genuinely upset. "The thought of having everyone watching my every move and judging every single thing I do... that's not something I want."

Seungkwan deflates. He's more than aware of what that feels like. "Okay," he says, a little less tensely, "but—you'd get used to it, you really do, and you'd be actual royalty, like you used to imagine—"

"You already know the other reason why I can't. Don't say you don't." There's a sinking silence. "And I'm not like you, Seungkwan-ah. That's why I said no. Because I knew you could."

"Listen," Gyehwa says, stepping forward to take Seungkwan's hands in hers. "You don't have to say yes. Like you said, there are other descendants on the island."

"Yeah, like those chaebol assholes who'll absolutely ruin the island if they gets their claws in the heirship," Sojeong mutters, her voice a crackle through the phone line. "Have you read the brief yet? Did you see who's next in line? You can't let that happen."

Seungkwan splutters, letting go of his mother. "That's not my responsibility!"

"Then just say no," Jinseol says. "You have that right. Just like the two of us did."

There's one person who hasn't said a word yet. Seungkwan looks at his father, who's been quiet the entire time. "I love you a lot," he starts, "both of you. But please understand that I'm still mad that you didn't ever tell us about this. Even if you wanted to keep us safe, whatever that means."

"And I still do." Jinyoung fixes his glasses; his hand is trembling. "If I had my way, I'd tell you to refuse it in a heartbeat. But," he says, sounding far older than he ever has before, "as your father, I'm prepared to support whatever decision you make, the same way we did when you chose this life."

(I'm going to Seoul, he'd told them at age fifteen, determined and confident he'd make it in the end, I'm going to become a singer. I'm going, and you can't stop me.

We'd never stop you, his eomma had said. We love you.)

"I just want to know why." Seungkwan whispers. "Tell me why you never said anything. Why you don't want any of us to do this."

His father hesitates.

It's fine. Seungkwan can wait. It's not like he hasn't spent years of his life waiting around for his father before, anyway. Broken promises, vague answers, fights that echoed up the stairs and under the gaps of their bedroom doors. There's a reason he attributes his upbringing almost entirely to his mother and sisters.

(Not something to dwell on, not right now.)

Eventually, Jinyoung speaks. "I was young, but I knew what living that kind of life meant. I never wanted it. And my mother understood. I just wanted to be normal, and have a family, and let them grow up without the burden of the kingdom on their shoulders."

"Your mother," Seungkwan says. "Our grandmother. The queen."

"The queen," he acknowledges. "It was just… easier to let you all think your grandmother was gone, rather than have you all keep such a massive secret from everyone your entire lives."

"I still don't agree," Jinseol says, and Seungkwan's abruptly reminded that they must have had this conversation already. Without him. "We should have been given a choice."

"Well, the only one with a choice now is Seungkwan." Sojeong's words bring their attention back to Seungkwan, who takes a deep breath. "Just. Don't say no yet, okay? I really do think you could do this."

"Why? Give me one good reason why, noona."

"Because," she says, simple as breathing, "it's your home."

He sends his parents off after being reassured that someone will be driving them to the airport, that their tickets and passports are all settled. That when they land they'd be driven back to their own homes without any fuss; his father to one side of the island, his mother back with her second daughter.

It's definitely not the end of the conversation, but Seungkwan needs time to himself, too. Time to think, time to read.

The next two weeks will be hell. At least they're between tours at the moment, and they're not due to begin comeback preparations for another month. Advisor Na's already dropped off the thickest packet of files he's ever seen, along with the same folder from before that Seungkwan assumes must be the brief.

There'll be meetings with the CEO again. Meetings with the legal team. Meetings with the PR department, and the scheduling team, and their managers. A million things to consider, and he's barely scratched the surface.

Not that Seungkwan's already decided, that is.

Two weeks. He'll take those two weeks. He'll take every single second that they'll allow him.

Seungkwan drops his bag beside him, and lets his head fall back against the seat as the Carnival slowly makes its way back out into the aftermath of the rain. The sun is out, burning bright against the glass. Searing into his vision.

You're the heir to the throne. Crown Princess. Your grandmother is the queen. You're royalty. The queen of the Kingdom of Jeju is related to you, and your whole life is a lie. Princess. You're a princess. Non-negotiable.

Seungkwan says, "What the fuck."

"No one's going to believe this," Younghwan says, taking them home. "Hey, isn't this just like that one American movie with the same lady who was in Interstellar? Y'know, where her dad leaves on the spaceship, and then she thinks he's dead, and then he comes back but she's gotten really old—"

"I should have just gone to prison," Seungkwan mutters.

He shuts himself up in his bedroom the second he gets home. Jeonghan's in his own room, likely watching Netflix or taking a nap. Seungkwan will go to him later, he just—he needs time to sort out his own head first.

The folder from earlier stares up at him from his desk.

Seungkwan settles in, and opens it.

It starts simply enough—it says basically the same thing that they'd told him in the meeting. There's a rundown of who the current monarch is, a short history of the island, and a quick and dirty explanation of his duties. It's things like taking part in state ceremonies, ambassadorial engagements, taking part in councils.

Honestly—it doesn't sound too far off from things Seungkwan already does as an idol. Ceremonies, brand sponsorships, meetings and press conferences. It sounds… almost doable.

And then he moves on to the giant stack of files under the folder, and the tiny maybe in his chest becomes a how in the world do they think I'm fit to do any of this???

By the time he's halfway through, Seungkwan's head is spinning, stuck on its own axis of doubt and uncertainty, round and round and round until it threatens to fall right off.

hyung-ah, he texts Jeonghan and Seungcheol together, opening up the three-person chat group that he hasn't used since the last time he'd needed advice over a mild crisis (turning down an industry senior's request for a date without admitting the real reason why he couldn't). i need to talk to the both of you in person right now. it's serious.

Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol's the first one to call him. "What's going on?" he asks urgently. "You didn't even explain the message from earlier either—are you in trouble with the company?"

"Not the company, specifically," Seungkwan says, and at that moment, Jeonghan knocks on the door. "And not really trouble either—look, just come over, okay? I'm sorry, I just—I really need to talk to the both of you right now. Please."

"I'll be there in ten," Seungcheol promises, and he hangs up.

Jeonghan opens the door, eyes searching over Seungkwan for any sort of visible hurt first, before he asks, "Is this a coffee or alcohol situation?"

"Yes," Seungkwan says, just a little miserably.

Jeonghan decides to take pity on him. "Stay put," he says, leaving the door open. "I'm pretty sure we still have that bottle of wine from the last time Shua came over. You want the stems or the Sanrio mugs?"

By the time Seungcheol arrives, slightly out of breath and still dressed in his home clothes, Jeonghan has Seungkwan all tucked up on the couch and ready to explain what's going on. He's far less dizzy than before thanks to Jeonghan's ministering.

(Something about drinking red wine out of a mug of a yellow dog with a cookie in its hands at eleven in the afternoon does make him feel a little better about how ridiculous the entire situation is, because no matter how strange things get—life with his members is always just a little stranger, in the best way possible.)

"This is going to sound absolutely crazy," Seungkwan begins, and Seungcheol trades a look with Jeonghan as he sits across from them, "but I need you to believe everything I'm about to tell you."

"Go on," Jeonghan says, ever assuring. "We trust you."

Seungkwan takes a breath. "I've just found out that I'm inheriting Jeju-do, and if I don't say yes, the entire island is going to go bankrupt."

He gets two twin stares in disbelief.

"I'm trying so hard to believe you right now," Seungcheol says incredulously. "You're gonna have to start from the beginning."

Seungkwan sets Pompompurin down on the table, and does exactly that.

"You're royalty," Seungcheol says, for the fifth time in maybe the last thirty seconds. He sounds just as flabbergasted as Seungkwan still feels. "What the hell. You're a prince."

Seungkwan's face burns hot with embarrassment. "I'm not," he says weakly. Oh God. He really isn't ever going to live this down. "So. I said the title gets passsed down through the daughters, right?"

"Right. Wait—"

"There isn't a Crown Prince," Seungkwan says. "There's a Crown Princess."

To Seungcheol's credit, he doesn't start laughing immediately—just five seconds later, after Jeonghan's entire face has lit up with glee. "Your nickname came true!" he cackles. "Oh, Carats are gonna love this."

"Aigoo. So cute," Jeonghan coos, and Seungkwan wants to strangle both of them. "So. Do we need to start calling you Your Highness now?"

"Stooooop," Seungkwan whines. "I'm not even kidding when I say that I don't know—I'm still going through the packet they sent, there's so much stuff that I haven't even thought about yet—oh fuck." Seungkwan freezes. "Carats. The group."

The mood in the room grows serious once again. "Are they going to make you leave the group if you say yes?" Seungcheol demands, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. "Like hell they will, over my dead body—"

"I wouldn't agree," Seungkwan says. "Not ever. Not unless they let me keep this. Keep all of you." Jeonghan's hand slides over his, and squeezes it tight, sending warmth through his bones. "SEVENTEEN comes first. Always."

"Always," Seungcheol echoes, the word sounding like a vow in his firm, determined voice. Jeonghan follows suit, continuing to hold onto Seungkwan as he agrees. Not even the rip-tear of a hurricane could pull them apart in this very moment.

Seungkwan loves them so, so much.

The three of them sit in silence, just letting it all sink in, until Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “Shit,” he says, still in disbelief, “you know what that makes us? The first idol group to ever have royalty for a member.”

Jeonghan makes a delighted sound. “Ooh. Just imagine the Q3 financial report.”

“You’re thinking about album sales,” Seungkwan says flatly. “I’m having an existential crisis, and you’re thinking about album sales.”

"We're just making the best of it." Jeonghan pets his har, and stands up from his seat, making for the kitchen with his empty My Melody mug in hand. "I'm going to order food. Seungcheol?"

"Something with chicken in it. Thanks."

Seungkwan watches him go before turning back to Seungcheol, who's looking pensive. "Whatever your decision ends up being," Seungcheol says quietly, "we're a hundred percent with you. You know that right?"

"I know," Seungkwan says, but the uncertainty in his voice gives him away.

"One hundred percent," Seungcheol stresses, eyebrow lifted. "We love you. And we'll keep telling you that no matter how much you think otherwise."

Seungkwan squirms. "Thanks, hyung."

"Say it back."

"Hyung—"

"I said we love you! Say it back!"

Ehehehe, comes Jeonghan's laugh from the kitchen. Hehehe.

"When do you plan to tell the others?" Seungcheol peers at Seungkwan over his open container of rice. "You shouldn't wait too long. I know how you get when you keep stuff to yourself."

"Tomorrow at practice," Seungkwan decides. After a few more good meals, and maybe with enough alcohol after to knock him out until the next morning.

"Hmm." Jeonghan floats past him, quirking an eyebrow up in his direction as he goes. "And there's no one else you want to talk to first?"

Seungkwan narrows his eyes. "No," he says.

Yes, he thinks. Yes. Of course there is.

He waits for Seungcheol to leave and for Jeonghan to retreat back to his room before he pulls his phone out, scrolling down through his contacts list and pausing on one line.

my ddori, the contact name greets.

Seungkwan hits call.

Chapter Text

PART THREE

Hansol picks up on the fourth ring. "Wh'ssuh?" comes his sleepy, hoarse, decidedly I-just-woke-up voice.

"Hansollie," Seungkwan says, unable to keep the fondness out of his sigh. "Did you sleep late again? I thought I told you not to stay up too late last night—never mind, forget about that—I need to tell you something."

Sheets rustle. A soft groan near the mouthpiece, followed by a yawn. "You're not calling just to hear my voice again, are you?"

Seungkwan flushes, twisting his fingers into his comforter. "No," he mumbles, "no, not right now, you're such a—never mind. It's something important. And I just need you to know before I tell everyone else. Because it's important to me that you hear it first, Hansol-ah."

Because you're important to me.

Hansol's silent for a moment. Then, he asks, "Your place?"

He shows up at Seungkwan's door barely fifteen minutes later. Seungkwan hadn't even heard the doorbell chime, but here he is, shuffling into Seungkwan's room in his sleep shirt and sweatpants, looking slightly disconcerted. His bare face is rubbed a little red, as if he'd slapped some water on and roughly dragged a toothbrush across his teeth just to save time washing up. It really shouldn't be this endearing. "Jeonghan-hyung let me in and gave me one of Those Looks," Hansol says, eyebrows furrowed. "Did something happen? What are you telling everyone tomorrow?"

Seungkwan motions for him to sit beside him on his mattress. Hansol does as he's told, waiting patiently for Seungkwan to begin speaking. Even when Seungkwan just fidgets, pushes at his cuticles until they're peeling (his nail tech is definitely going to click her tongue in judgment at him during his next appointment), looks everywhere other than at Hansol—he still just waits, the way he always does.

It's enough to give Seungkwan time to gather the words up in his mouth. To take a breath and say, "I received an email from the CEO today. It was a summons to a meeting with him, Yeonsoo-hyung, my parents, and two government officials from Jeju-do."

Hansol's expression changes from actively listening to genuine confusion. But he doesn't say a word, motioning for Seungkwan to go on.

"It's a really, really long story," Seungkwan says, and he holds the thin folder with its royal seal out for Hansol to take. "But it starts here."

The folder exchanges hands. Hansol runs his thumb over the seal, and then lifts the cover, carefully smoothing over the expensive parchment with its embossed letterhead as he reads.

He doesn't even have to mouth the words. Seungkwan knows what it says in the letter:

{

Wherein the Special Act on the Establishment of Jeju Special Self-Governing Province and the Development of a Free International City provides that the executive government and authority of and over the Kingdom of Jeju is vested in Her Majesty the Queen; and

Wherein the rules governing succession are enshrined within the Udo Treaty on the Restoration of Jeju-guk;

Now, therefore, Her Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Jeju Provincial Council, enacts as follows:

That Boo Seungkwan, 22nd generation of the ancestral Boo clan, as the closest descendant within three degrees of affinity to the current monarch, is decreed the heir to the throne until which time He is irrevocably determined to renounce the Throne for Himself and His direct descendants…

}

Hansol lifts his gaze from the text, eyes wide and startled. "This is legit?"

"Yeah," Seungkwan says. "My parents confirmed it. They've known since before we were born. They approached my sisters first, but both of them turned it down before I could even find out about it."

"How…?"

"The Queen is apparently my grandmother." Seungkwan rubs at his face, mouth curling. He still doesn't believe it, even though he's said it to himself and other people multiple times today. "My very dead grandmother—or, well. I thought she was dead until this morning. Apparently not! Apparently she's been ruling the island that I grew up on for decades! Who would've known!"

Hansol shifts closer to Seungkwan, cutting off the hysterics that are threatening to explode right out of him again. "Wow," Hansol says. "Just. Wow. I have no idea what to say, Seungkwan-ah."

"Say sike, maybe?"

He gets a little laugh from Hansol. "And you found out today, with no warning."

"Mmhmm."

"You're stronger than I am," Hansol says, "because I would've just walked right out."

"You wouldn't have!" Seungkwan shoots back. "But maybe I should've—honestly, I'm just. I'm so lost about it all, Hansol. I'm still trying to process everything, and they gave me two weeks to think about it, and it still doesn't feel like it's enough. And the thing is—"

He pauses.

It's your home.

"The thing is," Seungkwan continues, breath caught in his lungs at the realisation of it, "I think… I might want to accept. Because I feel like… like I could do it, maybe. It's a crazy thought. Like, completely fucking insane. But there's something telling me that I could, maybe. I don’t know. It's just a thought."

"I believe it." Hansol nudges him in the arm. "You're Boo Seungkwan. When have you ever let anything stop you?"

"Well, I don't know—pragmatism?" Seungkwan snarks back. "The reality that I'm not exactly royalty-material? The fact that they could do better and I'm literally only an option because my sisters said no?"

Hansol's expression shutters. "Don't say that," he says, frowning. "You don't know that."

"I do," Seungkwan says. "If they hadn't turned it down—"

"—then you would still be doing everything you could to help them out. You'd fly down to Jeju-do, spend hours arguing with those advisors on their behalf—I know you." Hansol's gaze is relentless and so, so open. Seungkwan can almost believe what he's saying. "I know you, Seungkwan. And I know that you'd be amazing."

He does. He knows Seungkwan better than most. He knows Seungkwan the way Seungkwan knows him—like the thick smell of the first rain in the height of summer, like every groove and furrow in the headboard of his childhood bed, like the sound of his own name in his mouth.

"You're too good to me," Seungkwan says softly, and he reaches up to rub at Hansol's ear. "Thank you for saying all of that."

Hansol stays stock-still until Seungkwan's let his hand fall. "I'm not saying it just because I can," he says stubbornly, just in case it hasn't gotten through to Seungkwan just yet. "I'm saying it because it's true."

Seungkwan's heart feels tight. "Again," he says, "you're too good to me. Even though I've just dropped all of this on you without warning. And woke you up from your nap."

"You owe me another one," Hansol says, and he tugs Seungkwan down, who goes with a squeal. Down onto Seungkwan's bed, where the both of them snort and giggle at the silliness of it all. Face to face, nose to nose, just like when they were kids again. Their own version of a secret handshake. Theirs to know, theirs to keep. "You owe yourself one, too."

His sweet boy. Sweetest boy in the entire world. Seungkwan can't help but smile. "Right now?"

Hansol meows in response.

Seungkwan laughs, and then falls quiet, struck by the seriousness of it all again. "I really hope… I still need to think about all of it, but—if I say yes, I hope that everything will work out. It's going to be a lot—things are going to change—for me, for everyone."

"This won't change who you are," Hansol says, choosing his words carefully, with all the care in the world. "You're still Boo Seungkwan to all of us. To me."

It's the exact thing Seungkwan needed to hear. He tucks himself into Hansol for an embrace, ignoring the wetness behind his eyes, and allows Hansol to hold him close for a long moment. "And you'll be here with me for all of it," he whispers against Hansol's chest. "Right?"

"Always," Hansol promises, his breath a warm tickle against Seungkwan's temple. "As long as you don't let the power go to your head and forget about me when you become royalty."

"Chwe Hansol!" Seungkwan pulls back to smack at him lightly. "I'd never!"

Hansol grins right back at him, all shark teeth and amusement. "That's not very princess-y behaviour," he says, and abruptly, a weird little shiver jolts down Seungkwan's spine at Hansol using the word. "Princess Seungkwan. That's the full title?"

"Crown Princess Boo Seungkwan," Seungkwan murmurs, flushing pink across his cheeks once again. No, no—it's fine. He'll own it once he gets over it. "Or, His Royal Highness when they introduce me to people in public, apparently."

“Crown Princess Boo Seungkwan,” Hansol says, not a single trace of teasing in his words at all, and Seungkwan’s throat dries up. God, not now. Not here, while he's still clinging to Hansol like a pathetic little limpet. “Sounds pretty. Suits you.”

“Shut up,” Seungkwan mutters, choosing to ignore the flush across his own face. “I’m gonna kill my sisters for abdicating before I could even find out. I could’ve just been a normal prince—can’t believe whoever I end up marrying gets to be prince instead—”

“Marry?” Hansol’s voice abruptly pitches higher. “You didn’t say—you have to get married?”

"Uh," Seungkwan says, thoughts spiralling back to the meeting room conversation, "I can't marry a woman, because there can't be two princesses, and it's not like I would've wanted to anyway, like—you know—but. Apparently there's a law that says that it's legal for me to get married to another man, some sort of sovereign immunity—it's complicated, I don't really know. The representatives, they were really onboard with the idea once I said I preferred men. So, yeah. I think I'll have to, at some point."

Hansol's face has become something complicated and unreadable. "Oh," he says, perfectly neutral. Seungkwan resists the urge to narrow his eyes; there's something Hansol isn't telling him. "And you want that?"

"I mean. I've dreamt about it, even before all of this. It would be nice," Seungkwan admits, voice coming out softer than he'd expected, "if I did find someone who wanted to marry me for the right reasons. Who'd be okay with all of this—being an idol singer, being royalty, being me. Someone who likes kids too, because I'd have to adopt to carry on the line, and I've always wanted kids anyway, so they'd have to want that too. And I'd have to love them, and they'd love me too, I hope." Seungkwan pauses, peering at Hansol. "Ddori?"

"Whoever marries you will be the luckiest man on earth," Hansol says, sounding rougher around the edges than before, and there's suddenly something stuck in Seungkwan's throat when he tries to swallow. "And I hope they'll love you as much as I do. More than that."

There are somersaults happening in his chest. Great, leaping bounds against his ribcage, over and over.

(Seungkwan has never allowed himself to acknowledge that weird, charged tension between them that's existed since forever, because he's almost certain that it's entirely his burden to bear. Hansol has made his boundaries clear since they were teenagers: Seungkwan is just his friend.

One of his closest friends, yes. But just a friend.

Not the one who will love Seungkwan the most, in the end.)

The old, familiar ache folds up and tucks itself into its favourite spot behind his heart. Seungkwan smiles, and reaches out to take his hand. "Chwe Hansol," he says quietly, "I don't think anyone is ever going to come close to how much you love me. Except my own mother, probably."

Hansol, unabashed by the privacy of the four walls around them, squeezes Seungkwan's hand tight. "Madam Jwa can have the win anytime."

The moment stretches out, comfortable and sweet. The air-conditioning is cool against Seungkwan's skin; he finds that perhaps he could fall asleep right here, right now. Warm and held. Safe and secure, with Hansol.

There is just one more thing.

"I'm scared," Seungkwan finally confesses, voice tiny and hidden between them.

Hansol pulls him closer. "I'm right here," he promises. "I'm not going anywhere."

The next morning, Seungcheol and Younghwan usher their staff and dancers out of the practice room before sitting them all down on the hardwood floors. Seungkwan catches Younghwan's eye before he slips out of the room to make sure no one else gets in; Younghwan just nods and shoots him a thumbs up.

It'll be fine, he'd said. You know how they are.

Seungkwan takes a deep breath, and explains as much as he can.

The room is silent for a long while. Then—

Soonyoung breaks the ice by falling to his knees with his hands clasped together, yelling, “Your Highness, can you get us better housing please!”

(Yes. Seungkwan does know exactly how they are.)

“And one more car!” Seokmin chimes in, also on his knees. When did he even get on the floor?

“And one more car,” Soonyoung adds. “Also, I think it’s kind of unfair that Seungcheol-hyung only bought one Dyson airwrap when we don’t all live together—”

“That was a personal gift!”

“And am I not a person to you?”

“I mean,” Minghao says, “you’ve spent the last eight years insisting that you’re a tiger, but go off, I guess.”

That only sets Soonyoung off again, and Seungkwan huffs a tiny breath as the decibel count in the room doubles almost immediately.

The entire time, Hansol stands right behind them, a tiny twitch of a smile on his face. No one questions his lack of reaction to the news—for some reason, they all seem to think that it's obvious that Seungkwan told him before the rest of them. Weird.

"Okay. So." Jihoon's the first one to gather his bearings again, leaning towards Seungkwan with a questioning look on his face. "You're sure about it? That you're going to say yes?"

"No," Seungkwan says honestly. "I'm not sure. Not yet. But—there's a part of me that wants to. And I know it'd change a lot of things, with us and the team—but after talking to the hyungs, and talking to you guys… I think we could do this. If I say yes."

"You can do this," Joshua emphasises, the same quiet kindness lining his eyes the way it always does when he's reassuring Seungkwan. "We'll just follow along on this ride with you. The way any of us would if something this crazy happened to anyone else in the group."

"And of course it was Seungkwan-hyung," Chan says with all the unaffected confidence in the world. "Didn't we vote him 'Most Likely To Accidentally Become The Main Character In A Romcom (But For Real)' like, four group dinners ago?"

Seungkwan eyes widen. "It was all your fault! You manifested this into being!"

"No it wasn't! I voted for myself!"

"Lee Jungchan!"

"Get off me!"

"Once again, Apollo throws down the dodgeball of prophecy," Hansol gamely says, a safe distance away from the chaos.

The door opens, cutting off all the noise with a loud squeak of its hinges. Younghwan's standing there, looking apologetic and worried all in one, and Seungkwan's heart fucking sinks straight through his stomach.

"What?" Mingyu asks, catching on just as quick as Seungkwan had. "What is it?"

Younghwan brandishes his lit phone screen at them, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he hurries over. "I don't know who leaked it, I swear, it wasn't me or any of the staff, they didn't know until it started to hit all all the news portals—"

In that moment, Seungkwan hears nothing as he takes the phone from Younghwan's hand. Not a single overlapping voice of his members as they start questioning his manager, not a single sound beyond the soaring white noise in his ears.

{

Exclusive: The New Heir to the Kingdom of Jeju?

In a shock reveal, sources close to the throne have revealed that Her Majesty Queen Seolla of the Kingdom of Jeju has begun her search for a successor.

Reports began to surface earlier this year regarding the self-governing province's succession plans. According to well-placed sources, there have been suggestions that the Royal Secretariat has approached several members of the ancient Jeju Boo clan (濟州 夫氏) regarding their acceptance of the heirship.

Currently, sources note that the Queen's eldest son's (Boo Jinyoung, who disappeared from the public eye nearly three decades ago) daughters (Boo Jinseol, Boo Sojeong) may be under consideration as successors to the throne. Confirmation has yet to come, but our unnamed sources seem to strongly support the case that it will be the Queen's second eldest granddaughter who will eventually take over her role.

Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan, member of idol group SEVENTEEN…

[Read More About The Current Royal Family]

The Crown is yet to provide an official response to any queries from our Editor's Desk…

}

Seungkwan's breath catches. "Sojeongie."

The thought of having everyone watching my every move and judging every single thing I do, she'd said, voice hesitant and uneasy. That's not something I want.

Jeonghan's voice is muted as he speaks, one hand on Seungkwan's shoulder. "Looks like your two weeks are up, Seungkwan-ah."

Chapter Text

PART FOUR

98z vs the world
(6 members)

eunbi
so were you like
just never gonna tell us that you were royalty
or what
i thought we were best friends kwan-ah

bin
speak for yourself you still haven't told him about the thing with ***

eunbi
SHUTTTT UPPPPPP
about to delete this group tbh

suji
[sticker attachment]
about to leave this group tbh

ungjae
pls don't i'm scared
i need someone nice to stay in here with me

bin
literally me
i'm the one who recruited u
[sticker attachment]

suji
forget him
u are safe now my sweet child

yewon
everyone calm down, i'm sure he didn't mention it for a good reason
seungkwan?

seungkwan
i didn't know

ungjae
tf
what do you mean you didn't know

seungkwan
i found out two days ago
[two reactions]
i didn't even know my grandmother was alive. or that she's the queen
and now everything's fucked because the press think it's my sister
but i haven't even told the queen's advisors that i'll do it

eunbi
YOU'RE DOING IT

yewon
oh my god wait what

bin
what do you mean you're doing it
what are we missing here

seungkwan
my sisters abdicated so they're ineligible
whoever leaked the news to the press doesn't know that
they don't know that it's me
i'm the heir
[five reactions]

yewon
that's crazy. you're not just royalty you're like
mia thermopolis
if she was real and also kpop

ungjae
who
[three reactions]

eunbi
you're on thin ice, ungie

ungjae
i'm scared again

bin
right. emergency meeting at suji and hyungwoo's
see you all in 30

suji
just told oppa to put the coffee machine on xoxo

yewon
[sticker attachment]
[siren emojis]

seungkwan
i love you guys so much
[five reactions]

binnie binnie, seungkwan

so
does vernon know yet?
what am i saying. of course he knows

why does everyone keep saying that

i'm your best friend do you really need me to explain

hmmph

ㅋㅋㅋ
so, your royal magnificent most glorious highness
have you asked them for a meeting yet?

stop it
and yes
right after i got home
they didn't seem too surprised
i don't know how to feel about that

they sound like they know what they're doing at least

i don't trust them
yet
but we'll see

you'll get them on your side soon enough
it's part of that boo seungkwan charm

i'm more worried about the queen than anything else, honestly

damn. yeah.
do you know if you'll get to meet her?
before everything

dunno
i'll ask them but i doubt it… my sisters didn't meet her
i don't even know if she'll like me
what if she hates me
what if my own grandmother hates me bin-ah

calm down
she's going to love you, okay?
you're easy to love
[sticker attachment]
also maybe try not to make too many jokes about her being dead for twenty-six years

fuck offff i wasn't going to
ok
maybe just one

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

you're the worst

i'm the best and you know it

yeah yeah
[sticker attachment]

[sticker attachment]

kim younghwannie-hyung, seungkwan

reaching in 10
[one reaction]
you got all your things?
the folders and your notes and the questions

stop texting and driving
yes i have everything
feel like you're more stressed out about this than i am

i'm not driving i'm at a red light

you're such a bad influence

you say that but i'm your favourite manager-hyung

you're my only manager-hyung

[voice note attachment]

i'm going to send this to beomseok-hyung

[voice note attachment]
[voice note attachment]
[voice note attachment]

ㅎ

i'm here

seungkwan's panic room
(3 members)

seungcheol
call me if anything comes up

seungkwan
eung

jeonghan
lunch with mingyu and seokminnie when you're back
[one reaction]

my ddori, seungkwan

all the best today
let me know how it goes after
[sticker attachment]
i believe in you boo

ty sollie
that means a lot to me
i believe in me too! (ง•̀o•́)ง

that's our princess [edited]

They sit down once again in a conference room at the HYBE headquarters, except this time, it's a much smaller space. A simple office with a single table and four chairs—the two Jeju-guk representatives, Seungkwan, and one person from the group's legal team to look over all the pertinent documents once again.

She's already okayed the documents that Seungkwan had requested Advisor Na to forward last night. Seungkwan's already spoken to all the important people in his life, updated people that he'd felt should be updated.

Now, it's go time.

"I'll do it," he says, and both Chief Oh and Advisor Na look so relieved that Seungkwan can only imagine the kind of stress they've been under these last few months—these last few days, especially. "But I have conditions."

"Go on," Chief Oh says, motioning for him to speak.

"I want to keep my job," Seungkwan says—no, declares. There's no ifs, ands or buts about it. "That's not changing. I follow group schedules. I attend practice. I film shows that I want to go on, I spend as much time as I need for recording and training, I keep the same pay split that our current contract says I do. I'm not missing any of it for any sort of event that needs me there in this—this new role, unless it's absolutely dire."

"We had a feeling you'd say that," Advisor Na says. "What's next?"

"I continue living where I am." Seungkwan would rather eat his own hand than leave Jeonghan behind. "I'm not moving out. I'm already a public figure—there's no use moving me somewhere with tighter security, or back to Jeju-do. I already have stalkers. Our security's as good as it gets for Seoul."

Chief Oh makes a disgruntled sound. "Fine," he says reluctantly. "You have a point. But we reserve the right to move you out if there's a greater threat than stalkers."

"Then you move all of us out."

The both of them stare at him. "All of you?"

"I live with Jeonghan," Seungkwan says, "and we're in the same building as Dokyeom, Jun, Vernon—and both Mingyu and Wonwoo are just two blocks over. S.Coups stays ten minutes away. And the rest are within a half hour of us. You move me, and you have to move the rest of the group. They're non-negotiable."

There's a long pause. Seungkwan suspects they're texting each other under the table.

Then, Chief Oh says, "Alright. We'll find a work-around if it comes to that. Anything else?"

Seungkwan swallows. This, he'd only been able to come to after getting Eunbi to pour three shots of soju down his throat the night he'd pulled the 98z together for a what-the-hell-do-I-do-now meeting. "I choose who I get to marry," he says. "No choosing for me."

Advisor Na leans across the table. Her eyes are bright with a challenge. "Well. You won't have to worry about this for a few years, but we'll provide several options in due time—"

"Options that I need to approve." Seungkwan's face warms at the thought of it. "I'm not agreeing to meet strangers without knowing what they're like first."

"Very good," Advisor Na says smoothly, "you're cautious."

Chief Oh gives her a look. Seungkwan wonders how long they've worked together for. She seems to be at least in her early thirties, while he's closing in on his mid-fifties, perhaps. "What Advisor Na means, is that it's a good sign that you've thought through all of this. That shows some wisdom on your part, and not merely blind acceptance."

"I would hope so," Seungkwan mutters, "it's just my entire life, after all." He pauses, and turns to his legal representative. "Ah, Jisun-sshi—could you give me a moment with just Chief Oh and Advisor Na? I think we're almost done, but I have a couple of personal questions to ask."

Jisun allows them the room, and mentions that she'll be in her office if he needs her.

Once the door's closed behind her, Seungkwan turns to the other two, now a little less assured of himself. "I know I've just said yes," he says haltingly, "but… are you sure? Of me. That you want me to do this, and not some other person on your list."

They're obviously not expecting the question. Chief Oh glances over at Advisor Na, silently requesting for her to speak first.

Advisor Na turns back to Seungkwan and gives him a smile, something a little more genuine and less cat-and-mouse. "I'll be honest," she says, "I can only speak for the both of us, but you've exceeded expectations so far."

"In what way?" Seungkwan's mouth twists. "I wasn't raised to know anything about this, I've never led anything, I only go home to Jeju-do a handful of times in a year—"

"There. Right there." Chief Oh's expression has become something less standoffish. Something more kindly, making him seem less daunting than the man he'd introduced himself to be. "You called Jeju-do your home without even thinking about it, even though you've spent your entire adult life in Seoul."

"It's heart," Advisor Na says. "And it looks like you've got it." She bobs her head in thought. "Well. Not to mention all the other things—your care for your family and friends, your readiness to take on the role despite only finding out about it recently, your impressive resume."

"Quite impressive for someone so young," Chief Oh adds, "even if you don't believe so yourself."

Seungkwan sits back, feeling a bit thrown. "Oh," he says, voice small. "Will the Queen see it that way?"

Chief Oh's eyes crinkle slightly at the ends when he smiles. "Her Majesty will likely request a meeting with you soon," he says, not answering the question. "We'll be in touch once she does, Your Highness."

Seungkwan grimaces. "Do you have to call me that? Even in private?"

"We do," Chief Oh says, collecting his things from the table, "unless you'd rather we refer to you as Princess at all times—"

"Your Highness is fine," Seungkwan says quickly, and there's a stifled laugh from Advisor Na's direction. He shoots her a glare and she just smiles, innocent as the fallen snow. "Thank you for the meeting."

Both of them bow deeply to him. It's unnerving, but Seungkwan just swallows the feeling back and bows right back.

As they prepare to leave the room, Advisor Na steps close to him. "For what it's worth," she says quietly, "we've traced the leak back to its source, and will be taking action as soon as possible."

"Who was the leak? Someone in your team?"

"No," Chief Oh says, his hand resting on the door-handle. "It was someone from the family who would have inherited if you hadn't said yes. They've been pressuring the throne to announce an heir for years in hopes it'd be them. It seems that they've already taken a disliking to you and your sisters, for all that they got their information mixed up."

Seungkwan's mouth falls open in indignance. Are you kidding me. "We don't even know them!"

"You see why we were hoping the heirship would go to someone from your family," Advisor Na says, letting out a huff. Chief Oh opens the door for them, motioning for Seungkwan to go first. "Unfortunately, you will have to meet them eventually. They're quite prominent on the island."

"It'll be Advisor Na's job to fill you in on the details," Chief Oh says before Seungkwan can start. "No need to panic just yet, Your Highness."

Advisor Na nods. "Just get through the press conference on Thursday and we'll be all set!"

Seungkwan tries to smile, and fails.

{

Hello.
This is PLEDIS Entertainment.

We wish to announce that SEUNGKWAN will be taking part in a special press conference broadcast, scheduled for 5th May 2024. The press conference will be an official event organised by the Kingdom of Jeju and the Jeju Provincial Council.

Please send your messages of support for SEUNGKWAN through Weverse, and through watching the broadcast on news channels.

We ask for your continued love and support for the artist, and we will also stay committed to providing SEUNGKWAN with all the necessary support during this time.

Thank you.

reply from @jungender
i read the words 'this is pledis entertainment' and my body goes into fight or flight mode yet and i was not at all prepared for the words that followed. what are you up to seungkwan

reply from @joshoong
omo our jeju boy is going to be part of a kingdom of jeju event??? i thought we were joking about him being the princess of jeju

reply from @kamsangi
our little guy is booked & busyyyy let's goooo

reply from @User19397af248
#SEVENTEEN #VoteSEVENTEENforAOTY #SVT #MTVMusicAwards

reply from @cheols_beard
not the "this is pledis entertainment" i think we should be celebrating princess boo's debut instead

reply from @hoshiluvr2024
Europe tour when

reply from @kkulecru
holy shit are they finally going to be styling him nicely if he'll be standing next to royalty

reply from @fujoshua
i hope the announcement is that they are naming a new tangerine variant after seungkwan

reply from @passthehongos
say hi to brazil

}

boo's clues
(3 members)

jinseol
just remember to take a deep breath okay
so proud of you kwan-ah
the twins are looking forward to seeing you!

sojeong
bookkeu too
[photo attachment]

seungkwan
aigoooo bookkeu baby
you both seriously owe me for this

sojeong
get your ass out there princess
you've got an island to inherit
♡

jinseol
♡

seungkwan
♡♡♡

Chief Oh stands behind the podium, looking sharp and no-nonsense in his immaculately tailored suit and slicked back hair. The pin on his lapel gleams for everyone to see: a gold splash across Hallasan.

The room settles down as he nods at the press; there are far more people here than Seungkwan could have expected, far outpacing the group's own numbers when it comes to press conferences. It feels like an entire hall's worth of reporters, from national newspapers to online entertainment zines.

Seungkwan stands to Chief Oh's left, hoping that the anxiety doesn't show on his face. His hands are clasped before him in hopes that it'll stop the trembling. Come on, Seungkwan, he tells himself. This is nothing. You've been through a million press conferences. You were on Netflix, for God's sake.

"Good morning." Chief Oh gives the crowd a curt nod, resting his hands on the edge of the podium. "On behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Seolla of Jeju-guk, we would like to welcome all of you today. We are aware that you may be lacking in information—however, it is only momentary. Recently, it was reported that the Queen has sought out an heir to the throne, to continue our island's proud lineage."

There's a stir in the room.

"I am honoured to make this declaration on behalf of our Queen." Chief Oh pauses for just a second, just enough for the anticipation to build, right before he says the words: "As the closest descendant from the 22nd generation of the ancestral Boo clan, within three degrees of affinity to the current monarch, Jeju-guk henceforth decrees that the heir to her throne shall be His Royal Highness, Crown Princess Boo Seungkwan."

A silence falls over the hall so heavily that Seungkwan wonders if all the air's been sucked out into a vacuum.

And then, the shouting begins.

Seungkwan steps forward, and Chief Oh gives him a quick glance, one that asks, will you be fine?

He isn't sure, but he's going to do it anyway.

"Hello," Seungkwan says, dipping close to the microphone in order to cut through the noise. "I'd like to say a few words, if I could."

The reporters begin to settle. Something in Seungkwan settles too, along with the reminder that he was built for this. For the kind of situations that led to him spending years networking on behalf of the group with people far more intimidating and pushy and demanding and scornful than any member of the press could ever be.

His back straightens; his shoulders push back.

"I wasn't born on the island," Seungkwan begins, enunciating each word clear as day. "But both my parents were. My mother—a real islander, born of the Jwa clan—she taught me what it meant to be of Jeju-do. Of Jeju-guk, a kingdom in its own right. It meant being proud of what we had, and where we came from. Our history, our people, our mountains and our seas." He glances out across his captive audience and feels spurred on. "It honours me beyond all measure to know that the island will always be my home, no matter how far I go in pursuit of my career."

Seungkwan smiles. "My name is Seungkwan," he says, "and I'm part of SEVENTEEN. Yes, I'm a singer from an idol group. I grew up in Ildo-dong, and spent my teenage years in a green basement in Seoul. I wasn't raised as royalty. But I hope—my hope is that I can do my best for the island that I will always call mine. For our people. Our mountains and our seas."

Off to the side, right behind the stage, Advisor Na stands with approval on her face.

"I'm honoured to be Her Majesty's heir," Seungkwan finishes, and even though his words have gotten quieter, they ring loud in the silent, attentive room. "Thank you all for coming."

Seungkwan nods, and beelines for the back. Almost immediately he can hear the noise start back up again, calls of his name, questions about why it isn't one of his sisters—

Advisor Na catches him before he can walk straight into a wall. "Careful, Princess," she says. "Good job out there. They weren't kidding about you being PR-trained."

"They?"

Before he can get an answer, Seungkwan's ushered out by his security and into his car. Time to get far, far away from the mess he's just left behind.

And time for everything to change.

{

@321gyu
PRINCESS BOO REALLLLL UOUR HIGHNESS YOUR MAJESTY

@SSEOMT
welcome back princess diana princess of the people princess of my heart

@saranghao98
Can princes(ses) wear skintight pants still? I need to know the royalty regulations

@cheols_beard
WTF I WAS JUST KIDDING ABOUT PRINCESS BOO DEBUT

reply from @hoshiluvr2024
can u predict when joshua will stop singing sunday morning tnx

}

my ddori, seungkwan

you were incredible out there

i almost puked i was so nervous

puke when you're home or the car will stink

chwe hansol

i knew you would be incredible. i just knew.
proud of you, princess

chwe hansol!!!!!!!

[sticker attachment]

eomma, seungkwan

eomma
i'm coming home tomorrow

how long will you be home ?

just a week i think
i just really need to see you all

ok
please call your sister… when you are at the airport
i'll make your favourite
love you my baby

love you too
[sticker attachment]

The airport is flooded with press. He has no idea how they'd managed to find out what time he was getting in, but considering they regularly have fans following them halfway across the world, he really shouldn't be surprised (he wonders if the Crown can do something about that now that they've got an idol under its purview).

Seungkwan pulls his cap tighter over his forehead and curls into his jacket, ignoring the shouts and calls of his name, the bright flashes of light coming from every direction. They're nowhere near him, though—he can thank the additional security that were sent by the island's Chief of Staff.

(Technically his Chief of Staff, now.)

He only pauses to speak to one person: a member of Dispatch that he's on friendly terms with ever since their third comeback. "I'm here to spend time with family," he tells the reporter, in response to the question Are you here to meet with the Queen? "I've been looking forw—oh, watch your step, careful—looking forward to being home after a while now."

"Welcome home, Seungkwan-sshi," the reporter calls, waving as Seungkwan makes his way down an escalator, leaving the crowd behind, "and congratulations!"

Seungkwan barely hears it. All he sees is his sister, waiting on the other side of the gate beyond the end of the escalator.

He walks straight into her arms, letting her hug him so tight that he almost loses his breath. "Noona," he says into her hair, "missed you."

"Missed you too." Sojeong pulls away to give him a smile. She looks nervous, probably brought on by the amount of people who have been loitering around the airport just to get a glimpse of Seungkwan. "Come on—we're going straight to lunch and then you are getting the nap of a lifetime—eomma's already started on jeonbok-juk for tonight—"

Seungkwan lets her tug him along, happy to be home.

my ddori, seungkwan

just landed
can i call you tonight?

sure
video me
i want to see how you're doing
wish i could have gone with you

ah hansollie ㅠ
i'll bring you along to jeju-do next time ok?
eomma has been asking after you

promise?
hi seungkwan-eomma
[sticker attachment]

[sticker attachment]
she says hi too
and yes i promise
you can't escape me!!!

good
[one reaction]

Chapter Text

PART FIVE

He's not exactly proud to admit that he spends the first few days of his 'vacation' hiding away in his mother's house. Every time someone turns the TV on, there's news about him, about the royal family, about what it means that someone like him's going to ascend to the throne someday.

And, wow. That's still a crazy thought. As much as Seungkwan's already accepted that he's genuinely, honest-to-god doing this, it's still a lot to process.

Which explains the hiding.

His mother's understanding about it at least. She doesn't ask why he isn't returning anyone's calls, doesn't ask about him meeting up with his old friends from around here, doesn't ask if he wants to go out for dinner or for a run (even though he's dying for a jog by the third day). She leaves him be, knowing that he needs the time to himself.

Well. Not entirely to himself.

Seungkwan's still texting the others in the group—mainly Hansol, who seems to have taken up the responsibility of keeping Seungkwan up-to-date on the latest cat migrations near his dorm, and also the new movie he'd just watched, and some little neighbourhood cafe that him and Minghao and Joshua had visited recently that he swears Seungkwan would love, he'll take Seungkwan there when he's back, it's a promise.

Anything other than what everyone else is talking about.

He's grateful for it. Grateful for that fact that he doesn't even have to say it. Hansol just knows what he needs, knows him to the core.

His sisters help too. Jinseol and Seojun bring the kids over almost every evening, and Seungkwan has a wonderful few days being the best uncle possible, spoiling the girls as much as he can while he has the time and the capacity to. They're just as happy to see him, only making him feel a tiny bit guilty about not getting to visit as much when they cling to him in an attempt to make up for all the lost affection.

They do take a whole bunch of photos together, some of which Seungkwan picks out first thing in the morning to send to Hansol, who responds with a "!!!" and a "cute. all 3 of you" that makes Seungkwan's ears feel a bit warm.

miss you already, he sends in response.

you'll be back soon, Hansol replies. don't forget to bring some of eomeonim's cooking back with you.

she'll cook enough to feed the entire zoo.

good

miss you too, boo

Seungkwan huffs a breath, and sets his phone down. It's nice to be missed, even though he knows logically that Hansol's perfectly fine without him. He's got the others. It's not like they hang out all the time, too. It's just—Seungkwan doesn't want to put too much stock into it.

But it's Hansol.

His phone chimes again. Seungkwan picks it up, expecting to find a new Instagram Reel in his DMs from Bin or Eunbi, but it's a text from Advisor Na instead.

Good morning, Your Highness. I'm outside your house.

Seungkwan scrambles to his feet. What the hell—

The door's already open by the time he plods down the stairs. His mother's voice filters through, welcoming as ever when she says, "Come in, come in."

Advisor Na spots him and shoots him a smile. She's dressed immaculately, not a hair out of place, her two-piece pantsuit sleekly tailored to her shape. Meanwhile, Seungkwan's just rolled straight out of bed, hair a mess and face blotchy from going to town on the homemade makgeolli Seojun had very happily poured out for the both of them last night (best brother-in-law ever).

"Um. We weren't expecting you," Seungkwan says, knowing that he's reddening right before her eyes. "Did we have a meeting today?"

"You've been on the island for three days and you haven't visited the palace," Advisor Na says, getting straight to the point. "The queen wants to see you."

His stomach sinks right to the floor. Through the stairs. Into the ground, melting into the earth's core. "Oh," Seungkwan says. Logically—he knows he wouldn't have been able to put it off for long, but… now? Right now?

Advisor Na takes pity on him. "I'll wait while you get ready," she says, settling herself on the old rattan couch like she's been here before.

She probably has, Seungkwan realises. When she'd come here to speak with his sisters first. Before he was even up for consideration. The last choice.

He shakes himself out of the thought, and makes to go upstairs again. "I'll be quick."

"No rush, Princess!"

Seungkwan shoots her a glare as he winds around to the landing, and she just smiles right back.

Remind him to never introduce her to Jeonghan ever.

When Seungkwan had been eleven, he'd gone on a class trip to the royal palace.

It'd been the first time he'd ever seen the queen in person, albeit from a distance. It hadn't been for long either—it'd been part of some ceremonial event. She'd appeared, waved, and stayed for as long as she was needed. She'd been regal. She'd held herself with the kind of composure Seungkwan could only ever hope to have. She'd cast an eye over them and hadn't smiled, but not out of disdain—purely out of formality. Seungkwan wonders whether she'd known then, that he was one of hers.

She had smiled afterwards, though, as she departed. No longer the stoic royal; she'd looked kinder than expected. Seungkwan remembers going home, and thinking about how familiar that expression had looked. He hadn't realised that it was because he'd seen it at home on his father's own face.

Advisor Na brings him straight to her, passing through a part of the palace that he's never been to. He only remembers ever seeing the bits that are open to tourists and school groups—the palace grounds, the elevated pavilions, some of the pagodas and gates. Not these winding corridors and pathways leading them deeper into the palace grounds, past older yet well-maintained buildings, into the private meeting halls.

"Her Majesty is right through there," Advisor Na tells him when they come to a stop outside a small room, guards flanking the doorway. Before Seungkwan can get in his head about it, she steps forward. With a quiet, "May I?" she adjusts his lapels for him. It's a small kindness that catches him off-guard and flicks away the burdgeoning panic in his throat. "You'll be fine, Your Highness."

Seungkwan nods, and steps in.

The room is cosier than he'd expected. Much more modern than the rest of the palace, despite the traditional tea table that's set low on the ground. Seungkwan doesn't notice anything else, not when the queen is standing right there, arms in her sleeves.

He drops into a bow the moment he realises, years of etiquette kicking in without hesitation. "Your Majesty," he says to the marbled floors, keeping his voice level in hopes she doesn't hear his nervousness.

"Stand up."

Seungkwan's heart is pounding in his chest as he gets to his feet. She's already appraising him with a cool eye.

She's older than he remembers, certainly. Streaks of grey in her hair, crows' feet at the corners of her eyes. But she's dressed as she should be, silks and patterns arranged tastefully about her person, and it makes Seungkwan feel incredibly self-conscious in his plain navy-blue blazer and hastily-pressed slacks. Sure, Advisor Na had said it'd be fine to come like this, but what if she thinks he—

"You turned out well," Queen Seolla says, to Seungkwan's abrupt surprise. The corner of her mouth quirks up. "Hello, Seungkwan. I'm your grandmother."

"Your Majesty," Seungkwan says, "I—"

"I said," she cuts in, eyebrow raised. "I am your grandmother. Your Majesty will be reserved for public occasions."

Alright then. If that's how she wants to play it. Seungkwan straightens to his full height, and tilts his head. "Hello, grandmother," he says, his tongue getting the better of him when he adds, "I don't recall receiving any birthday presents from you over the last twenty-six years."

He regrets the snark immediately—but relief washes over him when she laughs, thankfully amused rather than offended. Seungkwan sees it then, after all these years—his father's features in hers. It's written in the lines of her face, and Seungkwan is struck by a pang of hurt at the thought that his father had to tell everyone that his own mother was dead for years when she was so very close.

Queen Seolla must notice the tension in his shoulders, because her eyes soften. "How much have they told you?"

"Not very much," Seungkwan admits, curling his fingers together. "Enough to know that we could've avoided this situation entirely if everyone hadn't kept it a secret for so long."

"You mean the situation of you inheriting rather than your sisters?" She's sharp. "Do you think your sisters would do better?"

"The line of succession—"

"That means nothing to me now. Do you think your sisters would do better?" she repeats, firmer than before. This is a woman who's used to getting answers when she wants them.

Seungkwan takes a breath, steadying himself. "No," he says honestly, falling back on what he's been rolling around in his mind ever since he'd first asked himself the question, why not me? "I've had years of media and public relations training. I've spent the last decade building industry connections and keeping them alive. My agency trusts me enough to bring me into strategy meetings and contract negotiations." He stops, unsure if she even wants to hear all of this—

Queen Seolla lifts her chin. "Go on," she says. "Tell me."

"I learn quick," Seungkwan says, trying his damndest to be confident, to mean it. "I've got the sort of personality that people seem to trust in when push comes to shove. If there's something that needs to be done, I'll do it. I know what it's like to have to separate the real me from the on-stage me. I know what it means to—to give your entire life up, and place it in someone else's hands." The words come out quieter than he'd expected them to. "I love my sisters," he says, glancing away, "but they would break under the pressure. And I don't ever want that for them. They have their own lives."

"And what of your life?"

Seungkwan doesn't dare breathe, lungs tight with the knowledge that every word out of his mouth is his truth. "It's exactly what it should be."

Queen Seolla moves close, and reaches out for him, palms up in an offering of understanding. Seungkwan takes her hands and blinks up at her, hoping that his eyes aren't as glossy as they feel right now.

"Boo Seungkwan," Queen Seolla murmurs, her voice the kindest it's been since he first walked in. "I trust that you will be an excellent heir."

Seungkwan gives her a watery smile. "Thank you," he says, and he lets the queen lead him to the table for tea. He definitely needs it, after baring his soul to her within the first ten minutes of meeting.

They sit. Instead of telling Seungkwan to pour and leaving him to flounder, she teaches him where to place his hands, which cup to fill first, how to serve. He follows her instructions carefully, knowing that this is probably a test. Something small before the big ones follow eventually.

She seems pleased enough when he sets the pot down. Enough so that Seungkwan feels brave enough to speak first. "I have some questions. If that's alright."

"I will allow you them," Queen Seolla says, "if you would do me the favour of answering mine in turn."

Seungkwan blows the steam off his cup. Takes a tiny sip. It burns bitter on his tongue, like ash from a firepit. He doesn't know whether it's the tea or his nerves. Maybe both. "Why didn't we ever get to know, growing up? That we were part of the line."

There's a pause as the queen folds her hands in her lap, taking her time to think her words over.

"My son—your father," she starts, "he hadn't wanted any of you to grow up with this—burden, as we saw it. It is no lie, the throne is a burden, but a necessary one. Of course, no one expected that it would have to fall upon one of you. He wanted to make sure you all grew up as perfectly normal children."

"I don't think I managed that part very well," Seungkwan points out wryly, "I ended up being a K-Pop idol."

The queen smirks. "The gods do enjoy their little jokes," she says. "Your next question."

"I know these are early days, still, but—I was told that—" Seungkwan swallows. "Will I—"

"Will you have to rule when the time comes?" Queen Seolla gives nothing away when she meets his eyes. "Yes."

Seungkwan bites his lip. Skates his fingers over the lip of his porcelain teacup. Something so fragile allowed to be in his hands. "And I will have to be queen," he says, no longer a question. "A princess, and then a queen."

"That troubles you."

"Of course it troubles me." Seungkwan winces, hoping that she forgives the tone he'd spoken the words in, but she merely nods, motioning for him to continue. "I'm the last person to care about gender roles, or expectations, but—is that even possible? Will people even accept that?"

Will people accept me?

"Worry not about that just yet, Princess," she says, and Seungkwan feels a little twinge of… something he can't quite describe, when she uses the title. It feels more real coming from her. Queen Seolla, of Jeju-guk. Actual royalty. Her face is on a goddamn postage stamp. Is his face going to be on a postage stamp? Oh God, he needs to stop thinking about this right now or he'll freak out again. Stop it, Seungkwan. "Focus on what you must learn for now."

"Yes, grandmother," Seungkwan acquiesces, not without some difficulty. It's in his nature to overthink, to plan ahead, to attempt the rest of a puzzle before he's even found the remaining pieces. For all he'd been determined before, it's the unknown, once again, that threatens to overwhelm him. To undo all the progress he thought he'd made.

A hand tips his chin up gently. Seungkwan glances up, startled.

"For what it is worth," Queen Seolla murmurs, "the island loves pretty royals. And you fit that standard just fine. They will forgive you any missteps for these first few years. Take advantage of that, child."

Seungkwan flushes, feeling embarrassed by her words—words that he still can't accept at face-value. Sometimes he still feels like that country bumpkin who didn't know a thing about the mainland before moving there on his own. The kid who was too loud and too chubby and too annoying. Easily overlooked. Never anyone's first choice. Not… whoever the queen is apparently looking at right now.

Not him, never him.

The queen hums, letting her hand fall to her lap. "Now," she says, back to business, "you must get used to the title quickly. Learn to respond when others call you as such. Know and understand that it isn't just what your role is—it is what you are. You are Crown Princess, and you must accept that."

"It's funny." Seungkwan lets out a quiet laugh. "Would you believe that my fans already call me that as a nickname?"

"Again," Queen Seolla says, matching him smile for smile, "the gods enjoy their jokes. Come, Princess. Finish your tea, and I shall give you the full tour."

Seungkwan lifts his cup to his mouth. This time, the tea tastes much better.