Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The royal library was quiet, save for the soft rustling of paper and the occasional faint hum of the wind against the windows. Prince Wonwoo had found solace here many times before, but today, it wasn’t peace he was searching for. His mind was a whirlwind, full of the frustration he couldn’t shake. Every book he opened felt heavier than the last. His thoughts kept drifting to his brother, Prince Soonyoung, who was still not back from the border. And worse, he couldn’t ignore the seething disappointment that simmered inside him whenever he thought of the conversation with Seungcheol—his elder brother, his king.
Seungcheol had once again denied him the simple request to leave the palace and visit the injured on the battlefield. He had always been protective of him, yes—but this time, it felt different. It felt like a betrayal. And the worst part? Seungcheol hadn’t even tried to understand.
“Your Highness,” a familiar voice broke the silence. Lady Joohee entered the library, her presence quiet yet commanding. “His Majesty has requested your presence in the council chambers.”
Wonwoo sighed dramatically, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone. He didn’t even glance up from the book he had been absently flipping through. “Your Majesty... How fitting,” he muttered under his breath, using the title with a biting edge.
Joohee’s lips pressed together in an attempt to hide a smile at the obvious tension in the air, but she said nothing as she moved toward him. “Wonwoo,” she began gently, “perhaps it would be best to speak with the king. He did call for you.”
Wonwoo didn’t answer. He just stared at the page in front of him, fingers running over the leather binding as if it might offer him the answers he so desperately sought. He wanted to help. He needed to help. But how could he when his own brother treated him like a child?
The sound of the door opening once again interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
“Wonwoo,” came the deep voice of Seungcheol, warm but laced with that familiar tone of command that came with his title. “I see you’ve already been summoned.”
Still, Wonwoo didn’t look up. He refused to.
"Your Majesty," Wonwoo said flatly, the words falling from his lips with a coolness that felt foreign in their private chambers. He didn’t mean to sound so distant, but the frustration that churned inside him made it impossible to act like everything was fine.
Seungcheol’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, though he tried to mask it with a soft smile as he walked over to the chair opposite his younger brother. “Wonwoo,” he said, softer this time, “look at me.”
Wonwoo remained silent, his eyes trained on the book in front of him. The silence between them stretched, long and thick, until finally, Seungcheol spoke again.
“I didn’t call for you to scold you,” Seungcheol said, his voice gentle, but there was a trace of worry in his tone. “You’ve been upset ever since we last spoke, and I can’t stand to see you like this.”
Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest, still refusing to meet his brother’s gaze. “And what should I be upset about, Your Majesty?” he said, a small bite to his words. “Perhaps I should be grateful for being kept in this gilded cage. You know, while everyone else suffers.”
Seungcheol let out a quiet sigh, a mix of frustration and concern, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to keep you locked away, Wonwoo. I’m trying to keep you safe. Do you understand that?”
Wonwoo’s eyes flickered toward him, though he still didn’t look fully at Seungcheol. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Safe?” he repeated, voice tinged with disbelief. “You call keeping me inside safe? You lock me away like I’m some fragile trinket, too delicate to even look at the world beyond these walls. How is that safe?”
Seungcheol felt the sting of those words, but he didn’t let it show. He pushed himself up from his seat, moving to stand next to Wonwoo, though he didn’t touch him. His tone softened even more, becoming almost a whisper. “I don’t want to lock you away, I never have. But I have to protect you, Wonwoo. You’re too important to me—and to this kingdom—to take risks.”
“Important,” Wonwoo muttered bitterly, not fully hearing his brother’s words. “Important for what, then? To stand around and look pretty? I want to help, Seungcheol. I need to do something. I can’t just sit here while Soonyoung is out there... risking his life and fighting for everything we have.”
Seungcheol’s heart sank at the words, but he forced himself to remain calm. “I know you want to help, more than anyone else in this palace, but your place is not on the battlefield. Not yet. You’re our symbol of hope, of unity. The people need to see you here, at the heart of the kingdom, where you’re safe. And they need to know their prince isn’t at risk of...”
“Dying?” Wonwoo interrupted, voice sharp. “Of course, you don’t want me to die, Seungcheol. But I don’t want to be treated like I’m some glass figure, put on display and protected from the world. There’s more to life than just staying inside, watching others suffer. What good am I doing, locked away here?”
Seungcheol closed his eyes for a moment, taking a steadying breath. He’d been trying to reason with Wonwoo, but he could feel the younger prince’s pain in every word. His heart ached at seeing him so restless, so misunderstood.
Slowly, he turned to face his brother fully. “I know it’s hard, but it’s the way it has to be, for now. You’ll find your way, I promise. When the time is right, you’ll be able to help—truly help—in a way that only you can.”
Wonwoo finally looked at him, though his expression was still clouded with frustration. The anger hadn’t completely subsided, but there was something softer in his eyes now, a crack in the wall he’d built between them.
“You’ve been king for how long now?” Wonwoo asked quietly, his voice more vulnerable than before. “When will that time come?”
Seungcheol met his gaze, his face full of quiet resolve. “Soon, I hope. I promise.”
The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, his arms still crossed, but his features had softened just slightly. He wanted to argue more, to push Seungcheol further, but something about the older prince’s words held weight.
For now, he would stay.
But that didn’t mean he was going to stop fighting for a world beyond these walls.