Chapter Text
The palace liked to pretend the Prince of Coeur was never alone, but the truth was simpler. Surrounded by a hundred eyes, he had never felt more unseen. He was loved and adored by the many nobles and commoners who respected, even worshipped, his every move. But behind the closed gates of the palace, he felt isolated and confined by his duties as a part of the royal family.
Attendants surrounded Keonho as he walked through the path in the palace garden. The second he stopped to kneel and take in the smell of the dew-covered flowers, they fussed over him. “Your Highness, you must not kneel on the ground so carelessly!”
He was tired. It was not as if he was unable to take a stroll in the luscious fields of flowers and nature. Besides, the steel gates and high fences covering the areas of the palace were more than capable of protecting him from whatever danger threatened his life.
Regardless, he bit back the sigh and smiled sheepishly, “My apologies, Juhoon, I was not thinking.”
His favourite courtier simply shook his head at the Prince’s antics, used to his behaviour, leaning down to brush the dirt off Keonho’s stained pants with a handkerchief. “Maybe it is best if we go back inside and let you get changed before the Changing of the Guard ceremony.”
“Okay, then.” Keonho nodded. He wanted to stay and admire the view in front of him, the rows of flowers, with their vibrant colours and some featuring more muted tones. But he knew better than to argue. His every word and action was reported back to the King.
He was escorted back to his chamber, where an elaborate, gold-embroidered suit lay on his bed. Next to it was an elegant, long-sleeved blouse that resembled the snowy winters they were expecting soon, and a pair of dark pants that were tailored to perfection, with matching embroidery to his suit.
“Would you like assistance bathing or dressing, Your Highness?” Juhoon asked, his voice steady from where he stood next to the door. “A bath has already been prepared for you, and the attire you are expected to wear was hand-picked by The Majesty himself.”
It was no surprise his father had chosen the clothes for him. From the very beginning of his life up until now, the King had never once trusted Keonho to make his own fashion choices, mostly due to fear of the rumours and backlash that would be spread by the palace servants and the people of Coeur, who were known for living to gossip.
“There will be no need for that, but I appreciate the thought,” Keonho responded with a polite smile plastered on his face.
“My pleasure, Prince Keonho.” His attendant nodded in acknowledgement and closed the door with care, leaving the Prince in solitude.
Once Juhoon’s footsteps had drifted far enough for Keonho to let his guard down, he sighed and flopped onto his bed, mindful not to crease the clothes that had been laid out with thought and precision. He dived face-first into the crimson red sheets, arms flailing out in an ungraceful manner as if he were a starfish.
“I miss James hyung,” Keonho mumbled into the silk. The clock his father had installed on the far wall of his room ticked away ceaselessly, reminding the Prince of his duties waiting for him. Keonho pouted and considered skipping the ceremony entirely, but he reluctantly stood and headed to his en suite.
Just like Juhoon had said, everything was already set out. Keonho dipped his finger in to check, and sure enough, the water was heated to the perfect temperature. And his favourite rose-scented candles were lit, the flames flickering softly as the scent spread gently across the room, calming Keonho’s nerves and doubts.
As he undressed, he watched his reflection in the mirror. There were strong, sharp lines on his built torso, crafted from the endless training he had to endure. His waist, usually hidden by the firmly lined clothing, stood out more than it should. His father would not be proud.
After floating in the water until his fingertips turned wrinkly and his hair was soaked, Keonho dried his body, wrapping himself in a clean robe made of the softest fabric. He would not be surprised if he fell asleep wearing one of these robes.
The rose fragrance lingered as he stepped back into what should have been the comfort of his room. Instead, the walls, painted in red and gold, were another reminder of how he was trapped in the palace by his duties as the next in line to the throne. Duties he wished were not assigned to him.
The formal attire on the bed stared back at him, the gold lines of embroidery mocking him. The curves of the heart intersected in the middle, as if it were the warmest of hugs shaped as love. The emblem of the Coeur Kingdom was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but it felt heavy as Keonho dressed himself.
Piece by piece of clothing adorned his body, fitting like gloves. The outfit had been tailored according to his measurements. Keonho was adjusting the sleeves of the blouse when there was a knock on his door.
“Your Highness, may I come in?” It was Juhoon. “We must leave soon for the ceremony, and the Majesty has requested your attendance early.”
Kim Juhoon was one of the only people who made Keonho truly feel seen. The attendant was shy, but incredibly observant. They had basically grown up with each other, so the comfort in Juhoon’s presence was unmatched by most of the others in the palace.
It was his job to keep Keonho company and report back to the King, but Juhoon was heaps more lenient than any of the other courtiers Keonho had been assisted by—one of the many reasons why Juhoon was his favourite. Not to mention, the older boy was rather adorable in Keonho’s eyes.
“Yes, you may,” Keonho replied, snapping out of the train of thought. “Apologies for the delay, and as always, I appreciate your patience, Juhoon.”
The attendant, gently pushing the door shut behind him, gave a curt nod in his direction. “Of course, Prince Keonho. Your father will be pleased that you have obeyed his words.”
“Hm, what do you think?” Keonho asked, showing his clothes with a delicate twirl and a cheeky grin.
Juhoon smiled, a rosy colour softly dusting his cheeks. “You look wonderful, Your Highness.”
Their dynamic was easy, and it gave Keonho some room to breathe. Juhoon, although tied down by his responsibilities, as this was his form of employment, had never once judged Keonho for who he was. Rather, he was something stable, someone whom the young Prince could trust among the many in the Coeur kingdom.
Juhoon’s eyes raked over Keonho before stopping at his hair. “Your hair is still wet?”
“Ah, yes, I have not dried it yet. Will there be enough time for me to do so, or shall we make our departure now to ensure we are not late to the function?” Keonho asked, running his hands through the soaked strands of his hair.
There was a pause as Juhoon contemplated his options. “I think it would be best if you dried it a little and then styled it from there. Unfortunately, there is not much time available on our hands.”
Keonho pouted, his lips pushing out adorably as he focused on brushing the towel against his hair, ruffling the wet strands that fell delicately, framing his face.
Juhoon stifled a laugh at the sight, his heart swelling at the younger one’s actions. “Prince Keonho, may I offer you some assistance?”
“Yes, please,” Keonho responded, a slight frustration growing at the slow speed of the drying process.
The courtier took the towel from the Prince’s hands, gently rubbing his head, but with enough force that the majority of the wetness was soaked into the towel. Juhoon brushed out his hair before carefully parting it in the middle, revealing Keonho’s forehead, which was framed by the smaller strands of hair.
“There. All done.” Juhoon moved further away to admire his work. Keonho looked so young and vulnerable, staring at him, waiting for further instructions, yet sharp and untouchable like he was expected to be. The thought made something deep in Juhoon’s stomach churn.
Keonho smiled at the compliment, grateful for his companion. “Thank you, Juhoon. Shall we head out now?”
“Yes, right this way, Prince Keonho.” Juhoon opened the door, where the other attendants were lined up waiting. It was a brisk walk down the halls, out of the palace, to the carriages, where the stablemen awaited their arrival. “Your Highness, may I assist you?”
Juhoon held out his hand, and Keonho gladly took it, carefully climbing into the carriage. The doors of the carriage were adorned in a deep red with the golden emblem of Coeur. The horses up front were being handled by the Crown Equerry, a familiar face that Keonho sent a polite wave towards.
The journey was not overly long, but enough for Keonho’s leg to subconsciously bounce against the carriage’s sole. It was a comfortable yet prolonged silence that made the Prince’s mind tick away. It was not his place to push or pick apart the younger one’s thoughts, so Juhoon watched, hands placed on his lap.
“Juhoon,” Keonho started.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“I—Never mind,” he mumbled.
The attendant could not help the chuckle that left his lips. “Prince Keonho, with respect, you are absolutely horrible at concealing your emotions.”
Keonho pouted, dramatically feigning offence. “You wound me, Juhoon, so utterly disrespectful."
“For my sake and for your own, allow me to be of service to you. Please, do continue.”
The Prince groaned. “Why must you know me so well? It is honestly a little frightening.” Juhoon gave him a pointed look, still polite but bordering on dissatisfied. “Okay, okay, fine, if you must know. I was planning to ask whether James hyung will be attending the Changing of the Guard ceremony.”
Juhoon unintentionally froze at the mention of the name. The gentle rocking of the carriage as the horses charged forward did nothing to cover the sudden halt of his movements. He hastily avoided eye contact, rummaging through his pouch instead.
“I fear I may have overstepped what the King has allowed you to speak with me.” Keonho sighed, his head dropping down into his hands. “I… I cannot seem to understand why everyone avoids talking about James hyung. He was phenomenal at his position and always faithful to me.”
“Your Highness—Keonho.” It was rare when Juhoon dropped the honorifics, despite the countless times Keonho had requested him to, so the Prince’s head shot up immediately. Juhoon had a tight smile on his face, one that signified how burdened he was. “James was a good person; he still is. I respected him as your guard, but the aftermath of the attack…”
“But, Juhoon, I disagree. Why must falling in love be considered a sin? James hyung never betrayed me or even thought of it. If he wanted to harm me, he would have done so a long time ago. Everyone trusted him to be by my side, so why must you all act as if he committed a crime?” Keonho pleaded, his tone upset, seeking answers.
Juhoon pressed his lips in a thin line. “Forgive me, Prince Keonho. Your father has requested that I stay silent regarding this matter. My opinion does not hold any weight.”
“Right. Yes, of course,” Keonho said, conceding. “No need for forgiveness, I am at fault here. I should not have pressed it. You are just doing your job, and I am grateful for your presence, nevertheless.”
Luckily for both of them, their conversation was interrupted by the coachman notifying them that they had reached their destination, though Keonho knew their discussion was not leading anywhere after his attendant returned to using his title. Juhoon hopped off first, nimble on his feet. He offered his hand, steadying the prince as he climbed down onto stable ground.
The Great Hall of Lueur towered above them like a monument carved out of a dream, breathtaking in all the ways that overwhelmed Keonho. Rows of marble pillars stretched from the entrance to the dais, gilded and shimmering gold that caught the light pouring in through the stained-glass windows. When the sun hit the windows just right, the colours scattered across the hall like fragments of a broken rainbow, washing over the arriving nobles.
Steps led into the main chamber, where guards in immaculate uniforms stood in still formation. Their armour was polished so flawlessly that Keonho could see distorted versions of himself reflected in it. Banners bearing the Coeur emblem hung from the beams, each one heavy with threads of gold expertly woven. The hall smelled of polished marble and the faint metallic edge of ceremonial swords. It was achingly beautiful but suffocating all the same.
Juhoon stepped slightly closer, ready to guide him inside. “Your Highness, let us enter.”
Keonho’s gaze travelled slowly across the scene before them. There were nobles already gathering, swarming in clusters of silk and jewels, leaning in to whisper amongst themselves. The sound was a low hum, like the buzzing of bees, polite on the surface but dangerous underneath. A carpet stained red stretched toward the dais, where the royal family of the Coeur kingdom would soon sit.
“I always forget how overwhelming this place is,” Keonho murmured, his eyes glistening as he took in the sight.
Juhoon glanced at him from the corner of his eye, admiring the view alongside him. “I could not have said it better, Prince Keonho.”
But as they stepped into the hall, Keonho felt the burdening weight settle over him again. The combined pressure of tradition, palace whispers, and the crown he would one day inherit, whether he wanted it or not. At least, he thought as he glanced at Juhoon beside him, not everything in this place was unbearable.
And then he saw him.
James.
Standing among the incoming guests, at the far end of the hall, where the guards not participating in the ceremony were posted. He was not clad in armour like the rest. Instead, he wore a dark blue uniform with a symbol that Keonho could not recognise. James looked different. He was tanned in a way one only became from time spent outside palace walls, his hair longer, now dirty blonde.
James’s eyes met his. Just for a second. Just long enough.
Juhoon followed his gaze and immediately stiffened. Keonho felt the subtle shift beside him, the tension pulling the air taut. “Your Highness,” Juhoon whispered sharply. “Please do not—” But Keonho was already walking toward James.
His steps were too fast, too loud, too obvious. He could feel the eyes watching him. Hear the whispers from the nobles. Feel Juhoon’s panic behind him. He could not bring himself to care. Not this time.
“James hyung…?” Keonho’s voice came out soft, disbelieving, and cracking at the end.
James straightened, shoulders broad and familiar. His lips parted. “Prince Keonho.” The title was formal, stiff, wrong and stabbed at Keonho’s chest.
“That is all you have to say to me?” Keonho breathed, eyes wide. “After everything?”
James swallowed hard, looking anywhere and everywhere but at Keonho. “Your Highness, I am not permitted to speak with you.”
Juhoon finally caught up, stepping between them. “Former guard James, you are not authorised to approach the Prince.”
James’s jaw tightened. “Juhoon. I did not approach him.”
Keonho tried to step around Juhoon, but his attendant gently blocked him again, an action so uncharacteristically bold that it stunned him for a moment. “Please, Your Highness,” Juhoon added urgently.
“I want to speak with James hyung. Why will you not allow it?” Keonho snapped.
“Prince Keonho,” James interrupted quietly, gaze fixed on the floor. “Please… do not cause trouble for yourself because of me.”
That hurt worse than James leaving his side.
The hall around them continued to fill with nobles, attendants, guards, unaware of the storm brewing in the small space between the prince, his favourite attendant, and the guard he once considered his best friend, his older brother.
Keonho wanted to argue back, even beg Juhoon to allow him to have a moment with his former guard, but the fanfare trumpets had started to play. That only meant one thing. His father and mother, the King and Queen, had arrived. Juhoon pushed through the crowd in an instant, urging the Prince to follow him. Turning to look at James once more, Keonho met his eyes, apologetic, before heading up to the dias.
“Please, Your Highness,” Juhoon whispered. “Your father will be displeased if you delay.”
Keonho swallowed and forced himself to walk. Each step up the dais felt heavier than the armour worn by the guards. His heartbeat pounded so loud he could hear it over the noise of the trumpets. His fingers twitched once, as if they wanted to reach back toward James, but he quelled the instinct. By the time he reached the dais, the hall had fallen into reverent silence.
The King and Queen entered through the towering golden doors, flanked by elite guards in pristine formation. The nobles bowed, the sea of jewel-toned fabrics folding as one. Keonho dropped into the practised bow he had been perfecting since childhood, his hand on his heart, even as his mind remained elsewhere.
The royal family ascended to their seats, and Juhoon slipped into his own position beside the dais, hands clasped properly. From the high standpoint, Keonho could see everything. Every noble watching them with polite admiration, every guard standing in perfect stillness. Everything except James, whom he had lost sight of among the crowd.
The King raised a hand, commanding silence. A murmur rippled through the hall as the attention shifted forward. A few nobles straightened, whispering excitement as they had been told a grand announcement would be made.
The herald stepped forward, his footsteps echoing against the marble. “Presenting His Majesty, King Hyunseok and Her Majesty, Queen Yeonhwa of the Coeur kingdom.” The herald bowed as the King stepped ahead, his robes flowing like molten gold.
“My dear subjects and nobility of Coeur, thank you for gathering here today. Please join me as we give a warm welcome to the former guard, Zhao Yufan.” Keonho watched as James appeared from the crowd. The nobles and guards glanced at him, some with respect, others confused.
“I am sure most of you refer to this man right here as James. But he is more than just a name or a friendly face. He is the reason my beloved son is alive, well and breathing, at this very moment.” King Hyunseok announced with a booming voice that filled the Hall of Lueur.
Queen Yeonhwa followed, standing tall next to him. “Yes, we are eternally grateful to James. He demonstrated an act most other soldiers would not have, fully on instinct, to protect our son, the Prince of this kingdom. His loyalty and dedication as Prince Keonho’s personal guard will never be forgotten.”
“However, during the healing process… he fell in love. It was beautiful to oversee, if I do say so myself. Therefore, to express our utmost gratitude, we are granting permission for James to step down from his position and continue to meet with the healer who now possesses his heart.”
It was all nonsense to Keonho. He could not mention the guard’s name in the premises of the palace without receiving an awkward and rushed excuse to avoid the topic entirely. It was always shallow responses, lacking details. He was not allowed information on the healer or any specifics of their so-called love story.
It would not have been an understatement for Keonho to claim that James was being treated like some criminal. His parents were the ones permitting James to retire from his position, so why could they never spare Keonho any details? There was no comprehensible explanation as to why they acted as if James were a traitor. Love was love. Even if his significant other was from a neighbouring kingdom.
The nobles, blissfully unaware, awed and applauded. Keonho could hear some congratulating James, others praising his parents for being so understanding and for treating their people well. The King raised his hand once more, calling for quiet. His voice carried the pride of a man presenting a prized weapon rather than a human being.
“And now,” King Hyunseok continued. “Allow me to introduce the guard who has risen to take James’s former position as our son’s personal guard. A man of unwavering dedication, exceptional skill, and absolute loyalty to the kingdom of Coeur.” A ripple of anticipation passed through the nobles at his words. Even Keonho straightened slightly, the breath caught in his throat.
The main doors opened once again. A young man strode down the aisle, his steps heavy with the authority of someone who had trained all his life for this exact moment. His uniform was immaculate, crimson red trimmed with gold. He carried himself as a blade sharpened for war, his expression was unreadable as if carved from stone.
But he was nothing like Keonho had expected. The new guard seemed to be the same age as Keonho, and honestly, more delicate than the Prince himself. Where James had broad shoulders, steady and tall, the person in front of him was slim and around the same height as Keonho, possibly even shorter.
He turned his head to see the expression on his parents’ faces, assuming this was all some sort of sick joke and the ceremony would be cancelled and James would return to his position and Keonho would wake up and find out this was all some silly nightmare—no, the King simply greeted the man with a nod.
The guard’s eyes flicked to Keonho, just for a fraction of a second, then he kneeled before the dais, right fist pressed to his heart. “Your Majesties. Your Highness.” His voice was deep and unwavering. “I, Eom Seonghyeon, pledge my life and loyalty to the kingdom of Coeur, especially to Prince Keonho. My oath is unbreakable.”
The King lifted a hand. “You may rise, Seonghyeon.” The guard rose gracefully, his gaze flickering to Keonho again, this time sharp and entirely focused on him.
The Queen smiled, hands clasped together. “Coeur welcomes you, Seonghyeon. May your service be long and honourable.”
Seonghyeon bowed again. “It will be my greatest honour, Your Majesty.”
The nobles hummed with approval. Several whispered about his striking features, others about the King and Queen’s excellent choice of a replacement. As applause filled the Hall of Lueur, Seonghyeon stepped into position directly behind Keonho’s right shoulder.
Close enough that the Prince could feel the presence of a new shadow belonging solely to him. It made Keonho’s breath hitch. A prickle, low in his chest. Keonho tried not to react, but Juhoon noticed. James, now standing among the nobles, noticed too.
The rest of the ceremony was a blur for Keonho. He smiled, waved, and bowed like he was taught to, leaving the nobles gushing and endeared. Keonho should have been focused on reconnecting with James, but his palms were clammy at the weight of the stare he felt from behind, heat rushing to his neck.
Eom Seonghyeon. His new personal guard. The replacement for James.
Seonghyeon’s stare from earlier replayed in his mind. It felt too deep, too intimate for someone he had just met. And if most definitely had nothing to do with how unbelievably beautiful Seonghyeon’s features were. His sharp, fox-like eyes that pierced into Keonho’s soul and his bruised lips that held in a flat line, not reaching a smile.
His facial expression had been stoic and unreadable, but it was overwhelming to feel Seonghyeon’s eyes on him. The supposed butterflies in his stomach made him feel nauseous, and a light sheen of sweat formed on his skin. Keonho had never felt this way before, and he was not sure if he was fascinated or utterly terrified of his new guard.
“Your Highness, Seonghyeon will be escorting you back to your chamber. I wish you safe travels, and I shall visit you tomorrow along with the other attendants,” spoke Juhoon as the ceremony concluded and the nobles, one by one, started exiting the hall.
Keonho nodded, though his throat felt strangely dry. “Alright. Thank you, Juhoon.”
Juhoon bowed respectfully, but his eyes flicked over once to Seonghyeon. Then he faced Keonho again, smile softening. “Rest well, Prince Keonho.” And then he was gone, melting into the flow of retreating nobles.
The hall quieted sharply, the echo of footsteps fading into polished marble. Without the applause and chatter, the air felt heavier, thicker. Keonho stood alone in the centre of the vast chamber. Alone, except for the man whose presence felt like a laser against his back.
Slowly, he turned and saw that Seonghyeon was already watching him. Not an impolite stare or one filled with mirth, it was just attentive. Studying him with a focus so absolute it made Keonho’s pulse stutter. His expression remained unreadable, neither warm nor cold, but his eyes… they were unwavering.
“Your Highness,” Seonghyeon said, his voice low and steady. “If you would allow me to escort you.”
Keonho blinked. “Oh, um—Yes, of course.” His voice cracked, and he instantly wanted to crawl under the nearest tapestry.
Seonghyeon did not comment. Instead, he merely stepped forward, keeping a respectful distance that protocol required. Not too close, not too far. A shadow meant to guard, never to touch. But even so, as they walked toward the grand doors, Keonho could feel the heat of him like sunlight radiating off armour.
The guards lining the hall bowed as they passed. Halfway down the corridor, he dared a glance. Seonghyeon’s eyes flicked toward him at the exact same moment. Keonho jolted, looking forward immediately, ears burning.
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” Seonghyeon asked, voice impossibly calm.
“No,” Keonho squeaked, then cleared his throat. “No. Just, uh, thinking.”
“I see.” His tone gave nothing away. No judgment. No amusement. Just an acknowledgement. But Keonho heard something in it. A softness? A warmth? He could not be sure, and it was driving him insane.
They continued in silence, passing through the wide corridors lit with gold. Keonho could feel the words clawing up his throat, all the questions he wanted to ask. Why did you stare at me like that? Why did it feel like you were already reading me? Why does my heartbeat feel wrong around you?
The first question that slipped out was, “...Why did you look at me like that? Earlier, when you arrived.”
Seonghyeon slowed, and Keonho instantly regretted speaking. His new guard turned his head slightly, enough that the light caught the edge of his jaw, sharp and beautiful.
“I apologise if I overstepped,” Seonghyeon said quietly, bowing his head.
“No! No, that is not what I was implying—” Keonho’s hands flailed uselessly. “I mean, uh, I just… noticed.”
For the first time, something shifted on Seonghyeon’s face. It was not a smile, but rather an expression, tiny, subtle, and devastatingly gentle. As if he were weighing his words before offering them like a secret.
“I was memorising you, Your Highness.”
Keonho could not breathe. It was as if someone had punctured his lungs and all the oxygen had left his body without notice.
“My duty is to protect you,” Seonghyeon continued. “I must know every detail. How you move. How you walk. What startles you. What calms you.” His eyes met Keonho’s again, this time steady and deliberate. “I cannot protect someone I do not fully understand.”
Keonho’s heart hammered so hard it hurt. “Oh,” he whispered. “Right. Of course. That makes sense.” But on the inside, he felt like the hall floor had vanished beneath his feet.
“Your safety is my sole priority, Your Highness.” Seonghyeon resumed walking. Keonho followed beside him, trying desperately not to combust.
As they reached the carriage, Seonghyeon automatically held out his hand. Keonho accepted, praying the guard did not see the subtle tremble of his fingers as he stepped into the vehicle. Seonghyeon followed suit, climbing into the seat next to him, but not before grabbing a blanket and gently placing it on Keonho’s lap.
The heat that ran straight up to his cheeks was unmistakable, but Seonghyeon was too occupied adjusting the blanket to notice. Or maybe he was polite enough not to mention it. Keonho hoped it was the first reason, or he wanted to be banished from the kingdom. He watched with wide eyes as Seonghyeon draped the soft cloth over his legs, smoothing out the edges with care.
His movements were so gentle that they brought a small smile to Keonho’s face. The way his hands moved with such attentiveness and the thoughtful action itself contradicted how serious and impassive Seonghyeon had looked earlier. The guard ensured that there was no unnecessary contact between them, and Keonho tried to ignore the peculiar feeling that stirred in his stomach.
His heartbeat was irregular, pacing much faster than it should be. He had never felt this way around James—Keonho gasped, he had forgotten about James.
Seonghyeon’s head shot up in surprise, concern evident in his expression, “Your Highness, what is the matter?”
“I—I need to talk with James!” Keonho was horrified. He had been so distracted pondering why his heart was racing abnormally that he had missed his chance to finally seek an explanation for his former guard. “Please, I must head back,” the Prince pleaded.
“Your Highness, I regret to inform you, but former guard James is already being escorted back to the kingdom of Astre.”
Oh. Keonho felt a burn gather behind his eyes. His lashes trembled as he blinked fast, trying to chase the tears away. He bowed his head both in acknowledgement of Seonghyeon’s response and to hide the moisture that left his eyes glistening. Keonho turned, facing away from his guard, not wanting to embarrass himself any further.
“Please tell the coachman to begin our journey back to the palace.”
Seonghyeon easily obliged, and they set off, the horses galloping up front. No words were exchanged for the rest of their passage. Seonghyeon seemed to have understood the sudden change in Keonho’s mood, though he decided against commenting on it, not wanting to upset the Prince further.
It brought back memories of how James would comfort Keonho with a warm embrace or an affectionate ruffle of his hair. Whenever the Prince was upset, James would make it his mission to dissolve the pout from his face. Whether it was acting undignified to make Keonho burst into giggles or sneaking his favourite pastries from the royal kitchen.
James had been Keonho’s comfort person.
Seonghyeon seemed nice enough, but his face was devoid of any emotion more often than not. He was too rigid, too proper, too polished. There had been a moment where Keonho thought otherwise, but it was diminished quickly as he realised that Seonghyeon too had been instructed to avoid the topic of James.
No one was truly on his side. Not even James. The solace he had once provided for Keonho was long gone. The blanket covering his lap felt vain against the bitter cold that hit him as the carriage rocked back towards the palace.
The palace gates opened with a familiar groan of steel, the carriage slowing as it crossed into the inner courtyard. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames bending with the evening breeze. Keonho barely noticed. His gaze remained fixed on nothing in particular, thoughts heavy and tangled in ways he could not name.
Seonghyeon was the first to move when the carriage stopped. He stepped down and offered his hand again, steady and sure. Keonho hesitated only a fraction of a second before placing his own into it. The contact was brief. Necessary. Proper.
And yet, it lingered in Keonho’s mind longer than it should have.
They walked in silence through the palace halls, footsteps echoing softly against stone. Keonho’s shoulders sagged as they climbed the familiar staircase leading toward his chamber. His movements were slower now, fatigue from overthinking finally catching up to him. He had been restless all day, and he felt hyperaware of his own movements. It was exhausting.
Seonghyeon noticed. The guard kept half a step behind, eyes scanning their surroundings with disciplined focus, but a part of his attention remained fixed on the Prince’s unsteady pace. The way Keonho’s fingers brushed the railing. The way his breaths were slightly uneven.
It was a step past the upper landing when Keonho’s foot slipped on the edge of the tread.
The world tilted, but before Keonho could even gasp, arms wrapped firmly around his waist, solid and unyielding. He was pulled back against a warm chest, stopped inches from falling. The grip was strong, instinctive, hands anchored at Keonho’s sides as if he were something precious. Keonho froze, breath trapped in his lungs, heart slamming wildly against his ribs.
They were suddenly too close, and Keonho felt everything. From the heat of Seonghyeon behind him, the rise and fall of his breath, to the unmistakable strength holding him upright. His hands hovered uselessly in the air before resting lightly against Seonghyeon’s forearm.
Their eyes met.
Seonghyeon’s composure cracked for just a second. Concern flashed openly across his face, sharp and unguarded, his brows drawn together as his gaze searched Keonho’s like he was checking for injuries unseen. His hold tightened minutely, almost protective to the point of possessiveness.
“Your Highness,” he murmured, voice low and urgent. “Are you harmed?”
Keonho shook his head, barely aware he was doing it, his voice just above a hushed whisper. “No, I am not.”
The realisation hit them both at the same time.
Seonghyeon pulled away immediately, as if burned, stepping back and lowering himself into a bow. “Your Highness, please forgive me,” he said, voice carefully neutral once more. “I acted without thinking.”
“There is no need to seek forgiveness. Instead, I—I must thank you, Seonghyeon. I would have fallen otherwise. And besides, you were just doing your duty,” Keonho responded, heart racing, the ghost of Seonghyeon’s hands still warm against his waist.
“Yes,” Seonghyeon replied. Too quickly. Too firmly.
Silence settled between them again, heavier than before. They resumed their climb, but something had shifted. Keonho’s thoughts refused to quiet. The way Seonghyeon had moved so fast. The look in his eyes before he remembered himself. The way his body had reacted before his mind could catch up.
By the time they reached his chamber doors, Keonho realised with a strange, fluttering unease that Seonghyeon had already wedged himself somewhere deep in his thoughts. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere he should not be.
Even after Seonghyeon bid his goodbye outside his door, posture once again flawless and expression unreadable, Keonho lay awake far longer than he should have—replaying the moment over and over, wondering when exactly his heart had decided to betray him.