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“Now, Jihoon,” his mother gently called, cradling his head, “behave. We are here to negotiate an alliance with the emperor of Tienwan. He is known for his cool temperament but he can be…” his mother hesitated, a wobbly smile gracing her beautiful face, “ah- vicious when his love of his family is challenged.”
Jihoon, a perfectly calm, collected, and cool prince of a minor kingdom, pouted. “Mother, what do you think I’d do? Punch the Tienwan’s princes? I’m already 16! Not a child anymore!”
His mother, the single ruler of the Kingdom of GenG ever since his father perished, indulged him.
Jihoon felt love blossoming in the bottom of his heart when he felt his cheeks getting squished by his mother.
“Aiyah, such a fancy young man already. And yet you talk like so towards your mother.” Jihoon pouted more at sensing his mother’s teasing.
“You know I am capable of talking ‘formally’ which, I point out, is never needed between the two of us.” Soft hands mussed his hair.
“Of course, my son.” His forehead felt a light kiss descending upon it, making affection and protection in equal strength burst upon the depths of his soul.
His father perished as a heroic ruler, laying down his life to protect their kingdom against the LEC, a union of nomads using the dark arts. For someone, like his father, who has no inclination or talent for magic (whether light or dark), the fight between them is already surmised.
That fateful night, Jeong Jiho was praised as a martyr - a hero, a righteous king. Jeong Jiwon, his wife, who picked up the sword she has given up, is elevated to a saintess, a great protector of their Kingdom.
The nomads' blood flowed to paint the brick roads of their small territory.
Some lamented and mourned the death of their king. Most felt relief at seeing their queen become the legendary swordsman once more.
That fateful night was a legend.
But to Jihoon it was merely… a nightmare.
His too-young eyes watched as a sword drove to his father’s chest - Jihoon realized he can never lay down and feel those calming dug, dug, dug again. He watched, unblinking, as his father’s body thudded down on the dirty street, thinking ‘Oh, that will dirty Father’s clothing. What to do? We still have to meet Mother for tea.’ He crouched still on a basket his father hauled him to, watching, watching as Father mouthed at I'm, ‘I love you.’
Jihoon’s brows furrowed, the young prince tilting his head. ‘Was Father’s eyes so gray?’ He mused over silently, not daring to question his father’s orders of him to be silent. ‘No, that’s wrong. Father's eyes are black, as vibrant as the gems he gifted Mother. Is Father sick?’
Jihoon would soon realize that the heartbreaks far outweighs the pain of a scrapped knee - that watching grief, they called it, drenching his mother is more painful than the paper cuts he always seems to get.
‘I won’t disappoint you, Mother.’ Jihoon swore, watching the tight lines in his mother’s face, watching the grief hidden by affection, watching those bright eyes dim little by little.
Oh.
Jihoon would make sure those wretched nomads will be razed to the ground.
And if that means that Jihoon has to manipulate the Tienwan Empire’s Monarch for an alliance, then so be it.
“Although,” Jihoon hummed in lieu of an answer at her good-natured tone, prompting her to continue: “I would appreciate it if you really, really, really don’t punch any of their princes.”
Jihoon gasped, scandalized. “Mother!”
He was rewarded with a joyful laughter ringing in the otherwise quiet gardens of their home.
“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing. But, surely, you can promise me that?”
“Of course, Mother!” Jihoon responded, beyond exasperated. “I won’t punch any princes of Tienwan. As a matter of fact, I will befriend them.”
Queen Jiwon merely chuckled. “Yes, yes, my prince. You won’t punch them.”
Jihoon did punch one of the princes.
“H-how dare you?!” An enraged voice belonging to a short noble bellowed at him.
He wasn’t very notable - with the exception of a beauty mark at the left side of his face, just below the wings of his eye. And that he’s pretty. Exceptionally so for a boy.
And that he’s short.
“A-are you okay?” Minseok Moled-one, Jihoon decided to call him that, courtesy of his mole (it was funny), called to the guy Jihoon punched.
He is now nursing a black eye.
‘Serves him right.’ Jihoon huffed, haughtily rolling his eyes.
“I’m fine, Minseokie,” black-eyed reassured moled-one to no avail.
“You’re clearly not!” Moled-one turned his blazing eyes to Jihoon. He didn’t flinch. He was above that. (He did.)
If Jihoon took a pause, he would find that name to be very familiar.
“Do you understand what you have done?” Moled-one enunciated in a perfectly calm, dark tone.
Jihoon met his eyes with the same fierceness. “What? Just because this one is merely from a minor kingdom gives you, venerable ones, the excuse to ridicule him and his family?” Jihoon’s fist shook with how hard he’s clenching it.
“Ridicule? You accuse as so, and deliberately tarnish our honors.” Moled-one sneered.
“If I may be so impudent as to presume your identity,” a deeper voice interjected. Black-eyed stood straighter, his broad shoulders, tall stature, and levelled gaze gave Jihoon the feeling of being towered upon, despite the minimal differences in their respective heights. He continued: “With a basis on your reactions, I believe you are the prince of GenG, Prince Jeong Jihoon?”
Jihoon didn’t gulp. He was above that. (He did.)
‘For Mother and Father’s honor!’
Jihoon smiled coldly, giving a sloppy bow. “This humble one is indeed the prince of GenG. It is my pleasure that revered ones such as yourselves know of this lowly one.”
Moled-one bared his teeth. “How courageous, indeed, are the royal family of GenG. But would it be too insolent if I were to share my modest thoughts about it?” He tilted his head in a way that is very condescending.
Jihoon would like to punch him too.
“Rather than courageous, is not the word that would suit more of the Prince’s conduct is… brazen?”
“What impudence you have?” Crescent moons already bled at Jihoon’s palm, tension pulling his muscles taut.
He knows the only way his poor muscles can relax is if he were to thrash that face.
Before he could make true of that though, someone called out: “Minhyung. Minseok.”
His two companions perked up, and a person stood with his back to him, addressing the two. “I was looking for- what happened to your eye, Minhyung?” The guy suddenly stopped, presumably seeing the black eye he gave that Minhyung-
Wait, Minhyung? As in, Minhyung?
‘Oh. I’m fucked.’
“Jihoon.” His mother raced towards him, cradling his face on her gentle hands. Worried eyes scanned him, mutters of “are you okay, are you injured, say something,” and aggrieved “my son” floating around him.
He, Jeong Jihoon, the Prince of the minor kingdom, GenG, punched the Crown Prince, the Second Prince, His Highness Lee Minhyung, and was fighting with his intended, the Third Prince, His Highness Ryu Minseok.
‘Oh. I’m fucked.’
“He punched Prince Lee.” Prince Ryu stated simply, giving a dirty glance at Jihoon.
“His Highness, Prince Lee dishonored my King and my Queen by insinuating that I, Jeong Jihoon, am an orphan.” Shocked gasp rang through the crowd (which Jihoon just noticed) - the loudest one came from his mother.
“His Highness did not. How have you found numerous ways to trample upon our honors?” Prince Ryu seethed. Prince Lee put a calming hand on Prince Ryu’s shoulder, which did not have any effect.
“I believe we had been deluded towards our assumptions and had been blinded by rage due to some misunderstood blights to our honors, Your Majesty.” Prince Lee calmly spoke.
‘Or, in other words “this fucker assumed things and with an etiquette of an uncouth cow went and fought me”.’ Jihoon nearly rolled his eyes.
And if Jihoon paused (again), he would notice the title the newcomer was called,
“On behalf of my son, I apolo-” Jihoon’s heart trembled, catching his mother’s arms before she could kowtow towards the newcomer.
“No, mother. It was-” a slender hand raised, effectively shutting Jihoon up.
It was a very pretty hand.
“Minhyung.” He called once more.
And ‘Oh, what a lovely voice.’
Minhyung bowed, solemnly explaining. “I was walking around, and it has come to my attention that some fu-, uh... people have been speaking poorly of our guests. I opened it up as a problem to our Prince Ryu for he is known far and wide for his gift of intelligence, and this one wished to have his aid in refuting the problem. I believe the prince here had, regrettably, heard Prince Ryu repeating the disgraceful things uttered by the people, and took offense.”
Unexpectedly, Prince Lee bowed down low. Lower than his status accounted for.
Everyone gasped.
“It was this one’s incompetence that such shameful acts occurred in our place. I will accept all punishments.”
More unexpectedly, Prince Ryu bowed down also, as low as Prince Lee did. “His Highness Prince Lee was merely concerned for the goodness of all. Rather, it was this one’s inadequacy and temper that led to such a situation. Please. If punishment were well deserved, then I believe I shall be the foremost receiver of it.”
Everyone gasped. Prince Lee’s was the loudest.
“Minseokie!”
“Shut up, Minhyungie.”
Jihoon felt his mother tremble beside him, terror shining upon her eyes. Jihoon gulped, pitying her mother.
‘I apologize, Mother. I have disappointed you once more.’
Jihoon fell to his knees, putting his hands up and kowtowing in front of the newcomer. Jihoon did not know of his identity but it is probably the Royal Preceptor with how the princes revered him.
“It is my fault. His Highness Prince Lee and Prince Ryu have done nothing wrong. It was this one who was overcome by rage and let his anger get the best of him. Please punish me instead.”
“Jihoon!” He heard her mother’s distressed call.
Jihoon resolutely kept his head down.
A rustle of fabrics. Soft sighs. Silent steps.
A pair of feet clad in lavish at best, ostentatious at worst boots stopped in front of him.
“Prince. Raise your head.” That cool, soothing voice commanded with no less authority than the emperor himself.
Jihoon raised his head.
Oh.
A pair of genteel eyes blinked, steady and resolute but no less beautiful than his heart-shaped lips mouthing words ballads that floated over Jihoon’s head. Those same pink, soft lips pronounced the syllables of his name, and Jihoon muttered a quick thanks to his late father, honoring him for giving Jihoon such a lovely name that the fairy- no, the goddess uttered. Pale hands gestured at him to stand, and isn’t it such a great thing that Jihoon is alive and well and can move accordingly?
The nymph continued to speak while Jihoon trained his gaze in the way his eyelashes touch his cheeks - his cheeks so pale and bright that the moonlight would be ashamed of its beauty. Circle-rimmed glasses perked atop his nose, and, unexpectedly, framed his loveliness all the more.
“...and let us give compensation for the problem our family caused.” He finished.
His mother vehemently shook his head. “How can we impose-”
“Hey.”
Queen Jihye abruptly stopped. “Jihoon…?”
Jihoon dropped to his knees once more, looking up earnestly at the personification of beauty in front of him.
“Will you honor this one of being my wife?” Jihoon managed to blurt out amidst all the emergency alarms blaring in his head - all are suspiciously shouting at him to marry the newcomer.
“I…” Jihoon mused over, taking a deep breath. “I shall treasure you far greater than I do the treasure that which is desired in this world. I shall offer you my heart, my body, and my soul. It is with happiness that I have realized the purpose of my being in this world. It is to cherish you for all the breaths I take, for all the thoughts that I’ll have, and for all the beats my heart will make.”
Jihoon ignored the jaw-dropped shock of everyone, including the princes.
“I can offer you nothing short of everything that composes the very being of Jeong Jihoon. Tell me, godded. Will you give me a chance to love you for the remainder of the time that you walk this Earth?”
Blank eyes stared at him.
“Well..” the beauty started, looking away from Jihoon’s intense gaze.
If Jihoon was a dog, his ears would’ve flattened by now.
“I… did not think this was the alliance you wanted.” He returned his gaze towards Jihoon once more.
“Stand up, Prince.” He ordered, not unkindly. “Let us discuss more about the, ah, marriage alliance you wanted. Although…” He tilted his head (‘cutely’), pondering about something.
“I believe I cannot marry out, Prince.”
Offended gasps rang.
“Your Majesty?!”
“Your Majesty!”
Jihoon frowned at the two princes looking at the Preceptor in disbelief.
‘Your Majesty? They value the Preceptor that much?’
The Preceptor merely smiled. “Ever since I ascended the throne, there was no one courageous enough to speak their affections that blatantly to me. The Jeong family truly embodies their motto.”
“Yes, Preceptor. ‘To be courageous is to be righteous.’ I would shame my late father if I did not have the courage to give you the righteous affection that you deserved.”
The Preceptor smiled, albeit he blinked confusedly. “Preceptor…?”
“How insolent you are!” A person pointed at him with a trembling hand.
Jihoon knows him. Prince Moon Hyunjoon, the Fourth Prince.
“H-how-” he was stuttering because of his mortification.
“Courages, indeed.” An awed voice stated. Jihoon gazed at a… duckling-like face. The Fifth Prince, Prince Choi Wooje.
“Yeah… Did he just propose to Sanghyeok-hyung?” Jihoon blinked at a guy holding a stack of books, soft-spoken and kind looking. The First Prince, Prince Choi Hyeonjoon.
“I believe he just did.” The Sixth Prince, Prince Kim Suhwan, nodded.
“Yeah. It’s the first time I got such an earnest proposal. Surely, I need to discuss more about it?” His goddess, the Preceptor raised a challenging brow.
Simultaneously, all princes bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. We heed our Emperor’s words.”
Jihoon’s thoughts blanked out.
‘Your Majesty…? The Emperor?!’
Jihoon glanced at his mother who mirrored his mortification.
“Yes, Prince?” His Majesty, the sole emperor in the world, the ruler of Tienwan, the legendary wielder of light, Emperor Sanghyeok replied: “You called?”
“Did… Did I just ask the… emperor to marry… me?” Jihoon trailed over.
His goddess Majesty smiled indulgingly.
“Oh. I’m fucked.”