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Daehyun lowers himself in the steaming water, sighing in content as he is fully submerged. With heavy arms, he scrubs at his skin, fighting the urge to rest his head against a towel and fall asleep. Today has been a long day for him, as he saw to the final preparations for their journey and assiduously continued with his fighting lessons. He wishes to think he has improved tremendously ever since Kang, his master at arms, deemed him skilled enough to continue the practice with the soldiers. He did, however, practice with Yongguk before, the commander of his army, until the strangest of things started happening to Daehyun during the heated bouts of fighting, so he politely told Yongguk he should stop taking away any more of his time as he could practice with the other soldiers. Yongguk looked unmistakably surprised and maybe even hurt at that, but agreed nonetheless. Daehyun is his king, after all. The king always gets what he wants.
With a sigh, Daehyun allows his head to rest against a soft towel. He starts to think, of the past, the present, but mostly of the future. Soon, sooner than he still finds hard to believe, he will board the ship that will take him home. He, with his fleet, his army, and his treasured council, will set to the Southern Kingdom, to take the Usurper King down and retake the throne that is his by birthright.
Daehyun’s eyes fall to a close, his mind filled with expectations, high hopes, and reasonable fears. Before he knows it, he falls into a slumber, surrounded by perfumed warm water. A gentle tap on his shoulder startles him moments later and he is greeted by the sheepish smile of Kiyiya, his handmaid.
“You asked to be awoken were you to fall asleep, Your Grace,” she says as an excuse.
“Of course. I remember.” He bears the girl no grudge; though he wouldn’t mind going back to sleep surrounded by warmth, the water is bound to cool with time.
She helps him dry with soft towels and rub rose oil into his skin to keep it nourished and soft. Daehyun feels a little foolish whenever this ritual or any other regarding personal care occurs, though Kiyiya reminds him every time he protests that this is a handmaid’s attribution. “Also, taking care of you is what I want to do.”
Daehyun smiles as her dark, kohl-lined eyes, scrutinize his hands, her fingers deftly rubbing the oil into his skin. “You are becoming calloused, Your Grace.”
“The mark of a fine warrior and a true king,” he simpers.
“Kings rarely have to take the sword in their own hands, as they have the finest soldiers at their disposal to do all the fighting for them.”
“Oh?” Daehyun raises an eyebrow. “How is a king supposed to inspire his men with courage and loyalty if not by fighting by their side in times of conflict? A craven man who hides behind a crown is not worth following.” Her thumbs trace patterns into his palms. “Not me. I will fight with my people, retake what is ours.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she smiles, her dark orbs boring into his. For a second, Daehyun expects her to flick him on the nose like she used to when they were children, but she does not. If there is one thing he misses most after growing into his kingly attributions, is the loss of the easiness people could approach and talk to him.
“Your Grace is the bravest king the realms have ever known,” she adds and then moves to fetch a night robe for him.
“Leave that,” he waves, “I don’t wish to bother with it tonight.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
He gives her a stern look and she smiles, plump lips over white teeth, the kind of sweet with a dash of insolence smile she would give him as a child.
“You do that only to annoy me,” he says as he slides under the sheets. He almost sighs as the silk glides over his skin.
“What, Your Grace?”
“That. Calling me that. You seem to forget that I do have a name.”
She sits on the bed by his side without an invitation. With gentle hands, she brings the covers up to lay upon his body.
“What would your lords and ladies think if they heard me call you by your name?”
Daehyun scoffs, “I don’t care what they think. They all know what you are to me. You are my sister.”
“Then, why have I never gotten a highborn for a husband?” she raises her eyebrows.
Daehyun opens his mouth to say something, but she stops him, “No, I didn’t mean it like that, Daehyunnie. It was a joke, don’t feel guilty. Mother always taught me to know my place in this world and I am content with how my life looks like now. Plus, we are not related by blood, are we?”
“But your life could be easier,” he says with guilt in his voice.
Kiyiya smoothes over his wrist. “I don’t want it to be. I have you, I have my husband. I am happy as I am. I was never made to wear silks all the time, have somebody else do everything for me, and be married to some boring old lord I’ve never even met before.”
Daehyun tries to make peace with the thought, telling himself that Kiyiya wants nothing more of him than he has already given her. If it were by his desire, he would have elevated her to the rank of princess so she could be cherished and respected as a true lady. He cares not that she is not highborn as he is. Kiyiya and her mother are the only family he ever had. His father was slain on the battlefield, his mother dead shortly after birthing him. Kiyiya’s took him in when Kiyiya had seen only five springs and they were raised as siblings.
“Mother would be proud of you,” she says with a small smile on her lips. “Both your mothers.”
That has Daehyun’s eyes well up with tears and before he knows it, he is weeping in Kiyiya’s arms.
“Oh, Daehyunnie,” she smoothes over his hair, holding him close. Her voice trembles, and Daehyun knows she is crying, too.
“We shouldn’t cry,” he says, wiping furiously at his cheeks. “We should rejoice. On the morrow, we will set sail to retake my kingdom.”
She caresses his cheeks with warm hands. Her touch reminds him of her mother’s, and Daehyun wants to ask her to stay, to hold him as he falls asleep like they used to in their childhood. Kiyiya has a husband now; many things that were appropriate then would not be today. A soft knock at the door disrupts the silence settled between them.
“Who could it be at such a late hour?” Daehyun asks, a slight frown settling between his brows.
“Whoever it may be, it must be important.”
Kiyiya rises and hands him a night robe, helping him slip into it. Once he is decent, she goes to open the door. Yongguk slips past her after a hushed greeting. At once, Daehyun’s face lights up when his eyes meet Yongguk’s.
“Your Grace,” Yongguk starts, “I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour.”
“Lord Commander,” Daehyun says with a hardly suppressed smile. He seems at a loss for words until his eyes find Kiyiya’s. “Kiyiya, leave us,” he commands with a soft tone.
“At once, Your Grace,” she bows and departs with a knowing look on her face.
Yongguk takes in Daehyun’s appearance, dressed only in a thin, azure night robe. He takes in the soft contours, the glow of Daehyun’s skin, his unruly damp hair. He averts his eyes when they travel to the loose V of his robe, prompting Daehyun to tuck it closer to his body, his cheeks warming up.
“What brings you to my chambers, Lord Commander?”
“I—“ Yongguk looks troubled and, for the first time, almost embarrassed, Daehyun thinks. Yongguk is a man of few words; however, no matter how little he speaks, he can always find suitable words through his eloquence. Daehyun encourages him with a smile. “I must say, I do not have a founded reason. I only wanted to see you.”
“Oh?” Daehyun blinks.
“Tomorrow is going to be an important day for all of us. But it is going to be more so for you, Your Grace. Are you nervous?”
It’s the same thing Kiyiya asked him, yet the level of intimacy between them cannot be paralleled. They grew up together, hid under the same skirts, shared the same bed, and she saw him wet himself through nightmares.
“I am,” Daehyun admits with a sigh. If there is anyone else besides Kiyiya with whom he can be completely honest with, then that is Yongguk. The man grounds him and gives him a sense of safety few others could. With him by his side, Daehyun is certain he can win any battle.
Yongguk offers a small smile. “It would be unwise not to be.”
“Any man without fears is a fool,” Daehyun muses, remembering having heard the words through his childhood.
“Are you afraid we might fail?”
The question surprises Daehyun. He had given it thought, but not enough to grow its roots into his mind.
“No. Our fleet is larger, our army outnumbers theirs, and our soldiers are more educated and skilled. I also have the best army commander any king could dream of having. We have no reason to fail.”
A proud flush decorates Yongguk’s cheeks. Daehyun can’t stop from noticing how charming he looks like this. Yongguk is stern and taciturn, exuding the experience and modest confidence that only comes with age. Almost ten years Daehyun’s senior, he can always be seen garbed in the conservative army uniform, but in rare moments, his grounding and charismatic aura shines through, leaving Daehyun blinded for too short precious moments. Yongguk was born a true leader, one who inspires loyalty and respect, who makes his people follow him not with words, but with facts. Sometimes, Daehyun reckons Yongguk would make a better king than him, perhaps.
“We do not have, indeed. We have prepared intensely for this moment. The time is ripe now.”
As Yongguk moves towards him, the blues of his uniform glimmering, Daehyun wonders what has he come here for exactly. Small talk was never his strength, and the subject of discussion is not pressing enough.
“Your Grace,” Yongguk begins, close to Daehyun.
It is the first time they stand so close to each other outside of training combat, Daehyun notices. The brief sense of discomfort arises only because of how different this situation is. The beat of his heart picks up the pace, his cheeks heating as he gazes into Yongguk’s intense eyes.
“I don’t know how to begin,” he continues apologetically. He takes Daehyun’s hands in his and doesn’t let go, despite the king’s shocked stare. “I admit my timing may be unfit, but at the same time, I thought there is no better time for me to say what I have to say.”
Daehyun can hear his blood rushing in his ears. Yongguk gazes at him with such intensity, that Daehyun cannot tell what it means, nor if he should believe in the first explanation that comes to his mind. This is a night of firsts, he observes, his heart racing as he waits for Yongguk to finish what he has to say. The first time they are close to each other in such a setting, the first time Yongguk talks so much all at once without Daehyun prodding.
The commander heaves a nervous laugh. “I came with my words prepared, but it seems they have deserted me. Your Grace…”
Yongguk never finishes his sentence, nor can Daehyun anticipate what he was about to say. Instead, the commander tugs his king close to his body, his lips covering soft, plump ones. Daehyun has no time to react, nor to fully register what is happening. Yongguk’s tongue prods at the seam of Daehyun’s lips and, having a mind of their own, they open to let the warm muscle pass. Yongguk kisses him as if he had been famished and Daehyun can barely keep up, almost a passive participant.
When they part, Daehyun is breathless and flushed, but Yongguk is glowing.
“You—You shouldn’t—shouldn’t have done that…” Daehyun tries, clutching at his chest.
“I should have done that a long time ago,” Yongguk contradicts. “Daehyun,” he takes his hands again. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You were but a child then, but you grew up to be the bravest, kindest and most intelligent man I have ever met. The world was made for you to rule it, as I was made to obey your command. If you will still allow me, I will be forever yours, forever loyal, forever loving.”
The commander looks at him with all the hope in the world, light seeping through his eyes and his blinding and unrestrained smile. Daehyun feels dizzy, the world around him warping into the fuzziness of a dream.
“I know you are to marry a Southron lady to please the Southron lords,” he says with acceptance.
“I do not need to make any such alliances to please anyone,” Daehyun protests, finding the only words that would come to him. “I am the heir to the throne, I have the rightful claim.”
Yongguk smiles, hopeful. His eyes, however, turn downcast as different thoughts come over him. “But if you decide to cast me away—“
“No,” Daehyun stops him.
He knows he should be outraged and punish Yongguk accordingly. Nobody should have the liberty to behave like that around him, let alone kiss him, without prior permission. He is the king, he should be respected, and this is insolence. Had it been anyone else, Daehyun would have them punished.
“Stay.”
Deep down in his heart, Daehyun knows this is what he had always wanted to hear. When he was a child and he was admiring Yongguk’s formidable skill in battle even then, when he would observe him from afar, when he was bribing Kiyiya with cakes so she would tell where to find him. Daehyun had always wanted this from Yongguk without ever truly knowing it, and the smile that Yongguk gives him in return seals everything into place.
“And kiss me again,” he demands, already bringing their faces closer.
Smirking, Yongguk leans down into another kiss and this time, Daehyun puts his heart into it. Even after he is kissed thoroughly, left ravished and breathless, he demands for it again and again.
“I was made to please you,” Yongguk whispers against his lips and Daehyun groans at how that sounds. Yongguk laughs, pecking his nose.
Daehyun hides his face at the juncture of Yongguk’s neck, taking in his scent with a happy sigh. “I never knew until now how much I wanted to hear you say these words to me. I love you too, Yongguk, and together, together we’ll be formidable.”
Strong arms circle his waist and Daehyun feels secure and invincible.
***
The morning sun shines on the sky, its rays reflecting on the calm waves of the sea. Daehyun stands at the board of the ship, looking in the distance with equal parts nervousness and excitement. Yongguk comes by his side. They share a smile and Daehyun takes his hand, bold and unabashed, uncaring of who might see. A new unprecedented intimacy simmers between them after the night spent together, the feeling of invincibility still lingering around Daehyun.
His voice comes out as a gasp of awe, “This is really happening. Years and years I have dreamt of it, and now it is finally a reality.”
Yongguk gives his fingers a squeeze.
“Believe it, Daehyun. The life you have always wanted is about to begin.”