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His bruised knees ached against the cold stone of the castle floor.
They’d been kneeling for a while - him and the other potential consorts - long enough for some of the weaker ones to start squirming. They couldn’t be blamed for it, Minho’s entire body was screaming for him to move, to adjust - but he couldn’t. Not until it was his time to. Not until either his long-hidden affections were accepted by his best friend, in which he would be declared consort and mate to the youngest prince, or… or until he was rejected and promptly exiled from the castle, potentially the kingdom if Jisung was truly disgusted by his betrayal.
They’d known each other for many, many years - Minho doesn’t like to keep count, for the number always seems far too low in comparison to their bond. They met as children, unburdened by trivial things like titles and duty; just two young men who enjoyed each other's company, and used any excuse they could find to be together.
None of that changed when Minho presented as Alpha.
All of it changed when Jisung presented as Omega.
He hadn't seen the prince in months - the longest he’d ever gone without him - and he’d slowly been losing his mind. The younger had managed to sneak out to see him a few times since presenting, with the help and protection of his older brother Changbin - but those visits had been fleeting at best, and few and far between.
He knew he couldn’t go on like this. He missed the young prince far too much to accept that this forced distance was their future. He loved him far too much to accept it.
So by the time the announcement came that the castle was looking for an Alpha consort for their beloved Prince Jisung, his mind had already been made up.
Which led him here, knees aching against the hard stone, so cold to the touch it was like frozen daggers being thrust into his skin. His back was seconds from seizing up due to his rigid posture, his legs screaming for relief from their stiff position. He kept his head hung low, arms firmly clasped behind his back, his gaze firmly set on the ground in front of him. They had been sat there for a while, barely a whimper to echo around the large, cold room, so the ever growing ruckus filtering through from the hallway was quick to draw the attention of everyone.
Suddenly, the large doors of the throne room swung open. Minho suppressed a sigh of relief - some of the other suitors weren’t as subtle - as the three princes made their way into the room. The oldest and next in line for the throne, Prince Chan, walked slightly ahead of his two brothers, dressed in his traditional royal garb, features strong and regal, looking every bit the Alpha King he would one day become. Prince Changbin, the second brother, walked behind him, his gate confidence, his poise as sturdy as the soldiers he trained with. He, like his older brother, was an alpha. And lastly, Prince Jisung, the only omega. Minho’s breath caught in his throat; Prince Jisung walked behind them like a prisoner being guided to his execution. Adorned in the softest fabrics, his shawl a white purer than the wings of the most heavenly angel; he was a vision of majesty and misery.
The three of them came to a stop in front of the line of suitors, not a single word uttered between. The eldest silently regarded the men kneeling in front of him, his eyes occasionally looking to his brothers to gauge their reactions. Changbin met his gaze. Jisung didn’t.
Minho forced his own gaze back to the stone floor, just in time for him to see the polished shoe of the future king step forward, addressing the crowd.
“Good evening, gentlemen”, he called, voice like thunder in the blistering quiet of the hall, “Thank you for gathering here today, and I apologise for our… delay. I can’t imagine you are comfortable sat like that-”
His attempt at humor was quickly suffocated in the icy stillness of the men before him; the suitors were not to move or talk unless explicitly told otherwise. It was meant as a sign of devotion, that you were committed to the Prince even if it brought you pain and discomfort. If it meant he could spend even a moment with Jisung alone, he would spend the rest of his life on his knees.
There was a deep sigh from the eldest Prince, before those polished shoes began to pace, slowly tracing the length of the line. He pictures the Prince’s stern face, eyes scanning each potential suitor, calculating their faults and favours. He dreaded the reaction when those eyes reached him.
“As you are aware, we are here today so that my brother, Prince Jisung, may choose a consort and mate, at the behest of Her Majesty, the Queen. Our mother.” A stretch of silence followed his words, before another deep sigh. “As his consort, you will be expected to aid him with his Princely duties, accompany him to royal galas and events, and maintain a polished reputation at all times. Do you understand?”
A chorus of confirmations range through the hall.
“Good,” he continued, “and as his…As his mate, you will be expected to perform all the usual duties one can expect. This includes… bonding with the Prince, sharing and aiding in his cycles, and… providing heirs.”
Another stretch of silence proceeded before he continued, voice far weaker than it had been before. “Do you understand?”
Another wave of affirmatives echoed in Minho’s ears.
The eldest prince cleared his throat once again. “Good. Then we shall proceed to the next stage.” He stepped back towards his two brothers, head bent low as he whispered something to Changbin, far too muffled for anyone else to make out. After a moment, he turned back to the crowd.
“For this next stage, you should have all been told beforehand to be clean and leave your scent unblocked. My brother is going to inspect each of you for compatibility. Hopefully one of you will be… enough.”
His pulse spiked. He knew it was a matter of time before he was discovered by the prince, but now the time was upon him he felt the weight of his reality bearing down on his chest, his heart racing as he desperately tried to control his breathing.
There would be no way Jisung would scent him and not recognise him. Through his haze of panic, one question rang clear; how has he not already? As Chan stated, they were all given firm instructions to be cleaned and primed with their natural scent. Surely he must have smelt him already.
An icy chill ran down his spine.
Was that why he appeared so upset? Had he smelt Minho’s presence and the knowledge of his feelings had burdened him so greatly he looked as though he were to be put to death?
Minho allowed himself a moment of weakness, tilting his head slightly in search of the youngest prince, who was still stood sullenly beside his brother. His face was shrouded by the billowing fabric, but from the angle of his head it was clear the younger man was focused on nothing but the same cold floor Minho had spent the last hour or so watching. He wondered what he was thinking as he stared, what was going through his mind as his brother prepped the men in front of him, one of whom would one day be his consort, his mate, his husband.
Did he want this?
His heart ached. There was no way he wanted this.
All Minho wanted to do was rise from his spot, run towards the melancholic prince, and scoop him up in his arms, whispering reassurances as he took him away from all these strangers to somewhere safe. But he couldn’t. So he stayed.
Gaze firmly back on the floor, he listened as the future king ushered his younger brother forward, guiding him to the first man. They had started on the opposite side of the line to where he currently knelt. He prayed Jisung wouldn’t choose anyone before he had a chance to explain himself.
Chan spoke once more. “Prince Jisung will now begin his inspections. If he asks you a question, you answer it. If he asks you to move, you move without further questions. If he dismisses you, you accept it without complaint. Do you understand?”
It is only once the eldest Prince is satisfied with the response does he allow Jisung to lower his shawl. Minho heard a gasp ring out from beside him, the sound matching his own surprise.
The young prince was wearing a mask, one of thick fabric that clung to his nose and jaw. How he was able to breathe, Minho had no idea, but it was clear that this piece of fabric was the reason Jisung was yet to notice his presence.
He took a slow and steady breath, willing the bile slowly rising from his stomach to cease.
In theory, it made sense. Where the mask to block out the overpowering scents of the alphas, allowing his mind to be clear to inspect each man individually. However, it now meant that each alpha was to witness the Prince’s reactions to their scent for the first time in real time, and for many that thought was… daunting.
As Jisung stepped forward, head hung low as he approached the first suitor, Chan continued.
“The mask the prince is wearing is infused with a mixture of herbs and oils to neutralise other smells while wearing it. After inspecting compatibility with each alpha, Prince Jisung will use the mask to move onto the next man. This will allow him clear of mind - and nose - to analyse each scent without bias. It also means he will only be able to smell the alpha in front of him, again so as to not cloud his judgement.”
The room watched with bated breath as Jisung carefully tilted his head, breathing in a deep breath of the alphas scent.
Nothing. There was no reaction. No hum of delight, no recoil in disgust, nothing. No acknowledgement whatsoever. After a second, he raised his head again and, without saying a word, shook it once.
Rejected.
The alpha stood gracefully, bowing deep towards the three princes before turning and leaving the hall without a sound.
The room remained deafeningly quiet as the heavy doors slammed closed again, before a soft huff from the middle prince shattered it. The eldest glared at his brother, before clearing his throat once more.
“Okay, next.”
It continued like this as they shuffled their way down the line. Each time, the prince would remove his mask, take a deep breath of scent, and shake his head. Without saying a single word, he rejected alpha after alpha. No questions were asked, no second breaths were taken. No eyes were ever met. It was cold, detached. Swift. It was clear to everyone in the room that the youngest prince did not wish to find his mate in such a way.
As the two princes drew nearer, Minho felt his pulse begin to spike once again. Still keeping his gaze forward, he watched out of the corner of his eye as one after the other were rejected. Some left much like the first, with grace and dignity. Others, such as the one a few men down from him, had made a bit more of a ruckus - opening his mouth to argue the prince’s blatant disinterest. However, one stern glare from Chan had sent him scuttering out like a rat.
They were close now. His heart was beating so fast he thought he could hear its echo bounce against the stone walls, like thunder on a summer night. Or maybe the deafening sound was in his ears alone.
Another alpha rejected. Another man closer.
He closed his eyes. All of his energy and focus centered on his breathing; keeping it steady against the tsunami inside him. Keep his breathing steady, and his mind would surely follow.
Breathe in.
He heard the rustle of clothes as another man rose to his feet.
Breathe out.
The footsteps of the last alpha had barely faded when another man rose with a grumble under his breath.
Breathe in.
Another snort from Changbin accompanied more rustling. He wonders what caused that.
Breathe out.
A gasp filled the room. Jisung’s gasp. It was the first sound he’d made all day.
Breathe in- wait.
Breathe in… that scent. That scent… Jisung.
His hands trembled behind his back as he slowly opened his eyes. As the world around him came into view, his eyes burned at the sudden onslaught of bright fabric filled his vision, like a beacon light that stood out against the harsh, cold stone of the room. He slowly looked up, heart racing ever faster, knowing what he would find, and yet-
Those eyes. Those big, brown, doe eyes. Jisung.
“Minho-hyung!” His voice was rough, choked back as he regarded the man before him.
Minho didn’t respond. He couldn’t break now.
The omega frowned. “Hyung, why are you here?”
A question. He’s allowed to answer that. He smiled.
“I’m here for you, Jisungie.”
For the first time all evening, real emotion appeared on the omega's face as he scowled.
“Lee Minho, if you are here out of pity-”
“Why would it be pity when it is instead love, Jisung?”, he responded, cutting the prince off. When the announcement that the omega prince was looking for a consort and mate had reached him, he had made the decision then and there that he would tell Jisung how he felt. If he decided not to have him, then that was understandable. But there was no reality where he would leave this room without the prince knowing.
The doe-eyed omega stared at him, brows furrowed. “What?”
Chan cut in. “Jisung, do you know this man?”
Minho heard Changbin snort again from behind the two other princes. While Minho and Jisung had been childhood friends, scarcely did he see the elder two princes; they were often busy with tutoring and training that was simply not expected of the third prince. When he did see one of them, it was always the young soldier, as being the second born allowed him a smidgen more free time. But even then, never had Minho seen him so frequently as when he had been helping Jisung visit him those few months. All that is to say, despite his close relationship with his brother, it was of no surprise to Minho that the would-be-king did not know who he was.
But Jisung did not respond to his brother, instead staring down at the alpha with distrust and confusion. “What did you say?”
Behind his back, Minho curled his shaking fingers around one another. He smiled up at the omega- at his omega. “I said I love you, Jisung. I am here not out of pity, but as a suitor. I am here hoping, begging, for a chance to be yours.”
Another gasp escaped the omega, this one wet with withheld tears.
Barely a breath could be heard as the deafening silence returned to the room. Minho felt the watchful eyes of the other alphas on him, their gaze like a blazing inferno on his skin. So much time had passed, seconds that felt like hours, that he began to accept his fate, that he too would be rejected, just like all the other alphas. He only hoped Jisung would keep him in his life.
When suddenly the omega opened his mouth, eyes never straying from the alpha before him. His voice was wrecked with emotion, eyes glazed over with tears. With the softest whisper, he announced, “I have chosen.”
The eldest prince watched his brother closely, silently scanning his face for regret. “Are you sure, Jisung? You haven’t even smelt him.”
A wet laugh escaped him, a smile so big it looked as though it were to tear his face in two. “Yes I have, Hyung. For he is my alpha.”
Relief flooded through Minho like the crashing of ocean waves. He couldn’t breathe, so elated with the words spoken that his heart had stopped beating, his lungs had stopped working.
The eldest prince hummed.
“Very well. So be it.” With that, he stepped away, turning towards the remaining alphas. “Gentlemen,” he called, “I am delighted to announce that my brother has found his future mate. I thank you all for attending this wonderful event.”
The ringing in his ears drowned out anything else that was spoken, his worldview zeroed in on the beautiful man in front of him. The man who would be his. His omega.
Jisung laughed, voice cracking under the sound. He reached out his hands, gently tugging at Minho’s arms to remove them from behind his back. His legs screamed as he stood, muscles seising from so long in one position, but he barely even noticed. He wrapped his fingers in Jisung’s, beaming back his own bright smile, laughing his own cracked laugh.
Beside them, Changbin came to a stop.
“Come”, he said, head tilting towards the doors, “I’ll chaperone you out.”
The two barely noticed as he called out to the eldest brother, informing him of their departure. So enrapt in one another, they barely noticed the grumbling herds of men vacating the hall beside them. The only thing Minho felt was the weight of Jisung’s hand in his, the only thing he heard was his name on Jisung’s lips, the only thing he saw was the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.
The man he had loved for so long.
The man who was finally, finally his.