Chapter Text
The year was 1867 in the ancient kingdom of Seikatsu Kingdom, a land of powerful clans, strict traditions, arranged unions, and a royal court so rotten with resentment that even the silken halls of the palace seemed cold no matter how many lanterns were lit through the night.
The rain had not stopped for hours.
It slid softly against the wooden palace walls while distant thunder echoed through the mountains surrounding the capital, and within the secluded chambers meant for the king’s official omega wife sat Yuuji, curled miserably against the edge of the window with tears slipping endlessly down his face.
“Here, Yuuji-sama, why do you not at least try the sweets from the Kamo clan?”
Megumi spoke carefully as he slowly lowered himself beside Yuuji on the tatami floor and offered him the tray resting in his hands, the delicate flower shaped sweets untouched beneath the dim lantern light.
Yuuji pushed the tray away weakly with trembling fingers before hiding his face against his sleeve again.
“I do not want them.”
His voice sounded small and exhausted. Like somebody who had spent too long crying alone.
Megumi’s chest tightened painfully at the sight because Yuuji always looked heartbreakingly beautiful when he cried, not beautiful in the polished way noble omegas were trained to appear but beautiful in the way wounded things often were, soft and sincere and devastatingly fragile.
His pink hair had fallen messily across his forehead from constantly burying his face into his arms, his swollen golden eyes red from sleepless nights and humiliation, his expensive robes hanging loosely around his smaller frame because he had begun losing weight since arriving at the palace five months ago.
Nobody needed to ask why.
The entire kingdom knew. The 15 year old omega wife of King Satoru Gojo remained untouched even after five months of marriage.
And in a royal family, that was not merely embarrassing.
It was dangerous.
The palace servants whispered constantly now, lowering their voices whenever Yuuji passed through the halls while pretending not to stare at his still flat stomach, and the court nobles had begun openly speculating whether the king found his official wife repulsive.
Some blamed Yuuji. Others blamed his bloodline. Most blamed both.
Because Yuuji belonged to the Ryomen Clan, the same clan responsible for years of destruction and bloodshed across Seikatsu Kingdom before the peace treaty forced this marriage into existence.
Entire villages had burned because of the Ryomen clan.
Families had lost sons and daughters.
Many people within the palace itself had buried loved ones because of that war.
Hatred toward the Ryomen name had rooted itself so deeply into the kingdom that even now people looked at Yuuji as though he personally carried every death on his shoulders.
Nobody tried learning who he actually was. Nobody cared that he smiled kindly at servants who insulted him behind his back.
Nobody cared that he apologized constantly even when others hurt him first. Nobody cared that he spent most nights alone crying himself to sleep in chambers far too large for one person.
Except Megumi.
Megumi had been allowed around Yuuji because he served as Gojo’s young alpha apprentice and because the king himself barely acknowledged his omega wife enough to care who visited him anymore.
At first Megumi expected Yuuji to be arrogant.
Cruel perhaps.
A spoiled political omega sent to secure peace through marriage. Instead he found someone painfully gentle.
Someone who thanked kitchen workers. Someone who fed stray palace cats in secret.
Someone who laughed nervously whenever insulted as though trying to make other people more comfortable while they hurt him.
And worst of all, someone unbelievably pretty.
Megumi hated admitting it even to himself, but Yuuji looked beautiful sitting beside the rain soaked window in his silk robes with tears caught against his lashes, beautiful enough to make Megumi furious every time he remembered how badly the king treated him.
Because Gojo never wanted Yuuji.
Not even a little.
Everybody knew the only omega Gojo had ever truly wanted was Suguru Geto. They have been friends since childhood.
Before political pressure and clan alliances poisoned everything, Gojo had planned to make Geto his official spouse, but the royal elders refused because Geto’s clan lacked the political importance needed to stabilize the kingdom after the war.
So instead the king was forced into having Geto as a concubine.
Even now Gojo practically lived in Geto’s residence rather than the royal palace itself. The king slept there most nights, ate there, drank there, and spent his days draped lazily beside Geto while the rest of the palace pretended not to notice that the official omega wife remained abandoned elsewhere.
Geto had already birthed two beta daughters for Gojo, beautiful dark haired children adored by the kingdom because they carried both the Gojo bloodline and the king’s affection.
Whenever Gojo was around them he smiled openly in ways Yuuji had never once seen directed toward himself.
The king carried the girls through the palace gardens proudly, allowed them to cling to his robes during meetings, kissed their foreheads absentmindedly while speaking with Geto as though they were a perfect family untouched by politics.
And sometimes Yuuji stood nearby silently watching all of it while trying not to cry.
The court noticed. They always noticed.
The noblewomen whispered cruelly behind jeweled fans whenever Yuuji entered banquet halls alone.
“There is the decorative wife.”
“Five months and still untouched.”
“I heard His Majesty cannot even bear sleeping near him.”
“The Ryomen omega should feel grateful he was not sent back already.”
The worst part was that Gojo heard those comments too.
And sometimes he laughed.. Just loud enough for Yuuji to understand that the king found his humiliation amusing.
Gojo was cruel to everyone in different ways. Even the other concubines never escaped it.
Utahime Iori openly despised the king and Gojo despised her equally, yet political obligations forced them into a union long enough to produce one omega daughter named Miwa. After Miwa’s birth they practically ceased interacting entirely.
Gojo never visited unless required by ceremony.
Utahime never invited him.
Miwa herself grew up distant and detached from her father, speaking to him with cold politeness whenever necessary while never once seeking affection from him because she learned very young that affection from Satoru Gojo always came with conditions.
Then there was Kento Nanami, the concubine most people believed Gojo respected.
It was not true.
The king simply found Nanami useful.
Gojo spent time with him because Nanami was intelligent enough to discuss finances, military affairs, and politics without becoming emotionally exhausting, but even Nanami suffered beneath the king’s cruelty.
Gojo mocked him constantly during private gatherings, ridiculed his serious nature in front of others, and often disappeared for weeks only to return expecting Nanami’s complete attention as though he were owed devotion from everyone around him.
Nanami tolerated it because refusing the king was impossible.
Sometimes Megumi noticed the exhausted look in Nanami’s eyes after Gojo left his residence.
The kind of exhaustion belonging to someone who had long accepted that kindness would never exist within this palace.
The darkest situation belonged to Yuuta. The young eighteen year old omega concubine feared Gojo so deeply that servants lowered their voices whenever discussing him.
Yuuta had attempted escape multiple times during his first year in the palace.
Once he tried bribing guards. Another time he disappeared into the forests surrounding the capital before being dragged back half frozen days later.
After the third attempt Gojo ordered him confined permanently within a separate residence under heavy guard.
Now the king spent exactly two nights every week there. The servants always heard Yuta crying afterward.
Nobody intervened...nobody dared.
And through all of this cruelty, through all the humiliation and abandonment and coldness filling every corner of the palace, Yuuji still loved Gojo desperately enough to wait for him every night.
That was perhaps the saddest thing of all. Tonight had been especially cruel.
During the banquet for Gojo's 30th birthday, Yuuji had quietly approached the king holding a cup of sake with both hands only for Gojo to glance at him briefly before turning back toward Geto with visible annoyance.
“You are blocking the light,” Gojo had said flatly in front of the entire court.
People laughed immediately. Yuuji apologized.
Apologized.
As though he had truly done something wrong.
Later one of Geto’s daughters asked innocently why “Father’s real omega” looked sad all the time while Yuuji stood close enough to hear every word.
Gojo did not correct her. He merely smiled faintly and continued speaking with Geto while Yuuji quietly left the banquet hall alone.
And now here he was again. Crying into his sleeves while rain fell outside.
Megumi slowly moved closer beside him. Yuuji looked so unbearably lonely that it made something angry twist violently inside Megumi’s chest.
“You should sleep, Yuuji-sama,” he murmured softly.
Yuuji shook his head immediately before glancing weakly toward the door.
“What if Satoru-sama comes tonight?”
Megumi nearly felt sick hearing the hope still lingering in his voice. Because they both knew Gojo would not come.
The king was most likely tangled beside Geto already while Yuuji waited here alone like a discarded thing nobody wanted.
Still Yuuji kept waiting. Even after five months of neglect.
Even after endless ridicule. Even after becoming the palace’s favorite target for mockery.
Megumi gently reached forward before carefully wiping another tear from Yuuji’s cheek with his thumb. Yuuji looked up at him with swollen eyes filled with so much quiet pain that Megumi’s heart ached.
“You deserve somebody kinder than him,” Megumi whispered before he could stop himself.
Yuuji smiled sadly. “But he is my husband.”