Chapter Text
Chapter 1
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Felix let out a shaky sigh as he stood in front of the full-body mirror, wearing beige slacks and a poet shirt, fumbling with a cream-coloured waist cincher.
“You can do this,” he muttered, his voice thin and unsteady, taking a deep breath before sucking in his stomach and tightening the strings of the waist cincher, his eyes flicking up as a knock on the door echoed through the room.
“Just a second!” Felix called out, his voice cracking slightly under the strain. Panic spiked in his chest as his fingers grew clumsy, desperately trying to knot the silk strings behind his back. The fabric bit into his ribs, forcing his breath to catch at the top of his throat, but he ignored the faint dizziness. It was a small price to pay. Snatching a silver-backed hairbrush from the vanity, he aggressively smoothed down a few rogue, blond strands, staring intently into the glass to ensure not a single hair was out of place. He adjusted the collar of his shirt with trembling hands, forcing his shoulders back into a rigid, perfect posture. He had to look perfect. Of course he had to.
He was a prince after all.
A perfect prince.
His white oxfords clicked against the polished marble floor, his hand resting on the metal doorknob as he pulled it open, revealing his older brother, smiling brightly, dimples sunken deep in his cheeks as he embraced Felix in a big, warm hug.
Felix laughed breathlessly. This waist cincher was already suffocating him. He could barely handle Chan’s big hugs.
“Your piano teacher is here,” Chan said brightly, his smile still there as he fixed Felix’s hair gently.
Felix let out a sigh, returning Chan’s smile quietly as he nodded. Chan’s brow furrowed as he noticed Felix's irregular breathing.
“Hey, let me fix that,” Chan murmured, his tone shifting as he noticed Felix's stiff frame, his large, warm hands gently turning him toward the mirror. Felix felt the slight pull as Chan deftly untangled the messy knot, carefully loosening the canvas panels of the cincher just a fraction of an inch.
A quiet, shaky gasp escaped Felix’s lips as the crushing pressure subsided. Air finally rushed into his lungs, cool and grounding. His entire body went slack with relief, his shoulders dropping from their forced, rigid posture.
“You don't need to suffocate yourself to look like a prince, Lix,” Chan said softly, meeting his brother’s eyes in the reflection as he tied a neat, secure knot. He patted Felix’s shoulder, lingering for a moment. “Father wants to see you in the study right after your lesson. Just... play your best today, okay? Good luck.”
Felix’s stomach dropped slightly at the mention of their father, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. A middle-aged woman with a strict, impeccable bun appeared at the end of the corridor. With a polite nod to the princes, she gestured for Felix to follow her to the music room for his lesson.
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An hour of Felix’s fingers dancing across polished piano keys and his piano teacher fixing even the slightest mistakes drained Felix’s energy. His fingers ached, his back stiff and hurting from the immense pressure. But he had to be perfect.
A perfect prince.
He sighed, collecting himself as he dragged himself to the grand hall, each step echoing in his ears as the tension coiled into a tight spring in his chest, bracing himself as he pushed the heavy oak doors open. Immediately, his father’s intimidating presence filled the room, making Felix slowly suffocate on the inside.
The big oak doors closed behind Felix. The sound was muted by the thick velvet curtains that covered the huge hall. The room was so big that it made Felix feel miniscule. With his father sitting at the other end, the space felt like the air would wrap around his neck and suffocate him. The curved windows cast long, harsh shadows across the shiny floor all the way to where Felix stood still at the entrance.
His father did not look up. He sat behind a mahogany desk, and the only sound was the scratch of his pen on thick paper, which broke the uncomfortable silence. Every time the pen scratched, it felt like a tick of a clock, making Felix's chest feel even tighter. The King sat up straight, which was something Felix had tried to do his whole life but could never quite get right.
"You are late, " his father said. His voice was not loud. It felt heavy and made the room feel colder.
Felix swallowed hard. His throat felt dry. He put his hands by his sides. He hid the fact that his fingers were shaking a little, which still hurt from the piano lesson. "Madame NingNing wanted to go over the part one more time, Father," Felix said, and his voice sounded too quiet in the big room.
The King put his pen down quietly. He looked up at Felix with sharp eyes that made him feel like he was being examined. He did not say anything about Felix being late. Instead, he looked at Felix's posture, clothes, and everything about him to see if there was anything about the way he presented himself as a prince.
"Come closer," his father told him, pointing to the space in front of the desk.
Felix took a breath, and the tight band around his waist felt constricting as he made himself walk forward. Each step across the floor felt like walking on a thin line, knowing that one wrong move or sign of weakness would ruin everything he had worked for.
His father got up slowly. Walked around the big desk until he was right in front of Felix. He didn't say anything about the hours Felix spent practicing piano or ask how Felix was doing. Instead, he looked closely at Felix, checking out his body and the shake still in his fingers.
"Your hands are shaking, " the King said, his voice flat and cold. "A prince in this kingdom can't show weakness, Felix. Not in front of people. Not in front of me."
Felix squeezed his hands into fists behind his back, trying hard to stop the shaking. "Yes, Father. I'm sorry."
"Madame NingNing says you play the piano well, but you don't play with feeling, " his father said, walking slowly around Felix. "You play like you're scared of the keys. You walk around these halls like you're scared of your shadow. Look at your brother. Chan acts like he can handle his responsibilities with confidence. You, on the other hand, look like you might break if someone just looks at you wrong."
The words hurt, hitting the spots where Felix already felt insecure about himself. He looked ahead at the dark velvet curtains, keeping his face completely still and forcing himself to breathe slowly and calmly so he wouldn't choke on the air in the room. He had spent his life trying to be perfect, trying to be the great son his father wanted, but it never seemed to be good enough.
"The Kim and the Yang family will be here tomorrow. I expect better," the King said coldly, going back to his desk and picking up his pen, ignoring Felix without another look. “You are dismissed.”
Felix looked down, a lump forming in his throat as he took a shaky breath, ignoring tears pricking at his eyes as he quickly walked out, the rapid taps of his heels silenced by the velvet carpet. He swallowed thickly. He couldn't cry. He had to be perfect.
A perfect prince.