Archive of Our Own

The Kingdom of Seranthia was a kingdom built on discipline. Its soldiers marched in perfect formation. Its banners never dipped. Its walls had never once been breached under the command of General Choi Seungcheol, the strongest alpha the kingdom had ever known.

He was broad-shouldered, scarred from countless campaigns, and possessed a reputation that frightened even neighbouring kings into reconsidering war. He smiled rarely (laughed almost never and children hid behind their mothers whenever the General rode through the capital) except for one.

Prince Yoon Jeonghan.

The only child of the king who was an omega with long golden hair that looked almost silver beneath the morning sun.

Jeonghan was kind, gentle with a personality completely opposite to Seungcheol and was  incapable of fearing Choi Seungcheol. "General!"

His voice echoed across the training grounds. Every knight who was training stiffened immediately and several exchanged horrified looks. The prince was running to the grounds. His robes gathered in one hand while the other held...flowers.

"Oh no, not again." one knight muttered.

Seungcheol didn't even turn around. He recognised that cheerful voice before the footsteps reached him. "What is it, Your Highness?"

Jeonghan appeared beside him, slightly breathless, smiling so brightly that the gloomy training ground seemed warmer. "I made you something."

"I don't need anything, Your Highness."

Jeonghan held up a flower crown. "But I made this for you anyway."

The soldiers collectively stopped sparring and everyone watched. Seungcheol looked at the crown and then at the prince. "Your Highness, I am a general. I fight with people. I don't wear them."

"Oh, come on. It'll suit you."

"It will not, Your Highness."

Jeonghan grinned. "It matches your eyes... please?"

Seungcheol sighed the sigh of a man who had survived battlefields but not one persistent omega. It has been going on for a while now. There were gasps that spread through the yard and Jeonghan was happy as if he'd conquered an empire.

Instead of placing the crown on Seungcheol's head, however... he carefully tucked a single tiny white daisy into the side of the General's iron helmet.

He stepped back proudly at looked back at it again. "There, it look perfect now."

There was one flower, a daisy, sitting on the terrifying General's helmet. A knight quietly whispered, "Is that a daisy?"

Seungcheol reached for it. Jeonghan immediately slapped his hand away. "No, you leave it. It is adorable."

"It makes me look weak."

"It makes you look approachable. People in the streets are already saying that you look very frightening"

"I don't wish to be approachable."

Jeonghan tilted his head. "What if, I do."

—

From that day onwards... there was always a flower. Somedays, it was a daisy, there were lavender or tiny blue cornflowers or yellow buttercups.

The palace staff whispered constantly, "The general has a weakness."

"Yes, he has a weakness, the biggest and greatest one and it is the prince."

Because Seungcheol was cold with everyone else. His orders were clipped, expression was always unreadable and his presence enough to silence entire halls.

But when Jeonghan wandered into a meeting carrying armfuls of wildflowers...

"...Your Highness." His voice always softened slightly enough for those paying attention, but everyone was paying attention on them.

—

Then there was flowers, every single morning to the point that the knights began placing bets. "What flower do you think General will receive today?"

"I placing my money on lavender."

"No, but I saw the prince picking roses yesterday from the garden."

"Five silver says daisies."

"General." Jeonghan appeared a few minutes later.

Today's flower was a tiny forget-me-not. Before Seungcheol could protest, Jeonghan tucked it beneath the leather strap holding the helmet together. "There,. You can go now and continue intimidating everyone."

Eventually, no one questioned it anymore as the terrifying General simply had flowers.

—

Months later, an ambassador from another kingdom arrived to visit. He had heard countless tales of General Choi. He was the Beast of Seranthia, the Iron Alpha, the King's Sword.

He entered the audience hall and looked up and froze. Standing beside the throne was the enormous General with his sword at his hip, his armour was polished and expression cold enough to freeze rivers. But a tiny pink flower was on his helmet.

The ambassador blinked. "Is that..."

The Prime minister looked at his son (Seungcheol) and answered with complete seriousness. "Our prince likes decorating the General."

"I..." Seungcheol tried to say something. But he got cut off by the ministers, "The General has accepted his fate."

Seungcheol pretended not to hear any of it.

—

One afternoon, Jeonghan wandered into the barracks carrying an enormous basket. The soldiers instantly smiled. "The prince is here!"

"I baked today." Cheers erupted from the soldiers. Jeonghan happily handed out little honey pastries and even the stable boys received one.

Finally, he walked up to Seungcheol. "I made yours separately."

The General accepted the small cloth-wrapped parcel. "...Thank you."

The surrounding knights froze.

Did...

Did the General just say thank you?

Jeonghan smiled. "I added less honey. I remembered that you said it was too sweet last time."

That sentence lingered in Seungcheol's mind long after Jeonghan had left. He remembered. He remembered his little preference like a small habit. The prince noticed things no one else did.

—

When every campaign came and Seungcheol prepared to leave, Jeonghan would wait beside the gate, holding out another flower. Whenever the General rode at the front, the soldiers found themselves glancing toward the little flower on his helmet.

It became a symbol as if the flower was still there (as he tried really hard to not drop it off), the General was safe. And if the General was safe, so were they.

When Seungcheol finally returned from the campaign, dusty and exhausted, the first person waiting at the gates wasn't the king or the ministers. It will always be Jeonghan. If he see there was a missing flower, he will place a new one on his helmet as if he was welcoming him back. If the old was still there, he took it off and placed a new one there.

One day, his fingers brushed the cool edge of the helmet before he patted it once, satisfied.

Seungcheol looked down at him. "You never stop putting flowers on my helmet."

Jeonghan laughed, sunlight catching in his blond hair. "Why would I stop doing it?"

"You know everyone thinks I'm terrifying and yet you insist on making me ride around the kingdom wearing flowers."

"They're not for everyone else."

Seungcheol blinked. Jeonghan said with an easy smile, "They're so that when I see you from the palace walls, I know exactly which knight is my General."

For perhaps the first time in years, the corners of Seungcheol's mouth lifted into the faintest smile.

It was barely there but the soldiers nearest the gate saw it. One quietly elbowed another. "Did... did the General just smile?"

"No. I don't see it. Did you?"

"Yes, I think he did."

"No one tell the kingdom," the older knight whispered. "His reputation would never recover."

Seungcheol simply adjusted the flower on his helmet, looked at the prince waiting patiently beside him, and for the first time made no attempt to remove it.

From that day on, no one in Seranthia ever saw the General ride into battle without a flower tucked into his helm, because everyone knew exactly who had placed it there.

And everyone knew there was only one person in the entire kingdom whom the Iron General had never learned how to refuse.

—

The morning the army departed, the palace gates were lined with nobles, servants, and anxious families. The horses stood still and banners bearing the kingdom's crest fluttered in the cool dawn breeze. General Choi sat atop his black stallion, already wearing the expression that had earned him his fearsome reputation.

The soldiers waited for his command. Instead, the crowd parted. A flash of pale blue and red robes and long golden hair came running down the palace steps. "General!"

Seungcheol didn't have to turn. He already knew who it was. The prince stopped in front of his horse, slightly out of breath, clutching something behind his back.

"Why did you wake up early, Your Highness" Seungcheol said climbing down from the horse.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye. I knew you will go without saying it."

His blonde hair shimmered beneath the morning sun, a little messy from rushing out so quickly. A tiny braid was woven into one side, decorated with white baby's breath flowers.

He held up a fresh flower bracelet. "I made you another one."

A few nearby soldiers smiled knowingly. Seungcheol sighed. "...put it on me."

Jeonghan blinked surprisingly, "Really?"

With a laugh, Jeonghan carefully settled the bracelet over the gauntlet. "There. It look good on you."

Seungcheol smiled. That is when he reached up, removing yesterday's slightly wilted daisy from Seungcheol's helmet. "I picked a new one."

Today's flower was a white carnations for good luck (as Jeonghan knew he was going to fight against the bandits). He carefully tucked it into place.

Seungcheol looked down at him. "...Thank you."

Jeonghan reached into his sleeve and produced a small cloth pouch. "There are snacks inside, because you forget to eat and I wanted to prepare it."

Seungcheol accepted the pouch without another argument. Suddenly all the noise, the whining of horse, the sounds of soldiers preparing to leave, everything felt very far away.

Jeonghan smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes as it carried a real worry. He hesitated before reaching for Seungcheol's gauntleted hand. "... please don't get hurt."

Seungcheol squeezed the prince's hand gently. "I'll be careful."

Jeonghan frowned. "I mean it. Whenever you come back, you come with scratches. But please be careful this time. I don't care if they're tiny, but I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I'll do my best, my prince."

Jeonghan shook his head firmly. "No. Not your best, just don't get hurt."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Seungcheol's lips. "I'll come back."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Jeonghan step aside and the army began marching through the palace gates, he waved until Seungcheol disappeared beyond the hills. The general never looked back. He couldn't look back as if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to leave.

—

Days passed by and every morning, Jeonghan asked the palace messengers the same question. "Any news from the general?"

Every evening, the answer remained the same. "Not yet, Your Highness."

The palace gardens slowly filled with forgotten flower baskets. He couldn't bring himself to weave flower crowns. He wandered through the paths alone, absentmindedly picking daisies and forgetting to keep them.

Even the palace cooks noticed. "The prince hasn't smiled much."

"He barely touched dessert this afternoon."

The Queen gently rested a hand on her son's shoulder one afternoon. "He'll come home."

Jeonghan nodded but his fingers still twisted nervously around a wilted flower.

—

On the evening of the tenth day, the castle bells rang. "The army has returned!"

Jeonghan didn't wait for anyone else. He gathered his robes and ran straight through the palace, across the courtyard to the gates. The soldiers were exhausted but victorious and cheers erupted from the city. Jeonghan searched desperately through the crowd until he found Seungcheol.

He was sitting (on the horse) straight despite the dirt and dried blood staining his armour. Relief flooded Jeonghan, until he noticed the limp when the general carefully dismounted his horse. His left leg nearly gave way and a soldier rushed to steady him.

Jeonghan's smile vanished. "...You're hurt."

Seungcheol looked up. "It's nothing serious."

Jeonghan marched right over. "It's your leg."

"It was a scratch."

"Call the royal physician, and bring a stretcher." Jeonghan ordered to the servant nearby.

"I've had worse."

"I told you not to get hurt!"

The courtyard fell strangely quiet. Even the soldiers pretending to unload supplies slowed down to listen. Jeonghan folded his arms tightly across his chest. "I said one thing. I asked one thing from you. Don't get hurt. And you never listen to me."

Seungcheol blinked. "I tried."

"Well, all I see is that you failed. I see no trying here."

"I am sorry, my prince."

"You promised that you would come back and that you would come back safe. You were supposed to do both."

"It so happened that I couldn't control the bandits I imagined."

Jeonghan huffed. "Excuses. Alpha's and the excuses they give all the time."

"They had swords."

"So did you. Were you sword resting when theirs were at work?"

"I am sorry, my prince."

The physician finally arrived. "General, please sit before your leg worsens."

Seungcheol obeyed. Jeonghan crouched in front of him, carefully brushing dirt from the edge of his armour. His hands paused just above the bloodstained fabric covering Seungcheol's left thigh.

"...Does it hurt a lot?" His voice was much smaller now.

Seungcheol looked at the worried omega. Golden hair framed his face, slightly windswept from running across the palace grounds.

There were dark circles beneath his eyes. "You haven't been sleeping."

Jeonghan ignored the question. "You got hurt. Let us focus on that matter, General."

"I'm alive. But, you were worried that you skipped the sleep."

"I wasn't. I was furious and I spent ten days worrying only to see that you came back injured."

Without thinking, Seungcheol reached out. His gloved hand rested gently on top of Jeonghan's head, careful not to crush the little flowers tangled in his blonde hair. "I'm sorry."

Jeonghan looked up, eyes glistening. "You'd better be."

"I am. I'll heal. And next time ...I'll try harder not to get hurt."

Jeonghan pointed a finger at him. "You'd better."

The general nodded obediently. "Yes, Your Highness."

A chorus of barely concealed snickers came from the nearby soldiers. Their terrifying general who had stared down at the bandits without flinching was being scolded by the kingdom's prince like a child who had tracked mud through the palace. It was not strange, if anything, it looked exactly as it should.

—

It had been three weeks since General Choi Seungcheol's injury. The cut on his left leg had healed and the limp was gone. The physicians had finally declared him fit for duty. To their surprise, the person most pleased by that announcement...wasn't the General. It was the Prince.

"There," Jeonghan declared proudly as he adjusted the last strap on Seungcheol's armoured shoulder. "You're allowed to carry your own sword again."

Seungcheol looked down. "...I've been carrying it anyway."

Jeonghan smiled brightly. "Before, you did it against everyone. Now you've earned my permission."

Seungcheol simply nodded, accepting the verdict as though it had come from the royal physician instead of a cheerful omega prince. The palace servants often whispered that it was impossible to tell who looked after whom now.

—

When Seungcheol had been injured, Jeonghan had visited every morning with breakfast, every afternoon with books or flowers, and every evening just to make sure he had taken his medicine. Now that Seungcheol had recovered, the roles had quietly reversed.

"Your Highness, please slow down."

"I'm walking."

"You're walking through a muddy path. You'll slip."

"I won't."

"You slipped there last spring."

"...Why do you remember that? It is embarrassing."

"I remember everything that involves you getting hurt."

Jeonghan laughed. 

—

Life in the Kingdom followed a familiar rhythm. Every morning after court, Jeonghan disappeared into the capital with a woven basket over one arm. And, at a respectful distance behind him, there was the General. Everyone in the capital knew the prince, not because of his title but because he remembered them.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kang."

The elderly baker looked up from her stall. "Your Highness!"

"How is your grandson's cough?"

"Oh..." The old woman's eyes softened. "He is doing much better."

"I'm glad."

Jeonghan accepted a warm roll despite her protests about payment. Then he quietly left twice its value beneath the cloth covering her counter as always without making a spectacle of it.

As they walked further down the street. "Haein-ah!" he called.

A little boy ran straight into Jeonghan's arms. "You remembered my name!"

"You've only told me your name ten times."

The child grinned. "My wooden horse broke."

"Oh?" Jeonghan crouched to inspect it seriously. "Hm..."

He looked over his shoulder. "General? The wheel is broken. Will you be able to fix it?"

Seungcheol stepped forward and examined the toy. "I can fix it."

Haein stared up at the enormous alpha in awe. "You can?"

"I've repaired wagon wheels. This is much smaller."

The boy giggled. Sometime later, the horse had a new wheel. Haein hugged both of them before running home. Jeonghan smiled. "Thank you."

"It took two minutes."

"It still made him happy."

Seungcheol looked at the prince and smiled instead knowing who was happier.

—

By midday, Jeonghan had already helped an old woman carry vegetables, played tag with a group of children, delivered blankets to widows.

He spent nearly half an hour listening to a fisherman complain about gulls stealing his catch, remembered the names of every child he passed, birthdays, illnesses, favourite sweets and everyone's stories.

Seungcheol eventually asked, "...Why and how do you remember everyone?"

The prince thought for a moment. "They remembered my name and who I am, first. I know that I am prince, but everyone knows me, so I thought it was only fair to know at least some."

Seungcheol looked away before Jeonghan could see the softness in his expression.

—

That evening, the King stood at the palace balcony beside the Queen. Below them, Jeonghan was once again surrounded by children in the gardens. His golden-blond hair caught the setting sun as he laughed, he was kneeling in the grass while helping them weave flower crowns.

Several promptly crowned him. One particularly brave little girl wandered over to Seungcheol saying, "For you."

She held up the flower crown. The General stared at it and the little girl stared back. Jeonghan looked over. "Oh!"

His eyes sparkled. "General, you should wear it."

Seungcheol accepted it. He placed it but carefully over his head. The children cheered and Jeonghan smiled beautifully.

—

The King chuckled watching from above. "How much longer?"

The Queen smiled knowingly. "For what?"

"They're completely devoted to each other."

She followed his gaze. Jeonghan was brushing grass off Seungcheol's sleeve without thinking. Seungcheol was silently moving between the prince and an approaching carriage so he wouldn't have to step into the road.

The King folded his arms. "How long are they going to remain oblivious?"

The Queen laughed softly. "Let's see."

"Aren't you going to tell them or arrange marriage?"

"No, because they'll find their way, they should."

"And if they don't?"

She smiled. "Then I'll accidentally arrange for them to spend more time together."

The King laughed. "I married a vey dangerous woman."

"You did."

—

That night, long after the palace had fallen asleep, a bedroom window opened quietly. Jeonghan climbed onto the stone ledge with surprising practice. He had a small satchel hung across his shoulder.

As soon as his feet touched the grass, a familiar voice spoke from the shadows. "Your Highness."

Jeonghan froze. "...General."

Seungcheol stepped out from beneath an oak tree, arms folded. "Were you planning to tell anyone this time?"

"I left a note on my pillow, the palace maids know to check."

Seungcheol sighed. Jeonghan smiled sheepishly. "I just wanted to watch the stars from the hill, you know it is quiet up there."

Then Seungcheol said. "I'm coming with you, Your Highness."

Jeonghan's smile widened. They left through the palace orchards instead of the main gates. The guards merely nodded as everyone knew.

The hill overlooking Seranthia was blanketed with wildflowers. Jeonghan immediately lay down in the grass. His blond hair spread around him like pale silk. Above them, thousands of stars shimmered across the summer sky.

"They're beautiful," Jeonghan whispered.

Seungcheol remained standing for another minute, watching and surveying the surroundings out of habit. When he was satisfied he finally laid beside the prince. They didn't speak for a while. Then, Jeonghan pointed upward. "That one."

"The bright one?"

"Mhm. Yes."

"I don't know much about constellations."

"I don't either."

Seungcheol looked at him. "Then what are you pointing at?"

Jeonghan grinned. "I just think they are pretty."

A quiet laugh escaped Seungcheol before he could stop it. Jeonghan immediately turned onto one elbow. "You laughed."

"I did not."

"You did. I heard you."

Jeonghan smiled with quiet triumph before settling back into the grass. After a while, he spoke again, his voice barely louder than the breeze. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For always coming."

Seungcheol looked up at the stars, then at the prince beside him. "You shouldn't be out here alone."

Above them, the stars wheeled silently across the night sky.

—

Hidden behind the curtains of the royal bedchamber, the King happened to glance toward the distant hill through the open window, there were two tiny shadows sat beneath the stars. The King shook his head with a fond sigh. "They're hopeless."

The Queen, who had noticed the same distant silhouettes, smiled into her cup of tea.

—

Time had a strange habit of passing unnoticed in Seranthia. The prince who had once run barefoot through the palace gardens was now twenty-eight and the General had turned thirty. The kingdom had begun whispering the same question.

When will they marry?

It began with Jeonghan. The first proposal arrived from the Kingdom of Elaris. The second was from Viremont. The third from the southern islands. Within a month, there were dozens and each one accompanied by expensive gifts. There were jewels, silks, rare books and paintings.

One particularly ambitious duke had even sent an albino peacock. The palace servants adored watching what happened next.

"General?" A maid hurried into Seungcheol's office carrying another velvet box.

"Another proposal for His Highness."

Seungcheol looked up from his reports. "... Now who is that from?"

"The Crown Prince of Viremont."

"Please reject it immediately."

"But they did send a thirty-page account of the prince's accomplishments."

"I've already decided, please do what I said."

"But General, you didn't read it."

"I don't need to."

The scribe quietly wrote:

Rejected by General.

The ministers noticed. Every proposal, without exception passed through the General's hands first. And every proposal, without any exception returned with precisely the same comment.

Not suitable.

Eventually, the Chancellor couldn't help asking. "General. If I may ask you something."

"Yes?"

"You've rejected twenty-seven proposals which came for the prince."

"Twenty-eight, there was one from yesterday."

The Chancellor cleared his throat. "May I ask your reasoning?"

Seungcheol didn't even hesitate. "The first prince has no military experience, the second insulted palace staff three years ago. The duke has poor judgement. And the marquis hunts for sport."

"What about the viscount, your highness?"

"He looked bored while children were performing and he interrupted His Highness twice during dinner."

The Chancellor stared as he had no answer.

—

Meanwhile, Jeonghan had absolutely no idea. He simply noticed that no one ever spoke to him about marriage. He assumed the kingdom had forgotten. But he was wrong.

The King was watching everything with poorly concealed amusement. "He's rejecting them all."

The Queen smiled over her embroidery. "He doesn't even realise why."

"What about Jeonghan?"

She laughed. "Oh... Try sending the proposals to him, he'll surprise you."

So, King did what the queen asked for.

—

Three days later, the first proposal reached Jeonghan directly.

The prince was sitting beneath his favourite cherry tree making flower crowns with several children when a royal messenger arrived carrying an ornate silver case. "Your Highness."

"Yes?"

"There is a marriage proposal."

Jeonghan blinked. "...For me?"

He accepted it and opened it but only exactly three lines and closed it. "No. Reject it, please"

The messenger hesitated. "...May I ask why?"

Jeonghan thought seriously. "He plays harp music, but I don't like them. He deserves someone who like it."

The second proposal as well was the same, when asked about the reason, Jeonghan said:  "He doesn't like dogs."

For the third one messenger said, "He has an excellent reputation."

"But, he looks like he'd tell me not to climb trees. But I like climbing trees."

For the fourth one, he said. "He enjoys formal banquets. But, eat pastries before dinner."

The fifth reason was absurd. "He has a long nose."

The maid nearly dropped his pen. "Your Highness, you cannot reject foreign royalty because of...their nose."

"I can and I just did. "

Within weeks, Jeonghan had become infamous among the palace staff. The Queen laughed so hard when she heard about the reasons of rejection.

—

Then, one afternoon Jeonghan wandered into the administrative offices carrying a basket of peaches. "What are these?"

The room immediately fell silent. On one desk, some letters were stacked neatly. It was elegant and tied with coloured ribbons.

The maid swallowed. "...Your highness, they are marriage proposals."

Jeonghan tilted his head. "For who?"

"The General, Your Highness."

Jeonghan slowly walked over and picked one up and read the first paragraph. His brows furrowed. "She's twenty. But he's thirty. Reject it."

The maid has no words to say "..."

He picked up another. "Ah, the daughter of the Duke. Her handwriting look ugly, though. Reject this one as well."

His expression grew increasingly suspicious by every time he read another one. Finally, he looked at the maid. "Why are there so many?"

"General Choi is...considered an excellent match."

Jeonghan frowned. "...No, they're not suitable."

At almost that exact moment, Seungcheol entered. He stopped and looked at Jeonghan and the mountain of proposals. "...What are you doing?"

Jeonghan held up a scroll. "General, come look at this one. She doesn't like horses."

"...How do you know?"

"It says she prefers carriages. But, you like horses. And so, this is not suitable."

He reached for another. "This one doesn't know how to bake."

Seungcheol stared. "Is that important?"

"Yes, of course it is if she's marrying you and you like honey cakes."

"Look, another one, he enjoys hunting rare birds. This one, spends too much money."

The maid had stopped writing by after a couple.

Jeonghan continued. "This lady says she enjoys embroidery. But do you enjoy embroidery?"

"...No."

"There you are."

—

By the time the King and Queen wandered into the office, every proposal lay in a neat pile marked Rejected.

The King folded his arms. "Jeonghan."

His son looked up innocently. "Yes, Father?"

"How many have you rejected?"

The maid answered instead. "Thirty-four."

The Queen pressed her lips together to stop herself laughing. "And why is no one suitable for the General?"

Jeonghan looked genuinely thoughtful. After a long pause, he answered with complete sincerity.

"None of them know him. They don't know he pretends he doesn't like sweets but always eats the honey cakes and biscuits. They don't know he can't sleep unless someone reminds him to stop reading reports. They don't know he always gives the first apple of autumn to the palace horses."

Seungcheol's ears had turned faintly pink.

"They don't know he acts scary, but he secretly fixes broken toys for children. How could they possibly marry him if they don't know those things?"

No one spoke, not even the King because the prince had said it with such innocent certainty that he hadn't realised what he was truly admitting.

The Queen looked sideways at her husband. The King pinched the bridge of his nose.

Without moving his lips, he murmured, "...They're thirty."

The Queen nodded serenely. "They're still like this."

She smiled at the two men standing only a few feet apart one still holding a rejected proposal, the other looking at the prince with quiet, unwavering fondness.

Across the room, Jeonghan turned back to the maid with a serious expression. "One more thing."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"From now on, don't bring any more marriage proposals to the General."

The maid glanced nervously at Seungcheol. "...May I ask why?"

Jeonghan answered without a moment's hesitation. "They're just a waste of paper. And more so, nothing is suitable for him."

—

The Royal Council Chamber was unusually crowded. The matter before the council was one everyone had been avoiding for years.

The Marriage.

The King rested his chin against one hand. "Very well, we've delayed this discussion long enough."

A collective murmur spread around the table. The Chancellor opened the first ledger. "Your Majesty, the number of foreign proposals for His Highness has increased again. And General Choi continues to reject them."

Across the table, Seungcheol remained perfectly expressionless. "They are unsuitable, Your Majesty."

The Prime Ministers looked deeply disappointed in his son.

"So you have said," the Chancellor replied dryly.

"And His Highness, has also rejected every proposal brought to the general." Another minister added with a sigh.

The King looked towards his son. Jeonghan offered an innocent smile. "They weren't suitable either."

Several ministers pinched the bridge of their noses. An hour passed with every proposal was discussed but none reached a conclusion.

Finally, Old Lord Minseok, the oldest minister in the room, cleared his throat. "If I may... we seem to have the same problem in both cases."

The King nodded. "Go on."

"The prince rejects everyone and the General rejects everyone. So... why don't we simply let them marry each other?"

The Queen slowly looked away to hide the smile tugging at her lips. The King leaned back in his chair. It was, politically speaking, a perfectly reasonable suggestion, which is what he always wanted. The kingdom already adored Seungcheol. He had no ambition for the throne who was utterly loyal to the Crown. He and Jeonghan trusted one another completely.

There would be no foreign disputes over succession. From a practical standpoint, it made remarkable sense. Jeonghan looked up. His eyes drifted almost instinctively towards Seungcheol. For the briefest moment, something warm flickered in them. He waited.

Seungcheol didn't. "No."

The room froze. He hadn't asked for clarification or considered the political advantages or even looked at Jeonghan.

"I refuse."

The minister looked taken aback. "...General, I merely wished to propose"

His voice remained calm. "Thank you, but no. It would be inappropriate."

The King's gaze sharpened. "Inappropriate?"

"I am his sworn protector. My duty is to stand beside the Crown. I serve His Highness. I do not deserve to become his husband."

Across the table, Jeonghan hadn't moved. His hands rested neatly in his lap and expression remained gentle. Only the slightest tightening around his eyes betrayed that anything had changed.

He had just heard the speed of the answer, not the explanation and how quickly it came. The discussion continued. The Queen watched her son carefully. She knew that smile. It was the one he wore whenever he was trying very hard not to let anyone worry.

After another few minutes, Jeonghan rose quietly. Every chair creaked as heads turned. "Father."

The King's voice softened. "Yes?"

"If you'll excuse me... I remembered I promised the children in the eastern gardens that I'd help them finish their kites."

No one questioned the excuse. Jeonghan always kept his promises.

"Of course," the King said gently.

"Thank you."

He bowed to everyone and turned towards the doors. The heavy wooden doors closed behind him with barely a sound.

—

Outside

The palace corridors were quiet and Jeonghan walked without destination. His footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone. He told himself he wasn't upset. Seungcheol had every right to refuse.

The suggestion had been unexpected, embarrassing, perhaps.

It made sense that he'd answer quickly.

So why... why had that single word landed so heavily?

—

In the council chamber, no one had resumed speaking. The King looked from the closed doors to Seungcheol. "General."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"General, have you notice that my son has left?"

Seungcheol frowned very slightly. "I did. I assumed he merely wished to keep his promise to the children."

A few ministers exchanged helpless looks. The Prime Minister was ready to kill his son. The Queen closed her eyes for a brief moment. The King let out a slow sigh.

Seungcheol looked genuinely puzzled. "Was there another reason?"

The Queen rose gracefully from her chair. "I think that this meeting has accomplished enough for one afternoon."

As the councillors began to disperse, she paused beside Seungcheol. "General."

"Your Majesty?"

She studied him for a long moment. "You rejected my son very quickly."

He inclined his head. "I am supposed to protect him, Your Majesty."

She smiled sadly and walked away, leaving Seungcheol standing in the centre of the council chamber, still believing he had simply protected the proper order of the kingdom.

He was completely unaware that, in trying to preserve the distance between prince and general, he had wounded the one person whose happiness mattered most to him.

—

The palace kitchens were never truly asleep. But, Chef Nanny always knew when something was wrong. She had helped the Prince since he had been small enough to stand on a stool to reach her worktable. She knew the difference between his happy footsteps and his quiet ones.

Tonight, they were quiet. She found him exactly where she expected. He was standing barefoot in the kitchen. His golden-blond hair was loosely braided in the front, sleeves rolled to his elbows, flour was already covering the front of his robe.

Without a word, he had pulled a large mixing bowl towards himself. Nanny didn't announce herself. She simply leaned against the doorway and watched.

Jeonghan measured rice flour into the bowl, added warm water and a little salt.

"You're making kkwabaegi."

Jeonghan looked up. "Oh.... Nanny. I thought you'd gone to bed."

"So did I, until I heard a certain prince has overtaken my kitchen"

She walked over, tied another apron around her waist, and began searching the shelves. She placed a jar of sugar beside him, a bottle of honey and a small bowl of cinnamon. She placed the wooden spoon he liked best and the heavy pot they always used for frying.

Jeonghan smiled a little more genuinely. "...Thank you."

Nanny only nodded. "Your dough is too dry."

She poured in another splash of warm water.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were soft. She never asked what had happened. She didn't need to. Ever since he was little, whenever Jeonghan was sad, he cooked. It was not elaborate royal feasts but simple comfort foods which are sweet and fried.

"You've done this since you were six," she murmured.

Jeonghan laughed quietly.

"You cried because your father cancelled your picnic. So you made pancakes and burnt them. Then cried harder. But you insisted on feeding everyone the burnt pancakes anyway."

The sweet scent filled the kitchen when it was fried.. Jeonghan waited patiently before lifting them onto a tray. Nanny immediately handed him the sugar. He rolled each warm kkwabaegi until every twist glittered with sugar and a hint of cinnamon.

He picked up the first one, which was still warm and took a bite.  He closed his eyes for just a second.

"...Do you feel better now?" Chef Nanny asked.

He nodded. He picked up another, then another, one more and by the fourth one, there were quiet footsteps at the kitchen door. Three small faces peeked around the frame, the children of palace servants.

A minute later, the children gathered around the table with tiny clean hands were rolling warm doughnuts through bowls of sugar. The results were nearly catastrophic. 

Jeonghan took another doughnut from the tray. Instead of eating it, he held it out to the Nanny. "For you."

Soon, the tray that had held twenty warm kkwabaegi was almost empty. Jeonghan had eaten several himself, one whenever the ache in his chest threatened to return, then one again.

He gave the rest to the kids. Nanny watched him laugh as Hyun (one of the kids) accidentally got sugar all over his nose.

Instead of wiping it away, Jeonghan gently tapped the child's nose. "You look like a snow rabbit."

For a little while, the sadness eased. When the children were called back to their parents, each left carrying a paper parcel with two doughnuts tucked safely inside.

"Goodnight, Your Highness! Thank You"

"Goodnight."

—

The kitchen grew quiet again. Nanny began washing the bowls. Jeonghan silently dried them. After a long while, she spoke without looking at him. "I heard what happened, he hurt you."

It wasn't a question. Jeonghan's hands paused on the towel. "...He didn't mean to. He would never."

Then she reached over and brushed a little flour from his blond hair, just as she had when he was a child. "My sweet prince some wounds aren't made by cruel words. They're made by honest ones."

His voice was barely above a whisper. "I think ...I thought there might be a place beside him for me."

The words hung in the warm kitchen air. Nanny set down the bowl she was drying and rested a flour-dusted hand over his.

"You have spent years making sure he eats, rests, laughs, and comes home alive. And today you learned that nothing can be assumed simply because it has been quietly given."

A tear escaped before he could stop it. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand and laughed at himself. "I've made far too many doughnuts."

Nanny smiled gently and nudged the last warm one towards him. "No, you've made exactly as many as your heart needed tonight."

Jeonghan took another slow bite. The honey and sugar were warm and sweet enough to make the ache in his chest a little easier to carry.

—

The next morning after the council meeting. There was nothing different. But everything was. The Prince woke at dawn as he always did. He greeted every servant by name, smiled at every guard and stopped to compliment the gardeners on the summer roses.

If anyone asked whether he was well, he answered exactly as he always had. "I'm wonderful."

No one doubted him, except the Queen.

Jeonghan attended every lesson scheduled for the day. Normally, he would find little excuses to slip away halfway through.

"General promised to teach me sword forms."

"The children are waiting in the gardens."

"I need to see the kitchens."

Today, he answered every question the tutors asked. When the lessons ended, he simply bowed politely. The tutors were delighted but the Queen was concerned.

—

That afternoon, the Queen sat embroidering by the palace windows. Jeonghan sat beside her helping separate coloured threads.

After a while, the Queen smiled. "You've never voluntarily sat through an entire embroidery session."

"I haven't? I suppose I should learn this if I am to be married."

The Queen looked at him carefully. His smile was still there but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

—

Later, the King requested tea in the western drawing room. Normally, Jeonghan would have disappeared into the city by then. Instead, he wandered in carrying a basket of freshly picked flowers. "Father."

"My son."

Without another word, Jeonghan settled onto the carpet beside the King's chair. The King had long since accepted that his son preferred the floor. He began weaving flower crowns, then tiny flower bracelets. His fingers moved automatically.

The King watched over the rim of his teacup. "Who are you making the flower crowns for?"

Jeonghan blinked trying to buy out time and looked down at the unfinished wreath in his lap. "I don't know."

He finished it anyway, a little later when he saw the the three children belonging to palace servants ran past the doorway, Jeonghan immediately called them over He gently placed flower crowns on each little head and bracelets.

The youngest immediately hugged him around the neck. "Thank you, Prince!"

Jeonghan laughed softly. "They suit you much better than me."

The children raced away, proudly showing everyone their new treasures and the King watched them go. Then looked at the half-empty basket beside his son. "You didn't keep one."

Jeonghan smiled knowingly

—

Across the palace, the General frowned. It had been two days. There were always flowers which appeared beside his breakfast or cheerful knock interrupted his paperwork, no one wandered into the training grounds asking impossible questions.

He passed the kitchens and the Nanny looked up. "The prince was here earlier. But he left an hour ago."

"...Thank you."

He continued walking without quite knowing why. Even the soldiers had noticed. "General. When was the last time His Highness put flowers on your helmet?"

Seungcheol stopped walking as he couldn't remember. That afternoon, he finally spotted Jeonghan beneath the old willow tree and half a dozen children surrounded him. Jeonghan was laughing as he showed them how to weave tiny daisy bracelets.

Seungcheol smiled faintly and he started walking towards them. Before he had taken more than a few steps, Jeonghan looked up.

Their eyes met for just a second. Then Jeonghan smiled politely, the same smile he gave everyone. He inclined his head. "General."

"Your Highness."

"I hope your training is going well."

"It is."

"I'm glad."

Then he turned straight back to the children. "As I was saying... don't pull the stems too hard or they'll snap."

That was all. He didn't tease, linger or asked if he'd eaten lunch. Seungcheol stood there for a moment longer than necessary before quietly walking away.

—

The King and Queen watched all of it from the balcony. The King took a slow sip of tea. "He's finally noticed."

The Queen smiled into her own cup saying nothing while the King continued. "He commands armies, he can predict enemy movements three days in advance, but not his own feelings."

The Queen laughed. "I agree with you, Your Majesty."

The following council meeting was remarkably ordinary. It was about trade, harvest reports and repairs to the eastern roads. Seungcheol had been sent to inspect the northern barracks and was absent. The formal business concluded early.

The Chancellor closed his ledger. "If there is nothing further, we should-"

"Oh," the King interrupted casually. "There is one more matter."

Every minister straightened and the King reached into his sleeve and placed a small leather coin pouch onto the council table. It landed with a soft clink.

The Prime Minister blinked. "...Your Majesty?"

The King looked entirely serious. "I should like to place a wager."

The room fell silent. The Queen, who had been pretending to read correspondence, didn't even look up.

"How much?" she asked.

"Five sovereigns."

The Prime Minister stared. "...On what?"

The King folded his hands with all the dignity of a monarch discussing matters of state. "Which one of those two idiots confesses first."

One minister coughed into his sleeve to hide a laugh. The Queen calmly reached into the pocket of her gown and placed an identical pouch beside his.

"I'll match your five."

The King grinned. "So, money is on Jeonghan."

The Queen finally looked up. "I'll take Seungcheol."

The King laughed. "You are going against me?"

"Jeonghan loves first but he retreats when wounded. But the General, he will realise eventually. And once he does... he'll march into it as though it were a battlefield. I give it three days."

The Prime Minister placed his pouch next to the King's. "I would go with Jeonghan as I know my son is stubborn."

One of the younger ministers, unable to resist, timidly raised a hand. "...May... may members of the council also participate?"

The King looked delighted. Within moments, the solemn council table had transformed into something entirely undignified. "I have two sovereigns on the General."

"One sovereign on the prince."

The Chancellor sighed dramatically as he opened a fresh page in his official ledger.

"What... are you writing?" asked another minister.

Without changing expression, the Chancellor dipped his quill in ink.

"Unofficial Royal Wager Regarding the Complete Emotional Incompetence of His Highness Prince Yoon Jeonghan and General Choi Seungcheol."

The King nodded in approval and the Queen smiled to herself.

Just outside the council chamber, a palace maid carrying fresh tea paused for a moment, smiling to herself because if the King and Queen had begun placing bets, then everyone in Seranthia knew something was about to change.

—

On the third day, the Nanny didn't bother asking why. She simply looked up from kneading bread as the kitchen door creaked open. There he was already reaching for the sack of glutinous rice flour. Without another word, she handed him the mixing bowl before he even asked. For a while, they worked in silence.

It wasn't until Jeonghan had twisted the fourth dough rope that Nanny finally spoke. "You know... This is the third day you've come here, you are making sweets and pretending nothing happened."

Chef Nanny lowered the heat beneath the oil. "My prince."

"I think I finally understood why everyone kept asking me about marriage. I thought, I thought I was simply happy around him. I liked putting flowers on his helmet, bringing him snacks, walking beside him. I liked waiting for him to come home. I wanted to know he was safe."

"And then, when Lord Minseok suggested we marry, I looked at him. I wanted to hear what he would say. He said no. I didn't even know I wanted him to say yes until he didn't. I love him. I just... I don't know what to do with that 'no'."

Nanny rested he hands on his shoulder.. "You don't have to do anything."

"But I can't stay the same. I tried and I kept wanting to go find him."

His eyes watered despite himself.

—

Across the palace, Seungcheol had discovered something equally unsettling. Three days without Jeonghan by his side and the palace felt wrong. His mornings were quiet as no prince was waiting outside the training grounds with fresh flowers.

There was no soft voice asking, "Have you eaten?"

Or the familiar scent and the fingers reaching up to tuck a daisy into the side of his helmet. He remembered one night in particular where Jeonghan had escaped another formal dinner. He'd changed into one of his favourite soft cream robes, sleeves far too long, blond hair falling freely over his shoulders.

He'd wandered into Seungcheol's study carrying armful of wildflowers. "You look busy."

"I am busy. I have to review this before tomorrow morning"

"I'll be quiet."

"You've never once been quiet."

He'd lasted exactly four minutes. Then he'd begun weaving flower crowns, when he finished one, without asking, he'd stood on tiptoe and gently placed it on Seungcheol's head.

"There."

Seungcheol hadn't even looked up from his reports. "Am I allowed to remove it?"

"No, it suits you."

He'd left it there for two hours completely in contrast to the dark robes he wear before he went to bed. It was the only colourful thing.

But now everything felt strangely empty.

—

Another memory came running to him. There was rain and the training had been cancelled. Jeonghan had insisted on teaching the younger pages how to make paper boats, but one wouldn't float.

The little boy had started crying and before Seungcheol could even cross the courtyard, Jeonghan had already knelt beside him. "It's alright, we'll make another."

"And if that one sinks?"

Jeonghan smiled. "We'll make ten."

The child had stopped crying almost immediately. And Jeonghan paddled water towards him playfully, dragging him to play in the rain.

Why...

Why did those moments keep returning?

—

Captain Kim Mingyu found the General exactly where everyone expected, standing in the training yard doing absolutely nothing. "General."

"Hm?"

"You've been staring at your helmet for ten minutes. Also, where's the flower?"

"I haven't had one for three days."

Mingyu stared and then slowly looked at the helmet and back at Seungcheol. "General, when was the last time the prince visited your office?"

"It has been three days."

"When did he stop bringing you tea? When did you last eat lunch on time? When did you start wandering around the palace looking confused? When was the last time you smiled?"

Seungcheol frowned. "I smile."

"You do, when the prince is around."

Mingyu folded his arms. "General, I'm going to ask you something."

"...Go on."

"When Lord Minseok suggested you marry His Highness, why did you answer so quickly?"

"I am his protector."

Seungcheol looked away. Mingyu took one step closer. "That wasn't my question. If the prince married someone else..."

Seungcheol answered immediately. "I wouldn't trust anyone."

"Why?"

"They wouldn't understand him. They wouldn't know he skips breakfast when he's worried. No one notice when he smiles just to stop other people worrying. They wouldn't remember to carry sweets during long meetings. They couldn't stop him climbing walls. They wouldn't know he can't sleep during thunderstorms."

Mingyu smiled. "And who does know all that?"

The answer came before Seungcheol could stop it. "I do."

Captain Mingyu's grin became almost unbearable. "General, I need you to listen. I regret to inform you ...you're in love with the prince. And this is the right time to confess before someone is brave enough to claim before you."

The words landed harder than any sword blow. Seungcheol stared at him. "No."

Mingyu raised an eyebrow. He remembered Jeonghan laughing beneath the willow tree, placing flowers on his helmet, waiting at the city gates every time he returned from a campaign or a fight.

Jeonghan making honey pastries because he'd once mentioned they weren't too sweet and his look at him in the council chamber, just before he'd said no.

Seungcheol closed his eyes. "...Oh."

—

Next morning, during the council meeting, the King had a very particular agenda (merely to tease Seungcheol and Jeonghan). "We will revisit the matter of Prince Jeonghan's marriage."

Seungcheol's head lifted immediately. "Your Majesty-"

The Chancellor held up a hand. "General. If I may stop you this time."

The King spoke gently but firmly. "Let the prince answer."

For the first time since the last meeting, Seungcheol looked directly at Jeonghan. The prince met his gaze only briefly before looking back to the King.

His voice was calm. "If it is the wish of the Crown... then I will meet the prospective candidates. I only ask for some time to consider it properly."

The King nodded slowly. "You shall have it."

Beside him, the Queen remained perfectly composed only her fingers tightened around her teacup.

Across the table, Seungcheol felt as though all the air had left the room. He had spent three days wondering why the palace felt empty.

It was because of the past three days of missing flowers, crowns, shared walks, and quiet conversations. And now, the thought of Jeonghan smiling at someone else and making flower crowns for them didn't sat well with him.

For the first time in his life, General understood exactly what it meant to be afraid.

—

That night Jeonghan escaped to the hill overlooking Seranthia as it had always been Jeonghan's refuge. It was quiet. The summer grass swayed gently in the evening breeze, dotted with wildflowers that had long since closed their petals for the night.

Above him, thousands of stars stretched across the sky, bright enough to paint silver across the kingdom below. Jeonghan sat with his knees drawn to his chest. He always came here when his heart became too loud.

Tonight, it was louder than the wind. He had thought agreeing to meet prospective suitors would make things easier. If Seungcheol had said no so quickly, then Jeonghan had no right to cling to feelings that belonged only to himself.

He would do what was expected of the Crown Prince. He would smile, meet them and perhaps, one day, his heart would learn to follow.

A tear escaped before he noticed, then another. He wiped them away immediately. "Ridiculous, you've cried enough. I really am hopeless."

A footstep sounded behind him. Jeonghan didn't turn around as he knew those footsteps better than anyone.  Jeonghan rubbed quickly at his eyes before finally glancing sideways. "General, you found me."

"Your Highness."

"I'm not crying. Please don't look at me."

"I didn't say you were."

Jeonghan stood. "I should return."

He managed two steps and warm hand closed gently but firmly, around his wrist and he stopped. Before he could react, Seungcheol gave the slightest tug that Jeonghan lost his balance for half a heartbeat.

He turned instinctively and found himself against Seungcheol's chest. Seungcheol's arm had come around his back to steady him and the other still held his wrist as though letting go wasn't even a consideration.

Jeonghan froze as his voice came out quieter than intended. "So, what are you doing?"

Seungcheol looked down at him. "I am stopping you from leaving."

Jeonghan blinked several times. "General, this is inappropriate."

Seungcheol frowned. "What is?"

Jeonghan gestured vaguely between them without trying very hard to move away. "You are holding me when you shouldn't be."

"Why?"

Jeonghan stared at him in disbelief. "You truly don't know? I- I'm going to be meeting other alphas. So... you shouldn't hold me like this."

For the first time that evening, something changed in Seungcheol's expression. His brows drew together. "Who asked you to do that?"

Jeonghan looked back at him. "What?"

"Who asked you to meet other alphas?"

Seungcheol's jaw tightened. "Did you agree just because the council, the ministers and your father asked?"

The prince closed his eyes briefly. "Please don't."

"Answer me, please, Your Highness."

"I don't know what answer you're looking for."

"The truthful one, an honest one perhpas."

"No. I don't want to." He admitted it so quietly it was almost lost to the wind.

"Why?"

"Because- because the person I wanted- the person I wanted, said no."

Jeonghan's eyes widened as he hadn't meant to say that aloud. There was no point in hiding now so he continued.

"You answered so quickly that day. I hadn't even realised until that moment. If you needed even a second to think, I could have lived on that second for years. But you didn't. You answered before Lord Minseok had even finished speaking."

Seungcheol spoke. "I wasn't rejecting you. I thought, I thought they were asking me to forget my place, my duty. I have protected you since you were sixteen. You are the Crown Prince. I am your General. I thought the answer had to be no."

Jeonghan searched his face.

"And what if it hadn't been the council asking? What if it had just been me asking?"

The General looked at him for a long moment, then he did something Mingyu would later insist had taken entirely too long.

He let go of Jeonghan's wrist only so he could take both of the prince's hands instead. His thumb brushed lightly across Jeonghan's knuckles.

"I have fought war, negotiated treaties, stood before enemy kings without fear. But asking myself that question terrified me. I realised it late that I wasn't protecting the distance between us. I was hiding behind it."

The breeze stirred Jeonghan's blond hair across his face.

Seungcheol gently tucked the loose strands behind his ear, the gesture so familiar that it made both of them pause.

"I have missed you. I miss you every morning when there isn't a flower on my helmet. I miss you every time I finish a report and look up expecting to find you sitting on my windowsill. I miss hearing you ask impossible questions. I miss your flower crowns. I miss you."

Jeonghan's eyes shimmered again. "But you told them no and it hurt."

The apology was immediate without excuse. "I am sorry, my prince. I cannot take those words back. I can only tell you they were spoken by a fool who thought loving you meant staying away from you. I have now come to realise that I love you very dearly, my prince. And I wish not to be apart from you for a single day from now on."

Jeonghan laughed through the tears that escaped despite his best efforts. "You really are a fool."

He smiled faintly. "So I've been told."

Jeonghan looked at him for a long moment, searching for any trace of doubt only the same unwavering steadiness that had carried Seungcheol through every battle Seranthia had ever fought.

"So," Jeonghan asked softly, "what happens now?"

Seungcheol drew a slow breath. "Tomorrow, I intend to ask your father for permission to marry you properly. And I will apologise making your worry"

Jeonghan blinked and a tiny smile appeared. "And if the ministers have already arranged meetings with other alphas?"

Seungcheol's answering smile was small, but unmistakable.

"Then," he said, "they'll have to fight me to their way back home"

Jeonghan laughed bright enough to chase away the last of the tears.

—

The walk back to the palace began in comfortable silence. Jeonghan walked beside Seungcheol, occasionally kicking at small pebbles on the path. His heart felt strangely light, as though someone had untied a knot that had been sitting in his chest for days.

After several minutes, Seungcheol glanced sideways. "You're limping."

Jeonghan looked down at his feet. "My legs are tired."

Seungcheol stopped walking and he crouched, his back facing Jeonghan.

The prince blinked. "...General? What are you doing?"

"Getting you home. You can walk, I know that, but you are limping. So, get on."

Seungcheol looked over one shoulder with the same calm expression he wore before charging into battle. "I'm carrying you."

Jeonghan couldn't help smiling. "You're serious about spoiling me."

"I believe that started years ago. Now, get on quick, my prince."

Jeonghan obeyed because he wanted to. He slipped his arms carefully around Seungcheol's shoulders as the General stood with effortless ease, settling the prince securely onto his back.

"You've become lighter."

"I have not. I've been eating Nanny's pastries for three days. I definitely haven't become lighter."

The ride home felt...familiar. Years ago, after one festival, Jeonghan had fallen asleep watching fireworks. Seungcheol had carried him back then, too. Except then, Jeonghan had been too sleepy to remember. Now, he remembered every step. He rested his chin lightly on Seungcheol's shoulder.

"So, you figured it out that you loved me."

"I did."

"It took you long enough. I was beginning to think I would have to write you a report."

"What would it say?"

Jeonghan pretended to think. "General Choi Seungcheol, Situation: hopelessly in love with the Prince. Recommendation: immediate confession.'"

Seungcheol actually laughed. Jeonghan smiled into his shoulder.

—

By the time they reached the palace, most of the servants should have finished their duties or at least that was what both of them believed.

In reality, half the palace seemed mysteriously occupied near the entrance hall. A maid dusting the same vase for nearly ten minutes, two footmen discussing a suit of armour that had required no discussion whatsoever.

The head gardener inexplicably carrying flowers indoors at night. Everyone looked remarkably busy. The great doors opened and everyone hid behind the pillars.

Seungcheol stepped inside with Jeonghan still comfortably perched on his back. One servant quietly elbowed another. "Look."

Jeonghan noticed exactly none of it. He was perfectly content and his cheeks rested against Seungcheol's shoulder. He looked happier than anyone had seen him in days.

A palace maid whispered, "His Highness is smiling again."

Another maid smiled back. "It's about time."

Seungcheol carried him all the way through the corridors to the prince's chambers and stopped only when they reached the carved oak doors did he kneel slightly. "You've arrived."

Jeonghan slid down carefully until both feet touched the floor. For a brief moment, hey simply looked at one another. The corridor was quiet or so they thought. But hidden just around the corner, were several maids had suddenly and a pair of young pages stood completely still behind a pillar.

Jeonghan smiled a soft, affectionate smile that Seungcheol knew was meant only for him. "Thank you for carrying me back"

"You don't need to thank me."

"I do."

Before Seungcheol could answer, Jeonghan stepped forward and rose onto his toes, placing one gentle kiss on Seungcheol's left cheek. Then as if deciding one wasn't sufficient, he placed another on the right completely unhurried.

"I've wanted to do that," Jeonghan admitted with a grin.

"Goodnight, my General."

For the first time in years, the General of Seranthia completely forgot how words worked.

His face turned pink and then red. Then an impressive shade that Mingyu would later describe as battle-ready crimson.

Jeonghan tilted his head. "Oh, you're blushing."

Seungcheol touched one cheek as though hoping the colour might disappear by itself. "It appears that I am."

Jeonghan's smile widened into delighted laughter. "It suits you."

Behind the pillar, one of the younger pages whispered far too loudly, "The General's ears are red!"

A maid immediately shushed him. "Quiet!"

"But they are!"

"They're adorable."  another maid whispered with great seriousness.

—

At the far end of the corridor, the Queen happened to emerge from the royal library just in time to catch sight of a thoroughly flustered General and her son trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

She looked at the King, who had joined her a moment later. Without saying a word, she held out her hand. The King stared at it. "...already?"

"I wagered that Seungcheol would confess first."

"You did."

"But our son kissed him first."

"That doesn't count. General climbed that mountain took him down and brought him on his back."

The King sighed with the theatrical resignation of a man who knew he had lost fairly. "We will discuss this further in tomorrow's court."

The Queen laughed softly. "Oh, dear."

Down the corridor, blissfully unaware that half the palace had witnessed the exchange, Jeonghan disappeared into his chambers with an unmistakable spring in his step. Seungcheol remained standing outside the door for another full minute, absently touching the spot on each cheek where Jeonghan had kissed him.

—

Captain Mingyu, who was passing by for patrols at night, stopped, took one look at the General's expression, and grinned. "So..."

Seungcheol looked at him. "...Not a word."

Mingyu raised both hands innocently.

"I wasn't going to say anything. But Your Highness did leave matching evidence on both cheeks."

Seungcheol instinctively rubbed his face. The corridor erupted in a contained laughter.

—

There were, according to palace tradition, three things that never remained secret, the royal kitchens' recipes, the Queen's rose garden and anything witnessed by more than two palace maids.

By breakfast, the entire palace knew, palace guards knew, the merchants in the capital knew about it and somehow a shepherd nearly forty miles from the capital was telling his wife, "I heard the prince kissed the General."

His wife looked up from spinning wool. "I heard the General confessed first and he carried the prince home."

—

Inside the palace kitchen, it was absolute chaos. "Did you hear?"

"I saw it."

"You saw it?"

"Yes, the prince kissed both cheeks and the General turned the colour of ripe tomatoes. I've never seen General Choi blink so much."

The Nanny walked through the kitchen carrying fresh bread. "You all gossip too much."

The cooks immediately fell silent. She continued walking, then added without turning around, "But he was very red when I saw him hours later."

The kitchen exploded into laughter.

—

Before the council meeting, even foreign ambassadors were asking discreet questions.

The King entered the council chamber trying very hard to look dignified. He failed the moment he caught sight of the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister avoided eye contact. The Queen sat serenely beside the throne, looking entirely innocent, she was not.

The meeting began on trade, harvest, road repairs and everything proceeded normally until the Chancellor cleared his throat. "Your Majesty."

"Yes?"

"There remains one outstanding matter."

The King looked knowingly towards the Queen. "Oh?"

"The marriage prospects of His Highness."

The Queen lowered her teacup.

Here we go. I am ready for the drama.

A scribe opened a prospectus letter. "Candidate number one-"

"STOP."

The single word echoed across the chamber and everyone turned. General had stood up. His voice remained perfectly respectful and calm and entirely impossible to interrupt.

"The prince's marriage proposals need not be discussed any further. They are no longer necessary."

The Chancellor blinked. "...General?"

The Prime minister asked cautiously hiding his smile, " Seungcheol, may we inquire why?"

Seungcheol answered without hesitation. "His Highness has already found his groom."

The Prime Minister slowly removed his spectacles as if he could stop smiling at his own son. The Queen bit the inside of her cheek and the King looked remarkably interested playing with the Queen's fingers.

Every eye turned towards Jeonghan. The prince sat quietly beside the Queen, his blond hair was open. He looked almost impossibly composed.

The Chancellor cleared his throat. "...Your Highness."

Jeonghan who has nearly finished weaving a flower crown looked up. "Yes?"

"Is...what the General has said true?"

Jeonghan smiled. "It is true that I have found a gentleman. You all know him. He is incredibly handsome."

The room collectively inhaled and another minister leaned forward. He tried very hard to sound professional. "Then who is the fortunate gentleman?"

Jeonghan stood without answering. He walked slowly around the council table past the ministers, the Chancellor and went straight towards Seungcheol.

The General looked down at him. "...Your Highness?"

Jeonghan smiled that one smile that always preceded complete disaster for anyone trying to remain composed.

He rose onto his toes placed the crown gently on Seungcheol's head and pressed one gentle kiss on Seungcheol's left cheek. Then, for symmetry, another on the right exactly as he had the previous night.

The council chamber became so quiet that if someone outside was sneezing could probably have been heard.

Jeonghan took Seungcheol's hand. Then turned to face the council. "This one. I am taking your General with me. This man belongs to me from from today. He is my general. No one should be seen sending any marriage prospectus to the General. In any case, if anyone disagrees, or has any different opinion, you may please resign from the post. My father will reward you generously"

He held up their joined hands slightly. His voice carried just enough princely authority to remind everyone that, beneath the kindness, he had been raised to rule.

Mingyu, standing against the wall with the other officers, looked as though he might actually choke trying not to laugh.

The Prime Minister was the first to recover. He stood and looked at his son, the general and then to the prince and bowed deeply. "Your Highness, there is nothing we would want more."

One by one, every minister rose. "There is no objection."

"None whatsoever."

"I wholeheartedly approve."

"Frankly, we've been waiting for this."

"It was becoming exhausting."

The Chancellor sighed dramatically. The Queen finally allowed herself to grin. She looked towards the King and the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister closed his eyes. "...Must we?"

"We must."

With all the solemnity expected of the highest official in Seranthia, the King reached into his robes and produced a small velvet pouch and placed it into the Queen's waiting hand.

The Queen weighed it thoughtfully.  Another minister groaned when the Prime Minister placed his pouch as well to the Queen's waiting hand.

The Queen looked around innocently. "What? My husband intitated it. It was not my issue that you all failed."

One after another, pouches appeared. The Minister of Finance sighed. "I had it before Harvest Festival.'"

The Minister of Agriculture muttered, "I lost three sovereigns because I said Winter Solstice."

Mingyu walked forward carrying an even larger pouch. The Queen raised an eyebrow. "You too?"

"I had the General."

"Wise man, You knew what you are doing. You are always on my side, Captain."

"I underestimated how bold His Highness would be."

Within minutes, the Queen had accumulated an impressive little mountain of velvet purses. She looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.

Jeonghan blinked. "...Mother."

"Yes?"

"Were you betting on my love life?"

The King coughed. "It sounds improper when you phrase it like that. Don't speak to your mother like that."

The Queen smiled sweetly. "I merely placed a bet on the General."

Jeonghan looked at Seungcheol in mock horror. "They gambled on us."

Seungcheol, who was still trying to recover from being kissed in front of the entire council, nodded slowly.

The Chancellor sighed, shaking his head with theatrical despair. "Your Highness. For the record this has been the longest courtship in the history of this Kingdom."

Mingyu folded his arms. "I disagree. It wasn't a courtship. It was years of mutual pining."

The entire council burst into laughter. Even Seungcheol couldn't suppress a smile. Jeonghan looked up at him.

Seungcheol looked down at the prince his prince now, openly and without hesitation.

The King clapped his hands once, bringing the laughter back under control. "Excellent."

The ministers straightened automatically. The King looked around the room with regal dignity.

"Now that the kingdom's most persistent problem has finally been resolved, can someone please tell the royal scribes to stop drafting marriage proposals for both of them?"

From the back of the chamber, a scribe raised a hand.

"Your Majesty, we stopped it from yesterday and started drafting the engagement announcement instead."

The Queen laughed first, then the King and then the ministers.

Until, for perhaps the first time in Seranthia's history, the royal council meeting ended with applause for the kingdom's General and its endlessly kind, flower-crown-making prince, whose love story had finally become official, much to the relief of everyone who had been forced to watch them dance around it for the better part of two decades.

Epilogue:

Five years later... The palace of Seranthia had become considerably louder. It was because two very small people had declared war on silence.

"Father!"

Tiny footsteps thundered through the eastern corridor. Four-year-old Jungwon raced around the corner, wooden sword clutched in his hand, his black hair hopelessly messy despite the maids' best efforts. He looked exactly like Seungcheol, with the same determined eyebrows, sharp eyes and the little frown whenever he concentrated.

Unlike Jungwon, Yuna was unmistakably Jeonghan's daughter with soft golden-blond hair and bright, mischievous eyes with a smile capable of convincing almost anyone to agree to anything. She was carrying flowers.

Jungwon reached the throne room first. Seungcheol happened to be discussing border patrol schedules with Captain Mingyu.

The little boy stopped dramatically in front of him. "Father."

Seungcheol looked down. "Yes?"

"I defeated the dragon. It was enormous like Uncle Mingyu."

The council guards failed spectacularly at hiding their laughter. Meanwhile, Yuna wandered into the palace gardens. She found exactly who she'd expected. Jeonghan, sitting beneath the old willow tree making flower crowns. Some things, never changed.

"Appa."

Jeonghan looked up. "There you are."

Without hesitation, Yuna climbed into his lap. "What, making?"

"We are making flower crowns today for everyone."

"Even Father?"

"Your father is on the top of my list"

—

An hour later, the family gathered for breakfast. Jungwon insisted on demonstrating his newest sword stance. Yuna insisted every chair required flower decorations. Jeonghan insisted on something else entirely. "I haven't received my morning kisses."

Jungwon gasped dramatically. "Oh."

Yuna placed a tiny hand over her mouth. "We forgot."

Jeonghan nodded with exaggerated sadness. "You both forgot."

The children immediately scrambled onto his lap, one kiss on the left cheek and one on the right, another on his forehead. Jeonghan laughed. "There they are."

Then, he looked across the table. "...I'm still missing one."

Seungcheol sighed the sigh of a man who had surrendered years ago. He crossed the room and bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against Jeonghan's forehead.

Jeonghan smiled. "I was actually asking for one here."

He pointed to his lips. Seungcheol chuckled. "So demanding."

—

Five years of marriage had changed remarkably little. Jeonghan still sought cuddles before he was fully awake. He still wandered into Seungcheol's office carrying flowers instead of important documents. He still tucked daisies into the General's ceremonial helmet before every parade.

And Seungcheol never removed them. The palace no longer found it surprising. If anything, the guards became concerned whenever the General appeared without a flower.

One young recruit once whispered, "Sir your helmet is missing today's flower."

Seungcheol immediately turned around. "...You're right."

He walked all the way back to the palace gardens because Jeonghan had forgotten for exactly one morning.

—

That evening, once the children were asleep, the palace became quiet again.

The hill overlooking Seranthia hadn't changed. Wildflowers still danced in the breeze and the stars still filled the sky.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol sat side by side exactly where everything had changed years ago.

Jeonghan rested his head against Seungcheol's shoulder. "I can't believe Jungwon tried to recruit the palace chickens into his army. He was disappointed that they wouldn't obey. They preferred Yuna."

"They always do, she shares breadcrumbs."

After a while, Seungcheol reached for Jeonghan's hand. Their fingers intertwined as naturally as breathing.

"I've been thinking. I've fought wars. I've protected the kingdoms. I've loved you for much longer than I realised."

Jeonghan looked up at him. Moonlight caught the gold in his hair. Seungcheol gently brushed a loose strand behind his ear.

"I don't think there is a version of my life where I don't find you. If there are a thousand worlds... I'll look for you in every one. If there are a million lifetimes, I'll choose you in every one. I love you ardently, my Prince."

He leaned his forehead against Jeonghan's. "I will be yours forever in every universe."

Jeonghan looked at him with exactly the same expression he'd worn when he first tucked a daisy into a young General's helmet all those years ago, it was soft, playful and completely in love.

He tilted his head innocently. "Well, can I kiss you now?"

Seungcheol tried very hard to maintain the gravity of the moment. "I am having a serious conversation, my prince."

Jeonghan nodded solemnly. He leaned a little closer. "And, I am being very serious about kissing."

His smile widened into the one that had undone the General for nearly twenty years. "So what, you know every time, when we come here, you kiss me. You didn't today -I mean till now. And, I kept waiting for it. I din't realise how much I had come to look forward to it until it didn't happen. I am missing it now."

He smiled, a little sheepishly. "So, can I get my kiss now?"

Seungcheol laughed, the warm, unguarded laugh that only one person in the world had ever been able to draw from him. "You always could."

Jeonghan closed the remaining distance between them. Above them, the same stars that had once watched a lonely prince cry on a hillside now watched two husbands share a quiet kiss beneath the summer sky.

Below, the lights of Seranthia glowed warmly. The kingdom was at peace, protected by its steadfast General and loved by its endlessly kind prince.

For kingdoms are remembered by their wars, but Seranthia would be remembered for something gentler, that every morning its prince gathered flowers, crowned his General with them, and chose him all over again.