Chapter Text
The snow is falling heavily outside, blanketing the palace grounds in sheets of white. Snowflakes drift relentlessly from the gray sky, settling upon the rooftops, the stone pathways, and the bare branches of the palace gardens. The sight casts a somber mood over the grounds but not for the people sheltered within the palace walls who's currently celebrating the Winter Festival.
Through the countless chambers and corridors, the laughter of the consorts, gathered together with the newly crowned King, carries through the otherwise silent afternoon. Their voices mingle with one another, warm and bright against the cold that lingers outside.
The children playing beneath the falling snow can be heard as well, their shrill laughter and wild cries echoing across the palace grounds as they chase after one another, completely unbothered by the cold.
The world seems so lively, so full of laughter. As though there is nothing in this world capable of hurting these pure and innocent people.
But every person within the palace has a story of their own.
Some were nearly killed but somehow managed to survive. Some had their lives cut short before they had even truly begun, all because of a single mistake. And some were fortunate enough to live for as long as fate would allow, carrying with them the burdens, sorrow, and pain of everyone who had been left behind.
One of these people is named Nam Woohyun.
Eunuch Nam Woohyun—the man revered by the late King as the Head Eunuch, the highest-ranking official in court, and the Grand General who had led the kingdom through its bloodiest and deadliest war.
From a young age, Woohyun had known nothing but service. Serving others was all he had ever been taught, all he had ever known. And when he first met Crown Prince Kim Sungkyu, he knew, even then, that he would never want to serve anyone else for the rest of his life.
At the young age of eight, Woohyun had been placed at Crown Prince Kim Sungkyu's side. He tended to him in every way a servant was expected to, attending to his needs and remaining close enough that the Prince never had to call twice.
So naturally, when the Crown Prince eventually ascended the throne, Woohyun remained by his side.
“You'll be with me forever, okay?”
Those were the words the Prince used to tell Woohyun time and time again.
Woohyun hadn't understood what they meant back then. The promise had been too unfamiliar for a child his age to comprehend. All he knew was that the Prince seemed to shine more brightly than anyone else in the entire court. This is more evident with the way he spoke with unwavering confidence, the way he carried himself with quiet authority, and the way he never seemed afraid to challenge what had always been accepted.
He would propose new laws that no other Prince before him had ever dared to consider, and for that, Woohyun admired him more deeply than his small heart could properly contain.
If he were to admit it to himself, his admiration for the King went far beyond what anyone within the palace could ever know.
But feelings such as those were insignificant things—things he wasn't even permitted to entertain, for Woohyun had other matters to worry about.
Upon Sungkyu's ascension to the throne at the young age of fifteen, Woohyun became his personal Eunuch.
Just as he had always done, the newly crowned King would look at him with that familiar smile and say,
“You can never leave me, Woohyun! We'll be together forever!”
And so Woohyun served by his side, day and night.
He ground the King's ink, prepared his brushes, and sat nearby as Sungkyu reviewed the policies he had drafted, carefully considering whether each one would truly benefit the people of their kingdom. Whenever the King presented a new law, Woohyun was there to witness it. He quietly admired the young ruler who had already begun to reshape the kingdom with ideas far beyond his years.
When the King fell ill, Woohyun never left his side. He tended to him through the night, made certain that his medicines were taken on time, and ensured that every maid attending to the King understood his habits, his mannerisms, and the smallest things he might need before he even had to ask.
Woohyun was there when the King took his first wife and named her Queen. He stood among the court beside the King as he decreed before the entire kingdom that the Queen had been blessed by the deities with a beautiful face, a gentle and virtuous heart, and a grace befitting the highest woman in the land. The King proclaimed that he had given her his deepest affection and pledged to her a lifetime of loyalty—a devotion he swore no other woman in the kingdom would ever receive.
And when the Queen became pregnant with her firstborn child, Woohyun was there once more. With the King's permission, he announced the birth of a son and decreed that the child would be named Crown Prince. The young Prince was raised with the same reverence that had once surrounded his father, praised for his intelligence, his composure, and his remarkable promise. Even as a child, he showed the same excellence that had once made the young King Kim Sungkyu so admired by his people.
He had a bright future ahead of him.
Woohyun had been there for all of it.
Through the rise and fall of seasons, through triumphs with wars he led himselfand hardships brought by disasters, through laughter and tears and through days of brilliant sunshine and nights of relentless rain, he was there through it all. He had witnessed the King's greatest victories and stood quietly beside him through his deepest grief.
He was there when the Queen passed away.
He was there when the Crown Prince, now a grown man, ascended the throne and inherited the kingdom his father had spent his entire life building.
And through it all, Woohyun remained.
True to the words the young Prince had spoken so many years ago, Woohyun had stayed by his side for almost forever.
And all these times with the King had been the deep-seated feelings he had harbored.
Feelings he had never once stopped to consider until this day.
The snow poured heavily from the sky outside, burying the palace grounds beneath an endless blanket of white. Yet within the palace walls, the laughter of the consorts and the loud voices of the children continued to echo through the corridors, drowning out the quiet sound of Woohyun's tears.
He knew. The day had finally come for him to leave this world.
With what little strength remained in his frail body, Woohyun dragged himself across the cold stone pavement, each step slower and heavier than the last. His legs ached, his breathing was shallow, and his body felt as though it had grown unbearably heavy with age.
Yet there was only one place he had in mind.
“Your Majesty, I'm here.”
Woohyun's voice came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.
His leg was beginning to limp, but he continued forward with the same quiet confidence he had carried throughout his entire life. In his trembling hands, he held a bundle of incense—the same incense he had burned every year for his King.
He knelt carefully before the tablet and lit it.
The moment the smoke began to curl into the air, Woohyun coughed softly. The sudden movement caused several strands of his gray hair to slip loose from beneath his black hat.
He quickly brushed them aside and composed himself before continuing his prayer. But as he knelt before the tablet, more of his hair fell across his cheeks.
Woohyun stared at the strands for a moment before letting out a small, breathless laugh.
“Sungkyu-ssi…” His voice softened. “Your Majesty.”
He smiled to himself, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear.
“This reminds me of the time you told me I had very beautiful hair.”
His smile grew faintly wider.
“Are you telling me to take off my hat? That would be very improper.”
He laughed quietly at his own words.
Then he coughed again.
This time, the cough lingered longer, forcing him to turn away from the tablet. With shaking hands, he reached into his robe and pulled out his old handkerchief. Rather than a handkerchief, it looked like a worn piece of cloth embroidered with a rather messy little horse.
The moment Woohyun saw it, a laugh escaped him.
He remembered exactly when it had been made.
“You loved horses,” Sungkyu murmured, his eyes lingering on the crooked embroidery. “You loved riding them, too…If I hadn't confined you to these palace walls and made you the Head Eunuch, you could have been out there…” his voice trailed off.
“Your Majesty,” Woohyun said softly. “I chose to stay with you. You gave me too much power already, didn't you?” A faint chuckle escaped him. “You had me lead wars too every year. Those wars where you could only trust me to return victorious.”
Woohyun lowered his gaze to the handkerchief held in Sungkyu's hands. He takes it in his own, admiring the messy embroidery that the King had done for him.
“So…what is there to regret?”
Woohyun coughs again. For a moment, he struggles to catch his breath, his body nearly giving way beneath him. He quickly steadies himself, forcing his trembling legs to hold.
As he had expected, the handkerchief was stained with blood.
He had always known this day would eventually come. He simply never expected that he would still have a few years left to live.
When the late King passed away, it had felt as though a piece of Woohyun's soul had been buried alongside him. There had been a part of him that wished he could have followed the King into the grave.
Sometimes, he found himself wondering if he had committed some heinous crime…something unforgivable enough to warrant being buried beside the man he had devoted his entire life to.
Perhaps then, he would not have been left behind.
But fate, as it always did, had other plans.
The newly appointed King, who is the late King's son, had asked Woohyun to remain by his side until he was confident enough to rule the Kingdom on his own.
Woohyun could have refused. He could have told the young King that he was growing old, that his body was no longer what it once was, and that there were younger men far more suited to serve at his side.
Yet somehow, it seemed the Gods had decided otherwise.
It was as though they were all telling him that his duty was not yet finished.
And so, with what little joy remained in him, Woohyun poured it into the only things he had left which are fulfilling his duties at court, guiding the young King until he could stand on his own, and, every year without fail, kneeling before Sungkyu's tablet to offer his prayers.
Perhaps this was the life the Gods had chosen for him.
“Your Majesty, I made another painting. And I'm here to present it to you.”
During Woohyun’s remaining years, he had picked up the habit of painting. And unexpectedly, he was good at it.
And so, just as much as his memory allows him, he painted his King day and night.
“My King, I think, out of all the paintings I had done all these years, you're the most stunning in this one. You don't mind if I bring this to my grave, right?”
The ancestral hall’s door suddenly opens and as if the King himself were answering his words, the wind picked up and Woohyun's black hat finally slipped from his head.
It fell quietly beside him, revealing a head full of silver-gray hair. The loose strands tumbled over his face, veiling his tired features as though even now, Sungkyu were gently reaching out to hide him from the world.
Woohyun reached up to brush his hair aside.
And for a fleeting moment, he could almost hear that familiar voice again.
“Your hair is as beautiful as this moonlight.”
Woohyun's hand stilled.
“I wish I could feel it in my hands…”
The memory continued, soft and warm, as though Sungkyu were sitting beside him just as he had countless times before.
“But just like how the moon is up there in the sky, meant only for us to look at…”
Woohyun picked up his hat from the floor, chuckling softly to himself as the wind continued to sweep past him.
“Your Majesty, I told you it's improper, didn't I?” Woohyun said as he placed the hat back on his head, adjusting it carefully so it sat securely and would not be so easily carried away by the wind.
He lifted the painting once more, quietly admiring the portrait he had made of his King before gently placing it beside the late King's tablet.
Another gust of wind swept through the courtyard, brushing against Woohyun's frail body. His hands trembled, and the force of it nearly sent the tablet toppling over.
Woohyun's eyes widened in alarm.
He hurriedly steadied the tablet with one hand while keeping the painting from falling with the other. He let out a small, relieved breath when both finally settled back into place.
“My King, do you want me to accompany you that badly already?” Woohyun teased, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “Is that why you're becoming impatient and knocking over your own things?”
His smile lingered for a moment before slowly fading.
“I'll be going now, okay?” he murmured. “Just a little longer… I only want to see you a little longer with my own eyes..”
Woohyun returned to his position before the tablet, lowering himself properly onto his knees. With his hands resting neatly before him, he bowed his head and offered the last of his prayers.
“Sungkyu-ssi… Your Majesty.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Nam Woohyun is going to accompany you now.”
A coughing fit suddenly seized him.
Woohyun reached for the handkerchief again that the King had once given him, which had fallen onto the floor beside him, and pressed it over his mouth. The coughs were harsher this time, tearing through his chest until his entire body shook with each one.
He could feel it.
This time, he truly felt that his end had come.
“My King…” Woohyun whispered between ragged breaths. “Please accept my last bow to you.”
He slowly lowered his head until his forehead touched the cold floor.
And there, for the first time in many years, Woohyun allowed himself to pour out everything he had kept buried within his heart—to the King to whom he had given his entire life.
They say that when death comes, a person is plagued by memories of the past.
Yet strangely, as Woohyun felt his vision beginning to fade and each breath becoming weaker than the last, there was only one thing he could remember.
He had forgotten to bring Sungkyu's favorite beef stew before meeting him.
Woohyun almost wanted to laugh.
He could already imagine the scolding waiting for him on the other side.
He had no doubt Sungkyu would complain about it. But he knew, too, that his King would forgive him. After all, Sungkyu is…His King was—
“W-Woohyun-ah…?”
Woohyun's eyes slowly opened.
He was met with a blinding light and wondered for a moment if this was his ending.
It turned out that the blinding light was coming from the sun directly shining into his eyes.
More than the light, he notices a crying man in front of him, covered in bruises with a white cloth wrapped around his head. The man's hair has been cut short, which deeply terrified Woohyun as it is a major taboo.
His eyes leave the crying man for a second, wildly scanning his surroundings and noticing that the golden palace walls, the stone pavements, and the memorial tablet of his King that were just in front of him moments ago were now all replaced with something that looks unfamiliar and out of place—
“....W-Woohyunie..?”
The man whom his eyes had left for a second desperately calls for him again.
Said man seems to know his name, and Woohyun briefly wonders why. Woohyun doesn't seem to be from here, yet he still has all the memories of his life. He briefly wonders if the so-called reincarnation he once heard about from the High Priest was actually true…
Was he reincarnated with the same name, with all his memories still intact?
If so, who is this man calling for him?
Since Woohyun has remained idle for the longest time without even replying, the crying man begins tearing off all the things attached to his body.
Woohyun looks closely at the things that were previously connected to the man and notices the needles on them.
So even in this time, do they still practice acupuncture to cure illness?
“Nam Woohyun!”
Woohyun doesn't realize it, but the man is now standing directly in front of him, his face much closer than it was a moment ago.
He startles so badly that he almost trips over his own feet. The said man tries to catch him but is weak himself, so they both end up toppling onto the floor in a mess of limbs.
Woohyun opens his eyes and is greeted by the blinding light for the second time, this time hanging above the chamber they're in.
Weird...
He is also greeted by the man who has been calling out to him all this time.
The man's features look so familiar that Woohyun feels as though he has met him before, despite being in a completely different timeline. Woohyun studies his face closely, taking in every line and feature, and the way the man's forehead folds in a certain way that looks so uncannily similar to—
“That hurts.... You scared me there... and you're still scaring me, by the way—”
The man finally opens his eyes, and Woohyun finally sees the brown orbits up close for the first time.
“Woohyun-ah.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“My Queen has been teasing me, you know. She says it's just her being playful, but I really think she's being honest,” Sungkyu says, silently stomping his foot against the floor as he tries to get Woohyun's attention.
“What is it now, Your Majesty? Is it about your body? Do you want me to lecture her?” Woohyun asks without so much as looking at the King. Every few months, he gets into an argument with the Queen, and Woohyun is more than used to being the one who breaks up their arguments.
“No.... Don't scold her. I know she's right anyway.”
“If you think she's right, you wouldn't be coming to me and seeking my consolation,” Woohyun says, putting down the court documents and finally giving his King his full attention.
“She said my eyes looked so unpleasant to look at,” Sungkyu says, an unmistakable twinge of hurt in his voice.
Woohyun smiles, lifting his hand and hovering it over the King's face. He immediately catches himself and stops his hand mid-air. He breathes in through his nose as quietly as he can before saying,
“Your Majesty, you have the most unique eyes I have ever seen.”
“You're just teasing me, Woohyun. I know.”
“Why would I lie to you? I've been with you far longer than the Queen ever has. Your eyes really are unique. They look like the crescent moon that hangs in the brightest of nights—”
“....Y-Your Majesty?”
Woohyun’s eyes filled with tears. He raises his hand, wanting to touch the face he hadn't seen for almost ten years, but years of habit of stopping himself made his hand freeze mid-air.
“Y-your—...? W-Woohyun! I-it's me! Sungkyu! Sungkyu hyung!”
Sungkyu grabs his raised hand and places it against his cheek, letting Woohyun touch him. His own hand remains behind Woohyun’s, keeping it there.
“I'm here.... You are.... you're here too,” Sungkyu says desperately, his breathing ragged.
“Y-your.... Sungkyu-ssi. You're alive... you're alive...?"
Woohyun finally says his name, his hand continuing to caress his face. His tears finally overflow.
“Yes, I'm alive. You're alive too.”
Sungkyu keeps repeating the words. He finally lets go of Woohyun’s hand, but instead wraps his arms around Woohyun’s head.
Woohyun startles for a moment, not knowing what to do himself, so he remains still.
“Hug me too. Hug me too, Woohyun.”
Woohyun raises his hands, returning the hug and burying his face into Sungkyu’s neck.
Sungkyu continues to cry into his shoulder, hugging him so tightly that Woohyun feels like he might suffocate.
“I don't care if this is just a dream. I'll just fucking stay here. I'll stay here forever.”
Woohyun couldn't agree more.
If this is really a dream, I want to stay here forever too just like we promised.
Gods, if reincarnation is really possible, please let this be my second life. Please let me stay here forever.
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.
.
.
.
“Your Majesty, I don't think this is a dream at all.”
“How can you say that? Also.... are you.... am I a King of yours or something? Why do you keep on calling me like that...?"
“Sungkyu-ssi, yes, you're my King in my place. Also, I've long heard from our High Priest before.... that reincarnation is possible if certain requirements are met. But as for what those requirements are, I wouldn't know.”
Sungkyu sits quietly for a few moments, simply letting the heart monitor beside him continue to beep. He ponders what he had done recently that could have caused something like this to happen, but nothing significant comes to mind.
“I must be high on medicine if I'm hallucinating right now.”
At that, Sungkyu is rewarded with Woohyun’s chuckle and a small smile.
Sungkyu feels his heart tighten for a moment. He reaches out to Woohyun and touches the corners of his mouth. He lets his fingers linger for a while around his lips before proceeding to cup his cheeks.
“I understand medicine, but I don't know what hallucination is. If you're talking about dreaming again, I don't really think you are. I am alive just like you are....”
Sungkyu lowers his hand from Woohyun’s cheeks. He touches the railing of his bed and proceeds to say,
“.....Woohyun-ah.” He starts somberly. “If I'm not dreaming, then I don't know what this is.”
Woohyun looks at him questioningly, but he doesn't say anything. He lets Sungkyu think through his thoughts himself. If this Sungkyu is the same as his Sungkyu, then letting him continue without interrupting would be the best way to let him gather his thoughts and actually tell Woohyun the truth.
Sungkyu finally looks back at him. His eyes hold a sadness that Woohyun doesn't understand. Not until the next words leave Sungkyu’s mouth.
“After all, Woohyun-ah, you're already dead in this world.”
Woohyun is taken aback. The force of reality slams him back into his own world for a split second.
He sees the portrait of Sungkyu that he himself had painted, standing proudly beside Sungkyu’s memorial tablet.
Then, just as quickly, he is brought back to the Sungkyu crying in front of him.
Woohyun felt like he had just run a marathon with what had just happened. He tightly held onto his beating heart as he tried to regain his senses.
“... W-Woohyun?!” Sungkyu leaned from his bedside in alarm upon noticing Woohyun clutching his chest.
“I-I'm okay…I'm okay,” Woohyun said, even as his breaths came in short succession.
He briefly wondered if what had just happened was fate or whatever had brought him here, reminding him that he had a borrowed body from someone who had already died in this world.
“A-are you sure?” Sungkyu asked worriedly. His hand reached out to Woohyun, to which Woohyun almost grabbed.
His hand once again remained suspended in the air.
Sungkyu quickly noticed and entangled their fingers together.
“A-am I really dead…? Am I really supposed to be dead…?”
“They told me you were. When I first woke up after sleeping for a week, they all told me you couldn't make it,” Sungkyu said, firmly holding Woohyun's hand, his tears falling uncontrollably from his eyes.
“So…what is this? What is…” Woohyun thought back to the time he was chanting prayers to Sungkyu's memorial tablet.
He did say he would come to him now and that he would be by his side once again, to serve him forever, fulfilling his lifelong pledge to him.
But even if Woohyun did say that, he didn't really expect for it to come true in a way that neither he nor this other Sungkyu had expected.
“Patient Nam!”
A nurse suddenly barged into the room, a worried look etched into her face.
Being the only Nam in the room, he turned around and was met with an old woman wearing all white.
Woohyun looked at Sungkyu concernedly, wondering if he would frighten the old woman after seeing his ghost when he supposedly died a week ago…
But wait, didn't the woman just call for him…?!
“Oh, you're here! I knew you'd be here! When you wake up, you keep calling for Sungkyu-ssi and we have to sedate you! Please don't waste our work and go back to your room!”
Sungkyu looked at the nurse, then back at Woohyun.
Like some work of a magician, Woohyun was suddenly wearing the same clothes as what Sungkyu was wearing. Woohyun looked at Sungkyu in shock, then back at the nurse.
“Nam Woohyun-ssi! You'll still see him once you guys are all better. Come on!” The nurse grabbed Woohyun by the wrist, gently but firmly dragging him away from Sungkyu's sight.
Sungkyu mouthed the words, I'll come to you later.
And true to his words, Sungkyu did come to Woohyun's chamber (bedroom), just as he had promised.
“You came, Your Majesty.”
Even though he had already seen Sungkyu just a few hours ago, he still couldn't believe it. The hair was still unsettlingly unfamiliar, but the face and body were so familiar to his whole being that it was almost impossible to reconcile the two.
What kind of gift has he been bestowed?
“Woohyun…” Sungkyu said, his voice filled with so much emotion that Woohyun couldn't even begin to understand it.
Sungkyu quietly closed the door behind him, carefully dragging his IV along as he took slow, cautious steps so as not to wake any of the nurses on watch.
As soon as the doors were closed, he immediately went to the stool beside Woohyun's bed.
“How are you feeling…?” Sungkyu asked as he reached for Woohyun's hand, caressing it just as he had hours ago.
Woohyun felt overwhelmed by the gesture. After all, he and his King had never done things like this. The last time was when they were still young and clueless children who had never taken position. At his age now, he didn't even think he was fit to be doing things like this.
“I-I'm good… How about you?” Woohyun asked, trying to divert his attention to anything other than their intertwined hands.
For example, Sungkyu's head, which was wrapped in a white cloth.
“I'm feeling much better now that you're in front of me,” Sungkyu said, a hint of mirth in his voice.
Woohyun didn't really understand what he meant, but he still smiled.
“If you're alright, then what is that white cloth on your head?” Woohyun blurted out.
“Ah… this? We call this a head bandage. It's used when you have a head injury and I do have one.” Sungkyu explained.
Woohyun raised his hand, stopping midway.
But Sungkyu caught him again in his earlier habit and quickly reached out to grab his raised hand.
“You are allowed to touch it.”
“Thank you, my King,” Woohyun said out of habit as well.
He gently touched the bandage on Sungkyu's head.
“Does it… hurt?”
“For now, it doesn't. They've been giving me medicine for the pain. It'll probably wear off, though, so they have to keep giving it to me.”
Woohyun remembered the time when his King had suffered a head injury of his own.
“W-Where is His Majesty?! W-Where is he?!"
Woohyun had just returned to their Kingdom after a quick errand that had taken only three days of travel. Yet in that short amount of time, his King had already been injured so badly that Woohyun felt the desperate need to just stay by his side now for as long as his body would allow him.
“Eunuch Nam Woohyun! He's okay. You have to stay calm. The Queen is already with him, so you have nothing else to worry about. She's taking care of him.”
The head maid of the King's palace tried to stop the frantic eunuch from rushing into the King's chamber and disturbing the Queen as she cared for him.
All of a sudden, Woohyun's bitterness slowly crept in, swallowing him whole.
He stepped out of the palace instead, seeking some fresh air.
The next time he saw his King was two weeks later.
His head was wrapped in a white cloth, and Woohyun couldn't help but walk toward him and—
“Are you done being mad at me?” the King asked.
“I wouldn't dare, Your Majesty,” Woohyun quietly said, placing his hands at the sides of his armor.
He was about to leave for another war, and he had come only to say his farewell to his King.
Woohyun watched as the King's hand slowly rose into the air. He prepared himself to be struck and closed his eyes.
However, a minute passed, and nothing happened.
Woohyun slowly opened his eyes and saw Sungkyu's hand hovering close to his cheek.
“Woohyun-ah, take care out there, okay? I'll be waiting for you.”
Woohyun looked at his King's wounded head and thought to himself that he wished he had more courage—the kind of courage that could bend the country's rules, just so he could simply hold his King a little closer than he was allowed to.
“Y-Your Majesty, does it hurt a lot…?” Woohyun asked, tears suddenly filling his eyes.
Sungkyu sighed softly and gently took hold of the hand that was still resting against his bandage.
“Woohyun, it doesn't. Really.”
“But you're injured…”
“I know.” Sungkyu gave him a small smile. “But I'm okay. You don't have to look at me like you're about to cry.”
Woohyun's lips trembled slightly.
Sungkyu's thumb brushed over the back of his hand, soothingly, just as he had hours ago.
“And also… you have to stop calling me that.”
“Calling you what?”
“Your Majesty.”
Sungkyu hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I… I know I am your King in wherever you are. But here…” His eyes softened as he looked at Woohyun. “Here, I'm just Kim Sungkyu.”
Sungkyu continued caressing Woohyun's hand, his thumb moving slowly across his knuckles.
Woohyun stared down at their hands. His hands being caressed by his King is an image he never knew he would have lived to see. The thought overwhelmed him.
Woohyun folded in on himself, gently pulling his hand away. Sungkyu frowned slightly at the sudden loss of contact.
“I understand, Sungkyu-ssi.”
“Sungkyu hyung.”
“Hyung…?”
Woohyun tilted his head, trying to wrap his head around the unfamiliar word he had just learned.
“It's like hyung-nim. It means older brother.” Sungkyu smiled up at him.
Woohyun smiled in return.
For some odd reason, this world was starting to feel a little more familiar to him—with his King by his side and all..
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.
.
.
“Sungkyu-ssi—”
Sungkyu looked at Woohyun, and Woohyun immediately knew he had messed up. After all, it had only been a day since he arrived in this world. He knew he would need a little more time before he could properly remember all the things he was supposed to be familiar with—particularly the ones that Sungkyu had been teaching him slowly.
“Sorry, Sungkyu hyung.”
“You don't have to say sorry, you know? Just remember it slowly. It's fine,” Sungkyu said, brushing the strands of Woohyun's hair that had fallen across his face behind his ear.
The simple gesture sent a familiar tingle through Woohyun's mind.
“Your hair is growing longer each day, Woohyun.”
“Does His Majesty find me irritating with this long hair of mine?” Woohyun muses. He continues to grind the ink as His King beside him tries to read the memorials to the best of his ability.
“No…I just think that—”
“Your Majesty, the Queen is here.” a palace maid announces.
Woohyun thought that whatever had crossed the King’s mind in that moment would long be forgotten.
However, before he can even step down from the King’s platform, the King grabs his wrist and whispers, “I just think that you're very beautiful when you let your long hair down.”
For a brief moment, he felt as though it was his King sitting beside him again.
“Sungkyu hyung, what should we do once we're out of here?”
“Why? Are you excited to see this world?” Sungkyu raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin playing on his lips.
“Would you put me in some sort of palace dungeon if I said I am?” Woohyun answered in return.
Sungkyu laughed at Woohyun's poor attempt at a joke.
“Haha! Maybe!”
Woohyun looked at the flower petals floating gently through the air. He watched as bees and butterflies followed the sweet scent of the flowers, and he couldn't help but feel as though the butterflies had somehow entered him, fluttering restlessly inside his stomach.
Woohyun turned his gaze back to Sungkyu.
“More than the world, I want to know what your favourite food is.”
Sungkyu looked at Woohyun, too.
For a few moments, they simply held each other's gaze.
Then, a blue butterfly landed gently on Sungkyu's head, slowly flapping its wings.
“It's beef stew. My favourite food is beef stew.”
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𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊: 23:35